Original subtitles

Our victim is a female Caucasian,

35 to 40 years old.

Preliminary impressions.

Lividity, I'd guess it between 8 and 10 hours.

We don't know how she died, but we're gonna find out.

If he resists, you book him.

Quincy, it's wound up, you're licked.

Now will you... Come on, take it like a man.

I never read word one.

You're so cute, how come I don't believe you?

Doctor, I believe we're confronting a double homicide.

Then the police would know, wouldn't they?

Not until you tell 'em.

They tell me.

Not if you knew what you were doing!

How's my girl?

Do you have to ask?

What's wrong?

What's wrong is I'm scared.

Lord knows I need the money,

but this so-called fictional account of my life...

Arthur, I feel as though half of Malibu

is rummaging through my garbage cans for clues.

They probably are, and lovin' every minute of it.

Just burn your notes and keep 'em guessin'.

Look, you've written two dynamite chapters. and that outline...

You know that character you call Loretta?

You've painted her better

than she's ever looked in real life.

You've got Hollywood and New York by the ears.

I don't care about Hollywood and New York, or anyone in the business.

It's that episode in Mexico in 1967.

Those are the people to worry about.

I advanced you a small fortune, Margo.

I won't have you hedging on what you know.

That's not the way we agreed to work.

And you agreed not to leak word

to the columns. Not so soon, anyway.

Have you seen today's Times?

You're going to be a very rich woman.

The question is, is it worth it?

Yes. Use your head, Margo.

Once you're in print, who's gonna touch you? They can't.

It would be an open admission of guilt.

But we aren't in print yet, are we?

And you've gone ahead and opened me up to the whole bloody world!

I'm gonna get out of here for a while.

Try to crash out the rest of the book.

I'm checking into the Sunset Motel in Santa Monica.

I'll be registered under the name of Barbara Miller.

Okay.

If tight security makes you feel any better,

But remember where I told you the money waits,

It's scandal, sweetheart.

Muck for buck.

Keep them coming, Eddie. All four angles.

Okay, Sam.

Shoot the bathroom, the closet,

regardless of how it looks.

It's SOP.

Right.

Our victim is a female Caucasian,

35 to 40 years old.

Now you say that she checked in

yesterday afternoon around 3:00

by the name of Barbara or Beverly Miller.

Right.

Otherwise, there was no address,

no auto registration,

no luggage, no purse, no I.D.? Come on.

Look, she had all that. I don't know.

That registration card must have been misplaced.

I've been looking a" over for it.

Look, honey,

go into the office and take another look again.

Look, pal, why don't you give us a break?

She was turnin' tricks in here, so what?

No one cares, huh. At least we're trying

to get an ID. On a prostitute.

She didn't look like one to me.

What's in there

are three brief items of garish clothing,

a hairbrush and lipstick. Now, come on!

Look, she came in. She was dressed up

and she had luggage.

Lots of luggage.

Yeah, And she was a real lady.

Victim's right hand is also empty,

extended toward a vodka bottle.

Well?

Done.

What do you mean, done?

Half done. We're not clear until the bodies are in the grave.

What're you talkin' about?

Yes, but this was a rough one.

That old man in New York drank like a fish.

Margo, on the other hand, was in very good shape.

Hey, wait a minute. You said this was a lock.

Undetectable. Those were your exact words.

This is murder we're talkin' about.

It isn't a game of backgammon down in Puerto Vallarta.

There aren't three men in the world

who could pick up on what put Margo

out of her miserable senses.

And believe me,

none of them were at that motel.

You heard the verdict?

For all practical purposes, cirrhosis.

Poor Margo simply drank herself to death.

Hey, you relax, you take it easy.

We still have a little work ahead of us.

Yeah. Hmm.

Whose blood alcohol is that?

The Miller woman.

You investigated it yourself.

Becoming a real virtuoso.

Everything matching up?

No problem.

She was drinking.

Not the Pacific Ocean, but a trace.

Mmm-hmm. Do we go in?

I don't know. We're backed up to Philadelphia

and the weekend hasn't even started. Where is she?

Outside.

Oh, the whites of the eyes are jaundiced.

Some epidural hemorrhaging.

Sure looks like terminal liver disorder.

Maybe, uh, serum hepatitis or cirrhosis.

You see any needle marks?

Not a one.

You know, I read the scene as fatal acute ethanol intoxication

or liver failure brought on by same.

What's your batting average these days?

Perfect.

Ah so? Humble, too, huh?

Pretty woman. Shame, isn't it?

Well, a $100 prostitute is still a prostitute.

Sam, old age is making you mean.

What's gonna happen when you hit 28?

I'm shooting for debonair,

just like my honorable mentor.

You haven't a chance.

How did you make her out to be a prostitute?

No baggage, clothes, or anything else at the motel room.

Take a smear and the phosphatase anyway,

will you?

If you say so.

I say so.

Do we go in?

Well, unless somebody pops up with a family doctor,

who's got a choice?

What's the matter? A shooting.

What next?

I figure they've had enough time

to check her over by now.

You're a prime candidate for a heart attack.

Well, maybe it's the company I keep.

I don't know how I survived five years

on the outpost of democracy with a paranoid like you.

Listen, that's a little different.

Until we dispose of that body and the one in New York.

Look, I can't stand waitin' around anymore.

I'm goin' down to the funeral parlor.

No, you're not going anywhere.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means I'll take care of the funeral home.

And you think I can't?

You've got anxiety written all over you.

We can't afford any mistakes.

What're you talkin' about?

Haven't I always handled my end? Come on.

Kendal, you will agree,

this situation is a little different from the old days.

If that funeral director doesn't buy our story,

if we don't get the body cremated, it's all over.

Just lay some cash on him, he'll buy it.

See what I mean, anxiety?

We can't offer any more cash than what's expected

under a perfectly normal situation.

Calm, sincerity.

Our funeral director wants to believe

he's doing the right thing.

Margo was, uh, shall we say, a family embarrassment.

We have been informed through her friend,

of whom we do not approve,

that she has unceremoniously been hauled away by the city,

as they would some stray cat

at the side of the road

and now lies in the city morgue,

unknown, uncared for.

How do you like it so far?

I see. And you represent Barbara Miller's family?

Yes, the firm's had a retainer relationship

with Bud Miller for years.

The Millers and my family are quite close

socially as well.

My very deepest condolences.

I'm sure you well understand the pain

that family's experienced.

Tragic.

I assume the Millers will want

a completely private disposition.

You put it exactly the way I meant to.

