Original subtitles

From Media Home Entertainment, distributed by CBS Box Video.

Thank you.

When was the last time you saw your husband, Mrs. McLaughlin? It was Tuesday

morning. He had to fly to San Francisco for business.

He usually calls me every night when he's out of town, and then when he

didn't show up last night... I'm sorry, what's his full name again?

Daryl Bryant McLaughlin.

That's Daryl with a Y and two L's. Okay, and could you describe him?

He's 39 years old. He's six feet tall, about 170 pounds. He's

got brown hair and blue eyes.

Did your husband do or say anything out of the ordinary the morning he left?

No.

No, nothing.

Honey, maybe you'd like to fool around. I think we've got about five minutes.

What do you think could have happened to him?

I'm sure nothing's happened.

We'll check with the San Francisco authorities, but I'll bet he shows up by

the end of the day. And that's what happens 95% of the time.

How about a kiss?

Hello? Mrs. McLaughlin?

Lieutenant Babbitt. I think we found something.

Thank God. What is it? Well, it's a car.

We found it downtown.

Well, East L.A., actually.

Does your husband know anyone in that area?

Not that I'm aware of. Can you think of any reason why he might have gone there?

No, not.

He must have been kidnapped or something.

Tell me, have you and your husband been having any financial difficulties

lately? No.

They're all brought home over $2,500 a week, and I've been selling my work.

Did he have a drinking problem or use any addictive narcotic?

Any sort of sexual problems? No, what is this?

Mrs. McLaughlin, why do you think your husband left you last week? I don't

think he left me. I think he might have been kidnapped.

But you haven't been contacted by the kidnappers, have you?

Wait a minute. I have been getting these phone calls lately.

Hello?

Hello?

Who is this?

Hello?

Well, of course we'll check into it, but I'd be willing to bet it's just a crank

caller. And that's what it is 95% of the time.

I traced this card on the South El Monte, right?

$300 the bank wants me to repo it.

So what'd you do about it?

What could I do?

I paid the bank the $300, took the pink slip, and gave my wife my Hyundai.

Goddamn Camaro for 300 bucks.

You listening to me?

Hello? I'm sorry, Harry.

What's with you lately?

Uh, nothing. I'm fine.

Got a client outside. That lady with the missing husband?

Have you seen my glasses anywhere?

You've got a client outside.

Fine. Have her wait, will you?

You can come on in now.

David Shepard? Yes.

The private investigator?

That's right. Uh, Miss, uh, McLaughlin.

Have a seat, please.

I can't find anything today.

I see.

Something wrong?

No, no. I guess I just expected someone more like... I'll

be with you in a minute. Just let me find my glass.

Oh.

Yes?

Yes.

Uh, no.

Please.

How long have you been in this line of work?

Well, I've been looking for missing persons for about six years.

Not the same ones, I hope.

Joke.

So,

Mrs. McCaughlin, did you bring a recent photograph of your husband?

Well, I wasn't sure which one you'd want, so...

Who's this with

him? His mother?

Guess Daryl didn't take after her.

You never met her?

No. Both his parents died when he was quite young. In fact, that's the only

photograph I've seen of him as a child.

Where was he employed?

Morgan Danielson. It's an advertising agency.

Daryl's an account executive.

His job, haven't you been traveling a lot?

Maybe once or twice a month. He had clients in San Francisco, Seattle.

I know what you're thinking, Mr. Shepard, and it's not true.

What am I thinking, ma'am? What everybody's been thinking. Daryl did not

fool around with other women. As a matter of fact, he used to call me every

night when he was out of town.

Ma'am, the standard rate of an investigator employed by this agency is

$40 an hour plus mileage. Are you aware of that?

Yes. Will you take the job?

You see, ma'am, I really don't want to waste your money.

I don't want to waste my time. If your husband disappeared of his own volition,

then he doesn't want to be found, even assuming I could find him.

Well, I wouldn't want to waste any of your valuable time.

That's not what I meant.

No, really.

It's one minute at $40 an hour.

Can you break a dollar?

You see, he did do something unusual before he disappeared, didn't he?

What do you mean?

See, that's the second time you stammered when I asked you that

question.

Well, it's nothing really.

He'd been having nightmares.

About what?

I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. I don't know anything about anything

anymore. All I know is that my husband is gone.

Let me see what I can do.

Mr. Shepard

He was such a nice guy to work for. Not like Mr. Slotkin and personnel.

What a creep.

Are you really a private detective?

