All language subtitles for Mannix s1e12_Turn Every Stone

You really think

that story's going
to get to the Mafia, huh?

I'll tell you tomorrow

after the bombs are
planted in your car.

(ticker tape clicking)

What about this item?

Yeah.

The old man really had me
fooled for a long time.

Miniver may be a country
politician, my boy,

who worked his way
up to the state senate,

but he really knows
how to take

a fast buck
out of the public purse.

I wish you'd check
this sort of thing with me.

I'm paid for legal advice,
not for polishing white armor.

It's in the finest
tradition of the press.

It's also a fine libel suit if
you can't back up every word.

You worry too much.

Hello. This is Boswell.

Is he in?

Just a moment, please.

It's Mr. Boswell, Mr. Abernathy.

It's Boswell.

Yeah.

Honey, uh,
could you please

go type some letters
or something?

Sid, don't leave the man hanging
on the telephone.

Talk to him.

Hello, Homer.

Listen, that story you gave me
on Miniver

is going to hit the streets
in about 15 minutes.

I just want to make sure
we have the proof

to back up
the senator's hanky-panky.

Tell him to hold on a minute.

Just a minute.

You're not actually
letting that story out

without the proof in your hand?

Lowell, I know the source.

It's 100% reliable.

Nobody's that reliable.

One slip-up and you'll have
a lawsuit against you

that'll put you on a
street corner peddling pencils.

Now, who's the source?

It's privileged.

Oh.

You hear that?

I have a very nervous lawyer
over here.

I'd like to calm him down.

When am I going
to get that material?

Uh...

He wants the material.

You know what to say,

and you know what's going
to happen if you don't say it.

Now, come on, talk to him.

Homer, there's been
a slight hang-up,

but it's all ironed out now.

As a matter of fact,

the messenger is on his way over
to you with the proof.

Well, that's good enough for me.

At least we'll get
the story out in time

to stop Senator Miniver's
legislation, right?

Right, Homer.

You can depend on it.

Come on, Sid-o.

Cheer up.

Gloria would hate to tell

that old embezzlement story
about you.

Now she don't have to.

If your informant
isn't totally reliable,

you and this newspaper
are finished.

See you later.

Edna?

Get your things packed,
kid, we're leaving.

Where?

I want to put
lots of miles

between me and
this place fast.

(theme music playing)

� �

� �

� �

MAN:
Mannix?

I'm the manager, Western area.

How are you,
Traynor?

I expected you
to report to my office.

Well, I wanted to check out a
few things on the case first.

Say, who's this
Daniel Turpin?

He's a lobbyist.

We're late.

Come on, Mr. Boswell
is expecting you.

Uh, Boswell can wait.

He's the client,

and his attorney
who's representing...

Yeah, I read your
reports on the client.

He's a 605.

You were assigned
to this office.

Now this case...
I'd like to
talk to Dan Turpin.

Where can
I find him?

Mannix,
you don't just walk in

on Dan Turpin.

(grunting)

(grunts)

All right, Turpin, let's
take it from the top

now that the "no" vote
has been eliminated.

Y-You've got,
you've got no right to...

No argument.

I got no right bothering
you with a lot of questions.

You made your point, now
answer the questions.

Well, sure,
I know Senator Miniver.

I--

Could I get some milk,
please?

When I'm nervous,
my stomach...

Go ahead.

No, thanks.

I know two
dozen senators,

as many newspapermen,
Boswell included.

I know 30 members
of the Assembly.

That's my business.

You've done Miniver
a lot of favors,

like that tip on the Vanco
and Company stock.

Oh, stop your shaking.

I'm not the State
Investigating Committee.

I want to know
if Miniver's got his hand out

for small gifts.

On my mother's grave,
I swear I don't know.

Miniver likes money
but doesn't like Boswell.

Would he plant a phony item
on himself

so he could sue Boswell
and collect a million dollars?

Would he tell me,
practically a casual friend,

an intimate thing like that?

You're not being very helpful.

If you knew what was going on
inside my stomach,

you'd know how hard I'm trying.