It's not all that uncommon, Mr. Fredricks,

whatever small consolation that is.

Still, you made this far easier than I anticipated.

Uh, as I understand it,

you handle arrangements directly with the, uh, morgue?

Oh, Coroner's Office, yes. It's all very routine.

There is a mental health problem

with Emily, Mrs. Miller.

The faster we can conclude the tragedy...

Say no more.

Dr. Quincy?

When I buzz an extension, I expect an answer.

When I leave a message, I expect a response.

Does that sound unreasonable?

Not at all, sir.

But if you say it's unreasonable,

I'll back you 100%.

Quincy, I'm not through with you.

Sam, check these lung sections for crystals, will you?

Two weeks ago we reached an agreement,

do you recall?

Oh, not that again.

How'd you get me to sell my soul, anyway?

You were on duty.

Dodgers-Braves twilight double-header.

You said you had to see it or die?

I agreed to have it taken care of.

Did I say that?

Mmm-hmm.

Your exact words.

Now, Quincy, it would behoove our department

if the two of us would sit down together

and evaluate exactly

what you're going to say at the symposium.

Where am I supposed to give these lectures?

Palm Springs, Las Vegas? Where?

Buffalo.

Buffalo?

New York.

Now, here are my thoughts.

"Police-Coroner aspects

"as they facilitate the investigation

of the pathology of homicide."

Catchy title, sir.

Catchy or uncatchy, the Mayor's office

attaches a great deal of importance to this.

If it's so important, why are you giving it to me?

Why don't you give it to somebody who has poise, who is glib.

I'm very busy. Will you take a look at this place?

Well, I knew it. I knew that you would try

to weasel out of this at the last minute.

Believe me, I'm only thinking what's best for all of us.

Doctor, you made a deal with me.

And by all that's holy, you are going through with it.

Now, your plane leaves tomorrow.

Now, till then, you get busy structuring lectures.

I have some ideas of my own

that I would like to kick around, you know.

In the meantime, who supervises this stampede?

I do.

You do?

Dr. Quincy, do you think that I became

the Chief Administrative Assistant to the Coroner

by taking a Civil Service exam?

I, too, am a doctor, Doctor.

Oh, try not to alarm the patients.

You parked it right in front again,

and in broad daylight.

Come on, Quincy,

people around the Marina are beginnin' to ask:

"Why is the Coroner's car

parked in front of Danny's restaurant?"

These bar napkins are expensive.

Here's a pad. Give him a pad next time.

By the way, what are you doing here so early?

Things dead down at the shop?

Aren't you ashamed of yourself?

Well, it seemed to me that...

What's the matter?

That tan.

So what about it?

Reminds me of somebody.

Yeah?

With us or departed?

Hmm.

It's not make-up, is it?

Is there something I can do for you?

It's perfect, just perfect.

Well, would you like to put that in writing?

For my husband?

I'll be delighted.

Oh, listen, I'm interested in your suntan.

You do have it all over, haven't you?

Oh, I'm... Relax, I'm a doctor.

Freelance, no doubt.

To get a tan like that, what do you have to do?

Join a private club or something like that?

Listen, mister.

Oh, excuse me. Doctor.

I have a private yard, a private patio,

and a very large husband.

And beautiful fingernails.

Danny, could we have some rescue over here, please?

Sure, Lorraine, Harriet, Dr. Quincy.

How do you do?

You really are a doctor?

Lorraine, don't press it.

Well, is he or isn't he?

Is.

Didn't you see his car parked right in front of the place?

May I, please?

It's incredible. They are a work of art.

Where do you get these done?

Beverly Hills, where else?

Thank you.

You've really helped me a lot.

Thank you for letting me look at your nails.

Those drinks are on me.

Weird.

I never met a nail man before. Hmm.

Oh, he may well be an excellent pathologist,

but when it comes to administrative decision-making,

good grief.

Sam, I-I-I-let's just get a little outward flow.

Hankin, that's a natural.

So is Gatz. So is Miller.

Quincy wants to post mortem the Miller woman.

Well, Sam, she's an alcoholic prostitute.

That's an obviously natural death.

I am a Deputy Coroner trying to organize a stampede.

Jones, we better, uh, post.

Quincy seemed stronger about posting the Miller woman

than Mr. Jones.

Sam.

Just trying to be helpful.

What did they say? What did they say?

Our sources were accurate.

We've got the right boy.

He asked all the wrong questions.

You mean he didn't smell anything?

Derrick, you're losing faith in me.

You should have done it yourself.

I just can't believe it's come to this, that's all.

Hey, she brought this on herself.

There's nothing immoral about self-defense.

You beginning to doubt it was worth it?

I didn't say that.

Yet. When are they gonna release the body?

It's on the way.

Hmm.

What do you mean, she's gone?

She can't be gone. I put her on hold.

I told Astin, Quincy, but he initialed her out.

Bergman and Thompson.

Moved her out of here like gangbusters.

Then she isn't a Jane Doe. Someone contacted a mortuary.

Obviously.

Then who is she?

Where did she live? What did she do?

Prostitution.

I wouldn't bet on it.

Oh? Even Monahan thinks so.

Another oracle heard from.

Hello, honey, Quincy.

Listen, plug me in to Borgman and Thompson, will you?

Yeah, I'm holding.

Oh, relax. Will you relax, we'll get her back.

Hello, this is Dr. Quincy,

City Medical Examiner.

Mr. Thompson, your people picked up

a Beverly or Barbara Miller earlier today from us?

And, uh, we find in checking our records

that we're coming up short on both I.D. information

and a statement from her private physician.

I presume you have both?

Yes, of course. Everything was handled

by the attorney representing the Miller family,

a Harold Fredricks of Fredricks & Hackbart.

Good. Who's the physician?

Uh, Neal Hammerman, M.D.

Her GYN, I think he said.

He said? Uh, look at the death certificate

and tell me exactly what he is.

Well, I could call him

and have him call you, if you'd like.

Tell me what's written on her sheet.

Uh, Dr. Hammerman is dropping it off on his way home.

He-he's very rushed surgery-wise,

so we pushed ahead, telephonically.

You took his word over the telephone?

Listen, Thompson, I want that woman brought back here now.

Do you understand me?

Why not? You did what?

No, no, Mr. Thompson.

I don't think I have any need for her ashes.

Thank you. All right, Sam,

Gather up whatever you've got on that Miller woman

and start pushing.

Uh, that blood alcohol I took

still has got to be quantitated.