Like Bruce Willis?

Yeah. Not like him.

Can I ask you a personal question?

Did he ever make a play for you?

Or any of the other female employees? Mr. McLaughlin? No way. Are you kidding?

And Mr. Slotkin, that's another story.

Twice. Did he ever take you on a business trip? What business trip?

Didn't he go on business trips?

Life is like... Seattle, San Francisco?

Why would he go there? All our clients are in L.A. and Orange County.

Thanks.

Uh, can I go in there a minute?

Oh, you better not.

I'll get in trouble.

Hey, Mona, where are the idiots?

Where's the rest of your guys?

Listen, I need my stuff moved up from 14 ASAP.

And be super careful with the box on the desk. It's got pre-Columbian pieces in

it. But, uh, box all McLaughlin's crap first and want it out of there.

Yes, sir.

The raid, Murray.

Townspeople got wind of your experiments and they're storming the castle.

Go away, Hank.

We're performing a post-mortem here.

Two kids on the body in a vacant lot downtown.

He'd have been there a couple of weeks.

It was close. He looks like maybe a transient.

No ID on him. Fingerprints?

We already sent him to Sacramento. Nothing.

Oh!

Whoa!

You treat people who are still living, Murray? I think I'm gonna get sick.

Over my dead body.

Yeah, that's possible.

What in the... The name of God happened to this man.

Got an hour?

Massive blunt force trauma. We've counted 47 contusions and lacerations so

far.

Compound fractures of the left patella, both femurs, and right maxima humerus.

He only came in for a routine appendectomy, right?

What about the weapon?

It was wooden.

Take a look.

Hey. What are you doing, man? You just touched me with this.

It touched him, too. And he probably took it better than you did.

All right, fine, fine, fine, Murray.

Just let me look him over and we'll get out of your way, all right?

Teal, look him over.

What?

Get a description.

Well,

he's a male, I guess.

Caucasian.

Eyes. One.

What color do you?

Red.

Early mid-thirties. Brown hair. Blue eyes.

Six foot one. One hundred and seventy pounds.

Thank you, Murray.

Let's go. Yes.

No, Linda, I'm fine. Really.

Maynard, shut up.

I'm sorry. I'm going to have to call you back.

Maynard, come here.

No, I haven't heard anything yet.

No, I promise. If I hear anything, I will call you, all right?

I have to go now.

My God, you're fast.

Yes, ma'am.

Do me a favor. Call me Valerie.

No one ever called me ma'am until Daryl disappeared.

That only made me respectable.

Next thing you know, they'll be naming ships after me.

This isn't a good time.

I didn't know you had kids.

No, sometimes I babysit for the neighbors.

You must really like kids. Yeah, I do.

Daryl didn't want any?

Guys. Hold on.

Hello.

This is Mr.

Shepard. And he's a private detective.

Kind of like Humphrey Bogart.

Or Johnny Depp.

Anyway, I need to talk to him for a minute, okay?

You do these?

Mm-hmm.

They're good.

Never knew a real artist before.

And what do you use these for?

Trimming hedges.

Ah.

Mr. Shepard?

Yeah, about your husband's business trips.

What about them?

There weren't any.

The only trip was a convention junket to New York. That was two years ago.

I don't believe you.

You know anybody named Anita?

No.

There's more.

Your husband didn't clear $2,550 per week.

He didn't? No.

He cleared $3,125 per week. That's a difference of $575 left unaccounted for

that doesn't show up in your joint account.

Notice anything when you filed your tax return?

I didn't find the stupid thing.

Daryl always handled our finances.

Whenever I'd ask him anything, he'd just do whatever he wanted to anyway.

Yes, ma'am.

I had my agency tap the computer files of all the major banks in California. No

Daryl Bryant McLaughlin shows up on any new account in the state.

He didn't apply for a change of address from the Department of Motor Vehicles.

Didn't purchase an airline ticket.

Didn't apply for a passport.

Didn't apply for a credit card.

What all this means, ma'am, is your husband probably did change his name.

And what that means...

is that he doesn't want you to find him.

I'm sorry.

It's all right.

Goodbye, Mr. Shepard.

My office will send you a bill, ma'am.

Goodbye.

Hello?

How are you, kid?

You barked in my spot again, Eric.

What are you doing here, anyway?

Night surveillance.

Husband of the secretary.

Rough. What rough?

An extra five bucks an hour for night work. Plus they get to look at his

secretary naked instead of my wife.