Just for your stomach,

who'd be in the best position to
plant a phony item with Boswell,

one that he'd believe and use?

In this town, the milkman
moonlights peddling rumors.

Who'd tip
Homer?

Go in any building,
get off on any floor,

open any door,
and you'll be looking at a guy

that'll swear
on his mother's grave

that he has inside information.

Cut it to informants
Boswell would trust.

I don't know why I drink
it; it doesn't do any good.

Who would he trust?

Chuck Taylor, Sid Abernathy,
probably Phil Reilly.

Now, please,

let me enjoy my stomach ache
in peace and quiet.

I can't work in the dark.

I need information.

You're paid to
collect information.

If you can't prove that the
story Homer printed is true,

we've no defense
against the libel suit.

I also don't like
your bothering Dan Turpin.

He's not involved in this.

Now, you're being paid
to prove the senator's guilty,

not to intimidate
innocent people.

If Dan Turpin
is innocent,

why didn't he call the police
and have me arrested?

Because he's a friend of mine.

He called me, he thought
you were carrying out my orders.

If this job is too tough,
just say so.

Tough, I don't mind,
but you're making it impossible.

The report
from the local office reads,

"Client: Homer Boswell, 605."

That's code
for uncooperative.

Uncooperative?

Gentlemen, please.

You're calling me uncooperative

because I refuse to reveal
the name of my informant?

It's a man I know very well,
a man I trust.

I told him
he would be kept out of this.

Maybe you'd better keep me
out of it.

Get yourself another boy.

Mr. Mannix, please.

You're being
unreasonable, Homer.

You were promised evidence
would be delivered--

it never was.

You admit you can't
reach your informant.

Well, why has he disappeared?

How do I know?

What am I supposed to do,
just sell him down the river

because he doesn't
answer the telephone?

Oh, that's beautiful.

A million-dollar lawsuit
can be won or lost

depending on whether or not some
fly-by-night is trustworthy.

Well, understand
Boswell's position.

If word gets out that
he reveals his sources,

he might as well fold
his tent and slip
away in the night.

Well, he'd better
reveal his sources,

or he won't have
a tent to fold.

He's got no libel insurance.

(phone rings)
That'll be
your call.

Yeah, Lou?

Boswell wants me to assign
half a dozen agents to help you.

Help me what, uh,
argue with the client?

I told him you worked alone.

Look, Lou, I want off this case.

What he needs is a mind reader,
not a detective.

Look, Joe, as a favor,
please stay with it.

Now, Boswell's stubborn,
he can be unreasonable,

but he's also quite a guy--
he puts out a paper

the way it should be done,
the kind we need.

I don't mind applauding him,
just working for him.

Well, look, do what you can--
he's worth it.

Now, what gives?

Well, uh, Boswell's attorney
leans toward the theory

that somebody would profit
by the defeat of Miniver's bill,

which died the minute
the paper hit the streets.

Any alternative?

There's always the syndicate.

They're out to get Boswell.

Well, you're the detective--
what do you think?

I think I'll go to lunch.

(line clicks)

Thank you.

(phone ringing)

(music box playing
"Beautiful Dreamer")

Oh, it's lovely!

It's perfectly lovely!

Well, thank you.

Slovakian?

Y-You know about music boxes?

I've been collecting them
for years.

My boss, Senator Miniver,

says if I bring any
in the office, he'll fire me.

But he doesn't mean it.

Well, nobody could
not like music boxes.

(music box playing melody)

I keep sesame seeds in this
for a 4:00 energy pickup.

You know, I'm, uh,
I'm saving my money

to buy a hand-carved
dancing couple.

It was made in the Black Forest

around the turn
of the century.

Of course, it isn't signed,
but they say it's authentic.

Should be here in a few days.

Oh, I'd love to see it!

Well, I'd be happy
to show it to you.

By the way,
I'm Joe Mannix.

Muriel Pochek.

Missus.

A long time ago, but
I'm still entitled

to the label.

Do you have a large collection?

