Original subtitles

Well, this-this seems like old times, James.

Yes, sir.

Needless to say,

I'm-I'm delighted that you just happened

to be passing by.

Happened to be passing by?

Sir, don't you remember? You wrote and asked...

Professor Robey?

Is anything wrong, sir?

No, nothing.

Nothing.

Just the toll of advancing age.

I doubt it.

I also doubt that you asked me

to make this long detour to the university

so I could chat with my old professor

about his new chair of archeology.

James, you're being very complicated.

Not really.

I think that you're in trouble, sir.

What?

Why...

No, you're right.

I am in trouble.

Black, horrible trouble.

And I don't know what to do.

You just did it, sir.

You told me about it.

An excellent place to begin...

is at the beginning.

This was the beginning.

She's beautiful.

Who is she?

Her name is Lilith.

Last year, I was in Mesopotamia,

supervising the Sumerian excavations.

Do you remember?

Oh, of course. You wrote.

"The one transcendental experience

"some people are fortunate enough to encounter,

I have encountered."

Yes.

I did write that, didn't I?

Can you guess what was in my mind?

Yes.

Lilith was my great experience.

A white-haired December,

reaching wrinkled hands out for love...

for golden- haired June.

I might have married the child, if...

If what, sir?

If I hadn't stumbled on the discovery

that she was evil.

Evil beyond the capacity of her years.

Oh, come in, Robert. Come in.

Professor, Chancellor Kyle and the others are waiting.

It's time to go.

Oh, oh, yes, of course.

Oh, this is Robert Perry, my prize pupil.

Pleasure.

How do you do?

I won't ask you to sit through the boredom

of all those speeches,

but you will wait for me, won't you?

Yes, sir. I'll be right here.

Wonderful man.

I think so.

I've been worried about him, though.

Something's bothering him.

This, perhaps.

Have you ever seen her?

Professor Robey?

With someone like this?

I've heard of girls that make your temperature rise, but this?

Help!

Help! Help! Help!

Help! Help!

Help! Help! Help! Help...

He...!

I'm sure I don't have to tell you

how everyone in the department

sympathizes with you about last week's tragic event.

Thank you, sir.

Professor Robey was an irreplaceable friend.

Yes, of course.

Tell me, West.

When was the last time you took a real vacation?

Hmm?

Oh!

I don't know, sir. Why?

You've got one coming.

I checked your MO file the other day.

You've piled up an impressive amount of accrued leave.

Have you ever seen the Hanging Gardens

or the Vale of Kashmir?

Excuse me, sir,

but are you suggesting I take a vacation?

I am.

Colonel, less than a week ago,

I saw a wonderful old man burn to death,

and it wasn't a case of spontaneous combustion.

I know.

Today, somewhere alive are those responsible for the burning,

and you're suggesting that I look at travel folders?

Yes.

I get the message, sir.

West, do you have the idea that our bureau is a law unto itself?

It was created on Capitol Hill; it's answerable

to Capitol Hill.

Now I know where the pressure's coming from.

Pressure?

I quarrel with that term.

Think of it rather

as a suggestion from a higher echelon.

Now, sir, if you could tell me what echelon that is.

No.

Sir, perhaps I could tell them

how important this case is to me.

Request officially denied.

Yes, sir.

Unofficially...

Yes, sir?

The pressure-

rather than suggestion-

comes from the committee in charge of our bureau.

The Senate Surveillance

and Operations Committee.

Specifically?

Specifically, from the Chairman of that committee,

the guiding political genius

and one of the most influential men on Capitol Hill...

Senator Waterford.

Oh, my dear Mr. West.

Excuse me for invading your home like this, Senator.

No, no, my home is an extension of my office.

It's always open to you.

May I offer you something?

Yes.

Whiskey?

Brandy?

A simple answer.

An answer?

To what?

To this question:

Why was I taken off

the Robey case?

Ah, of course.

Let me say to begin with, Mr. West,

that I yield to no one

in my admiration

for the splendid record you have achieved.

Thank you, Senator.

Please, let me finish, Mr. West.

But in the final analysis,

we are all stewards of the people.

We have a moral contract with them,

and the terms of that contract

are that we confine ourselves to federal matters.

But the man was a friend of mine,

and he was brutally murdered, Senator.

I deeply sympathize with you, sir.

But I must again point out,

by no stretch of logic can that be your official concern.

I am sorry.

I see.

Must you go, Mr. West?

I have some friends over.

I'd be honored if you'd join us.

