All language subtitles for Kolchak.The.Night.Stalker.S01E11.Horror.In.The.Heights.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_track3_eng

♪♪ [ Whistling ]

[ Kolchak Narrating ] There are sections of Chicago the guidebooks don't refer to.

You can't blame them, really. The guidebooks' function...

is to sell the glamour
and excitement
of our Windy City.

And whichever way you dress it up, old age is neither glamorous nor exciting.

Roosevelt Heights used to be a plush neighborhood.

But the plush neighbors
moved uptown,
leaving the old people.

And old people
don't move easily.

They become set in their surroundings. Their friends live next door.

They've been going to
the same store
for 25 years.

And, probably
most important of all,

they can't afford to relocate even if they wanted to.

The battle of fixed income
versus galloping inflation
never ends.

But even inflation
took a backseat here
in Roosevelt Heights...

as a far greater fear
overtook the residents--

a terror which effectively
dwarfed everything else.

October 14, one Harry Starman was about to break the law.

He'd done it before
many times.

Gambling on Friday night
was forbidden
by Hebrew law.

So, to escape his wife
and to escape
going to temple,

Harry and his cohorts
took drastic measures.

There were other residents
of Roosevelt Heights.

The locals had tried
to get rid of them
a couple of times,

but what with the fact
that the garbage
collection...

wasn't as efficient
as it could have been,

they just hadn't been
too successful.

- [ Man ]
Do you mind if I cut?
- [ Man #2 ] Cut! Cut, cut.

What am I, a cheat?

- You're late.
- What's with the late?

I stopped to get this.

They raised
the prices again.
You each owe me 50 cents.

Uh-uh. You still
haven't paid for the bottle
I bought last week.

- I paid you!
- You did not!

Jo, I leave it to you.
You were there.
I paid you, I'm tellin' you!

Are we gonna play poker,
or are we gonna schmooze?

Penny ante, penny raises.

Good. But I paid him.
No matter what he--
what he--

- Where's the glasses?
- Glasses, glasses.

Did you ever get 'em? No.
I always have to get 'em.

And you did not pay me for
last week and don't stack
the deck while I'm out.

Silly old--
If it wasn't his table,
I wouldn't be found dead here.

I hate to go out there!
The bacon and ham hocks,
pigs' knuckles.

So who told you
to take this job anyway?

Then tell a lie so
you wouldn't lose anything
on social security.

- You know it.
You know him.
- Ante up.

Ah, ah, ah! Ante up.

Hey, did I ever tell you
about the time I played
with Nick the Greek?

- You did, Harry. You did.
- It was in Las Vegas.

It was a pleasure to lose
to him. He could bluff you
without flinching an eyelash.

He was an artist.

[ Kolchak Narrating ] Buck Fineman, 72 years old.

A cantankerous old geezer.
No one liked him much,

but they allowed him
to play poker
with them once a week...

because he was a terrible cardplayer and had been known to lose...

as much as 75 cents
in a single evening.

Also his part-time job
allowed their group
a safe hiding place...

for their clandestine
games of chance.

For Buck's case,
this particular night,
it was too clandestine.

Who's there?

It looks like, uh-- Hey, Rabbi Schulman. What are you doing out here?

Now, no matter
what terrible stories
my wife told you,

it's still
only a penny ante game.

Wrong, I know,
but it's only penny ante.

[ Roaring ]

[ Tires Screeching ]

[ Kolchak Narrating ]
Normally, an old guy
dropping dead...

wouldn't get me
to cross the road.

But things were pretty quiet that week, and there was something in the report...

that I'd picked up over my police radio that didn't sound strictly kosher.

[ Voices Overlapping ]

Please, one at a--
One at a time.

Why should we have to live
with such tsures?

I'm sorry, but
I don't understand Yiddish.

- Tsures!
- Grief, unhappiness.
Don't you understand?

[ Muttering ]

All right, what happened?

Old guy croaked.

Well, we have
a nice choice of words.

You expect to escape
old age?

- Okay,
an old guy passed on.
- Passed on.

- What'd he pass on of?
- Who knows?