Well, I have, uh, let me see,

uh, 25... no, 26 with this one.

Well, I have over 50.

Say, would you like
to come and see them?

Oh, well, I sure would.

Could I?

What good's a collection

if you can't show off and brag
to another collector?

Are you free tonight?

Oh, yes, yes.

Well, I'm at the Dumont Arms.

Anytime after 8:00.

� �

� �

(whirring)

I've got Chuck Taylor
and Phil Reilly
under surveillance.

Abernathy seems
to be out of town.

We're assembling the data
on all these three men.

We should have all of it
by early this evening.

If you want to see the
preliminary, I can, uh...

Uh, no, no, I'll wait
for the main event.

Look, would you check out
this license number.

It's a green sedan.

Well, now wait.

I've got all of Boswell's
exposes for you to read,

particularly those
on organized crime.

We've also got
Miniver's background.

If you wait, I'll put
them on printout.

Oh, that's good work.

Don't you want
to see it?
Well, not really.

You see, I came
in the front way

to go out the back way
and lose a tail.

I, uh, have a date
tonight

and I'd like
to be alone.

(buzzer)

You'd be Mr. Mannix,
I presume.

And, uh,

you, of course, are
Senator Miniver.

Mmm, come in.

Hmm, health foods.

That should reinforce
the impression on Muriel.

Oh, she's not here.

We're quite alone.

I'm afraid, I
don't understand.

My secretary, Mr. Mannix,

returned from lunch floating
on a gossamer cloud.

Normally
an excellent typist,

she committed
blunders inexcusable

in a one-fingered
chimpanzee.

When called to account,

she babbled
about a handsome, young man

who was an expert
on music boxes.

Therefore, I asked myself:

How many handsome young men
collect music boxes

and strike up an acquaintance
with my Mrs. Pochek?

Is there anything wrong

in collecting
music boxes?

In a city where women
outnumber men three to one,

I can think of more
probable hobbies

for someone like you.

(soft music box playing)
No, Mr. Mannix.

I think you're employed
by Mr. Boswell

in the hope of discovering
my secret vices,

something to make me
withdraw my law suit.

Well, do you, uh, have
secret vices, Senator?

My hands
are clean.

My life, public
and private,

immaculate.

If they're not,

a million dollars would buy
an awful lot of soap.

Mr. Boswell caused me
personal suffering

and an important piece
of legislation was killed.

That "important piece
of legislation"

was a minor dam set so far back
in the mountains

that it would be lost
the minute it was built.

Your client accused me

of standing to
gain a fortune

from the ownership of
stock in a company
controlling land

around that
dam site.

Three months ago,
I divested myself

of all that ownership
and gave the stock
to charity.

If public vindication is
all you're looking for,

a written retraction
would take care of that.

Give me one reason for making
things easy for Mr. Boswell.

I can give you a reason
why you shouldn't.

You're up for reelection soon.

You'd like to start improving
your image.

Hiring a public
relations outfit,

on a state senator's pay,
isn't easy.

Of course, a million dollars...

You're implying I hope to
capitalize on the opportunity.

Or the opportunity was
deliberately manufactured.

You could have planted
that item yourself.

Put your hands up.

(cocking gun)

Please, stand very still
and put your hands up,

because I'm quite
nervous and, uh,

I've had no
experience
with guns.

I told you I
was nervous,

so please stand
very still.

Lady, if I stand any stiller,
rigor mortis sets in.

Oh.

Well, I-I'm
Edna Dacey,

Mr. Abernathy's
private secretary.

Who are you?

Mannix.
I'm with Intertect.

I'm looking
for your boss.

Somebody did a
thorough job.

Yeah, I see.

Any idea what's missing?

Besides your
boss, that is?

Oh, he's not missing.

He phoned. He told me
to close up the office.

He's away for a month.

Yeah, where?

He didn't say.

Hmm.

Well, now, somebody
wants something.

Have any idea what it might be?

No.

There's nothing in our files
worth stealing.

Hmm.
You see something?

It's what I
don't see.

There are four pages
missing from this book.

