All language subtitles for S05E10-en

Blue Moon Detective Agency.

Sorry for not answering on the first ring.

We're cleaning and dusting,
preparing for spring.

Getting rid of the old
to make room for the new.

So, we give every client his or her due.

Sorry, operator, we cannot accept

an out-of-state call that is collect.

Oh, Herbert.

You, guys! You, guys!

I don't think this is a good idea.

- Stop it! This instant.
- Ow!

I tried to tell them.

I want to see Mr. Addison
in my office right away.

Mr. Addison isn't here.

He had a-- a bowling
tournament this morning.

You did this on your own?

Mr. Addison didn't incite you?

He didn't put you up to this?

I'm very disappointed in you.

In you, Mr. O'Neal.

In you, Mr. Viola, and you, MacGilicuddy.

- Well, he started it.
- Did not.

- Did too.
- I don't care who started it.

I thought you were mature enough
to leave unsupervised,

but I guess I was wrong.

As punishment,
I want you in your seats

with you heads down for a full 30 minutes.

- You're kidding?
- Did you hear me?

In your seats, heads on your desks!

Do you want Mr. Addison
to hear about this?

Agnes, would you give me
a hand with these, please?

MacGilicuddy,
I am telling.

And no talking to our neighbors.

This is quiet time.

Boy, 0h, bOY-

Did this place ever
need a spring cleaning.

I can imagine.

Just the Anselmo case alone
filled a whole dumpster.

Agnes, do you have any idea

when Mr. Addison's gonna be back
from his bowling tournament?

Well, he wasn't sure exactly.

It kinda depends on how long
the awards luncheon lasts.

I can't help feeling that
this ship is out of shape.

Lately, everyone around here has either
been cutting up or cutting out.

Well, everyone's a little tired.

We've been going gangbusters
for five years now.

- A lot of blood under the bridge.
- Is that the tired talking?

I guess I am pretty tired.

Though most of the time when I think about
it, I really would miss this place.

All those people who have sat in that chair
your sitting in telling me their stories.

And I certainly would miss you.

I'd miss you too,
Miss Hayes.

And Viola and MacGilicuddy
and the rest of them,

though I feel like
wringing their necks right now.

And Mr. Addison?

I'd particularly would like
to wring his neck.

Though I can't imagine coming to work
and not finding him hell-bent

on making my life miserable.

Come in.

- Excuse me, Miss Hayes?
- Mr. Viola,

I don't recall giving you permission
to leave your desk.

You didn't, but there is
a client here to see you.

And although I am being disciplined,

I took the liberty
to beg him not to leave,

at least until he'd spoken to you.

Agnes, would you see him in, please?

Miss Hayes,

I will be eternally penitent

for the role I played
in that tomfoolery out there.

But I just want you to know
that rodent MacGilicuddy

really was the one who started it.

Did not.

Out!

Hello.

Hello, my name is Ash.
Brock Ash.

Hello, Mr. Ash.
I'm Madelyn Hayes.

- Mind if I sit down?
- Oh, not at all. Please.

- Are you all right?
- No, but I'm afraid

- there's nothing you can do about that.
- How may I help you?

- You can save me from oblivion.
- Excuse me?

A crime was committed--
a perfect crime,

one which the combined resources
of the police, FBI, Interpol,

and several large insurance companies
have as yet been unable to solve.

What makes you think we can succeed
where so many others have failed?

I don't want you to solve the crime.
I want you to prove I committed it.

- Come again?
- I won't bore you with the details of my illness,

but, as you can see,
I've seen better days.

I'm over the anger and past the denial,

but the only thing standing between me

and acceptance of my fate
are a few regrets.

When I die, my name dies with me.

My wife preceded me.
I have no issue.

My only legacy will be a two-line
obituary of interest to no one.

And that scares the hell out of me.

All I've accomplished is this deed,
this crime, my one success.

Such a success, in fact,
no one knows I did it.

You want to be remembered
for committing a crime?

A man by the name of Vera Stratus

has been remembered for thousands of years

as the one responsible for the destruction
of the Temple of Artemis.

One of the Great Wonders
of the Ancient World.

He burned it to the ground.

Yet history never recorded the
name of the man who built it.

People are remembered
for all sorts of things.

My only wish is to be remembered at all.

- What do you need a private detective for?
- Why don't you just

- turn yourself in to the police?
- Oh, I have, several times.

Apparently, so have dozens of others.
The crime I committed

nearly 25 years ago created quite a stir.

- And the artefacts I took were priceless.
- So, every nut in the world

- has been trying to get into the act?
- Exactly.

Anyone can claim they did it.
The facts are well-documented.