- Old age? Boredom?
- "Old age.

Boredom."

- Uh--
- Wait, wait. Who are you?

- Press.
- I wouldn't if I were you.

Son, I've seen
more dead bodies than
you've had TV dinners.

Oh, yeah.
Old age and boredom.

How'd it happen?

Well, apart from the old people,
the other tenants
in this area are rats,

and rats do get hungry.

- "Rats."
- Anything else
you wanna know?

- No.
- Okay, then you
take care, okay?

If only we didn't
send him out
for the glasses.

I really liked him.

- He was a nice guy.
- Look, did any of you gentlemen
here know the deceased?

- Sure, I knew him.
- What was his name?

Fineman.
Buck Fineman.

[ Man #2 ]
His real name was Julius.

Buck, he got
from the movies.

He loved movies.

- Hey, are you a reporter?
- Mm-hmm.

Then how about reporting,
for instance, how come
the Health Department...

won't get their cans
down here and clear out
the rats?

It's not only here.
You should see my apartment
building around the back.

Health Department.
Usen't you work for
the Health Department?

- Me?
- Yeah.

No, no, that was my brother.

No, he was in charge of
printing up
quarantine signs.

- That was a long time ago.
- What about the rats?

Well, we all have rats, sir.
You should see the one
I work for.

I'm talking about rats
that eat you before you can
get a decent Jewish burial.

Uh-huh. Well,
you may have
a point there, Mr., uh--

- Uh, sir, your name?
- Who, me?

- Yeah.
- Starman.

- Starman.
- Harry Star--
You're writing this?

- Yes.
- Starman. S-T-A-R.

- One "R."
- One "R"?

- One "R," yes.
- "Starman."

You know, I understand
we've all got problems,
and we gotta handle 'em.

Okay, I understand that.
But, on top of
all of that, rats--

rats that chew you up
before you even get cold?

- Well, how long was he dead?
- Well, you see,
we were playing poker.

I brought some wine.
He went to get some glasses.

About a half hour later,
we went to look for him.

And that's when
we found him.
Right, fellas?

- Right, right.
- "One half hour."

A half hour.

What do the police say?

Nothing.
Well, nothing official.

Unofficial?

Well, it had to be longer
than half an hour
for Fineman to be devoured.

That the old guys made
a mistake,
and they're getting senile.

Well, it is
an old people's
neighborhood.

Old doesn't have to be
synonymous with senility,
Tony. How old are you?

Just imagine. There's
all these old people...

hanging on to whatever
they've got left
out of living...

in this-this ghetto with flesh-eating rats breeding all around them like-like rats.

All right, all right.
Here. Put it on the wire.

But take out
that bleeding heart stuff.

Bleeding hearts? Me?
Where?

Oh, yes. "The tragic death
of Julius Fineman, age 72."
"Tragic" offends you, huh?

Just make it,
"The death of
Julius Fineman, age 72."

We don't wanna imply that
we're tossing brickbats
at the Sanitation Department...

for malfeasance
or anything like that.

-You're a real crusader, Tony.
-Listen, you've got a good angle
there. Just get more of it.

You get some damning facts,
and I'll go with you
all the way.

We'll slam anyone
who's responsible.

Really?
You're gonna throw
a few brickbats, are you?

Or is that, uh, too rough?
Maybe we can just pelt 'em
with some wet biscuits.

- [ Sighs ]
- Here, maybe
you better sign this.

- What is it?
- Just sign it, Tony.

- I gave Harry a few bucks.
- What for?

Come on, Tony.
Just sign it, will you?
It won't do you any harm.

Apart from a pension,
he's got nothing.

- Thanks very much, Tony.
- [ Sighs ]

You're Richard the Lionhearted,
Patrick Henry and St. Teresa...

all stuffed into one, big,
pin-striped suit.

Manny, send up
a corned beef sandwich lean
and a bottle of cream soda.

And fresh pickles this time.

Well, you're working late
tonight, Miss Emily.

I'm helping out
with the advice column.

All these poor people,
such problems.

Look at this.