I guess they got
what they came after.

I wonder if they
left with it?

What would you say

if I suggested searching
that bag?

I'd say you don't have
a very trusting nature.

It's part of the job, Edna.

It's a proving ground
for cynics.

Be my guest.

Thanks.

Suppose I told you
I'd hidden it

in a secret compartment
in my garter belt.

Don't tempt me.

Yeah, well, uh,

uh, tell me...

would a nice thick steak and
a vintage bottle of burgundy

help restore your faith in me?

It might, only, uh...

A sick aunt?

Uncle.

Uncle.

Yeah, well,

this has not been
one of my better days.

Oh.

Klamath 54906?

Mm-hmm.

Call before noon.

(car tires screeching)

(crashing)

You know, I have the whole
office gathering information

which you won't bother
to look at,

but at 3:00 in the morning,

you want to know whether
Abernathy's gone fishing!

Yeah, well, the fresh water
fishing season just opened,

and, uh, judging
by Abernathy's office,

he couldn't pass
a gold fish bowl

without throwing
in a line.

Do you know how
many lakes,

how many streams and
reservoirs there are

within a hundred-mile
radius of here?

Wherever Abernathy is,

he's probably cashing checks,
or using a credit card.

Or spending cash.

Well, we've got to hope
it's not cash.

Anyway, why don't you
get a list

of all of the cancelled checks
from Abernathy's bank;

where and by whom
they were cashed.

And do the same thing

with all the credit card
agencies.

Aren't you overlooking
a fourth possibility?

What's that?

That Abernathy's dead.

(phone rings)

Traynor here.

Yeah.

That number you got
from the girl at
Abernathy's...

Yeah?
N.G.

Mr. Wickersham's
coming on the line.

Yeah, Lou.

Boswell called me.

The news of the libel suit
hit the fan.

The paper may shut down.

Yeah, well, whoever set Boswell
up has done a pretty good job.

They'll destroy him unless we
can prove Miniver's on the take.

Joe, I'm not telling you
how to work on the case,

I'm not putting pressure
on you...

You're also not telling me
some bad news.

Let's hear it, Lou.

Boswell is a big man.

He's asked me to help.
I can't refuse.

Well, uh,

if this town is big enough

for the Republicans
and the Democrats,

I guess there's no reason
why you and I can't share it.

I've got copies of all reports.

I'll read them on the plane.

Yeah, well, uh,
just to keep Traynor happy,

somebody ought to read them.

Do what you can on
that Abernathy thing.

I'll phone in.

Oh, the green
sedan, huh?

Well, there's nothing

like a nice early morning
ride in the country.

Mrs. Dover?

(dog barking in distance)

You want free air, free water
or free battery service?

No, I, uh...
Well, you sure don't want gas,
or you wouldn't park there.

You are Mrs. Dover?
Yep.

You have a car registered
to you, a green sedan.

Henry?

You trying to
sell me insurance?

Process server?

That car could've been
in an accident.

Henry don't like
process servers.

And when Henry
don't like somebody,
he swings a mean ax.

Um, no, actually,
I'm not selling, I'm buying.

What and for how much?

Information. $20?

Henry don't like sharp traders.

Who was driving that
green sedan last night?

Well...

What has he ever done for me?

Does he care?

My own son,
he wouldn't lift a finger.

That lazy, no-good Cornwall,
that's who took the car.

Took off a week ago--
not a word.

Did he leave
a forwarding address?

To forward what,
his comic books?

What about, uh, friends
or business associates?

Business associates?

Run around all night
and sleep all day--

that's a business?

And his friends I
wouldn't know about.

They all look alike to me.

Long hair and dirty fingernails.

Mrs. Dover, uh, is there anyone
who might help me find him?

Well, Cornwall's girlfriend,
Gloria Turnbull.

She might know.
Where could I find her?

I wouldn't know.

I, uh, I got a picture
of her inside.

I could let you have that

if it'd help any.
Couldn't hurt.

Henry.

Of course, um...

it's in an awful
expensive frame.