But there is one person who can
actually link me to the theft.

- I'd like you to find him.
- Who?

The security guard on duty that night.

There's a detail he left out
of his statement to the police.

A detail that only he and I know about.

Now, this is a snapshot of me
the day before the robbery.

- Who's the woman?
- My wife, Karen.

- She was beautiful.
- Yes, she was.

That night when I made
my way to the exhibit...

Karen had arranged to distract
the guard in the stairwell.

Like most men, this fellow had
an eye for a well-turned ankle

and, with the prospect of enormous wealth,

Karen was willing to
turn a lot more than that.

- Your wife?
- The irony was all the money

went to pay her hospital
bills a few years later.

I don't know where this guard
is or if he's even still alive.

But if he is and you can locate him,

I can come forward.
I can leave my mark.

And I can die.

Will you take my case,
Miss Hayes?

I do wish you'd reconsider, Miss Hayes.

I'm sorry, Mr. Ash.

Perhaps if I doubled your fee.

Money really isn't the issue here.

This case just isn't my cup of tea.

Well, if you change your mind,
here's my card.

Mr. Viola, would you see
Mr. Ash to his car, please?

- Uh, really, that's not necessary.
- I insist.

- You're very considerate.
- Good luck.

Thank you.

Strike. Yes.

- Good morning, Maddie.
- Good afternoon, David.

- You got the message about the tourney, right?
- I got the message.

- So I didn't inconvenience you?
- You didn't.

- So you're not mad at me?
- David, do whatever you have to do

- to make yourself happy.
- That a girl. Finally catching on.

So, who was the deadbeat I saw Viola
walking down the elevator?

- A would-be case that won't be.
- What was he looking for, a freebie?

- I just didn't like the story.
- Which was?

If you would come to work
instead of hanging out with

your deadbeat cronies on company
time, you'd hear for yourself.

- So, what was his name?
- Who?

- The client.
- He's not a client.

A man comes in here and wants to
give us his hard-earned money,

and you turn him away? What kind
of way is that to run a business?

I don't think we should be
in business with criminals.

- The man was a criminal?
- That man is a criminal.

- What's he wanted for?
- He's not wanted.

- Well, then what's he not wanted for?
- David.

Maddie, you can't just leave me with
a case of casus interrupt us.

I've got work to do.
I don't have time for this.

And I have a right to know what business
my partner's turning down.

- Then will you get out of my office?
- I'll do better than that.

I'll get out of the building.
I'll go to lunch. Again.

His name is Ash. He committed the perfect crime,
and he wants someone to prove he did it

- before he dies.
- And you just let him walk out of here?

- Maddie, how could you?
- Agnes, would you messenger this over to the accountant, please?

- We're not in the business of glorifying criminals.
- Well, how about

glorifl/ing ourselves? Unsolved mysteries,
un-cracked crimes, TV's 10 top most wanted.

There's a tidal wave of trash
sweeping this country right now.

Maybe we could get somebody to
hit Morton Downey with a chair.

Ugh!

Ow! Boy, oh boy, Maddie,

I thought I knew you, but denying
a dying man his last wish.

David, how can you champion his cause when
you weren't even here to listen to him?

A testimonial to your skills
as a storyteller.

He is a criminal, and we
are not going to help him.

Whoa, stop the presses! I got a new lead.
Criminal comes to Blue Moon,

wants them to take the case. Hell, Maddie,
the only difference between this guy

and every other clown that comes through
that door is that we don't gotta

go through six talks in the car, two pair
of shoes, a couple of sets of stunt doubles

going through some big, hokey, elaborate chase
just to find out that he is the criminal.

- I, for one, find that personally refreshing.
- Okay, maybe I've been

- misled a couple of times.
- Has she ever seen the show?

But my intent was always to
help innocent people.

- The man wants to confess.
- Not for remorse. He's after stardom.

So what? What's done is done. Somebody's gotta
take the blame, which rhymes with fame,

- So it might as well be him, and it might as well be us.
- David, I know the concept

of morality is foreign to you, but I'm sorry.
It would be bad enough to help this man

- glorify his criminal past.
- Hello, yeah. Give me the lobby, please.

Yeah, security, this is David
Addison up in Blue Moon.

But for us to ride piggyback just to
get our name in the paper? No, David.

Adult male, 5'10", not long for this world,
with a short guy with a beard.

- End of discussion.
- Don't let them out of the building. I'll be right down.

We're not taking this case.

Oh, yeah, like we're not gonna

really take the case.

Miss Van Briggle, yes,
I understand your position,

but, please, try to understand mine.

There is a larger issue here than the
confidentiality of your personnel records.

