Original subtitles

Two months.

Yes, I have important business meetings in Rome, Milan, Paris, London.

I also have to go to Budapest. I'll be negotiating with important business

leaders there.

Despite their politics, the Romanian government is interested in doing

business with my company.

They like our American dollars.

The trip will take me about two months.

And your wife is in Palm Springs now. How much longer should she be there?

In three days, I'm going over there as soon as I finish here to see that she

stays until you get your equipment in my home.

Is that long enough?

Oh, no problem. I can get the mics and cameras in in less than a day.

Every part of the house, you understand, including the pool area.

I don't trust her anywhere.

Mr. Cavanaugh, is there anyone in... particularly suspect in

connection with your wife's infidelity.

In particular? You must be kidding.

She's been screwing around with everyone.

Man, woman, dog, beast.

The chauffeur, her quack doctor, and a masseuse.

Yes, you mentioned her. She sounds quite attractive from her description.

Yes, tall, well-built.

Beautifully tanned, long brown hair.

Sweetie.

If Sheila hadn't made such a fool of herself over that sweet, I might have

given her a tumble.

Is there anyone else in the immediate household besides the chauffeur, the

doctor, the masseuse?

Oh, my daughter, Jean.

Oh, I'm a widower.

She stays with us occasionally.

She's 20.

Come in.

I'll check it later.

Yes, sir.

Do you have that letter I asked you to check off for me?

Yes, here it is.

That'll do fine.

How do you want the check made out for your fees?

I'll just make it out to Dick Scott.

To some, he was known as the Great Scott.

To broads, well, there was only one way you could describe the way they felt.

They liked to think he was their... private dick for reasons we will we

don't have to go into he did anywhere anytime and with anybody

but hell let's face it he was a damn good private eye oh he had his

ups and downs but he knew his business inside and out trouble was most of his

clients wives and even the help wanted him inside and that was his weakest

point

Ask Rose.

Ask anything.

Oh, who are you?

I'm Mr. Woodruff.

I'm associated with Mr. Cavanaugh.

Mr. Cavanaugh didn't tell you he was expecting visitors.

Oh, well, that's all right.

What's your name?

Rose, sir. I'm the maid, sir.

Oh, well, Rose.

Why don't you get me a drink?

Okay.

Like Achilles' soft heel or Samson, who would let his hair down for Delilah,

Dick's problem was pretty obvious.

It stuck out like a sore thumb and throbbed twice as hard.

And every snatch from here to Calcutta had to find out if the thing that stood

between him and them was for real.

Well, it was.

I ought to know. I've been pretty close to Dick Scott for a hell of a long time.

Well, you might say...

I've watched the rise and fall of the big deck.

Many a night, I've had to act as a wailing wall for some poor dame who

cried her mascara thin over that big stud.

But man, I've got to admit, the guy was really good.

By the time he climbed off, every broad he laid had caught it. But good.

And believe me, He could park his shoes under their bed any time he came, day or

night.

None of the comings and goings and the millionaire's diggings went unnoticed by

our Sherlock.

Oh, no.

He had that joint so staked out a dust particle couldn't have ridden in on a

gnat's ass.

Every nook and cranny was covered by the best equipment money could buy.

And Cavanaugh had plenty of lettuce.

Watching the TV monitor sometimes even got to Scott.

But in his business, he learned to stay cool.

He was rarely surprised by what he saw while spying for fun and profit.

Like Cavanaugh's wild, young Lolita.

Operator, yes, I'd like to make a person-to-person call to Mrs. Sheila

Kavanaugh at 374-8732 in Palm Springs.

Oh, yes, the number here is 766-3878.

Mm-hmm. Thank you.

What, operator?

Oh, yeah, tell her Ms. Jean Kavanaugh is calling.

Oh, Dad.

Yes, it's me.

I thought you left for Europe.

Oh, tomorrow.

Where are you calling from?

Where am I? At the house.

Is there anybody in the house?

Well, there's nobody up here. Why?

I told you I'm here on my own.

Oh, Jim, yeah, he's okay.

Look, Dad, can I talk to Sheila? Is she there?

Okay, thanks.

Sheila?

Hi.

Daddy sure sounded uptight.

Yeah, I kept asking about the house.

I think you're right. He's been nervous for some time. Working too hard.

Oh, I miss you too.

It's so lonesome here.

Look, I know you can't say anything with Dad there. But when are you coming back?

Tomorrow.

Good.

She thinks you'll have two whole months.

Won't be able to sleep very well tonight without you.

The old man was sure the kid was as pure as the driven snow and he was half

right his little girl was Technically a virgin that is where men were concerned

what daddy warbucks didn't know was that little Gene was also on his wife's list

of conquests.

Hell, a kid would get so turned on just talking over the phone with her

beautiful stepmother.

She couldn't wait and did the job on herself.

What a waste.

Of course, the old man was dying to take a crack at his daughter himself, but he

figured if he ever was caught, Sheila would flip her diaphragm and really give

him a hard time.

sweet little Jean was a dyke, he would have shit little gold robos.