Hmm.

Nice way.

You finally got yourself a girlfriend, huh?

Mm-mm. Well, she was a client.

Husband walked out on her a couple weeks ago.

Turns out he was taking dummy business trips the past five years.

Salt in the way.

$500 a week, she knew nothing about.

He was keeping a bimbo. Yeah, yeah.

That's where I got it figured.

Someone named Anita.

You know, one of those things, decide you like the girl but didn't do your

wife. Walk out the front door, never come back.

What do you think about that?

I'll buy it.

Why anybody walk out on a beautiful piece of ass like that is beyond me.

I'll bet you it was banging somebody, too.

Harry, why do you got to talk like that?

Like what?

Oh, I guess you got a thing for her, huh?

I never said that.

Very clever, kid.

So you're going to kind of string her along for a few days more, huh?

Why would I do that?

Why would you do that?

Keep an eye on her, that's why.

Then if you get lucky, you wind up in a sack with her.

Don't be afraid, Mrs. McCall. It's just me.

I'm not afraid. I'm the one with the bat.

Yes, ma'am.

Sorry to barge in on you like this. I rang the doorbell. What do you want, Mr.

Shepherd?

I want to see you.

And talk to you about your husband, I mean.

What about him?

Well, ma'am, I've been giving this case a lot of thought, and I'm not so sure. I

wasn't a little hasty yesterday.

You see...

I don't know why your husband would walk out of his life with some bimbo.

I mean, he had everything.

Good looks, good job, good future, beautiful house, pretty piece of life.

A piece of wife?

Yes, ma'am, but the thing that really bothers me, the thing I don't

understand, how could he leave you?

So what do you want?

I thought I'd be your husband.

Do everything until you did.

Everything?

Well, almost everything.

The morning he left, that is.

Okay. I want you to try to remember everything you said or did that morning.

Every word.

No matter how insignificant.

Okay.

Would you like a cup of coffee?

No, thanks. Not until I finish this.

No, that's what I said to Daryl. Would you like a cup of coffee?

Oh, um, what do you say?

Yes, thanks.

Yes, thanks.

Oh,

you forgot the sweet and low. Daryl put sweet and low in his coffee.

Okay. Then what?

He was reading the paper.

You have a paper?

I probably have the paper. I saved it in the recycle.

Here it is.

Does your husband draw these?

Oh, yeah. He doodles all the time.

It's a nervous habit.

Saw the same thing on a pad in his office.

Well, he'll draw on anything put in front of him.

Once I hung a print by the phone in the den, he even drew on that.

Thank God it was a Jackson Pollock.

Okay. Then what?

Then I said something.

What?

You know, just something personal.

Ma'am, you need to tell me. It may be important.

I'd really rather not.

Mrs. McCoughlin, think of me as your doctor.

Your lawyer?

Okay, I'm just doing my job.

Fine. I said, let's have sex. Do you think five minutes is enough time?

What did he say then?

Nothing, as usual.

Then he took his dishes into the kitchen and headed for the front door.

He picked up his briefcase over there.

And then... Yeah, he dropped his umbrella and I picked it up.

Umbrella? Why would he take his umbrella?

It was supposed to rain that day.

Right, I remember that.

Then what?

Then he said goodbye.

Yes. Then I said goodbye.

Yes.

And then we kissed.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

What are we supposed to do now?

Uh, nothing. We just keep looking for him.

Okay, I'm going to take a quick shower and I'll be right with you.

Male cock.

Fixed one.

174. No distinguishing feature.

Hey, no features.

This is the John Doe from hell, Hank.

I just had one of those feelings, you know, like you've done something before.

My first homicide was a John Doe.

Just about the same description.

And on Fifth Street.

Beating to death with a wooden club.

Are you sitting on my coat?

Oh.

Sorry.

So, uh, how long ago was this?

Years ago.

I first got married.

Andy.

I was young and ambitious.

Personally interviewed every tenant in every apartment on the scene of the

crime.

Sat in a car on a Code 5 for 12 straight nights.

So, uh, what happened?

I got divorced.

To the perp, I mean.

How'd you finally catch him?

Never did.

This is 100% wool, man.

I don't see anything.

No?

I had to park his car here for a reason.

Do you have a plan B?

Hmm?

Oh, sure.

I have lots of other strategies.

Like what?

Well... May I see that?

This?

You've been working on something.

Uh-huh.

No, really, I have.

What's that design look like to you?