Well, you took a smear and the phosphatase, didn't you?

Where's Adam? I want you to update Adam.

I want him to take a look at that smear and phosphatase.

In the meantime, I want you to try to round up a Harold Fredricks

from Fredricks & Hackbart

and Dr. Neal Hammerman, okay?

I'm going to see Astin.

Yes?

Astin.

You initialed the Miller woman a natural

without going in. Why?

You're supposed to be writing a speech, Doctor.

I want you to hear this.

At 10:30, she was a Jane Doe.

At 1:00, she was at Bergman and Thompson's, in ashes.

What's your point?

I put a hold on Mrs. Miller for a reason.

Well, I initialed her out for a reason.

Why? My desk was messy?

You didn't like the way she looked?

You did bother to look at her, didn't you?

Dr. Quincy, all of us at certain frustrated moments

tend to redirect our wrath

toward whomever or whatever is available.

But I'd watch it.

Sure, boss. Did you check her suntan?

Her suntan? Yes.

Uh-oh. What has that got to do with forensics?

Her tan was perfect.

There wasn't a halter or a bikini mark on her.

So she sunbathed in the nude.

That has nothing to do with our job.

Our job is to intercept everything

the body is trying to tell us.

And her body screamed money!

Oh, in what language?

Nude sunbathing is illegal around here.

She would need her own place, private.

The nails she was wearing cost a fortune.

They'd have to be constantly done.

Expensive ladies of the evening

have overhead, too.

Plus the fact that she was in awfully good shape

for that stage of alcoholism.

Now, if I were you, I would fine-comb that motel room.

Oh, really? Do I take that as an order?

What did you find out?

The lawyer and the doctor are phonies.

They snowed Bergman and Thompson.

On top of that,

the smear and phosphatase are negative,

and so is the blood alcohol.

That means she wasn't drinking.

And if she was a prostitute, which I doubt,

it was a long time between customers.

All right, all right, let's just calm down.

Just calm down. Good grief.

We may have goofed it a smidgeon on the front end.

But there's still very little evidence for us

to start running around screaming conspiracy.

I don't believe it.

A phony lawyer, a phony doctor.

Copping the body for immediate cremation.

What else do we need?

Dr. Quincy, it's not your problem.

I will handle it from here.

Now, you busy yourself with your pencil

and your paper and packing your little bag

for Buffalo, New York.

Quincy, just where do you think you're going?

To get you off the hook.

Your initials are on the release, remember?

It's a little premature to be getting hysterical.

What we've got at most is a misappropriation of a body.

You know, that... that... that's not even a felony.

It's a disposition of a body.

We've seen this happen time and time again.

Where're you going?

Uh, back to the lab.

Oh.

Sam.

I'd keep away from Quincy on this one.

He'd have us believe that this was, uh,

some sort of

a worldwide conspiracy.

Sorry to have kept you waiting.

Oh, that's all right.

Listen, I noticed every place does it differently.

Over on Sunset Boulevard they use hot oil.

YOU use a cream massage.

The Juliet Technique they use across the street.

Oh, you're quite an aficionado.

Either that or you're very into feet.

Oh, I'm into feet, hair, eyebrows.

I like the whole package. Are you the manager?

Yeah.

I'm Dr. Quincy, Coroner's Office.

Oh, well.

Um, nice, but we haven't lost a patient all day.

No, no, no, nothing like that.

A woman was found earlier today,

and we had difficulty identifying her.

Now, one of the few leads we have is that

she had beautifully manicured nails.

Now, as a hunch, I figured with nails like that,

she must've frequented a salon.

Hey, if you want me to go to the morgue to look at...

No, no, no, no, no, no.

I have a photograph. I'd like you to look at it.

If you recognize her, tell me who she is.

Pretty bad?

No, not bad at all. No.

What did she die of?

That I can't disclose until we're through testing.

Maybe I'd better describe her to you...

No. No. It's okay.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Okay. It's not bad.

Oh, my God.

Margo Bentley.

Are you all right?

Breathe deeply. Come on, take deep breaths.

Get a glass of water, will you, please?

Come on. Come on, breathe.

Margo Bentley?

The girl who runs with the jetsetters and movie stars?

Where's the water? Come on, please.

Here, drink this first.

What's the difference how I found out, Sam.

It's a positive on Margo Bentley.

Old Malibu Road. That's in the Colony.

Margo Bentley, huh?

I think I heard about her some place.

Oh, you heard about her in the newspapers.

She's been writing a book about her life

with the celebrities. All that cockamamie.

Are you gonna go to the cops?

No. No cops, Sam. Not until we get a handle on this.

Between you and me, Astin blew this thing,

but, well, goin' to the cops is going over his head.

We gotta bail him out.

Now you help me cover,

and I'll make you queen of Tokyo Gardens.

All right, what do you want me to do?

Well, have Adam prepare a blood smear

and a blood agar slant culture.

Then I want you to get back to that motel again,

and cover it this time like a vacuum cleaner.

Okay. I'll get out there as soon as

I get something on my stomach.

No, no, Sam. Do it first. I'll pick up hamburgers

and meet you at the beach house.

All right.

Boy, you did a beautiful job refinishing this binnacle.

You are the best, Gus.

You want a hernia? I got one extra.

That boat's really built, huh, Gus?

You of all people talking.

You ought to know about the lower abdomen

and stress.

Lift with the legs, man.

I'll tilt it, you grab the other edge. Okay?

Go ahead.

That's it, lift it up.

Put it on the edge of the wagon.

Then jump inside, will you?

I ain't goin' in there.

I can't hold it forever, come on.

Then you go in there.

All right, we'll switch sides. Put it down.

Oh, boy!

Okay. Okay.

Tilt it over to you. Okay. You got it?

Inside, now.

Inside.

Okay.

You got somethin' to cover it?

The kids will rip it off of you.

I'm loaded with covers.

I had to ask.

Yes, sir, can I help you?

Yeah, let me have two Cheeseburgers Deluxe,

two orders of French fries, two vanilla shakes,

and two large coleslaws, will you?

You've got some kind of appetite.

Doubles down the line? Are you sure?

Hey, I can't eat all that, half of it is for my friend.

And hurry it up, will you, kid?

My friend is awful hungry.

Yes, sir.

Fujiyama, what are your people doin' here?

Doin' here? Looking around, that's all.

Why?

Seemed like the thing to do.

Look, there's a Police Department seal on that front door.

The manager of this motel called my office

and was wonderin' what you're doin' here.

I'm wondering the same thing.