I need to find Duncan Kennedy. If I don't find
a liver donor for my patient soon, I--

What do you mean, what's he
gonna do without his liver?

That's why the good Lord,
in his infinite wisdom, gave us two.

What? Well, you can
stick GraySA/vatomy up your--

- What did you find out?
- The big goose egg.

- And I believe you meant kidneys, sir.
- What?

Um, never mind.
How about you. Any luck?

That was the museum curator.
I'm sorry, sir,

but I cannot
release any information on my--

- Damn.
- Yeah, you said a mouthful.

And I got a guy from Reuters coming
over here in a half an hour

talking about a big cash bonus for
an exclusive on the Brock Ash case.

Mr. Viola, I believe this calls
for a covert operation.

I was hoping you'd say that, sir.

David...

for the last time, we're not
cashing in on this crime.

- Okay, case closed.
- What?

Well, the Romans have a saying:

If enough people tell you your fly's open

then maybe you should look down.

I want to thank you and Mr.
Viola for bringing me to my senses.

- You do?
- You do?

I do.

I guess maybe I was allowing the ethical
considerations of this case

to be obscured by my entrepreneurial zeal.

Believe I owe this agency an apology.

Well, sir, we're all guilty of
occasional lapses in judgement.

We are, however, duty-bound as citizens

to follow up on whatever leads
are presented to us by Mr. Ash.

Who is, after all, a common criminal.
But that's where our job ends.

- What's the catch?
- No catch.

We just gather whatever information we can
and turn it over to the proper authorities.

Without turning it into some kinda
self-aggrandizing media sideshow?

I promise you,
I will not let a bearded lady

or a two-headed turtle boy
anywhere near this place.

" Okay?
" Okay,

Mr. Viola, perhaps you'd like to run
Miss Hayes over to the museum.

Speak to curator about the documentation
she's holding for us.

I, myself, am on the way to the dentist.

I feel a touch of, uh,
gingivitis coming on

and I'd hate to ruin this smile.

There's something fishy
in the house of Denmark.

Mi scusi.

May I be of some assistance
to you, Monsignor?

Quando para mucho m/a
a more fefeflte Cara vat.

Monsignor Viola brings
his regards from Rome.

- Monet-- Oh!
- Ow!

Oh, 0h, I'm so sorry.

- What lovely long nails you have.
- Ah...

Mundo papparazzi.
Mi a more ciacapelli karastan?

Monsignor would like to know if he
can impose on your hospitality

for a tour of your fine museum.

Uh, Monsignor, this might be
a good opportunity

for you to practice your English.

Okay!

Marcel Duchamp understood that
taking an ordinary object

and putting it into a different
cultural context became art.

And over here we have a new installation
of works from the 1960s.

- Decadent.
- Mrs. Van Driggle.

'L:

Would you mind if I used your phone?
I have to check with

the home office about
the Monsignor's trip home.

Yes, of course, it's in my office.
Let me show you where--

That's all right. I'll find it.
Thank you, so much.

I don't want to interrupt the tour.

You have a beautiful museum.

Well, it's an honor to have you here.

Yes.

How I envy you.
Working every day

among some of the greatest
art the world has ever known.

Art-a is my life-a.

Raphael. Botticelli. Giotto.

Oh, we have a Giotto inside.

Yeah!

You've seen one Giotto,
you've seen them all.

Oh, I have some photographs in my office

of Renaissance statuary
you might be interested in.

Your ceiling.

She is so empty.

Do you know
La Cappella Sistina?

One of the most moving
experiences of my life

was the first time
I saw the Sistine Chapel.

Sometimes, when I want to
be alone with the divine,

I go there, uh, after all
the tur/Stes have gone home.

I lie on my back

just like Michelangelo.

- On the floor?
- 5/} on the floor.

I lie there for much time

watching the creation of a man.

A great, um...

Uh, come 5/ cf ice, um...

tranquility fills me.

Almost as if it was I,

Monsignor Viola, whose hand...

is touching the Almighty's.

Back in the monastery, my brothers
and me would lie in the snow

and make the angels, like this.

Cherubini, Serafini, fantast/co.

Come on, Monsignor.

They want you back in Rome right away.

- Thank you so much, Miss, uh--
- Van Briggle. Dr. Van Briggle.

- Van Driggle, Briggle. Briggle.
- Graz/e. Graz/e. Motto graz/e.

Oh, my pleasure.

Tutti-fruit; de/ mundo, prob/scus.

I don't know. Maybe I've been
underestimating Herbert.

Well, I put my foot down when he told
me I had to dress up like a nun.

I like the way that boy thinks.