What do you mean? Well, it's something he always drew. I thought maybe it might

have a significance.

Kind of like a Rorschach test?

Maybe.

Maybe it's a map, you know, longitude, latitude.

Checkerboard. Quilt?

You're not really trying to find my husband, are you, Mr. Shepard?

I don't know what you mean, ma'am.

I mean, unless a really cute mugger comes along.

I'm really no closer to finding a husband than when I first hired you.

Mrs. McAuliffe, I would not lead you on a wild goose chase.

You're chasing something, Mr. Shepard. I just have a feeling it isn't goose.

You see, usually what a guy does when he wants to change his name, he goes to the

library, looks through old newspaper obituaries for the year he was born,

tries to find a child that died in infancy.

Once he finds that, he goes down to the Hall of Records, gets himself a copy of

the birth certificate, and from there, hell, he can get a passport, driver's

license, whatever.

Here we go.

January, 1951.

You take the herald, I'll take the time.

Go through here and make a list of all the male infants that died that year.

Then we start checking them out.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Nothing?

What about dental records?

Maybe we could ID them that way.

Take another look at that corpse.

There'll be some teeth left before you can check dental records.

Death is the perfect novocaine.

Let me use your thing.

Thank you.

What about the missing person files?

Well, my guess is it's just one drunk bashing another drunk for his bottle of

Crabari. It has been happening a lot lately.

Here's a possibility.

Some guy on the Hollywood Hill two weeks ago disappeared.

Brown hair, blue eyes, 6'1", 170.

I'll take it.

Hollywood Hill is a long way from Skid Row now, especially in that pick-and

-save outfit he was wearing.

Maybe it's chic.

Who knows?

Maybe he was down there trying to score drugs.

Who filed the report?

His wife, Valerie McCall.

what's left of dead Fred.

Hey.

And be very sensitive, all right?

My Lord, we've been doing this forever.

I think I earned my master's about half an hour ago.

Now you know why I don't carry a gun.

Now I know why you wear glasses.

Boy, I'm starving. Do you think we have a vending machine around here?

A private detective's most important tool of the trade.

Beef jerky.

Pits in your pocket, doesn't make any noise when you chew it, and lasts

forever.

And it's deadlier than a gun.

Thanks.

So, um, what makes someone become a detective?

Certainly not the excitement.

I don't know.

Ex-cops, law school graduates who can't pass the bar, I don't know. What about

you? Me?

I was, um, 16 when I found out I'd been adopted.

My parents, uh, my birth parents were killed in an auto crash, and I was told

that somewhere out there I had a brother who'd been raised by another family.

So...

Decided to try to track him down.

That's how I first got involved in private investigative work.

Really? Uh-huh.

Interesting.

I don't believe this.

What?

McLaughlin Darryl B., six months.

Died July 17, 1951 of cystic fibrosis.

It's got to be some kind of coincidence. What?

To Darryl B. McLaughlin?

Daryl with a Y and two L's, both born in Los Angeles, 1951? Not a chance.

I don't understand. Are you trying to tell me my husband died when he was six

months old? No.

No. I'm trying to tell you your husband is not Daryl Bryant McLaughlin.

See, what if your husband did go to the library?

What if he changed his name like I described, only he didn't do it days

ago, he did it years ago. And the new name he chose was Daryl Bryant

McLaughlin.

So who did he used to be?

I don't know.

He obviously tried to bury his entire past.

That's why there aren't any pictures of him as a child.

Except for this one.

But why would he change his identity? What was he running away from? I don't

know. All I know is I was right about it.

When? When I said I was wrong, I was right.

See, he never ran off with another woman. It was something else.

This is great.

I mean, we're really starting to get somewhere now.

As if he'd still want me on the case.

Well, it's just getting interesting, Mr. Shepard.

Shit. Harry.

Harry.

Harry, are you alright?

I think my arm broke and I made some rips.

Jesus, what happened?

I'm not sure.

I've got my car, so I'm not coming back. Up behind me was a club or something.

Who was it? Oh, who knows? A satisfied client.

You didn't see who it was? No, and that's the funny part.

As soon as I managed to roll over, the guy took off.

Boy, you sure get pissed off when someone's parking your spot, don't you,

kid?

I already checked, Hank. There's no police record on a Daryl Bryant

McCaffrey. None. None.

What about the wife?

I called her all day yesterday. All I got was the machine.

Now either she's not home or she's not answering.

Something's definitely hinky here.

How so?

How so? Her husband has been brutally murdered.