Thank you, Senator,

but I have to attend to official duties.

Oh, please forgive me.

Astarte, please come in.

I'd like you to meet Mr. West.

Sir...

may I have the honor to present...

my wife.

Delighted, Mrs. Waterford.

Is this a recent change in status, Senator?

Astarte and I met in Rome three weeks ago.

We came, we saw, and I was conquered.

I shall never stop blessing that day.

You approve, Mr. West?

Oh, yes, I do.

I believe everyone should find their great happiness in life-

kings, senators and chimney sweeps.

And even lowly professors of archeology.

Your Mr. West fascinates me, darling.

Do persuade him to stay.

I have, my dear, but he says he cannot.

Well, you've amended the record. May I?

Then you will stay! Splendid!

Come, I'd like you to meet my guests.

Ah, our host and hostess...

with a young man bearing the name of...

James West, it looks like.

Well, I see that he already knows

your name, Mr. West.

Meet Asmodeus, magician

and illusionist extraordinary.

How do you do?

Do you always wear snakes in your collar, Mr. West?

And now you can see why

he's going to be my star attraction

at the Congressional Charity Ball next week.

I promise to be unforgettable, dear lady.

Mr. West, this is my friend and physician, Dr. Tristam.

How do you do?

How do you do, Doctor?

Dr. Tristam is a source

of exceedingly hostile vibrations.

He doesn't believe in black magic.

Do you, Mr. West?

I have an open mind on the subject.

Magic?

Oh, you put on a pretty fancy little show,

Mr., uh... whatever your name is.

Asmodeus.

Late of His Satanic Majesty's Company of the Damned.

But your efforts to convince us that it's magic,

leaves me very tired, sir.

You see?

One of little faith.

What time is it, Doctor?

My watch! It's gone.

What have you done

with it, sir?

Doctor, call me a fraud, a mountebank,

a charlatan, a peddler of tired, tarnished tricks

purchased secondhand from a Hong Kong mail-order house.

But a pickpocket?!

For shame, sir.

Now, I'm going to start counting to ten, and...

Now, this may be your idea of a joke,

Mr. uh, Company of the Damned,

but as far as I'm concerned...

I've had all the hanky-panky I'm going to take.

I want my watch, and I want it right now.

But, my dear Doctor, you've never been without it.

Oh, indeed.

I suppose you'll be telling me next that I...

uh...

Ooh!

Pack of confounded nonsense. Come along, Clay.

It's time for me to be prodded, thumped and listened to.

My annual physical checkup.

Please excuse me.

Of course, dear.

Asmodeus, you were magnificent.

I do my humble best, dear lady.

Ah, but I could do so much more,

if people really and truly believed in evil.

And now I must ask your leave to go.

Baal and Beelzebub await me

along with others at Mephisto's.

Well?

Well, what?

Well, aren't you going to suggest

we take a turn in the garden?

How very sure you are of yourself, Mr. West.

Only in things that matter.

Such as?

I'm sure that a snapping turtle never lets go until it thunders.

And I'm sure that if you step on a spider, it rains.

And I'm very, very sure

that the murderers of Professor Robey

will dance the minuet

from the highest gallows.

Mr. West, how would you like to take a turn in the garden?

How did you do it, Ms. Waterford?

Caresses, tears, hypnotism?

What you're really asking is...

how did I persuade my husband

to remove you from the Robey case.

How nice it is that we understand each other.

What would you do if I told you?

Expose me to my husband?

Of course not.

You see, your husband is suffering

from a very rare disease.

Really?

What are the symptoms?

Well, the victim invariably

falls head over heels in love with you.

Oh.

What an adorable disease.

That's a matter of opinion.

For the victim, it's frequently fatal.

That's why I haven't told your husband

the unpleasant facts of life yet.

Because you're afraid if you did,

it might prove...

fatal to your precious career?

That's part of it.

It is nice that we...

understand each other so well.

Mm-hmm.

So you're declaring war on me?

And I don't take any prisoners.

What a pity.

What are your views about...

fraternizing with the enemy?

It could be dangerous.

But exciting.

Well, if it isn't Asmodeus.

What happened? Did you lose your way?

You make me realize

how much I detest excessively muscular young men.

Fair enough.

And I don't care for bushwhackers,

even if they are all gussied up in a waiter's suit.

Jim, you out there?

Oh, they told me

I'd find you out here in the garden.

I beg your pardon.

Am I interrupting something?

Not at all.

A few minutes more,

and I may have worn out my welcome.