SOP, Monahan.

Standard Operating Procedure.

Did you get a cause of death on the prossy?

Yeah. Natural.

Then why this?

Why not?

We're full of cutes today, aren't we, Sammy, huh?

All right. Where is he?

Where is who?

He who put you up to this. Quincy.

Oh, Quincy had nothing to do with it.

As a matter of fact, he's off-duty

writing his speech.

Sam.

Don't worry about that.

Excuse me.

Are you telling me the truth?

Really. I wouldn't...

You should stay away from him.

Right.

Kevin?

Can you keep a secret?

Sure.

I suppose I shouldn't say this,

but Margo's confided in me

about certain people she's including in her book

you know, being neighbors and friends.

Uh, let's go for a walk, all right?

If she prints one word

of that little happening in Antibes,

I'll slap a lawsuit on her so fast

she won't know what hit her.

Oh, come on, calm down.

You know Margo would never do that.

As a matter of fact, she's got a special chapter

on young leading men like you.

You know, mostly you and Dean and Larry.

A whole chapter?

Hmm. She's calling it "The Three Little Pigs."

My dear Claire,

that little joke was young when you were.

Looking for termites?

Oh, This is Margo Bentley's place, isn't it?

Who wants to know?

Coroner's Office.

No, wait a minute. Not Margo.

I'm afraid so. I'm a medical examiner.

I was hoping to find out more about Margo Bentley.

Oh?

I... I was with her yesterday.

Wait till they hear this.

What's your name?

I'm Claire Gardner.

Claire, we're in a kind of touchy situation.

We're trying to buy little time

before the newspapers explode it

and complicate our job.

Can I count on you to keep quiet about this?

What happened to her?

Well, we're not sure yet.

Did she have any family that you know of?

No one. Not anyone.

Will you help me?

What happened to her?

First, will you cooperate?

Sure, Margo drank, but mostly to loosen up.

She had money problems.

You know, aggravation with taxes

and that sort of thing.

The only reason she was doing the book was for money.

Everyone in Malibu was on her back,

either to be written out or written in.

Wait a minute. You're telling me that she did have enemies.

People with scandals behind them.

Hey, you're making it sound like

you think somebody killed her.

Look, we don't know how she died,

but we're gonna find out.

Do you have a key?

I know where she keeps it.

Hey, look, the door's open.

Hold it right there!

I'm a police officer.

Among other things.

Quincy!

He's exactly what he says he is,

so why don't you put that away before someone gets hurt.

Oh. Um...

I-I'm sorry.

I thought I was bagging a cat burglar.

You have a license to carry that gun?

Yes.

Do you have a warrant for this search?

Touché, Monahan.

I'll get to you.

How did you know where to find me?

I'm takin' Sam's place.

Here's his lunch.

And you?

I'm Lynn Dressler, Frank Swayne Realty.

We manage this property.

I was just checking up to see if our cleaning...

Why are the police here?

To see him.

Yeah, we're neighbors. Claire Gardner, I'm Quincy.

This is It. Monahan, our local lovable sheriff.

You know, I don't understand this.

When I was here yesterday,

this was full of Margo's things.

Her... her books and her typewriter

were right over there.

Who's Margo?

She lives here.

When was the last time you spoke to her?

Noonish.

I thought that she was absolutely delighted

with this place.

She give you any reason for moving?

Mmm-hmm. Privacy.

I guess writers need that.

Oh. I've got to run.

I'm showing a house in exactly two minutes ago.

I guess I can trust the police to lock up tight.

Um, nice meeting you all.

Oh, and again, I'm sorry about the gun.

A woman on her own. I guess you know,

the, uhh, the people crawling the streets these days.

Takes a lot of courage just to read the newspapers.

Isn't that the truth.

If I were a smart lieutenant,

I'd go out there

and try to catch her license plate.

Quincy, regardless of what's happenin' in your life,

I expect you outside in five minutes

to explain why a police seal was broken

on a quarantined motel room,

Ma'am.

All packed and gone in a few hours

and nobody notices.

That isn't kosher.

Have you had lunch?

Derrick? Yes.

Where have you been?

Oh, I got caught up in the traffic, I'm sorry.

We have problems, Yeah?

When I double-checked the mortuary,

I found out a medical examiner, Quincy, phoned.

He was, uh, he was very upset.

The same fellow just showed at Margo's place.

Well, how in the world did he put that together so fast?

By being very, very good.

You know somethin',

this is gettin' messier and messier.

Yeah.

Who else is gonna be gettin' on

on this bandwagon now?

Oh, I think he's on his own. The cop showed up.

He apparently doesn't get along too well with him.

Yeah.

That doesn't mean they won't start listening

if he keeps diggin'.

How much has he got?

Nothing so far. Except an ID. on Margo.

Then we're still to leave for New York?

I don't think we have any other choice

if we expect to clean up the loose ends.

It's too late to quit now,

even if we have to come back

and clean up this, uh, medical guy.

You know what I mean?

Well, let's hope he gives up.

For his sake.

Yeah.

All right. I'll talk to you later.

Bye-bye.

Look, the Jane Doe in the motel room,

is she or isn't she a natural death?

Ask Astin, it's his case.

I'm asking you pursuant to my discovery

of Sam Fujiyama on quarantined premises.

What did Sam say?

A lot of bull.

Now, Quincy, he's scared about something. What?

Okay, Monahan,

The Jane Doe in the motel room? Yeah.

She's Margo Bentley.

The lady in the newspapers.

Oh, marron. No! Not another circus!

Come on, now, Quincy.

What are you trying to stir up?

The death was a natural. I read your report.

Oh, no, no, you read Astin's report.

The seat of my pants says homicide.

They released and cremated her

before I had a chance to find out who she was.

Look, I don't care what the seat of your pant says.

That's it. The case isn't a case.

Now I can go back to my office

and work on the other 29 gunshot murders

spread across my desk.

Come on, will you, Monahan, a body is stolen for immediate cremation.

A classy Malibu lady was found in a motel,

made out to look like a chippy. Why?

Why? Who knows why?

Wait a minute, I'll tell you why.

Margo Bentley ran around with that movie crowd.

They're a kinky bunch of people.

And kinks do kinky things.

Like commit homicide?

No, like crawling off by themselves

and drinking themselves to death.

Her friends probably whisked her away

to save her from public humiliation.

Who knows?

Quincy, I'm up to my armpits in homicides.

And they're for real.

Okay.

Listen, I guess if I were in your shoes,

I'd take the same position.

It's about time.