Yeah, if that's her husband. Now she disappeared.

Same thing could have happened to her. If she's disappeared, she could be at

work. Or out shopping.

She just reported her husband missing, Teal. She'd be sitting by the phone.

If you disappeared, what would Tricia do?

Tricia? She'd try and buy a new sofa before I showed up.

Teal, just keep calling her, will you, please?

Okay.

But I'm telling you, she's in a mall somewhere.

You lose perspective when it comes to women, Hank.

They're just like us, only they smell better.

Not if they've been lying in a ditch for two weeks, they don't.

How are you feeling?

Why do people give you a puzzle book when you're in a hospital?

I'm sick.

I don't want to figure shit out.

Maybe they thought you'd like it because you're a detective.

So what?

A construction worker breaks his leg, I'm going to bring him a brick.

When do you get out of here?

Oh, they're supposed to pick me up about 9.30.

How are you doing with the legs?

You nailed her yet?

Not yet.

This isn't easy for me, Harry.

Well, you better get on the stick, kid, before her husband figures out what's

wrong with the new bimbo and comes back. I don't think there ever was a bimbo. I

just said there was a woman.

She can cheat or something.

Anita, I thought there was a...

9.30.

What? Why would you write 9.30 on a death calendar when you already got a

line with 9.30 printed on it?

Sorry, Harry. I gotta go.

Where? See Anita?

God, I hate puzzles.

Bear with me.

Come on.

Let's go. Let's go.

See? Anita Street. I thought it was the name of a woman. What a dummy!

I still don't understand why we're here.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Here.

9.30, Anita.

He came into this store the day he disappeared.

Oh, I love you.

May I help you?

Oh, sorry.

We just got married a couple weeks ago. Oh, that's lovely.

Congratulations. Thank you.

Thank you.

You know, someone sent us some flowers from your shop here, and they forgot to

sign their names, a little white card, and we wanted to send them a thank you

note, but don't know where to send it. Yes, that's right.

So we were wondering if maybe you had a file. Oh, it was two weeks ago?

Right, February 20th.

I don't know what they were.

Let's see.

Emily Updegraff?

Emily, no.

I remember this guy.

He bought a spray of carnations, like those.

Oh, I love carnations. Don't you, Eric?

Oh, yeah, I do.

Oh, why don't you buy them for me, sweetheart? It'll be just like our

wedding day. Settle down, dear.

We'll see.

Here it is.

Peter Kilgore.

Peter? Of course. Sounds like Peter.

Thank you very much. You're welcome.

Now, how about those carnations?

Didn't overplay my part, did I? Nope.

Not at all.

Except we can find Peter Kilgore.

Great.

He was here.

Made a call from right here.

Apparently, one of your drivers picked up a fare on Anita Street last February

20th. Yeah? What do you want me to do about it? Well, we'd really like it if

you took a look at the trip sheet and told us where to take him. Hey, come on.

You know I can't give you that kind of information.

It's real important to us.

Look, I'm sorry.

My name's Norm.

This is my wife, Daisy.

We've only been married for two weeks. Yeah, and this is the fare your driver

picked up.

Cute kids. So what?

So he's our son.

So he disappeared, so we don't know where to find him, so you're our only

hope. Oh, wait, wait. She just said that you've only been married two weeks. How

come you have a kid already?

Well, actually, he's from my first marriage, and, you see, we think it may

have been my ex-husband who took him. Did you bring the medicine, honey?

Timmy's a diabetic.

I just hope we find him in time, Jim. Yeah, we'll find him. Don't worry, we'll

find him.

All right, all right.

Jim Now

if

any man can show just cause why this woman and this man should not be joined

together. Let him speak now or forever hold his peace. May I help you?

Excuse me. I'm Reverend Leland.

Yes, sir. I'm a private investigator.

Really?

Like Father Dowling?

Sir, we're looking for a man who was dropped off at this address about two

weeks ago by a taxi cab.

I'm sorry.

I don't recognize him. His name is Daryl McLaughlin?

Or he could have been using another name. Peter Kilgore.

Kilgore? Yes, sir. Kilgore. Do you know him?

Well... Yes.

Do you know where he is?

He's right outside.

Wait a minute. Don't tell me he's... Dead? No, he's alive.

Who else would have put flowers at his parents' grave two weeks ago?

Peter Kilgore Jr.? Alias Daryl Bryant McCoughlin.

Thank you.

I'm going home. Where is she, Teal?