As he watched the luscious Jean soap herself up, he thought about how much he

would have liked to help her along.

After all, he was only human, and he could take just so much.

He had his melting point, too.

Until he thought about the dough he'd be blowing.

So glad you're back.

Do you think father will come home?

Oh, I think I can handle him if he does.

Oh, good.

But watching the sexy Sheila go to work on her stepdaughter was almost too much.

He'd never seen two bodies as heavenly as these two.

And he'd been around a hell of a lot.

With his eyes glued to the TV monitor, it was getting harder and harder for

him. Dick to control himself.

Sheila was driving M8, and he was about ready to take on a female gorilla.

Man, that broad was really something else.

Mrs. Capitone?

Uh-huh? An introduction from your husband.

Cavanaugh had given Dick a letter explaining to his wife that he was a

business associate, a Mr. John Woodruff of the Chicago office.

He was supposed to prepare some reports for him while he was in Europe to be

forward to him there when completed.

Sheila bought the phony cover, and Dick went right to work.

Now, if you could show me through the study so I can get to work.

All right.

Thank you.

Sheila's personal masseuse was a tall, beautifully constructed Swede named

Inga. She serviced the beautiful nympho inside and out,

manipulating her hand massager like an electric vibrator.

She was a real pro.

Dick could already see he was going to have a report to give the old man that

was going to make Lady Chatterley's lover look like a Girl Scout manual.

Thank you.

you

Looks like I got here just in time, huh?

We'll do Rick the chauffeur had been imported from gay Paris by Sheila on

one of her European shopping trips she thought the Frenchman was about as

beautiful as a guy could be and Rick was definitely all man There was no

mistaking that fact Inga really knew her business To say she was more than just a

rub-down artiste would be an understatement.

She used everything in her bag of tricks.

As for little Jean, she didn't miss a thing.

She was picking up pointers like a sponge.

And she was a damn good student.

And hell, with a tutor like the big-titted Swede, who wouldn't have

gotten E for effort?

As for Sheila, she was really something else.

I've never seen a vampire, but, man, I'll tell you, if this broad had liked

to suck blood, there wouldn't have been a man around that house with a drop left

in him.

By the time Sheila got through with Rick, it was a miracle the guy was able

to walk or drive anything but her hearse.

That gal was brutal.

All in all, it was... like looking at a real first-class stag film.

If Dick had sold tickets to the front row seats, he'd have been sold out every

night. It was a sideshow of some of the wildest sex acts ever performed, and

there wasn't a fat or bearded lady among those freaks.

But the wildest broad of all was Sheila.

She couldn't get enough.

Well, Sheila, my dear, what seems to be the matter?

Oh.

Well, I think we'll have to give you a little examination and see what it's all

about.

Even Dr.

Webster, the horny old bastard, made a house call at least every other day

without fail to check out his prized patient, whether she needed him or not.

And if she didn't, he'd wait for an opening, any opening that presented

itself.

There always seemed to be one prescription that needed filling.

Where's our party? Nobody's doing anything.

You see, Sheila had her own bridge club who met every other afternoon while

Daddy Warbucks was off making his millions.

Only in this club...

Nobody cared for Bridge, so they made up their own games.

One thing about this little get-together, everybody got a prize.

But the straw that broke the camel's hump for Dick was seeing Sheila

all alone.

That was too much for him.

But, Hal, you couldn't hold it against him.

After all, a gorgeous doll like... Kavanaugh's nympho wife wasn't hard to

take. Our boy figured this little exercise was part of the side benefits

he enjoyed as a private eye.

After all, his job was to take care of Kavanaugh's wife.

He was sure as hell going to do just that.

Besides, Sheila still thought he was a business partner of her husband's.

And you can bet he wasn't the first of Cavanaugh's business associates to fall

under her spell.

Ah, but Dick Scott was something else.

And Sheila was quick to realize she'd finally met her match.

So she threw everything she had into the ring.

No holes barred.

But Dick was up for it.

He could take everything she could shove at him. And then some.

Daddy Warbucks' oversexed wife was giving a good account of herself.

She was a real pro.

If you gave her an inch, she'd take a mile, or two, or three.

Everything Dick had, and he had plenty.

So as I said before, he wasn't called the Great Scott for nothing.

He was a walking advertisement for the saying, walk softly, but carry a big

stick.

You would have thought Sheila had a bottomless hole inside her. You know,

like the endless caverns. Ah, she was unbelievable.

But oh, how she loved it.

They were like a couple of animals.

Wild animals.

Wild cats.

Fighting for the best position.

And they tried them all.

One minute she was on top.

The next minute the bottom.

Changing positions all the time.

waiting for an opening.

But just when it looked like Dick was on his way to a touchdown and won the old

ball game, he was thrown for a big loss, a defeat he would never

live down.

Ah.

Oh, that's good.

It was Danny Warbucks himself, and with not one, but two photographers.

Dick Scott was set up for a beautiful frame.

And the old man, he had all the proof he needed.

Double proof.

Who set it up? I did, of course. Me.

My name is Callahan.

Irish Callahan.