Look, the important thing is
you got Duncan Kennedy's file.

- Yes, but we have yet to find Duncan Kennedy.
- What's next on the list?

Silver Lining Rest Farm. I hope this
isn't another forwarding address.

It doesn't sound like a forwarding address

after a place called
Silver Lining Rest Farm.

I can't wait 'til we can wash our hands
of this case. It's so scuzzy.

What kind of man would use his wife to
seduce a man to pull off a robbery?

The kind of man who'd marry a woman

who'd seduce someone
so he could pull off a robbery.

Anyway, this aforementioned
robbery you've mentioned

is a tad chichier than your run-of-the-mill
second-story job.

Doesn't make it any less scuzzy.

Puts Ash on the short list
with some pretty heady folk.

Before this caper, he was a regular Joe.

Now he's the D.B. Cooper
of the arts and leisure crowd.

- So?
- So, he's set apart from the rest of the pack.

He'll have his niche in the pantheon of great
master criminals. He'll be remembered--

- As a crook.
- Immortality/s a tough thing to pass up.

Immortality and infamy are two completely
different kettle of fish.

Tell that to Billy the Kid
or Bonnie and Clyde.

- Scuzz balls, every one of them.
- Or the James Gang. Then, what is the point?

- That's not the point.
- What is the point?

I happen to think it's a big waste of time to
live your life for posterity, that's all.

Cheap talk coming from
a girl who's face has been on

more magazine covers than the ayatollah.

Shh, I don't wanna get
the writers in trouble.

Anyway, occasionally someone
recognizes me. So what?

So what? It's a big deal.
You've been recorded,

documented, as someone who's made
a contribution to the culture.

- However minute.
- I never knew this was important to you.

It's not that important to me.

- Making your mark, being immortalized.
- Is not important to me.

You sure have taken this
case close to your bosom.

First of all, this case
is nowhere even near my bosom.

And second of all, I don't have a bosom,
and most men I know don't have bosoms.

And third, viva la mfierence,
I'm just trying to

explain here where Ash
is coming from, that's all.

Your problem is that you can't tell the difference
between surface and substance.

Between celebrity and real accomplishment.

By jingo, you're right.
The scales have fallen

from my eyes and I owe it
all to you, Maddie Hayes!

The clothes, the cars,
the flashy women. All the trappings

of material accomplishment,
but I have yet to see you lift a finger

- to lay a foundation for anything past tomorrow.
- Oh, you want to know

how many foundations I've laid.
Well, I'll tell you.

I've seen your ♪♪.O. a million times,
in the office, in the field, in a relationship.

- What? You call that car accident we had a relationship?
- And never once have I seen you

- Oh, and you have?
- Invest anything of yourself. Now why would I want to invest

something in a relationship that
you're not willing to invest in?

Words, words, words, words,
words, words, words, words.

Granted, you probably
think you were the one

who didn't wait to not invest first, but--

That's why it didn't work,
Maddie. We talked it to death.

Yeah, I guess we did.

We still do.

Well, it doesn't matter.
If the topic is the Van Allen belt,

or people who pick their
noses on the freeway,

or those Egyptian funeral
masks Brock Ash stole.

It always turns out to
be a postmortem on us.

- That's right.
- So let's not do it anymore.

- Let's not.
- Okay, David. This isn't about us.

If you really want to be famous,
why don't you write a book,

become a sculptor, or a congressman, or...

do anything instead of devoting your life
to teaching air guitar to the employees.

Once and for all,
I don't want to be famous.

I could care less whether or not I get
the recognition I so richly deserve.

And I certainly don't want any credit
for bringing Brock Ash to justice.

- You're sure?
- Yes, I'm sure.

Uh-huh.

Just give it a shot, pop.
Try and remember.

- Those eyes.
- That's right. Those eyes.

You remember those eyes?
They come in pairs?

There's also a nose and a mouth, and you
put them all together, and it makes a face.

Do you remember this face?

My mother had eyes like that.

My mother's name was Mildred.

Her father--
my grandfather--

Called her, uh, Millie. Millie.

He raised Persian horses on the farm,
back in Elgin, Illinois.

- He's not going to remember, David.
- I remember everything.

Sharp as a tack.

Dunc.

May I call you Dunc?

Dunc, you used to work in the museum.

35 years.

Do you ever remember seeing this girl?

You know, the native girls in the
Pacific had hair like that.

Black as alabaster.

Once I was on shore leave and

the chief petty officer and I,
we-- we made screwdrivers.

Orange juice and torpedo fluid.

- That will put hair on your chest, I'll tell you.
- Oh, ho!