Then you're droppin' this one?

Well, Monahan,

if you were in my shoes, would you?

Anything?

Yeah, but I don't know what I'm looking at.

I've never set eyes on anything like it in my entire life.

I'm not interested in your autobiography.

Let me see.

What's up?

The Bentley woman's blood smear.

I can't make it out.

Flip it up on the screen.

You recognize it?

No. What is it?

Looks like a color plate in a textbook.

You know Marv Babitch over at UCLA?

The hematologist? Sure.

I want you to round him up for me

and have him bring his slides.

You know what time it is?

He's probably in bed.

So it'll make it easier for you to find him, won't it?

Get on your horse.

Flip it on the screen again, will you?

Taking anything for it?

Lest I remind you, Doctor, that I am a doctor.

Now just get on with it.

I know Jane Doe was Margo Bentley.

I had to hear that tidbit from It. Monahan.

Better for me than from his wife

who's very heavy into newspapers.

Quincy, don't toy with me, please. Please.

Come in.

Babitch is on his way.

Okay. You got that thing with you?

Yeah.

My boys glommed it from a tuck

in the curtains at the motel.

What is it?

It's a bug.

My electrical genius tells me it's called a Phillips Minnow.

It will pick up a whisper at five yards and transmit 70.

Listen, genius, that could have been in the room

for weeks or months.

Hey, don't... don't private detectives

use those things for, uh...

Doctor, no schlock private eye uses a Phillips Minnow.

These gadgets are brand-new technology and they cost big money.

Big money, big people.

Dr. Quincy, do I have to, uh, caution you repeatedly?

You know what you have? A lot of thin, circumstantial

and eclectic gatherings.

Astin, please.

A beach house swept clean of her possessions overnight.

A family that claimed the body

when Margo Bentley had no family.

There were phony lawyers, there were phony doctors,

now this.

Doctor.

Let's redirect ourselves to the basics.

There is no body.

Thanks to you.

And without a body,

this office has no justifiable involvement.

Now, should these circumstances

that you find so provocative, interest It. Monahan,

then, I would be perfectly willing.

Oh, good grief.

Hello?

Dr. Quincy? Yeah.

Claire Gardener.

Um, could I meet you some place?

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm waiting for somebody.

It is important?

Hold on, will you? Sam.

Listen, I'm gonna go home.

When Babitch get here, have him work on the slide

and see if he can figure out what it is. Then have him call me.

Right.

You know how to get to the Marina?

Hey, this is some kind of place you live.

What was it?

A boat. What do you mean "was"?

She's gonna take me around the world someday.

Come on in.

You want a drink?

Do I dare?

I recommend a Mai Tai followed by a Loose Tongue.

Sounds fabulous. When do we begin?

Right now.

Uh-oh.

I know I promised you a Mai Tai.

I'm afraid you're gonna have to settle for Scotch.

You know, this is a very, very seaworthy ship here.

A few minor repairs,

and I'm gonna go to Hawaii

and the Fiji Islands and Tahiti.

I'm gonna take six months off and I'm...

You okay?

I know you cared a great deal about Margo.

She didn't have anyone. Not anyone.

Are you talking about Margo or yourself?

What a joke we must've been.

A couple of aging beach bunnies.

Why are you putting yourself down?

You're one of the prettiest, nicest girls I ever met.

What do you know about me?

What did you know about Margo?

I know she liked herself

'cause she took good care of herself.

She wanted to live and it was taken away from her.

Nobody has the right to do that.

Excuse me.

Yeah.

I'm, uh...

No. No. I can't come down right now.

Because I...

It is?

All right. I'll be right there.

I'm sorry. But evidently it's so scary, I got to go.

It's all right. I understand.

It's the first time anybody has jumped ship

to get away from me. Are you kidding?

I'm flattered that you're here,

and if it wasn't really important...

No, no, no. You don't have to explain, I understand.

I... I... I know you're in a hurry.

So, here it is.

After I left you, I was thinking.

You know, before Margo moved in,

before she had her phone connected,

she would come over to my house and use mine

and pay me whatever she owed me.

Most of the calls were nothin' calls,

but some of them, the ones to New York,

were real monsters,

like... like $50, $70, $80.

Do you have the New York number?

Thought you might ask.

Do you have any idea who it belongs to?

No, not a clue.

Did I do good?

Do good?

You did fabulous.

Hey.

Drop around sometime, okay?

I'm... I'm sorry.

I can be back in nothing flat.

That's about the closest we get in my repertoire.

How close are we?

About like my sex life and Joe Namath's.

You call that close?

It's a spirochete.

Could be any one of a couple dozen aerobic leptospira.

Leptospira?

That's connected to Weil's disease?

Rats used to get that, transmit it to sewer workers.

It's in that genus, all right.

But if Weil's were that busy or that hungry,

we'd be walking an empty planet.

No, what we're looking at is some kind of hybrid.

Come on, Marv, say it out loud, will you?

Well, the woman. Uh, liver failure, huh?

We think so.

Hungry little buggers.

Who can I show it to who would know?

Oh, if it's okay with you, I'd like to run with it.

I can shotgun cultures to the Public Health Service,

CSCD in Washington.

Sure, go ahead.

Come on. Level with me.

Are we talking epidemic?

I wouldn't panic, yet.

But a couple of cc's of this...

Quince, it's 9:00 in New York.

Remember, you wanted to make that call.

Excuse me, Marv.

Arthur Ellis Agency. Good morning.

Uh, can you hold on a sec while I turn on the coffee?

Hello?

Did you get the coffee turned on?

Yes, sorry you had to hold.

That's all right. This is Dr. Quincy.

I'm calling on behalf of Margo Bentley.

Yes, Doctor. How can I help you?

Oh, wait a minute. Doggone it.

Listen, she gave me a dozen messages

and a dozen phone numbers

and believe it or not,

I can't even read my own writing.

You're a doctor, all right.

Listen, do me a favor, will you?

Tell me exactly what the Arthur Ellis Agency is,

then maybe I can decipher what I've got written here.

We're a literary agency.

Mr. Ellis was representing Miss Bentley, before, uh...

Was representing?

Mr. Ellis died.

When?

Two days ago.

Oh, my very deepest condolences.

Thank you.

I guess they were very close.

She was writing her first book,

so, naturally Mr. Ellis was very supportive.

What happened?

He died suddenly.

Cirrhosis.

Do you happen to know if he had a history

of liver disorder?

No. Not that I know of.

One more thing.

What's going to be the manner of disposition?