Miss McAuliffe?

No, no, Amelia Earhart. I'm working on an old case now.

There's still no answer.

The shopping malls are all closed now, in case you haven't noticed.

Let's track her down, sport.

Send somebody out to her house if you have to.

I had a wonderful time.

Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, Daryl?

David.

David, Daryl. You even look a little like him.

Besides, we've already been married, had a diabetic child, and looked at cemetery

plots together.

I guess I forgot to stop pretending you were my husband.

A million little lights.

Do you suppose something terrible is happening out there behind one of them

right now?

Do you suppose someone out there is looking at this one and thinking the

same thing?

Do you believe in reincarnation?

Maybe. Why?

Sometimes I remember things I couldn't possibly have done.

It's like they belong in somebody else's life.

If you turn the light out, it disappears.

What are we supposed to do now?

Well, from here, it's pretty routine.

Thank you.

Now that we know that his true name is Peter Kilgore, I'm not through.

Credit check, DMV, bank accounts, phone companies, things like that.

If he's living out there under that name, he'll show up sooner or later.

I see.

And how long will all of this take?

Oh, not very long.

Maybe a couple days or so.

Oh.

Of course.

Sometimes it can take longer.

Sometimes weeks.

Hello? Who is this?

Hello?

Hello?

You're making me nuts.

I wanna get out of here. That's a good idea.

How often does that happen?

It's a nightmare.

It's a nightmare.

David,

there's someone out there.

It's the wind.

No, it's Daryl.

Legs. Well, her husband's changed his name.

God only knows what he's involved in.

And Harry, I could swear I'm being followed.

I mean, I'm just coming with the leg.

Oh.

I thought you were trying to get into sack.

So?

So why the hell are you trying so hard to find her goddamn husband?

I mean, you turn this guy up while you're porking his old lady and things

are going to turn ugly.

Well, they already have, Harry.

Look, I don't think whoever popped you was after you. They were after me. Drop

the case. Walk away from her and don't look back.

You can't do that, Harry.

What's the first rule of missing persons worth?

The human body is only worth 78 cents.

Weather.

You were right.

It's gonna rain.

Pack some things.

I'm taking you to my place.

Lock your door.

Why? What's wrong?

Take a look in the rearview mirror.

Kind of like you're combing your hair.

Is there a guy following us in the car?

Sort of.

Do you recognize him?

I don't know. I can't really see him.

What's going on?

He's been following us since we left your house.

You sure you don't know who that is?

Can't you speed up? Maybe we could lose him.

That would really be dangerous.

Why?

Well, I don't drive all that well.

Look out!

Look

in

the glove box, Valerie.

Find the owner's manual.

The owner's manual? What don't you know? Valerie, just do it.

Thank you.

Chapter 1. How to operate your new Chevrolet. No, no, not into that in the

back.

Dealerships. 100 dealerships. Chevy dealerships. Find me the nearest Chevy

dealership.

Okay, there's one here on Figueroa. It's about six or eight blocks up. It should

be on the right.

You didn't love him, did you?

What?

Your husband.

You didn't love him.

What kind of question is that?

I hired you to find him, didn't I?

I want to know.

It's him.

What the hell?

How is this supposed to work?

David, what are we going to do? I thought of the Rockford files.

Well, what are we going to do? Go to the one place...

They know they won't fall.

Okay, we're safe now. He's coming after us.

Help. Somebody help us, please.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just a moment. Just a moment.

Oh, Stoner.

Are you Mrs.

McLaughlin?

Stoner, that's all right. That's all right. How do you do? I'm Lieutenant

Petkin. It's nice to meet you.

I'm awfully sorry. Hello.

Hello.

I'm awfully sorry I had to send a man out to your house.

You've been a very difficult lady to get in touch with these last few days.

I'll just take a few moments of your time if you don't mind.

I don't want you to be alarmed.

Is that your husband, Mrs. McLaughlin?

Yes.

Are you sure?

Yes.

It's all right, Mrs. McLaughlin.

Mr. Shepard, do you carry a handgun?

A P.I. license doesn't give me the right to carry a concealed weapon.

But I figure you know that already.

Yes, I do.

Yes, that would make it against the law.

Funny thing about my job.

I keep running into people who do things that are against the law.

Do you carry a handgun? No, I don't. But what's the difference?

Wasn't killed with a gun. He was beaten to death.

Sergeant, did you inform these people of the cause of death?

No, sir.

Then maybe you better explain to me how did you know the way he was killed?