- Well, anyway, we met these native girls--
- Pop, Pop, Pop...

hang on one second.
Here, take this pen

and just sign your name
right here on the dotted line.

- David, you can't do that.
- Boy, are you a stickler.

Uh, Pop, the museum, this girl--

Girl? This girl?

- David, it's hopeless.
- Hey, you are a pretty thing.

And tall.

Always liked my gals tall.

Mr. Kennedy, thanks so much.
Sorry we bothered you.

Oh, 0h, don't run off.
I don't get a lot of visitors.

Here, take a load off.

Wheel of Fortune will be on any minute.

Today, our 17 semi-finalists will compete

- Sit down, damn it.
- Yeah, okay.

And who will walk away with a whole
home full of new and luxurious prizes.

Vanna's got a nice smile,
but the rest of her, eh,

skin and bones.

No, sirree, give me a gal
with a little meat on her.

Pearls of wisdom, Dunc.

Pearls of wisdom.

Mr. Kennedy, we really
have to be going now.

I know this woman.

She had the most beautiful green eyes.

Face like an angel.

Came out of nowhere, stayed a while.

Never saw her again.

But I've never forgotten her.

Get me The Sun.
Get me The Times.

Get me the Sun-Times.
Get me the Sunday Times.

I want Dan Rather. I want Barbara Walters.
I want Walter Cronkite.

Call the encyclopedia people.
Tell them to make room. Volume A, Addison.

Good afternoon.

If this checks out, we got a headline.

- When does this stuff ever check out?
- Hey, just stick around, folks.

You might be surprised.

Ellen Dunbar.
Newsweek.

- I'm a big fan.
- Nice to meet you, Ellen.

Well, sir, you certainly
did an excellent job

at turning out the fourth estate.

Got a stringer from ABC News.

All the local newspapers.

Spy magazine.
MAD Magazine.

Oh, and by the way, the roof has been
secured for Connie Chung's chopper.

- Very good. Thank you, girls.
- I take it Miss Hayes

will not be here to bask
in the limelight along with us.

Miss Hayes will be just fine.

She needs a little
counseling and bed rest.

She did seem a trifle agitated.

Well, Miss Hayes is a very private person.

That thought of all those shutterbugs together
in one room made her adrenal glands spasm.

Well, sir, there is
one other small problem.

It's T-minus three minutes 'til showtime
and Brock Ash has still not shown.

You call yourself a showman?

The man probably just wants
to make an entrance.

However, I will take
a look down the hallway

and see if maybe he got lost.

How's my hair?
How are my teeth?

How's the dimple look?

- What time is it?
- With all due respect, sir,

it's about 30 seconds later
than the last time you asked.

Maybe he had car trouble.

Maybe he was sicker than he thought.

- You're not suggesting--
- You don't suppose...

No, no. We'll give him a few more minutes.

Bert, you've got to go in there
and stir the pot up a little bit

for me while I put out
an APB for this moron.

You want me to go in there
and talk to those reporters?

Do barnyard noises, crepitations,
world leader impressions, I don't care.

- Anything. Just keep them occupied.
- Sorry, sir. I can't do that.

What do you mean, you can't do that?
You gotta do that.

No, I'd love to do that, sir,
but all those faces looking at me.

All those minds weighing,
judging, evaluating.

Shredding me. I--

I'm just no good with people, sir.

- Bert, you can't cave in on me now.
- I'm feeling a little woozy.

- G. Gordon Liddy... had a thing about rodents.
- One of my heroes.

And then one mouthful of rat tartare,
and he was a new man.

Those people in there, Bert,
that's the cure for what ails you.

Now go in there, look them in
the eye and start yakking.

Excuse me.

Um...

First of all...

Uh, on behalf of the-- of the
entire moon here at Blue staff,

I mean, uh, uh...

Well, I would just like to--

To, uh, to express to all of you

how much your-- your presence
here means to us today.

Aye-yi-yi, somebody get the hook.

That's right. A-S-H.

No patient listed under that name.

Okay, thank you very much.

Yeah, operator, give me a listing
for the highway patrol, please.

And while you're at it, give me
a listing for the county morgue.

Man, after all, has always
strived for perfection.

The perfect liftoff.
The perfect martini.

The perfect pair of breasts.

Just as one mammal's regurgitation
is another mammal's ambergris.

And so, with the sweet perfume of
history as our stalwart ally,

we come to understand
that the perfect crime

is exactly that.

I'm telling you,
I looked at--

Never mind.
He just walked in.

Brock. All right, listen,
pull yourself together.

We have got to go out here and throw the
press a bone right now, all right?

Mr. Addison, I'd like you
to cancel this news conference.