[ Muttering ]

[ Chuckles ]
All those women
hanging around him.

I should have
such a problem.
What are you gonna tell him?

Well, I'd hoped you'd
come up with a suggestion.

Me?
[ Chuckles ]

Okay. You tell him...

to get his doctor
to prescribe a massive course
of hormone treatments.

- And, him, 73 years old.
- Is this your story?

- Yeah, uh-huh.
- Well, may I read it?

Yeah, sure.
It's not gonna help you
with that stuff though.

Well, I'll let you in
on a little secret.

I just took this job
as a stepping-stone
to what I really want to do.

Which is what?

I'm writing a novel.
A detective novel.

Well, good for you.

I needed experience
of life.

I was becoming insulated
in that little
place of mine.

And, anyway, down here,
I get to use
the typewriters,

and the paper's free.

Well, that's
a very good attitude
for a professional writer.

- [ Kiss ] Madam Emily.
- Good night.

When you're finished with that,
give that to Martha
to put on the wire.

[ Kolchak ] If Vincenzo was going to give me a feature series on Roosevelt Heights,

I'd need more background--
lots more.

But, right now, I'd had
enough. I was tired,
and I wanted to go home.

Maybe if I'd done my job properly and gone back to Roosevelt Heights that evening,

the Goldsteins
would still be alive.

I didn't understand it.

- What?
- The movie.

What's to understand
movies nowadays?

They take their clothes off.
That's all that matters.

Jeanette MacDonald
and Nelson Eddy, they never
took their clothes off.

[ Chuckles ]
Neither did we, really.

Never left
the lights on either.

Now that
I come to think of it,
what would it have hurt?

- Come on, Miriam.
- Well, what would it
have hurt?

All that running in and out
of the bathroom,
puttin' on our pajamas.

All that ceremony.

Oh, Sol.

What were we so ashamed of?

Come on, Miriam.

Sol, where are you going?

- I'm takin' the shortcut.
- I don't want to.

What's with "I don't want to"?
We always take the shortcut
through the alley.

No, that was before
Mr. Fineman died.

So what is that
supposed to mean?

Buck Fineman
is gonna pounce on you
fresh from the grave?

You know
what I'm talking about.

Mr. Fineman--
God rest his soul--
he didn't just die.

He was killed by
the same wicked person...

that's doing that
all over the neighborhood.

Those are just kids, Miriam.

Just kids. Kids don't
go around killing people.

All right, Mr. Wise Guy.
So what did kill
Mr. Fineman?

He died. He was pushing 80.
He was entitled.

- I am not gonna
take the shortcut.
- Okay.

So the cocoa will be ready
on the stove
when you come home.

Sol?

You're a stubborn man,
Sol Goldstein.

My feet hurt.

Ah.

[ Clattering ]

[ Scoffs ]
It's nothin'. Come on.
Come on. Come on.

[ Sighs ]
Don't worry.

- [ Cat Screeches ]
- [ Gasps ]

Come on.

[ Chuckling ]

Good evening, Officer.

Sol, I was so silly.

- [ Roaring ]
- [ Both Screaming ]

[ Kolchak Narrating ] Someone called in the middle of the night...

to let me know
what had happened,
more or less.

I say more or less because that someone was too hysterical to make much sense.

But the little
that I could glean made it
hard for me to sleep.

Who croaked this time?

Beat it. I'm busy.

Just a name. Come on.

- Goldstein, Mr. and Mrs.
- Mr. and Mrs.

Chewed up
like the rest of 'em?

I'm not a quiz show host.
For one thing, they make
better money than I do.

Better jokes too.

- Mr. Kolchak?
- Hi, Mr. Starman.

- Why aren't you home in bed?
- Who can sleep
in an atmosphere like this?

- Listen, Mr. Kolchak,
I know who did it.
- Yeah, sure.

Please, Mr. Kolchak, listen.
I'm tellin' ya.
I know who did it.

Mr. Starman, would you
do me a favor?
You're right in my picture.

But you don't understand.
I'm the one who called you.

- You what?
- I called you.

Why didn't you
identify yourself?