I saw the body.

I assumed he wasn't killed with a gun.

What's going on here?

Are we under arrest or something? Oh, no, no, no. Did I say anyone was under

arrest? No.

I'm just making an assumption of my own. I'm just assuming that someone dragged

your husband downtown, someone familiar with police procedures, a private

investigator, maybe.

Someone who would know how to make it look like a skid row murder.

And then he beat him 47 times with a wooden club.

Now, you're not going to tell me your P.I. license doesn't allow you to carry

a two-by-four, are you?

No, I'm not going to tell you anything without an attorney. But he's accusing

us. Don't worry about it. He doesn't have anything.

He doesn't even have a motive.

Oh? Well, then again, maybe I do.

Val.

I call all my clients Val.

Are you going to walk into the DA's office with that?

Yes. I just might.

We're under investigation.

Oh, hey, buddy.

You two are the investigation.

I got news for you.

I've run Daryl Brian McLaughlin through every databank in the state, and believe

me, you could put his life to music. You could play it on Mr. Rogers'

neighborhood. No arrests, no convictions, no known associates, no

nothing. Nobody had any reason to kill this man, but his body's in the morgue,

his file's on my desk. Call me crazy. I would like to know how he died.

Cystic fibrosis.

Say that again.

Cystic fibrosis.

Daryl Bryant McCoughlin died in 1951 of cystic fibrosis. Oh, come on. Don't pull

my chain, please. I'm not pulling your chain.

The body in your morgue is a guy named Peter Kilgore.

Learn that through your computer.

Peter Kilgore,

two counts of public drunkenness, one DWI, two assault charges.

One child abuse, one child endangering, one wife battering. What?

One murder.

Wasn't exactly Mr.

Rogers, was he? I don't believe this. My husband couldn't have done those things.

Are you sure this is your husband?

Are you sure that's the St. Peter Kilgore? Sure, it's the St. Peter

Kilgore. K-I-L-G-O-R-E.

Six feet, 170 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes, born 1925.

Died 1959.

1959, wait a minute.

This has to be his father. Peter Kilgore Sr. Oh, come on, man.

Teal, is there another Peter Kilgore in there?

No, that's it.

Who did he murder? His wife.

He murdered his wife.

Where are you getting this?

Look, I saw their graves. They both died the same year.

He murdered his wife, and then he killed himself, right?

How should I know?

Check the field report.

Medical examiner said he had a .15 blood alcohol count, 100 cc's of water in his

esophagus, died from a fall from a four-story window, coroner's verdict,

suicide. I see.

That's right.

If he jumped out of a window, why did he have water in his throat?

Well, if the body was lying on its back in the middle of the street, it must

have been raining.

It was.

They had a son. He would have been about eight years old at the time.

What happened to him?

Actually, they had two children.

Legally, they'd have become wards of the court. They were probably sent to the

county foster home.

And where did all of this take place?

1379 Wallace.

What difference does it make?

What did any of this have to do with anything?

One of those two children was my husband.

Well, that's history, babe.

As far as I'm concerned, you two are the only people with a motive to kill.

You better go home. Stay there.

Start answering the phone, Valerie.

I can't believe he's thinking of us as suspects.

What are we supposed to do about that?

Find your husband.

My husband is dead.

I don't think so.

David, I just identified his body.

Identified what? Everything was all bloated. It was Daryl. How do you know

that? I mean, based on what? It could have been John Doe. It could have been

Daryl. It could have been anybody. I'm telling you, it was Daryl.

Look.

Who do you think was peeking in your window tonight? I mean, who do you think

was making the phone calls?

Some old habits die hard.

Even if it's just calling up your wife when you're out of town because you want

to hear the sound of her voice. Why can't you just drop this?

Why are you so hot to find him anyway? Why don't you want to find him?

Look, I was married to this man for seven years, and I suddenly find out I

don't know who the hell he is.

And quite honestly, even if he is still alive, I don't know that I ever want to

see him again.

He'll come back, Valerie.

He always did before.

Oh, God, I hate the rain.

I brought it. For protection.

Come on.

Where are we going?

Wallace Street.

What for?

Look, 30 years ago, Daryl's mother and father were murdered.

He was in the apartment, probably saw the whole thing.

He was young enough to be traumatized, still too old to forget it.

Even though he tried.

Changed his name, went to school.

Got a job, got married.

Something in his subconscious kept pulling him back for maybe two or three

days at a time until all of a sudden two weeks ago, bam, something happens,

disappears for good.