Excuse me?

Mr. Ellis' remains.

Oh. uh, cremation. He wanted it that way.

Cremation.

So I believe there's reasonable cause

to investigate.

Quincy, have you noticed what's occurring here?

That disturbance in the atmosphere.

That happens to be sniper shots.

And that to me is a much more pressing

and reasonable cause to investigate.

Lucket, get some gas up there.

Didn't you hear what I said?

We got a body now. A guy named Ellis.

He was her literary agent.

Now, get your autopsy report in order,

and I'll proceed from there.

I haven't done an autopsy.

I won't be able to do one by 5:00 tomorrow.

The body's gonna be in ashes.

So, go do it.

We will be using gas unless you surrender.

Monahan, I don't have jurisdiction.

I don't have cooperation.

The only way I can touch the body

is if you call the cops in Stonyshore, Long Island,

and tell 'em to delay the funeral.

I want you to put on the brakes long enough

to have somebody jump in and take hepatic sections.

All right, Quincy, I suppose you want me to drop everything

and get on it right away?

That would be a big help.

All right, Quincy. Let me confer with the sniper.

If he says it's okay to knock off

for an hour or two to go downtown and do...

All you have to do is use the phone in your car.

Lucket! Lucket!

Get this civilian out of here.

If he resists, you book him and lose his sheet, you understand?

Monahan.

Get out of here!

You've got it right, Doctor.

I'm the Coroner for Stonyshore County.

Oh, good.

We've got a troublesome case on our hands, Doctor.

We have reason to believe

it may be linked to the death of Arthur Ellis.

Now, as I understand it, Mr. Ellis died at his home,

which puts him in your jurisdiction, fortunately.

Yes, he died in my parish, all right.

Oh, I warned Arthur.

What he was doing was plainly courting death.

You warned him? You knew?

Of course, I knew.

I treated the man. Three packs of cigarettes a day,

drinking martinis by the brace.

It didn't take 2 Jonas Salk to tell where he was headed.

Well, you did autopsy him?

I autopsied him. Well, I wandered in,

took one look at the condition of his liver.

Never seen anything like it.

Inflamed, eh? I assume you took a section?

What for? I could tell what killed the man.

That's just it. You can't.

Now you hold on, Doctor.

I've been looking at cirrhotic livers

for over 35 years of medical practice.

Doctor...

I could tell a cirrhosis in a dark room.

Doctor, listen, no disrespect meant.

But you're not a trained pathologist,

and I'm talking about an obscure hepatic bacillus.

Now, its symptoms may be cirrhotic,

but it's a bacteria

and it is a deadly bacteria,

and we haven't been able to identify it.

Look, that's why I would appreciate it if you would delay

Arthur Ellis' cremation and funeral

until I can get a pathologist out there

to do a post on him.

Will you do that for me, please?

An outside pathologist? Who?

Somebody from New York City?

Oh, anyone close who knows his field, you know.

I see. Some 29-year-old morgue attendant

who's going to show a simple country doctor

which muscle pumps blood.

A lousy liver section. It's our only chance!

Doctor, I believe we're confronting a double homicide.

Then the police would know, wouldn't they?

Not until you tell 'em.

Haven't you got that backwards?

You tell your police, they tell our police,

and then they tell me.

Not if you knew what you were doing!

Oh, Doctor, I didn't mean to yell, I'm sorry, okay?

Look, how about a delay of funeral

and an autopsy just out of professional courtesy?

Well, well, well, well,

I'd say you had a busy night and morning, Doctor.

No, you have already managed to malign a County Coroner?

Our police homicide liaison?

And me?

I maligned you?

Stretch your memory, Doctor.

It's because of your revolving door bookwork

that we lost that woman.

Well, it's because of your obstinate meddling

in police department work

that we have alienated the County Coroner

of Stonyshore, Long Island!

Oh, heavens! Say it isn't so.

We've alienated Dr. Jonathan Waterman,

the Werner von Braun of Stonyshore, Long Island?

Quick, Sam, grab the thumbscrews.

I think I've singed the furs of another quack.

Meaning?

Meaning all you have to do is

pick up that telephone and say "possible homicide."

Why don't you call one of your association buddies,

one of your lodge or convention buddies.

You've schmoozed it up with every county medical examiner

all over the country.

Do me a favor. Call the guy in New York.

You know what his name is.

Tishman.

Tishman, yeah, that's right. Why don't you call him?

And tell him what?

Though we have no body, we'd like to play detective?

How many times do I say it? We have a body!

No. No. No.

No. No. No.

It isn't our body. It's Stonyshore's body.

Yeah.

And Stonyshore's County Coroner,

who also happens to have been Mr. Ellis' private physician,

sees no reasonable reason to oblige you.

Quincy, it's wound up, you're licked.

Now will you just... Come on, take it like a man.

You hear that, Sam? A double homicide

and he's talking sportsmanship.

Philosophically speaking, this whole situation stinks.

Speaking of speaking,

Doctor, you know you are due in Buffalo tomorrow.

I have your tickets in my office.

I will not accept anything

but your assurance that you'll be on the plane.

Okay, okay, you win, Astin.

That's odd. Because I expected a last-ditch paroxysm

of kicking, screaming...

Sportsmanship, remember?

Win or lose, I always play fair.

You are gonna be on the airplane?

Of course.

Your word of honor that you will be on the airplane?

My word of honor.

All of it?

My word of honor I will be on the airplane, sir.

Come on, Sam, help me pack, will you?

I don't know how to pack.

Who's talking about clothes?

I want the largest microscope I can find

and a complete section kit.

These are great for anxiety. I'd say from these alone

that you have one crackerjack internist.

Uh, would you like some coffee?

No, thanks. I had a lot on the plane.

Well, that does make one sort of think.

I mean, if Mr. Ellis had been taking these pills

to relax instead of all that drinking...

Oh, that reminds me.

You said something on the phone

about Mr. Ellis leaving instructions

as to his disposition.

His cremation. How was that done?

Well, he left a letter in his desk.

Wow.

Now, you have to admire

that kind of forethought in a person

who wasn't even expecting to die.

I bet he was an organized man.

Uh, well, I don't want to speak ”I of the dead,

but he was messy.

No kiddin'.

Mmm-hmm. I mean, it came as a real surprise to me,

especially since it was typewritten.

Why would that surprise you?

Well, Mr. Ellis almost never typed,

and when he did, it was a... It was a mess.

And this was a real neat letter, huh?

Immaculate.

It'd take days to get an analysis out of that.