Didn't I?

Come on, Mr. Starman.
Let's have a talk.

[ Harry ]
He lives there.
It's his restaurant.

- Who?
- The man who murdered
the Goldsteins.

- The Hindu.
- Why would he wanna
kill the Goldsteins?

He's a Nazi, that's why.

Harry, excuse me,
but you usually don't find
Hindu Nazis in any great number.

Look, the Goldsteins
were Jewish, right?

Yeah, well, this is
a Jewish neighborhood,
Harry.

Sure, it is. That's why
he chalks up those swastikas
all over the place.

Well, how do you know
it's him, Harry?

Look, he moved in here
a couple of months ago...

just after the rats
chewed up
old Mrs. Reznik.

And that's when
the swastikas
started to appear.

I mean, Mr. Kolchak,

what sort of a nut
opens an Indian restaurant
in a Jewish neighborhood?

Me, personally, I'm not
too crazy about kosher
chutney. Do you mind?

Yeah, well,
you got a point there.

Sure, he's up to
something bad.
I saw him the other night.

He was painting swastikas
all over the door
and fence...

back where he lives
in back of the restaurant.

I'm tellin' ya.
He's as crazy as a bedbug.

- He is?
- Who are we talkin' about?

All right, Harry,
let's go see.

- So? So? So?
- You'll see. You'll see.

- Yeah?
- Huh?

- Well?
- Here?

Yeah?

Okay.

- Huh? Was I right,
or was I right?
- You was right.

- You wanna join me?
- Are you kiddin'?

I can barely
climb the stairs,
let alone a fence.

I'll wait here.

Keep your eyes peeled, huh?

Hey, Mr. Kolchak,
how'd you get around there?

I'm not around there.
I'm around here.

- Mr. Kolchak! [ Screams ]
- [ Roaring ]

Rakshasa!

[ Tires Screeching ]

[ Car Doors Opening, Closing ]

- Well, am I glad
to see you guys.
- I'll bet you are.

Okay, Kolchak,
let's have it one more time.

Okay, this will be the fifth
"one more time."

- Oh? You got nothin'
better to do, have ya?
- You're kiddin'?

Now, you and Harry
climbed over this fence,
right?

I went over,
Harry stayed outside.

- Why?
- Why what?

Why did Harry stay outside?

He was an old man.
His fence-climbing days
are over.

Maybe he was afraid of you.

Maybe you oughta have
your marbles examined.

Oh, boy.
I love a wise guy.

Okay, keep goin', Kolchak.

Well, let's see.
I dropped down
over the fence.

He was back there.
I moved out a little
and took a couple pictures.

And then
I heard him scream.
[ Screams ]

- What's going on here?
- Police business,
that's what.

Are you up to it again,
Prodman?

Weren't you reprimanded
for getting a little rough
a few years ago?

- Who, me?
- You all right, Carl?

He was just
giving testimony.
Tell him, Kolchak.

No, that's right, Tony.
No, just like
the officer says.

I'm surprised at you guys.

Surprised
and very disappointed.

- Hey, am I out, Tony?
- Yes, you're out.

Now, let's see here.

You are Prodman. And you're
a new face around here.
What's your name?

- Come on!
- What's your name?

- Thomas.
- Thomas.
Thank you very much.

[ Kolchak Narrating ]
Reading between the lines
of all the police hassling,

their message came through.

Poor Harry had died of natural causes, and then been stripped of his flesh by rats.

That theory had been passable in the case of Buck Fineman,

specious in the case
of the Goldsteins,

and, now, in the case
of Harry Starman,
just too hard to swallow.

After all,
I had been there.

I knew that Harry had been
devoured in the short time
it takes me...

to click off
a couple of snapshots.

Mr. Rivas?

Frank, you remember me?
Carl Kolchak, I.N.S.?

I.N.S.
You fumigated our offices
last January for roaches.

Oh, yes, I remember you.

You still leavin' those
half-eaten doughnuts and bagel
crumbs all over your desk?

Ain't much any exterminator
can do for you, you keep up
that kind of behavior.