Why did you say murder?

What?

Murder. You said his mother and father were murdered.

So?

His father committed suicide.

I mean, Valerie, look at this picture. Look at his expression.

Maybe he didn't like his mother. Maybe he loved his mother. Maybe he hated his

father. I mean, who knows? He had his reasons. Look at the way he's looking at

the camera. Who do you think was taking the picture?

Believe it.

Abused children are often prone to violence. We're talking about an eight

-year-old boy. That's old enough.

But big enough to push a grown man out of a four-story window? A very drunk

grown man out of a wet, slippery four-story window? Yes.

So what if you're right? Why are we doing this? You hired me to find him.

Fine. You're fired. Fine. I'll find him on my own.

I gotta know what happened to him.

Look out!

What the hell was that?

That was Daryl.

You stay in the car and lock the door.

What are you doing here?

I heard a scream.

Well, so did I God you scared me to death. What's wrong with you?

What is it?

This is it. This is where it all happened.

What? How do you know that?

I've been here before.

Now what's wrong?

Thank you.

Oh.

I don't know.

Something about that guy.

What guy?

Shepard. Yeah.

Yeah, he's weird.

But he ain't dead and we got dead.

Another one?

Mm-hmm.

Where'd this one turn up?

Wallace Street.

Wallace Street?

Holy cow. Let's go.

That's funny.

What? This picture of his mother. She's much thinner here.

What are you doing?

I saw him.

Well, come back. You can't climb up there.

Hoplite!

Hello, Valerie.

God,

you scared me.

You shouldn't have come here.

Well, I'm sorry if it's inconvenient. I'd have called ahead, but your life has

been kind of unlisted lately.

Well, I called the house just a couple of hours ago.

You did?

Yeah. Was there someone there with you?

No, of course not.

Oh.

It's just that I thought I heard someone breathing on the extension.

No.

I came by the house.

See, I thought I saw someone with you then, too.

No.

Oh.

You've got to keep this shut. Damn it! How many times do I have to tell you?

You could get in this way.

Daryl, who could get in?

You know who.

Do you mean your father?

He's not dead.

I tried.

So I'm laying down there on the pavement.

And then I don't remember anything else. They told me there was a funeral, but

they wouldn't let me go, and I never was really sure that he was dead.

And then, uh, it was, uh... Yeah, it was a couple of years ago when he started

following me.

And I had to see him downtown, begging for change, and...

Hanging around the liquor store. I saw him at the... Daryl, it wasn't him. He's

dead.

Yeah, see, that's what I thought. Until that morning when I opened the newspaper

and there was his picture.

He was still alive. Daryl, it wasn't him. Honey, honey, it's okay. Don't

worry now.

You don't have to worry.

He's dead now.

I just killed him.

Yeah, I'm sorry. Why

did you come after me?

Do you still love me at all?

Daryl.

I love you so much, Val.

Oh, God, it's him!

No, Valerie!

this hank male caucasian shepherd no who is it i don't know he's

still alive

why'd

you come to me what are you

talking about why me because i needed a private detective I needed someone who

specialized in missing persons work. You already knew that.

Why me?

Where did you get my name?

I saw it clipping in a newspaper.

The clipping in a little desk in your living room?

Yeah.

The one your husband tore out? I guess. Valerie, he saw my picture. What if he

recognized me?

David, he was insane. He thought you were his father.

This picture.

What if she were never overweight?

What if she were pregnant?

The police said there were two children in the room that night.

The other one was me.

David.

Police officers, open up.

Say it again.

Damn ambulance.

It's too late. He's dead.

The landlady said his name was Peter Kilgore.

Now, that's the name they gave us, right? I mean, the real name of her

husband? Yeah.

And they killed him?

Don't be too sure. I just asked him what really happened up there, and he said, I

killed Peter Kilgore.

He was Peter Kilgore.

Yeah. So what he was saying was that he killed himself.

Don't tell me.

This one's your husband, too.

He was crazy.

He tried to kill us.

And when you told him how things were between the two of you, he jumped.

Is that it?

Okay.

Better take him to a doctor.

You think he really jumped?

I think she's really beautiful.

I can imagine a man jumping up four stories to be in a room with her, so...

I guess I can imagine him jumping out of one.

I don't know.

What can I tell you? I lose perspective when it comes to women.

You turn out the light, it disappears.

You're not going to disappear, are you?

Thank you.

Thank you.