What are you talking about?

I have nothing to say
to the press. I'm not feeling--

Well, you're not feeling good. Here,
come over here. Sit down. Sit down, look.

Brock, I know what you're going through.

You're a little nervous, you're upset.

I'm not going to die.

Well, Brock, we all
have to go sooner or later,

and whether you go sooner
or a little later--

Apparently, my departure's scheduled
for later rather than sooner.

My condition is a self-limiting virus

that mimics all the symptoms
of a terminal disease.

And now, here he is, the man of the hour...

- You're gonna pull through?
- I got the test results this morning.

Sleuth extraordinaire...

What about your confession? Why,
we have signed affidavit here

from the-- from the guard who said
he positively identifies your wife.

It corroborates your story. There's no way
we can't slam this through, slam dunk.

Detective beyond compare...

Mr. Addison, I can look forward
to a speedy recovery

and a long and prosperous life.

Wouldn't make sense to spend
it behind bars, would it?

The man who ratiocinated
his way up the ranks...

Look, look, I'm--
don't get me wrong.

I am very happy to hear
about your good news but...

this puts me in an awkward
position here. I--

Who deduced and reasoned
what no other could...

- Not my problem.
- What do you mean, it's not your problem?

You're the one that wanted a story.

A legacy, remember?
You wanted a legacy?

Legacies are for the deceased,

and the actuarials for
a man my age would suggest

I won't be joining their
numbers for quite some time.

The keenest eye...

Mr. Ash, even if
I could forget about this,

I have a responsibility to report
this to the proper authorities.

The sharpest mind...

I mean, we can't just ask the cat to

jump back in the bag
once it's out, can we?

Let's give a big
Blue Moon welcome--

To Mr. David Addison!

Ash! Ash!

Excuse me.

Stay right where you are.

Be back in a minute.

Mr. Addison.

You checked the lobby and the garage?

And still no sign of him.

All right, thank you very much.

Well, guess we can kiss our Ash goodbye.

I'm sorry, sir.

- Morning, Miss DiPesto.
- Morning, Miss Hayes.

It's good to see everything getting
back to normal around here.

I wouldn't exactly say
things are back to normal.

Still hot under the collar
about his media non-event?

Bitter, angry, dejected, depressed.

I overheard him call USA Today
and tell them they didn't have

David Addison to kick around anymore.

Oh, brother.

- David?
- Yo.

Sorry, I was a little tense yesterday.

Yeah, you were a little tense yesterday.

I'm also sorry about what
happened with Brock Ash.

It's no big deal.

Right.

I know you don't want to hear this,

but I think things
worked out for the best.

Well, I'm glad that you're
glad a guilty man got away.

I didn't say that.

I'm just saying I'm relieved that,
as far as we're concerned, the case is closed.

The case is closed!

It will be as soon as
I catch this guy and nail him.

Oh, I see.

He schtised you, and now
you're gonna schtise him.

- Payback. Law of the jungle.
- Revenge. This is not the jungle.

Yeah, well, then let me give
you a nobler motivation.

Cash, and lots of it.

The museum's insurance carrier's
already out a couple mil

on the two Egyptian masks Brock Ash stole.

They're very anxious to express their
gratitude for putting him behind bars.

You know, I think I'd feel better if I thought
your motives were purely mercenary.

Stand up.

Ash snatched the brass ring
right out of your hand.

The affidavit's gone.

- You're an opportunist, David.
- Duncan Kennedy's room, please.

- Brock Ash provided you with a golden opportunity.
- Would you tell him,

- David Addison, called please.
- Only this isn't real achievement.

- I'd like to come by. I need to get his
name on-- - This is riding someone e|se's

- coat tails, cashing in.
- Yeah, thank you very much.

Duncan Kennedy just cashed out.

Oh...

Well, the nose looks right, but there's
something about the jaw that's off.

It needs to be more chiseled.

I'll never forget those pouty,
bee-stung lips.

The kiss of blush
beneath those cheekbones.

We're gonna get this out on the wire today

and thanks to you two,
Ash won't get too far.

The department really wants to
thank you for your cooperation.

We can't let him go around
strangling people in their beds.

Well, most PIs wouldn't see it that way.

They'd wanna make the collar and grab
all the glory for themselves.

Well, you can rest assured, officer,
you're looking at a couple

dyed-in-the-wool do-gooders.
You let your Jim Rockfords

and your Joe Mannixes
go for the glory. Not us.

Mr. Addison, may I speak
with you for a moment?

Yeah. Excuse me.

Squeezed a frail
I used to run with.

Took some juice, but I ran
a make on those wheels.