- I don't eat bagels.
Vincenzo eats bagels.
- Oh, yes, you did.

Listen, is there somethin'
I can do to help ya?

-Quickly. I don't even have time
to break for lunch.
-Yeah, okay.

Now, your typical urban rat--
How long does it take
a pack of them...

to, uh, destroy
a good-sized
carcass of beef?

- I've worked in some of
your big packin' houses.
- Yeah.

Sometimes, a pack of brown rats
will strip a whole beef carcass
in 12 minutes flat.

- Twelve minutes.
- Then again, sometimes
the joke's on them.

They get caught
in the grindin' machinery.

Listen, you're getting spray
all over your sandwich.
Uh, poison?

Oh, what difference
does it make?

It's all loaded
with chemicals
and preservatives anyway.

Twelve minutes for a steer,
huh? How about one minute
for a human-sized carcass?

Oh, if they're deprived
of their normal food,
they can do wonders.

But one minute?

I think you're getting into
the piranha category.

It just don't seem feasible.

Thank you, and bon appétit.

♪♪ [ Indian Traditional ]

[ Indian Accent ]
Here you go, sahib.

- Mah-gum-bakh.
- Mah-gum--

Bakh.

- What is it?
- [ Drops Accent ]
Beef curry.

- Beef curry?
- Mm-hmm.

Well--

Yes, it looks like curry,
but I don't see much beef.

Well, it's not, uh, bad.

Wait'll it starts doing
the flaming sword dance
in your colon.

Shalom.

Sit down.

- You get many
customers in here?
- Are you kidding?

In this neighborhood,
if it's not chicken soup
and matzo balls, forget it.

Mm-hmm. That's what I heard.
That's strange, him opening
a place like this.

It's crazy.
But he's like that.

Let me tell you something.

I saw him talkin'
to one of these old
neighborhood guys, right?

You know what he asks?
He asks,

does the old guy ever see
any of his friends or relatives
hangin' around at night?

Well, the old guy tells him
all his friends
and relatives are dead.

So do you know
what the boss says?

The boss says,
it doesn't make any difference
if they're dead or not.

Does he see them?
Now, that's crazy, right?

Well-- Is he at home?

He's never home.
If you saw where he lived,
you wouldn't ask why.

Do you ever hear your boss talk
about something like "Rakoosha"
or "Rakaka" or "Raka-something"?

Uh-uh.

The only thing he's ever
talked to me about...

is to wash my hands
before I serve
the food to people.

- That's considerate.
- Why?
Why all the questions?

Well, I've only got
one more, really.
Where's the bathroom?

The curry's getting to you
already, huh?

- It's out back, sahib.
- Out back.

Thank you.

[ Sobbing ]

[ Speaking Foreign Language ]

Uh, Carl? Carl.

- Yeah?
- Carl, just recently, you were
making some big noises...

about a series on the plight
of the old folks down at
Roosevelt Heights.

- Uh-huh.
- I haven't seen
one written word about it yet.

Oh, I was doing it
tonight, Tony.

Something very weird
is going on. It's coming
together very oddly.

- You're dripping
on my desk.
- Oh, yes.

Well, look here. See?

Oh, that's a national disgrace,
a man that age having to
eke out a living as a busboy.

No, no, those are East Indian
clothes, Tony. He tried
to kill me with a crossbow.

- A crossbow?
- Yeah.

Look, this is where
he lives, see?

- See those swastikas
on the wall?
- Wait a minute. A crossbow?

Yeah, for cryin' out loud.
A crossbow.

Look, see there,
right in his hand?
It's kind of blurry,

but you can sort of
make it out if you squint
your eyes a little bit.

A crossbow and swastikas,
and he lives
in Roosevelt Heights?

Yeah, that's right.
Listen, I've been
doing a little reading.

Apparently, the Nazis
did not invent the swastika.
It's a Hindu sign.

It's very old,
used to ward off
evil spirits.

- Ward off evil spirits?
- That's right.

You know, in the year 1066,
the Saxons lost
the Battle of Hastings...

because their crossbows were
no match for the Norman longbows
in terms of range and accuracy.