May I present my friend Mr. Gordon?

The Senator's lady, Mrs. Waterford.

How do you do?

And the ever delightful Asmodeus,

magician, illusionist extraordinary.

Good night, dear lady.

Excuse us.

Boy, I'll bet it was quite a shock to find

Mrs. Waterford was Professor Robey's

little playmate Lilith, huh?

Same spider with a different name.

Same web with a different fly.

What I wouldn't give to know what they're up to.

Artemus, start with the files.

See what you can dig up on Mrs. Waterford

and her tricky pal Asmodeus.

Right. I'll meet you at the car.

Cab, sir?

Come on.

Let's go.

Extensive multiple head injuries.

Lacerations, possible fracture.

What did you say the patient's name was?

West, Nurse. Mr. James West.

Well?

He's still unconscious, sir.

He's been unconscious for six hours now, but...

Was it you who always said

that West was indestructible?

Yes, sir.

All it took was a streetcar

running into his cab to...

get rid of that theory.

Return engagement, Mr. West?

Missed me.

Care to try again?

Very neat.

I'll bet you're a big hit

on the junior circuit with that one.

But not with you.

But not with me.

Sorry.

Really, I should write a strongly worded letter

to that Hong Kong mail order house.

They guaranteed me I'd be a smash with you.

Oh, well.

Guess I'll have to rummage around

and see what else I can come up with.

Don't go away, Mr. West.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I hope you forgive the intrusion, Senator. I...

Colonel Fairchild,

I've been trying to get in touch with you, sir...

We've just received this message.

"Imperative that you meet me

"as soon as possible,

"Senator Waterford residence.

Signed, James West."

Oh, you got one, too?

So did the Senator and Dr. Tristam.

I don't think you've met.

No. Dr. Tristam, Mr. Gordon.

How do you do? Mr. Gordon.

In that case, the messages can't possibly be genuine.

Jim West is still in the hospital.

You mean, he isn't?

West disappeared from the hospital an hour ago.

Jim!

Thank you.

Is that you, Artemus?

Yeah.

Fancy meeting you here, wherever this is.

Good heavens, man, where have you been?

All sorts of quaint places.

Well, if it isn't the great Asmodeus.

It was a highly entertaining show you put on tonight.

Tonight?

What is he talking about?

And you, Mrs. Waterford.

The senator will be delighted to know

with what grace and charm you presided

at Witches' Sabbath.

No, Clay, no.

Can't you see he's ill?

And oddly enough...

he seems to be drugged.

That's it, Jim, come on.

We're going to put you to bed.

I don't want to go to bed.

It's too early to go to bed.

Listen to me, West.

Obviously, you don't remember,

but for past 12 hours, you've been in the hospital.

Unconscious.

Now you're the one that's confused.

I've been having a lot of fun,

but I haven't been...

Now, listen, Jim.

Listen to me.

For the past 12 hours,

I've been sitting at your bedside

praying that you'd pull through.

You have been hurt.

Do you understand?

Nah, it can't be.

Would I kid you about something like that, buddy?

Would I?

Come on, Jim.

Try not to be bitter.

Furloughs can be beautiful.

Then help yourself to mine.

Oh, it was beautiful the way they handled me.

The cab with the built-in blackout.

Who'd believe it?

I would.

Why?

Because I know you to be loyal, thrifty,

trustworthy, truthful, reverent, clean, brave.

And the great show Asmodeus put on for me

designed to make me look like the village idiot.

The capper, the little maneuver

that had me hanging on the ropes.

It was the way they managed to sneak

another man into the hospital

and give him your name.

You really believe he was a phony? A ringer?

Yeah.

Once I had a chance to think it all over, yeah.

As a matter of fact,

you better cancel that furlough, buddy.

I've been doing some research on this thing

and I've come up with a theory about the whole thing.

I call it "Operations Brain Drain."

Now, it's true that Professor Robey met with foul play,

but so, in the recent past, have a great many other

equally distinguished scientists.

For example, Austin DeJohn,

one of our greatest theoretical physicists.

Drowned off the coast of Norfolk.

Go on.

Asmodeus the Great happened to be playing in a theater

in Norfolk at the time.

Peter Kempley,

leading authority on organic chemistry,

met with a traffic accident in Great Neck.

Asmodeus.

By an amusing coincidence,

happened to be playing nearby at the time.

Here, pick a dossier.

Any dossier.

You'll find that they concern some leading authority

in one of the physical, medical or biological sciences,

each one of whom met with a fatal accident.