Oh, well, naturally,
I figured it would be.

There you are.

That...

is Gloria Turnbull?

That's Cornwall
there on the right.

Yeah, thanks.

Uh, mind if I use
your phone?
Go ahead.

I got no stock
in the phone company.

(coins clinking)

Yeah, Mannix, here.

Get me Traynor.

Traynor, listen,

I want a rundown on a girl
named Gloria Turnbull.

Gloria Turnbull?

Right. Hang on.

(keyboard keys clicking)

Suzanne?

Gloria Turnbull-- dig up
everything available on her.

Now, I've got something for you.

You wanted Abernathy?

That credit card angle
of yours was inspired.

We've located him for you.

� �

� �

Hey, mister!

What's going on?

Hey, mister!

Wait!

Hey!

Hey, mister.

Hey, mister, wait!

You can't take that boat!

(engine starting)

Hey, mister!

Come on back with that boat!

It's not for free!

Come on back here!

Come on back
with that boat!

Come on back!

(engine humming loudly)

(engine purring quietly)

(reel whirring)

(loud boat engine revving)

(gunshot)

(gunshots)

(engine sputtering)

(gunshot)

(gun chamber cocking)

(engine revving)

Sid was like a brother to me.

He got me my first
newspaper job.

He's my son's
godfather.

He might be alive
if you'd told us his name.

Homer, face it-- Abernathy
deliberately set you up.

He did not
deliberately set me up.

Not Sid.

Okay, not Sid.

Who?

What about the girl that
claimed she was Sid's
secretary, what about her?

We have a computer check on her.

She was Abernathy's ex-wife.

Divorced seven years ago.

No criminal record.

Then why don't you
dig into Miniver?

He's going to win a million
dollars in this libel suit.

That seems like a very
good reason to me.

Mr. Boswell, you edit
an excellent paper.

You've had training
and experience.

What are your qualifications
as a detective?

Thank you, Chris.

Well, there's nothing here.

Here are copies for you.

As you'll notice,

there were no large deposits

in Abernathy's bank
account prior to, uh...

Wait a minute.

That's interesting.

I'll see you later.

Mm-hmm.

Office supplies,
car rentals, liquor--

what's the matter, is
that the first time

Mr. Mannix has ever seen a
monthly expense report?

He saw something else.

Like what?
There's not one item on here

that couldn't be duplicated
in a thousand different...

Mr. Boswell, please stay out
of detective work.

This.

$200, publications,
Fleetway Messenger Service.

I spend several hundred dollars
a month on publications.

It's the only way you can keep
up with what's going on.

All right.

You pay a newsstand,
a magazine, or a book store.

Have you ever
ordered publications

from a messenger service?

Who is it?

MANNIX:
Fleetway Messenger.

Who do you want?

Cornwall Dover.

Ow! My back!

You lose-- Scout's honor.

What do you want?

Right now, I'll settle for

how, why and by whom
Boswell was framed.

Dig him-- a dreamer.

You know, that libel case won't
come to trial for two years.

That ought to give me a lot of
time to get you to cooperate.

I don't really need this.

It just saves me the trouble
of proving that I don't.

Oh, wait a minute.

I'm a good loser, really.

Easy come, easy go.

Only I haven't got the big word
to give you what you want.

Sounds like the beginning
of a proposition.

What's the rest?

I gotta make a phone call.

Uh, really.

You can hear what I say, okay?

It's a private number.

(phone dialing)

(loud rattling)

Hello, Gloria?

It's me.

Hey, look I got Mannix here.

Well, I haven't exactly got him.

Anyway, he's here
and he wants the stuff

and I'd kind of like
to give it to him.

She say ten grand.

Deal... after I see that I'm
getting what I paid for.

No. She's saying no,
definitely no.

How do I know I'm not going
to get an envelope

full of old comic books?

Come on.

Gloria.

Sorry to hang you up,
but we're haggling.

She say, "Don't haggle."

All right, deal.

We'll use the Fleetway
Messenger Service.

One messenger will pick up
the money from us,

another will pick up
the information from you.