In that way, two disparate
cultures were melded.

You know, Ron,
in your own quiet way,

you're--

Well, thank you.
Thank you very much, Ron.

His non sequiturs
are gonna drive me
into a state institution.

Tony, I heard this man say
something about a "bakusha"
or a "monaksha" or something.

Have you ever heard
of anything like that?

No, and I don't
really care, Carl.

- Uh-huh.
- I'm just gonna finish some
work, and then I'm going home.

Suddenly, I'm very tired.
You're dripping
on my desk again.

[ Sighs ]
Indians, swastikas,
Norman conquest.

Am I supposed to see
God's design in all this?

[ Kolchak Narrating ]
March 3, 12:15 a.m.

Officers York and Boxman,
12th Precinct,
making their normal rounds.

They'd been told to keep an extra lookout since the events of the past couple of days.

It would have been
better for them
if they hadn't.

Oh! What's the time?

It's only 2:30.

- It's gonna be
another long night.
- Mmm.

Well, let's roll.

[ York ]
What are you stoppin' for?

I thought I saw somebody
run into that alley.

- Where? Down there?
- Yeah.

- I don't see a thing.
- I could've sworn
I saw something.

All right, you win.
I'll take a look.

Tomorrow night,
I'mdriving all night long.

Okay.

Hey!

Hey, you, in there!

- What'd you see?
- There's somebody
creeping around in there.

Sergeant Da Vito. I thought
he was in the hospital.

- Mom?
- What did you say?

That's my mom out there.

What do you mean,
your mother?
That's Sergeant Da Vito.

[ Clattering ]

[ Growling ]

[ Mouthing Words ]

Sarge, just stay back.

Sarge, just stay back.
Don't come--
Don't come any closer.

Sarge,
don't come any closer!

[ Growling ]

[ Clicking ]

[ Man ]
This is one of
my most prized possessions.

I doubt seriously
you'll find...

a better third century
rendering of the goddess
Kali anywhere in the world.

I always like to say...

the third century is when
the cult of Kali flowered.

Cauliflower. Vegetable.

[ Dinging ]

Um, I'll be with you
straightaway.

[ Dinging Continues ]

[ Dinging Stops ]

[ Clattering ]

Excuse me, will you?
Feel free to browse.

Oh, Mr. Marriot-Lane.
My name is Carl Kolchak.
I'm with the I.N.S.,

and you, sir,
are the foremost expert
on East Indian arts.

And I have a few questions
for you.

It's Lane-Marriot,
not Marriot-Lane.

Yeah, certainly, certainly.
Now, let me see
what I can do...

about not putting the cart
before the ox.

Now, I'm trying to find out
something about a creature
named "Raka," "Rakashoshe,"

"Rakalaki," "Raka"--
something I didn't
hear too well.

There are a plethora
of Indian words beginning
with those syllables.

Well, this "Rak"
takes pleasure
in eating human flesh.

- You're talking about
the Rakshasa.
- That's it! That's it.

Well, that's all right. Don't
worry about me. I don't have
to be back at the office.

No, go on.
Give me the poop
about this Rakshasa.

Well, the Rakshasa
is the disciple of Ravana--

Ravana, whose deeds were so
horrible, he stopped the sun
and the moon in their course.

I had a date
with a girl in college
just like that once.

Mr. Kolchak,
I value my time.

If it's your intention merely
to be a music hall wag,
please state so.

No, no. I was just
trying to ease the tension,

and I noticed that you were
a man who appreciated
a good joke over there.

I mean, uh, cauliflower?

Well, yes, now and again.

Well, go on. Go on.

Well, a Rakshasa
is an evil spirit...

who can possess
a man's mind...

and delights
in the consumption
of human flesh.

Really?
Well, I had a run-in
with an old Indian.

Maybe he was a Pakistani,
I don't know. Anyway, he tried
to kill me with a crossbow.

Now, is it possible
that he's a Rakshasa?

Think, man! Think!
I just told you.

A Rakshasa
is a spirit, a myth.
They're not real.