I beg your pardon?

Oh, I was thinking of the widow, Mrs. Ellis.

I was wondering whether to call her up there.

What with the grief, the people, the receiving at home.

Sometimes they need things from downtown and they forget them.

Doctor, I must say,

you're uncommonly nice for a doctor.

Thank you.

I think I better take the call in private.

Those flowers are just divine.

Just follow me and I'll show you where they go.

What's this?

No, not that, that's too much. Too much.

Oh, what about over here?

By the drapes.

Be careful you don't spill any water on the carpet. All right?

Lovely. Just lovely.

Beatrice, where are you, for heaven's sakes?

Mrs. Ellis,

this is Dr. Quincy, Coroner's Office.

I'd like to offer my condolences.

Well, thank you very much.

Everyone has been most kind

and generous throughout our ordeal.

Well, Mrs. Ellis, there were some tests

taken on your late husband,

and we're having difficulty

understanding some things we're finding.

From a public health standpoint,

we feel it's necessary to delay the funeral

until, well, tomorrow when we'll know more, see?

Delay the funeral?

Are you out of your mind?

People, people who matter are driving in

from every corner of New England

to pay their final respects to a publishing giant.

Uh, Mrs. Ellis, I'm keeping this as unofficial as possible,

you understand that?

Listen, Arthur's cremation is an integral part

of the service and it's going ahead.

Mrs. Ellis, I don't want to use

the muscle of my office, but...

Mrs. Ellis? Mrs. Ellis?

Mrs. Ellis?

Eve, why is there a light on, on Mr. Ellis' line?

The doctor's using it. That's all right, isn't it?

Well, well, well, well.

For a real estate person, you cover a big territory.

Oh, what's your name this time? Deetweiller?

Detweiller,

Dr. Quincy.

Well, I see your connection with Margo Bentley

was her book.

You went out to the beach that day

to see if she left anything for you to scrounge up.

And you are a medical examiner?

It's pretty hard to overlook a Coroner's station wagon

parked on Old Malibu Road.

She's dead, isn't she?

Yes.

Both she and Arthur Ellis died of the same thing,

induced liver arrest.

That's double murder and conspiracy.

Why?

Well, obviously there's something

so damaging in that book

people are willing to kill to conceal it.

And I want to see it.

There is no manuscript!

Margo wrote two very rough chapters

and an outline, but the copies are all gone.

I don't believe you.

I think you know what's in both those chapters.

I don't know what your angle is,

but think about this.

If they were willing to kill Arthur Ellis and Margo Bentley,

what makes you think they won't kill you?

Because I don't know anything.

I never read word one.

She was Arthur's special client,

and I always respected his interests.

Now, go back to Los Angeles, Quincy.

You're not wanted here.

Why not? What's in stake for you?

Nothing.

You're so cute. How come I don't believe you?

Let me tell you something.

If you're both ends against the middle,

if you're lying to me

and you're telling somebody you have something you don't have,

I promise you,

you're going to end up like Arthur Ellis or Margo Bentley.

Now, please.

Mr. Castle's here to see you.

Oh.

Mr. Castle.

Miss Detweiller.

Are we, uh, ready for lunch?

Yes.

As I was saying, it's, uh...

It's all round the bend, isn't it?

Arthur Ellis is dead.

You have no idea of the whereabouts

of Margo Bentley.

And there's

no trace of the manuscript.

I can't explain where the New York file copy went.

I just haven't found it, yet.

That hardly means that it's gone.

Ms. Detweiller, as Arthur's London publisher,

we have already invested too much

not to still be awfully keen on this project.

Our readership simply dotes on any exposé of Hollywood

or the international sets.

Assuming you don't find the manuscript,

I'm listening.

Am I wrong in assuming you alone, then,

know the contents of the manuscript?

Arthur and I were, uh,

extremely close.

Miss Detweiller,

we are prepared to pay a lot to anyone

who could do what would amount to a,

call it a re-creation.

Are you interested?

There is some interest on my part, yes.

Yes?

I just had lunch with her.

She said she read the manuscript.

A“ of it?

Enough to feel very sure of herself.

All right, then, she's gotta go. At least, uh,

at least she's the last of it, huh.

Maybe, maybe not.

That medical examiner from Los Angeles, Quincy,

is here.

He was leaving her office when I came in,

All right, then we've got to fix 'em both.

Yeah.

I'll need your help.

Just leave the car here.

You.

Me?

What in blue blazes do you think you're doing?

How did you get in here?

Well, the important thing is that I am in here.

Isn't that the important thing?

Dr. Quincy,

City of Los Angeles Coroner's Office,

on special assignment

with the Senate Investigating Committee on Mortuary Practices.

The what?

You heard me.

Oh, I know the tricks you mortuary people play.

You got a cremation, you try to cut corners,

you try to save money on the material and labor.

What's the difference,

it's all gonna go up in smoke, is that right, sir?

We Felsenfields

have been servicing this community for 111 years.

Never once...

All right, all right, who put you up to this?

That cut-rate disposal service,

Sleepy Hollow?

Oh. The community has seen need

to patronize a competitor.

What do they know that I don't know, sir?

This is outrageous. What do you want from me?

I want the same thing

the United States Senate wants.

A chance to check your work.

To see that the bereaved aren't being shot through.

Do you, uh, do you have to do this now?

We either do it now or wait for the resurrection

or do you have something to hide?

All right. All right, Doctor.

If you want to play rough.

I presume you have the proper facilities here?

The best.

My equipment's in the car.

Right.

Mrs. Ellis, my deepest sympathies.

Oh, thank you, you're so kind.

What do you think you're doing?

Red roses and rust Chrysanthemums?

Are you color blind?

♪ J'

And those carnations... Ah, good Lord.

This is a funeral, not a fruit salad.

And Arthur should...

Where's the coffin?

Arthur! Stop that. What are you doing?

Uh, it's beyond our control, Mrs. Ellis.

Federal intervention.

This is Arthur's funeral.

Arthur is part of the service.

May I speak with her? Would you take it down?

Mrs. Ellis, please calm down, 20 minutes is all it'll take.

The tests I spoke to you about on the phone?

You? Yes.

Oh. Oh!

Oh, what... what... what kind of a twisted human being are you?

What kind of a... a deranged mind

does this to a perfectly coordinated affair?

Your husband had insurance, right?

Two little words: double indemnity.

Let’s look on the bright side of this, Mrs. Ellis.

There's a good chance your husband was murdered.