We'll arrange for them
to meet some place

where we can
both be protected.

Okay, okay.

Gloria, have the stuff
ready at 3:00.

A messenger from Fleetway
will pick it up

where you and me met yesterday.

Bye-bye.

Okay.

Go, man, go!

Get that beautiful ten grand.

No, no chance.

You don't get
out of my sight

until after the deal's
closed at 3:00.

Give me that phone.

Oh, man, you're really
nowhere, you know that!

Selling Abernathy
old comic books

at a hundred or two a pop--

that's a pretty cheesy
cover up for blackmail.

What do you mean, blackmail?

He was a collector
of comic books.

It's a big
thing, really.

Come on.
(phone dialing)

Abernathy wouldn't know
an old comic book

unless it had fins and a tail.

His ex-wife
got something on him?

Yeah, Mannix here.
Get me Wickersham.

You can't prove a thing.

I'm not going to try,
if you're a nice boy.

Lew, I'm going to need

ten grand--
just charge it to account 714.

A messenger will pick up
the money from us

and deliver the information
that will clear Boswell.

Yeah, and after they deliver
that call me at Klondike 5-6237.

Oh, and I'd like to check out
another phone number,

but I only got the first four
digits by the clicks.

It got a little
noisy after that.

Yeah, the first four
digits are 5553.

Yeah, well, I
know there are

a thousand possible
numbers left, Lew.

But I have the greatest
confidence in those
expensive computers.

Be philosophical, Lew,
just think of what

your electrical bill
would have been

if I'd only got
the first three digits.

(click)

On the telephone numbers
Mannix requested,

if a telephone number is listed
under a company name,

I want a rundown
on personnel employed.

Yes, sir.

Of course, that means
a lot of hard work

and a very slim chance.

Can you think of any reason
for hiring a detective

if there would be no work

and the chance
of solution excellent?

No, sir.

As per your 714
code request,

here are the serial numbers
requested by Mannix.

Thank you.

I'm surprised we could get
those papers for $10,000.

It's shocking.

It's in a class
all by itself.

These are lies.

Senator, do you
deny that $20,000

was deposited in a Swiss bank
account in your name?

Of course I deny it!

What about this report?

What about these photostats
of the checks made out to you?

This isn't graft-- this
is downright thievery.

Senator, can you offer
any explanation?

I can say to you, sir,

I have at all times
acted honorably.

I don't expect belief.

In your position,
I wouldn't believe either.

Homer...

you have known me since you
first came to this town.

We've disagreed more
often than not.

We've fought down
through the years

and often with weapons--
you and I,

that were not suitable for
the arsenal of gentlemen.

But I've always
respected your honesty.

Evidently, you've
never respected mine.

Am I supposed to respect
a man who could do that?

(whispers):
I didn't do it!

I hope in time
to be able to prove

these documents are a
deftly devised snare

in which I'm caught, but
which is not of my handiwork.

You should know, Homer,
how paper can lie!

I'll withdraw my
suit, of course.

One must go into court
with clean hands.

Mine seem to be soiled.

I'm sorry, Delbert,
I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I'll give you the
benefit of the doubt
you're not giving me.

I don't believe you're
responsible personally

for this...
sordid frame-up.

MANNIX:
Senator.

Well, Mr. Mannix, looks
like I owe you an apology.

I'm deeply indebted.

Thanks to you, Mr. Mannix,
Miniver is withdrawing his suit.

Why?

You caught him

with his hand in the cookie jar.

Didn't he deny this?

Of course he did.

All right, Mannix,
let's have it.

Well, these papers have
nothing to do with the
item you published.

The libel suit...
This is larceny--
it's even more conclusive.

If it's true.

Mr. Mannix...

the libel action
is being withdrawn.

That's all
we're interested in.

May I remind you
that Mr. Boswell,

not the senator,
is your client.

I know-- but does my client
want to sidestep a lawsuit

by blackmailing
the man who's suing him?

I assume
that you weren't accusing me

of blackmail, Mr. Mannix.