- And I have got the dirt on this stiff.
- What?

Well, the car I followed
Ash down to that clay.

I ran a description of it by a friend of
mine who works down at the auto club.

Look, a rental leased to Ash.

That's the address.
A downtown hotel.

Berw-boy, if this pans out,
I'll dedicate my memoirs to you. Thanks.

Maddie, gotta go. The Anselmo case has reached
a flash point. It's general quarters.

Officers, if there's anything we can do,
don't hesitate to hesitate.

Come on, will ya?

This doesn't look like the kind of hotel Mr.
Anselmo would stay at.

Well, that depends which
Anselmos you're talking about.

The West Coast Anselmos lost all
their money in the October crash.

The East Coast Anselmos,
on the other hand, stayed rather fluid.

I have the distinct
feeling I'm being shanghaied

into another one of your secret agendas.

Nonsense. Room service.

I thought he was expecting us.

Mr. Anselmo!
Maddie Hayes and David Addison!

Oh, now, look.
You went and spooked him.

Whoa!

- That was Brock Ash.
- I wonder what's he's doing here?

You mean, you knew where he was all the
time and you didn't tell the police?

I knew nothing of the kind.
It's bad enough he murdered a man, let alone

stick his nose in the Anselmo
case. The fiend.

Ah!

What are you waiting for? There goes
your chance to be part of history.

There goes my chance to become a pizza.

Are you sure it says we gotta do this
in the script? Sweeps week is over.

- Out of my way.
- Wait a second. Wait a second. This is man's work.

- Watch it. Watch it!
- I'm just trying to help.

Whoa, whoa, no!

- No, no!
- David!

Thank you.

All right, look, Spiderman.

Why don't you and me go inside? Come on.

We slip inside, order up a mess
of flies from room service.

Sorry, Mr. Addison, but I intend to spend
the rest of my life on a beach somewhere.

Come on, you're all washed up, Ash.

These ledges just go around and around.
There's no way down.

Well, then it becomes a test
of endurance, Mr. Addison.

If I were a betting man,
I'd put my money on the cat burglar.

- Hold on, Dave's coming.
- David, be careful.

Now, Maddie, you're starting to
repeat yourself in your old age.

Mr. Addison, the mask
I stole was cursed.

- I'd hate to see you fall victim.
- Cursed-shmursed, hang on.

- I can't.
- Come on, hang on.

You're just trying to get out of
that dinner you're gonna owe me.

I get to choose the restaurant.

David!

At least Brock Ash's obituary will make the
morning paper. That would have made him happy.

Yeah, he made quite a splash all right.

David, there's nothing
you could have done.

Double nothing, would have been

a whole lot better than what I did.

Maddie, I'm gonna go on record here.

You were right. I was wrong.
No hemmin', no hawin'.

We shouldn't have taken this case.

Just because I didn't
want you to take this case

doesn't mean you were wrong.

You were passionate about this.
You wanted to see it through.

And if I'd let well enough alone,

Brock Ash wouldn't be one
with the sidewalk right now.

- It was an accident.
- It was not an accident.

He was on that ledge because I
chased him out on that ledge.

You chased him out on that ledge
because he was running away.

And he wouldn't have been running
away if he wasn't guilty.

- Doesn't mean he had to die.
- He killed a man.

Hold it, hold it, hold it. Before this
turns into some bloodless, long-winded,

abstract, lecturing debate about capital
punishment or prison reform

or how Brock Ash was
probably some middle child

because middle children
always have it the roughest,

let me nip this bud.
A man died.

- I could have stopped it, and I didn't.
- You did everything you could!

- I've gotta live with that, Maddie.
- For crying out loud, David,

you risked your life to save that guy.

But it takes two to hold on,
and he couldn't.

I wonder what the last thing that went
through his mind was when he fell.

Well, I can guarantee you
it wasn't the perfect crime.

I was with my grandfather when he died.

He was a big wheel on the Chicago
commodities exchange.

All he can talk about was a snow
fort he built when he was 9.

He packed the snow in shoe boxes
and used slush as mortar.

The walls were eight feet tall.

And then the January thaw
came along, and it was gone.

- He couldn't hold on.
- Well, David, he was 97.

No. No. I mean, Brock Ash.

He had both hands around the belt,
his feet were on the wall

— but he couldn't keep a grip?
- He had been very sick.

Yeah, if he couldn't hold on
tight enough to save his life,

he sure as hell couldn't
have squeezed hard enough

- to crush Duncan Kennedy's larynx.
- If he didn't do it, who did?

Maybe, we should go back to the
scene of the perfect crime.

Miss Hayes.