And Asmodeus just happened to be

in the vicinity in each case.

Asmodeus, or a little slip

of a delicate blond named Astarte.

Or Lilith.

What are you doing sitting here, Artemus?

It's not polite to keep

Colonel Fairchild waiting.

I'm ready. I'm ready.

I don't know how I ever let you two

talk me into this fantastic scheme.

Sir, if you'll forgive me,

what's really fantastic is your notion

that anyone would go to all the trouble

of systematically eliminating

one distinguished scientist after another

without profiting from it in some way.

Merely depriving our country of its great geniuses

isn't enough, we believe.

So, according to you,

all these top-level scientists are not dead.

They're genius is being harvested by persons unknown.

That's right, sir.

When we open their graves, we shall find what?

I don't know.

Perhaps nothing.

Gentlemen, although I was skeptical

when you first brought this matter up,

I must admit I found certain merit in your arguments

that Kempley, DeJohn and the others

were all buried in the same cemetery.

But I knew Dr. Kempley very well.

The remains in this coffin are definitely his.

Well, gentlemen, shall we open the other graves?

No, sir.

I'm delighted to hear you say that.

And, West, I trust you won't delay

your furlough any longer.

No, sir.

Are you humming?

Me? Never.

I just whistle in graveyards.

When was the last time

you attended a Witches' Sabbath?

Well, any of you gentlemen

care to make a statement for the press?

This is just the way I saw them, only Astarte was here.

And Doris Dummy here?

Yeah.

In the land of mannequins, who does the chanting?

Hey, that's pretty neat, huh?

No Witches' Sabbath should be without one.

Quite correct.

Drop the guns and raise your hands, gentlemen.

Oh, the great Asmodeus!

Oh, when's the next show?

But, my dear skeptical friends, you are the next show.

The curtain is about to rise.

How do you like my little retreat?

We find it very useful

for impressing lovers of the occult.

You'd be surprised how many people

are reaching for the beyond.

Reaching for something more gaudy.

Well, that's pretty corny, pal.

Yeah, I like the Indian rope trick.

Do you know how to do that?

Oh, that's very neat.

Who has a cold?

You are insolent, aren't you?

We'll see how insolent you are after...

After what?

I prefer to have it be a surprise.

Is this your whole bag of tricks?

The dummies...

a burning fire altar, mumbo jumbo?

Oh, no.

These are little innocent trappings.

There's more, as you will find out.

A mourning candle.

Appropriate, don't you think?

You ordered that for us?

Asmodeus, you shouldn't have.

Oh, of course.

I realize we need two.

Yeah, but you couldn't fit the other one

into your sleeve, could you?

Enough.

You're a poor audience.

Oh, no, we're a good audience.

You're a poor entertainer.

We'll see how poor.

We'll see when...

Oh, no.

You won't force me to tell you.

He will do that.

"He"?

He! He!

And all the time I thought Asmodeus was Mr. Big.

No, Asmodeus is too fond of applause.

All right, gentlemen.

Move over to that wall, please.

Gentlemen, place your hands

in the manacles, please.

And lock them tightly around your wrists.

I want to hear them click.

Jim, behind you!

Glad to have been of so much help.

Dear me, I shall miss Asmodeus.

Don't move, gentlemen, if you value your lives.

Well, just don't stand there, Artemus.

What do you say?

Good evening, Master.

Well, for law enforcement officers,

you gentlemen have a certain native,

rather refreshing intelligence.

Won't you join me?

But be very, very careful.

Gentlemen, my laboratory.

A modest little retreat where I come to putter.

And develop charming little devices,

like the chemical that causes people to burst into flames.

Oh, one of my minor efforts.

Actually, it's a refinement of the ancient Greek fire.

Applied to clothing,

the chemical can be set to go off at a precise moment.

Yes.

I already know the amusing way

that it worked on Professor Robey.

Don't be a fool, Mr. Gordon.

Stop, I say.

Your impetuous friend is unconscious, not dead.

That will come later, of course.

For you, also.

Before you, um, nullify me,

what is it exactly that you're up to?

Well, can't you guess?

I know you have an unusual interest in our scientists,

the exceptional ones.

Go on.

I even toyed with the theory

that you're in the business of faking their deaths,

that they're alive, forced to work for you.

What if I were to tell you you're absolutely correct?

I saw Kempley's remains in his grave.

Just the dross, Mr. West, the unimportant husk.

Allow me.

Uh, may I present, um... uh...

Oh, yes, yes.