However, a crossbow
is the method
prescribed in legend...

by which one may destroy
a Rakshasa...

with arrows blessed
by the divine Brahma
himself.

Well, then this old man
was trying to kill a Rakshasa,
or thought he was.

Why would he take
a shot at me?

The chap's actions
seem understandable
to me somehow.

You do enjoy a good joke.

So that's all
the Rakshasa are after,
huh?

Eating people?

After Ravana, their leader,
was killed,

the Rakshasa
lived on leaderless.

They drifted
into a timeless limbo...

where, according to legend,
they sent emissaries...

into the living world
to see if the time
is right--

to see if the time is right
for their reappearance
on the face of the Earth.

- When is that?
- [ Door Closes ]

When the world has slipped
to the edge of the abyss.

- Uh-huh.
- Mistrust, decadence.

- Mm-hmm.
- Moral decline.

I see!
In other words,

they might be getting
their marching orders
right now.

Now, you really
mustexcuse me.

Yes, yes.
Well, I'll just
hang around here.

Say, my boss might like this
as a paperweight.

How much you gettin'
for it?

$3,750.

Oh.
[ Chuckles ]

Well, come to think of it, he's
got a sentimental attachment
to the one he's got.

It's a little round ball
with a little
cottage inside.

You shake it up,
and snow falls on it.

Did-Did you ever see
Citizen Kane?

Yes! Yes.

Take a look at that
hanging over there.
You may find it of use.

Thank you.

Oh, yes.
I remember her well.

- Tony?
- Yeah?

- This is it, huh?
- Yeah, yeah.

The story that starts out
with the rodent problems of
the lower-income old folks,

and then generates
into this drivel
about some evil spirit...

that comes from New Delhi
and makes sandwiches
out of people?

It's a Hindu spirit.
It's got nothing to do
with New Delhi.

Who also appears
to his victims
as Carl Kolchak,

but actually looks like
Bongo the Chimp with fangs.

He only appeared
to Harry Starman as me,
Tony.

Why don't you read
the thing thoroughly?

The Rakshasa have
magical powers. They seduce
the victim to death...

by taking on
the image of someone
the victim trusts.

- And poor Harry Starman--
he trusted you?
- Well--

Obviously, he never had
to depend on you
to come up with a cogent story,

something that'll
turn a profit.

You gotta put this story
on the wire now!

If only one paper
picks it up and prints it,
some butchery may be prevented.

Put this on the wire?
Put myself up for ridicule?
Put myself on unemployment?

Well, think about it
a moment, Tony. Just think
about it. Consider the logic.

Before Harry died,
he called my name.
He thought he saw me.

Now, that young cop--
What's his name? York.
The scuttlebutt is--

- Scuttlebutt?
- The-The rumor is...

that he believes
he saw Sergeant Da Vito,

a guy who's been
a father figure
to him all his life.

And Da Vito
was on sick leave
because of a coronary.

Oh, he just wigged out
because he saw his partner
get hurt.

Well, what did happen to
his partner? Eaten by rats
while York stood by and watched?

Come on.
Listen, it's the way
the Rakshasa works.

He plucks images
from the brains of those
he wants to slaughter,

someone he knows
that they can trust.

Even if the papers
print it as a joke,

it might make sense
to some of those old people,
worry them into being careful.

Sure, it would make sense
to them. They're senile!

Just a minute!

You may be my employer,
but you're walking on eggs
when you talk that way, buster.

- [ Chuckles ]
- I'm sorry, but this is
a little too much.

Come on, Tony.
Will you do it?
Put it on the wire, will ya?

As far as I'm concerned,
it's bedtime for Bonzo!

Vincenzo, what--
Where are you going?

- That's none of your concern.
- Vincenzo, come back here!

Chicken.

That's where I get
all my stories.

All I've been able
to get out of him is that...

he's going to the doctor
for some shots.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, well,
I'd like to give him
a shot in the head.

That's what I'd like to do.

[ Groans ]

[ Man Moaning ]

[ Muttering
In Foreign Language ]

Great Brahma,
creator of all creatures,

to you I commend
my unworthy soul.