I'd rather... I'd rather think

you're just being careless
with your words.

Well, what word would
you like me to use?

After all, you
are threatening
to expose Miniver

to force him
to back down.

Just a minute, Mr. Boswell.

Joe, is this evidence a plant?

Is Miniver innocent?

I don't know.

GREGG: Then you're
wasting our time.
Yeah, maybe.

But just who collected
all this information

and got it ready
for me to buy?

It destroys Miniver.

Or, uh, do you think he also
planted this to ruin himself?

I don't see that it's
our concern to worry...

Go on with that.

I don't like
coincidences.

I get close to Abernathy,
and he gets killed.

I find Cornwall, who
barely has enough brains
to be a messenger boy,

and suddenly we're given all
the answers to our problems.

Not given.

We paid $10,000.

Well, it could be
somebody figured that

if they gave us
the information on
a silver platter,

we'd smell a red herring.

$10,000 is expensive enough
to sound like an extortion plot,

but cheap enough
to insure a buyer.

That money's
a cover-up, Lou.

If Miniver was
that big a thief,

he'd pay ten times
that amount to get
rid of that evidence.

Wait a minute, what
you're saying is

that the original
information was faked,

and it was planted to
ruin me, is that right?

Cling to that notion, Homer,
and nothing can save you

from a million-dollar judgment
except bankruptcy.

Well, you've brought
me full circle.

The case isn't closed.

Not quite yet.

Well, we've tracked down
952 possible telephone numbers

based on the first four
digits you gave us,

and not one has
any remote connection

with anybody vaguely concerned
with this case.

Well, the other 48,
are they possibles?

They're impossible-- they're
private, unlisted numbers.

There's no chance
of getting them away

from the telephone company.

You mean Intertect doesn't
have the muscle to spring them?

No private company has.

Uh, the 714 code--
the $10,000?

I have the serial numbers on the
bills we gave to the messenger.

Well, I guess
we'll just have to go with that.

Yeah. And watch yourself--

I don't want you catching
a bullet in the back.

I'd like to avoid that
myself, Lou.

WICKERSHAM:
I want this
case resolved

without you or our
client being hurt.

You're very considerate, sir.

But I've lived too long
in the political jungle

to believe someone holding
a knife at my throat

withdraws it
just to be nice.

I'm not sure in
which direction the
knife is pointed,

but if the evidence against
you is ever disproved,

Homer Boswell is
in big trouble.

That you even raise the question
indicates you know I was framed!

No, I don't.

But if you have been,

the same people have set up
both you and Boswell.

What exactly do you want?

Your word
that you'll drop the lawsuit

if you're convinced
that Boswell was innocent

of any wrongful intent
in printing that column.

He, in turn, will agree
to withhold publication

of the evidence
against you.

I didn't think I had much
of a bargaining position.

Now I'm beginning
to wonder.

Well, while you're wondering,
consider what happens to you

if the evidence in Boswell's
hands is ever made public.

Now, Boswell is ruined
by the libel suit anyway,

so he has nothing to lose even
if the accusations prove false.

If they're true, you've had it.

Either way, your career
in the senate is over

the moment those
canceled checks appear
in the newspapers.

By the time you
could clear yourself,

the senate would
be a dim memory.

You've got my word.
What else?

The case involves
blackmail of a senator,
extortion and murder.

Obviously, there are
facts which you don't
want made public--

but we need help.

I want a run-down on
some phone numbers.

I'll see if I can get
a court order.

Those phone numbers
and the serial numbers

on $10,000
are our only leads.

The police could
go after the money

without publicizing
the more delicate
aspects of the case.

The numbers are being printed
in the newspapers

with a warning
they're a pay-off
in an extortion plot.

We want the extortionist
to learn that he was given
money he can't spend.

Why?

He might get mad
and try to kill

the man who double-crossed him.

Mannix.

You're a fink. Walk.

Where, to a nice,
quiet alley where you
can pull that trigger?

Oh, I could pull it right now.
I'd like to, you know?

I don't think you'll
take that chance here
on a busy sidewalk.