Professor Kempley,

DeJohn, Dr. Lassiter,

Professors Colahan, Byron,

Cook, Fogelson, Carson,

and Lind.

The essence of these

"exceptional ones," as you put it,

their brains.

I have the collective genius

of the greatest scientists of the day at my command.

And there'll be more, many more.

Interesting.

But brains without bodies?

Yes.

Living on the electrically charged aqueous environment

into which I have placed them.

Living, hearing, feeling-

and most importantly- thinking.

Cerebrating at my command.

What do you say to that?

Not being a fool, I don't believe you, of course.

You don't?

Professor Colahan,

I want those nuclear equations I asked you to formulate now.

They must be prodded first before I get what I want.

You mean you shock them?

That's how you control them.

Yes.

And this is my achievement.

My accumulator.

Like a battery drinking in

the enormous electric output

of all those brains.

Storing it, keeping it on tap

until such time as I may need it,

as I want to put it to work.

And that's where Astarte comes in,

picking up scientists from time to time.

Oh, yes, she's been most useful.

But not always completely successful, of course.

Your Professor Robey-

oh, he was one who became suspicious.

Why did Astarte marry Senator Waterford?

He's not a scientist.

Ah, no, but he's a very social animal.

Oh, we made some splendid contacts through him.

Oh, yes, he had his uses.

Had?

Astarte has tired of him.

She gets restless, you know?

So at 12:00 tonight,

the senator will meet with an unfortunate accident.

More fire?

Oh, Astarte's idea.

She coaxed the senator into wearing a cape

to the Waterford costume party they're having

and... oh, dear.

In a half hour, it'll be 12:00.

You're not getting any heroic ideas, I trust.

No, no heroics.

I was just thinking how much that they must hate you.

They?

Well, they're alive.

They think.

They must know what you've done to them,

how you plan to use them.

How could they not hate you?

You're a hopeless sentimentalist.

What if they were to make one collective effort,

one big surge of power?

How much damage do you think they could do?

Why the idea is too childish to...

Listen.

You're an idiot.

What you hear are the normal fluctuations

of current absorption.

Is that it, or is it possible

they realize for the first time

they can strike back at the one they hate

with all their towering genius?

Desist!

Then it is possible, isn't it?

No, it's not.

Then there'd be no harm if someone was to say-

"Strike back, but you must do it together,

one united effort."

I said desist!

One united, collective effort

with all your power and be free.

I'll kill you right now!

Artemus, I have to get to Senator Waterford's fast.

You'll be all right here.

Senator Waterford?

Will I do?

Such a gay, lovely night, Mr. West.

Don't you think we might declare a truce?

That's an interesting idea, Mrs. Waterford.

To begin, try saying Astarte, James.

Astarte.

Oh, you did that very well.

Just a knack, I suppose.

Do you remember the last time we were so close?

Yes.

But don't worry.

Asmodeus isn't around this time.

I know.

He's dead.

And I almost forgot-

so is Dr. Tristam.

You're lying.

Would I lie about such a delightful thing as that?

Please, James, listen to me.

Forget it, little girl.

You are all washed up.

Please.

Leave me alone!

Clay...

Oh, Clay.

West, you'll die for this.

I don't suppose I could convince...

No, I didn't think I could.

Before you fire, get out of that cape.

What?

There isn't time to explain,

but in a few seconds,

that cape will burst into flame,

thanks to your loving wife.

Liar!

Oh, he's mad.

Then indulge a madman.

Get out of that cape fast.

Do you feel the heat from the cape, Astarte?

Just like the one you sent Professor Robey.

Let me out of this thing before it's too late.

Shoot him now, Clay.

Shoot him now.

I promised you a dance, Astarte.

Dance?

What?

The minuet.

From the highest gallows we can find, remember?

Merely a demonstration

to prove that the hand is quicker than the eye.

We will catch the...

We will, no.

We will cat...

That's fine.

Now the... card...

There is the inveterate card player

whom you have met.

What are you doing?

Practicing your

old black magic, Artemus?

Ah, merely something to while away

those long, cold, wintry evenings, James.

You...

Oh, listen. Watch this.

I just want to show you something.

Artemus, I happen to have an engagement.

No, no, no, no.

I guarantee you will find this richly rewarding.

Observe. Empty, correct?

Please watch carefully.

We will close the cabinet,

say a few brief magic words over it,

and presto.

Abracadabra, alakazam,

ipso facto, the king of Siam.

Here we go.

I can't understand it.

According to the manual, it's supposed to be a rabbit.