Doctor, aren't you carrying this to extremes?

The vital organs tell it all, Mr. Felsenfield.

They tell it all.

This is it.

Bingo.

That's it.

Operator, give me Los Angeles, California, collect.

Yeah. This is a medical emergency.

Excuse me.

Hey, I certainly hope

that Arthur can join us sometime today.

No cause for alarm, darling.

Hello, Sam?

Quincy, we've been calling you all over the East Coast.

Wait a minute, I'll get Babitch on the phone.

Quince?

Yeah, Marv?

We've got it ID'd. Leptospyrosis,

developed by the military for germ warfare.

Marv, that's impossible.

That stuff was outlawed, it was destroyed.

Unless somebody boosted a sample.

Let me tell you about this bacillus, Quince.

A dozen years ago, at a government testing station in Utah,

some of this stuff got loose in the wind.

It killed cattle, sheep,

the mere suggestion of it kills on contact.

Tell him the symptoms. Oh, yeah.

Liver inflammation, dysfunction, and arrest.

Of course.

You get a liver arrest, you assume it's alcohol.

Listen, I just did a section on Arthur Ellis.

What we had to incubate from Margo's blood

was visible here at first glance.

That ties it. Where's Astin?

He's on the phone with the cops, Quince.

He's got the Army,

the Public Health Service, inside of his office

looks like a marching band.

What's our next move?

I don't know. There's an old lady here

who's being very foolish with her life.

Felsenfield, what's going on here? Shh.

Your next move is to get those section slides down

to the New York City Coroner, but fast.

I'll call on ahead and have everything set up.

Who's that? Quincy.

What's the name again? Quincy.

Quincy? He's Quincy?

Uh, Sam, I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye-bye.

Mr. Felsenfisenfield.

Felsenfield. Field. Feld.

Field. That is a homicide out there.

Now, you make sure that Arthur Ellis

is not removed, you understand?

How do you do, Dr. Waterman.

And, listen,

uh, about my equipment, I'll send a messenger for it.

Homicide?

What's homicide got to do

with the Senate Investigating Committee?

He told you he's a Senate investigator?

Yes.

He's a Senate investigator like I'm the President.

Let's get out of here.

Hey, Doctor?

Uh, is it or isn't it?

Is it what?

It is. Let's go.

Come on.

Wait a minute.

I'm telling you about a double murder:

Margo Bentley and Arthur Ellis.

Cause of death, a bacillus.

Developed by the military for bacteriological warfare

and thought to be extinct.

Military?

That's right, one measly grain of the stuff

on your powder puff is gonna make you number three.

Now let's get out of here.

I'm glad I was able to convince you

of the danger of the situation. Mr. Castle.

Miss Detweiller. I was just going in to pay

my final respects to Mr. Ellis.

This is, uh, Mr. Castle, Arthur's London publisher.

This is Dr. Quincy.

Doctor.

He's a medical examiner from Los Angeles.

I think we'd better listen to what he has to say.

Certainly. What is it, Doctor?

Well, I think you both may be victims

of a conspiracy to kill everyone

connected with the book that Margo was writing.

Well, you can't be serious.

I'm deadly serious, Mr. Castle.

Murder?

Dr. Quincy thinks that they used

some sort of germ warfare substance.

You know, I can't believe that.

Margo described them as perfectly charming gentlemen.

Described who?

The two military men.

You know, I-I'm really scared.

It isn't making me feel too secure, either.

They're setting up the equipment for these

in the New York City Coroner's Office.

Why don't we go down there

and put ourselves into police custody.

But the funeral?

Oh, there's no time, sir.

Well, can you drop me at the Stonyshore Airport?

Airport?

Well, I was late.

I had to charter a plane from the city.

Sure, come on. Let’s go. Quick.

I appreciate the lift.

Well, we're all in this together.

Miss Detweiller, the two military men you mentioned,

uh, what did Margo say about them?

She called them her "fair-haired pair."

Military intelligence officers.

They were living like kings in Mexico.

And Margo was the queen of the ball.

She knew a couple of the syndicate boys.

She put them together, and after that

they had it made.

The military boys traveled in the top secret world

so that nobody could question anything that they did.

While the border people were out busting penny-ante pushers,

they sashayed across

carrying pounds of cocaine, heroin, name it.

And you thought you were making a deal to do what?

Rewrite the book from what Margo started?

Yes.

Stealing germ warfare cultures.

They must be lunatics.

Maybe, but I can't stop thinking

of all those books we could have sold.

We would have made millions.

Well, easily.

I must say I'm more preoccupied with not dying

from that hideous-sounding bacillus.

There's no way I should have known

it was bacillus, is there?

No, not unless you were the one who used it.

Where's your partner?

Waiting for us at the airport.

You killed Margo, and, uh, and Mr. Ellis, didn't you?

A matter of survival, Miss Detweiller.

We never expected Margo to become so greedy

as to risk exposing herself as well as us.

The airport road is just ahead, Doctor.

That's it over there.

What are you going to do?

When we're flying over the water, Miss Detweiller,

we'll think of something.

Pull up.

Everybody out.

Go this way, please.

Okay, Fredricks, it's all over.

You're finished.

You seem to forget, Doctor, I've the gun.

Lot of good that's gonna do you, or your partner.

That's a police copter.

What are you talking about?

Do you think I'd get in a car with a killer

and let you drive Lynn and me out here,

so you and your friend can deep six us?

Quincy, you didn't know who I was at the time.

Oh, I didn't, huh?

I didn't? Tell him, Lynn.

Go ahead, tell him.

Go on, tell him.

Uh, um...

Do you think I should?

Sure, tell him what you told me

about the two military guys.

How easy it was to check who was down in Mexico

with Margo at the time.

Just wanted to make sure it was you and him.

That copter's been following us

since the mortuary.

Nice try, Quincy.

Get in the plane. Come on, move.

Okay, we have them east on the runway.

Let's move in.

Everybody out of the plane with their hands up.

There's Quincy.

Hey, you guys really were following me.

Oh, Felsenfield, am I glad to see you.

That's the imposter.

What imposter?

I really am a medical examiner for the city of Los Angeles.

Sure, sure, and a special Senate investigator.

He's a grave robber.

He's the killer. He and the pilot.

Well, uh, there he goes again.

We've never seen them, either.

They brought us under gunpoint.

It's true.

All right, you're all under arrest.

No, I can't be under arrest,

I gotta give a lecture in Buffalo.

Buffalo? Not today, you're not.

No Buffalo? No lecture? Promise?