Mannix, I'm gonna
blow your brains out

unless you go over there
and get in that car.

Why don't you make it
seem worthwhile?

Okay. You get me $10,000
in unmarked bills.

No, no, no-- $15,000 this
time, you understand me?

And no funny business--
you see, I figured out

that business
about account 714.

That's a code
to take serial numbers.

Suppose I do get
you that money.

Till you do,
you could stay alive.

Now, walk.

Uh, Mannix, open your coat.

Ah.

The key's in the car--
you drive.

(starts engine)

Traynor, have you
heard from Mannix?

Mr. Mannix checks in
when he feels like it.

He might also fail to call
if he caught a bullet.

I'm sorry.

I try to run this office

according to the
directives sent down.

But Mr. Mannix seems
to be the odd man out.

What about the serial numbers
on the pay-off money?

Well, published
in all the papers,

announced on radio
and television,

printed copies posted
in all the banks.

Could Mannix have called
and talked to someone else
in the office?

Nope. A blue memo, urgent,

went out to all secretaries
and phone operators

advising them that I
receive all messages

and phone calls
from Mannix.

(phone rings)

Traynor here.

Uh, just a moment,
I'll see.

For you.
Mannix?

Senator Miniver.

Yes, Senator?

He did?

The judge approved.

Hold on a moment,
please, Senator,

while I get someone
to take down the list.

Put this on tape--
Senator Miniver's gonna read

the names of the owners of
the unlisted phone numbers.

Go ahead,
please, Senator.

Hello, Gloria.

What about the money?

He's gonna
call for it.

Same deal as before with
a messenger picking it up,

only this time
unmarked bills.

No, I don't like
the phone part.

He might tell them
something.

Well, you seem to have a lot
of trouble with telephones.

That number you gave me
the first night we met, YMCA.

And the, uh, first
four digits here

don't match the number
that Cornwall called.

You made a little too much
out of using her name.

I didn't think you
were talking to her.
Get rid of him.

(laughs):
I can't, you see--
he took my gun.

Either you get her back

or you don't come back.

Now, you better
believe it. Move!

Gloria, wait!
He's all right!

Really,
he's all right!

Wait!

What do you mean,
he's all right?

He means I've got
a gun on him.

Now, let's get a few
things straightened out.

Who are you
working for?
Don't tell him.

He'll shoot us.
No, he won't!
What can he prove?

The $10,000?
We haven't even seen it.

A couple of murders.

Prove it.
We had no motive.

As you say,
I haven't got much proof,

but if I turn you over
to the police,

you haven't got much assurance
they won't nail you.

What kind of a deal
do you want to make?

Don't tell me who--
just tell me what.

What was behind that item
planted in Boswell's column?

He's pretty cute--

he figures if he knows
what, he'll find out who.

You can bet on it.

While I'm trying to find out,
I won't be interested in you.

You might have
time to get away.
And the money?

You've already got $10,000
in hot serial numbers.

Now, if you get away, you
can wait until that cools off.

(sighs, chuckles)

You offer a rotten deal.

I deal in a pretty rotten
type of merchandise.

Come on, Gloria,
it's our only chance.

All right. Abernathy
planted the item

because I told him to.

I knew a couple of things
only an ex-wife would know.

Why did you want it planted?

I didn't. A gentleman
paid for the service.

You'll never find him

behind all the corporations
and dummy companies he has,

but he owns the land near
the dam Miniver wanted built.

There's a million dollars
in shale oil coming out
if no dam goes in.

(gunshot)
(screams)

Hold it, Mannix!

Throw it away.

You're an idiot, Cornwall.

For a few thousand dollars,
you jeopardized...

You killed her!

(gunshot)

(grunts)

(grunts)

(gunshot)

You okay?

Yeah.

Nice you could drop in.

Miniver got me
the phone numbers--
one was Gregg's.

I followed him, but he
lost me when he ducked
into the building.

Yes, the old
horseshoe-nail bit again.

For want of $10,000,
a million was lost.

(theme music playing)