I hope Monsignor Viola
got back to Rome safely.

- Mr. Viola is not a monsignor.
- Yeah, he got defrocked.

Something about some whipped
cream and a feather duster.

- I'm sorry.
- Yeah, well he landed on his feet.

- Got a gig as pit boss in Vegas.
- Miss Van Driggle--

- Briggle.
- We're private detectives.

- This is my associate, David Addison.
- Is anything wrong?

We'd like to ask you few questions about a guard
who used to work here, Duncan Kennedy.

Oh, Duncan.
What a terrific old gentlemen.

- He was strangled last night.
- Oh, no. Oh!

Well, that's awful. Who would
have done such a thing?

We have reason to believe that he knew
something about an notorious burglary

that occurred quite a few years ago.

The man who committed the actual
crime died last night.

Now, he said that he stole
a famous Egyptian mask.

From Amenhotep's temple
at Luxor. It was priceless.

But the insurance company is offering rewards
for a whole laundry list of items.

Obviously the thief is lying.

Oh, he was lying.
Yes, he-- he was lying.

He actually confessed to a crime much
larger than the one that he committed.

We think someone was trying to piggyback
on the criminal's perfect crime.

Poor Duncan.

What happened to your nails?

I, uh, broke one last night

so I decided to cut them all off.

I don't know too many women who would cut
off nine nails for the sake of one.

I'm a stickler for symmetry.

Don't you just hate getting those little
bits of evidence under your fingernails?

It just ruins a girl's manicure.

Duncan Kennedy called you, didn't he?

To warn you that we'd been to see him.

What fertile imaginations you both have.

Let's go.

Hey, my lips.

Stop those lips.

Come on, Maddie, get in.

Let's go.

David, we can't drive this.
It's a work of art.

Art-shmart, Van Briggle's
giving us the wiggle. Hang on.

NO! No!

No!

A full twist with a double pike.

I give it a 9.5.

Oh, God!

Hey, who turned out the lights?

Turn, David, turn, turn!

David!

- David, look. Turn, turn!
- This is tricky, Maddie.

Rebel Without a Cause,
lames Dean.

- He died in the end.
- Oh, yeah.

- Hit the brakes, David.
- Brakes? What brakes?

Talk about life imitating art.

Now, I could make a double entendre here.

But I'm doing my part
to clean up the airwaves.

Just say no to innuendo.

Hang on, Maddie.

Shark!

Made you look.
Hang on, Maddie.

David, get me off this thing.

Well, this is a good shade for you.

Slide down.

Slide down here.

- There.
- Oh, David, look what you've done.

Oh.

Hey, pal, look,
I'm really sorry.

If you got a hammer or something,
I'll help you fix it.

Fix it?

I wanna worship it.

" Huh?
" Huh?

I now realize it.

All I did was assemble the raw
materials for your vision.

But you, you gave it wings,
dimension, scope.

- Pith.
- Pith?

Yew.

The last 10,000 years
of artistic expression

have simply been a prelude to this moment.

I want to know everything about your work.

Well, I showed early promise
in Miss Mather's class.

It was in the second grade.

I worked mostly with
crayons and Lincoln Logs.

Then, I began doing things
with Mr. Potato Head

that no one had ever done before.

In my college years,
I moved on to performance art

drinking vast quantities of beer
and throwing up on the carpet.

- Hey, Miss Hayes, did you hear the great news?
- What?

All this time, Mr. Addison's been a genius,
and we didn't even know about it.

Although, I always sensed
a hidden reservoir of talent.

Look, he even autographed it for me.

Oh, brother.

Congratulations.

You've finally earned
your place in history.

A QOO-a-day per chem.

- And a limousine.
- A limo?

A stretch.

It's all set. You have been
commissioned to install

a 12-foot pile of underwear in the Place
de La Concorde. You leave tonight.

- Leave for where?
- Paris.

- Texas?
- They want my oeuvre in the Louvre.

Oh, David, you were in a wreck.

You're lucky they didn't
revoke your license.

And now a bunch of art sheep
are saying you're a master?

- That's hysterical.
- Hey, I don't make the rules.

Well, you might as well just put
your artistic endeavors on hold

because we have a ton of work
to do around here.

It's tax time and we have to
close out the corporation.

- Well isn't there something we can do en route?
- En route?

Quill You're coming with me, aren't you?

I did negotiate for two
round trip tickets.

To Paris?

- Sure. I've gotta go pack.
- No, no, no.

Go exactly as you are.

I'll need to bone up on your anatomy

for an extremely ambitious
nude by yours truly.

Vincent van Addison.

And I know just what you should
cut off and send in the mail.

What?