Sir? No, no, no.
Wait, wait.

I'm not the Rakshasa.
I'm the Kolchak.
Carl Kolchak.

Please. Please,
I wish to apologize
for last night.

I thought you were--

- The Rakshasa.
- Yes. I'm sorry.

I never thought
I would be old,
but look at me now.

My eyes don't serve me,
my hands betray me,

and my courage
is as shaky as my body.

That is why
I fired at you.

[ Moaning ]

You're very ill.
It looks like
you've got a fever.

Listen, I've got
a car outside. Let me
take you to the hospital.

No, no. I have to
remain here and try
to complete my task.

- Hunting the Rakshasa?
- Yes.

I am a servant of Brahma.
I must do my duty.

For 60 years now,
I have roamed the world...

seeking and destroying
the Rakshasa
wherever they appear.

- Have you ever gotten any?
- Oh, yes.

Yes, indeed. A few.

Sixty years?
How old are you?

I'm nearly 80.

But I'm afraid
I've destroyed
my last Rakshasa.

All I can hope for
is to pass on arrows
to another of my kind.

Here in Chicago?

To combat the Rakshasa,
one must be clear of mind.

But, most of all,
honest and brave.
Per-Perhaps you.

You'd best go home.

[ Sighs ]
You need a doctor.
I'll bring my car around.

No, no, no. Please, go home.
It's dangerous here for you.

The Rakshasa knows
I'm helpless.

I can sense him
lurking nearby,

waiting to strike...

like the spineless cowards
they all are.
[ Groans ]

Easy, Pop. Easy.
Now, I'll find a way
to take care of you.

Please, please, remove yourself from here.

And take these with you,
should you have to
defend yourself.

- Uh--
- Please.

- But, uh--
- No, take them.

They're blessed.
Don't let yourself
be fooled.

He will present himself to you
as someone you know and trust.

But you must shoot--
shoot--

or your flesh
will be ripped apart.

Well, I got
one problem, Pop.

There isn't anyone
that I trust.

Don't be fooled!

His power is that
he can find a person
and deceive you. Go home.

Don't come back.
You'll be ripped
as if by mad dogs.

[ Moaning ]

[ Creaking ]

Stop.
Don't you come nearer.

Emily?

Emily,
what are you doing here?

- You answer me.
- Well, I just
had to follow you.

You know all about
the haunts of criminals,

and I wanted to have
some real-life research
for my novel.

Well, I don't care
about your novel.

Now, if you don't
stop right there,
I'm gonna have to shoot you.

Oh, Carl!

I just wanted to experience
a case for myself.

Put down that bow.
You're scaring me.

Well, then you stop walking.

Carl--

Now, I mean it, Em--
Emily, I really mean it.

I'm frightened
down in this bad place.

Emily?

[ Roaring ]

[ Arrow Clatters To Ground ]

Geez.

I'd like to have told
Miss Emily that the Rakshasa
appeared to me as her.

According to the legend,
it meant that I trusted her.

But then I would have also
had to tell her that I shot
a steel arrow straight into her.

I don't think she would've
appreciated that.

But in the final analysis,
what's the difference?

As long as we all trust
each other, why should anyone's
feelings be bruised?

Why, Miss Emily! You look
absolutely gorgeous!

Why, thank you.
I have an appointment.

Really?
Business or pleasure?

Uh, business.

Mrs. Cowles,
I'm Mr. Cartwright.

- Oh, Mr. Cartwright.
- How do you do?

Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Kolchak.

- How do you do, sir?
- My pleasure.

It must be very nice
working with such
a great lady. Allow me.

She gives the best advice,
even medical advice.

- Oh, I'm sure.
- She's right on the button.

[ Chuckling ]
Yes. Yes, I--

Mr. Cartwright.

[ Gasps ]
Hormones! Mr. Cartwright--
Good luck, Emily!

Thank you.

Let's see.
Where was I?

Yes.

And if you happen to be
walking along a lonely
country road one night...

and you see
your favorite aunt
coming toward you,

good luck to you too.