Original subtitles

Our victim is a female, 35 to 40 years old, preliminary impressions.

Lividity, I'd guess in between eight and ten hours.

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

If he resists, you fuck him!

Quincy, it's wound up, you're lit. Now will you just 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 them.

They tell me.

None of 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.

But you probably are loving every minute of it.

Just burn your notes and keep them guessing.

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

You know that character you call Loretta?

You 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 in 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.

Now use your head, Margo.

Once you're in print, who's going to touch you?

They can't.

It'll 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 going to 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 Barbaram Miller.

Okay.

If tight security makes you feel any better,

but remember where I told you the money waits.

It's scandal, sweetheart.

Mark Farnberg.

Keep them coming, Eddie.

All four angles.

Okay, Sam.

Oh, shoot.

The bathroom and the closet,

regardless of how it looks.

Is that so clear?

Right.

Our victim is a female, 35 to 40 years old.

Now you say that she checked in yesterday afternoon

around 3 o'clock by the name of Barbara or Beverly Miller.

Right.

Otherwise, there was no address, no auto-report.

No address.

No address.

No address.

No address.

No address.

No address.

No address.

No address, no auto-registration, no luggage, no purse, no ID.

Come on.

Look, she had all that.

I don't know.

That registration card must have been misplaced.

I've been looking all 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 turning tricks in here, so what?

No one cares, huh?

At least we're trying to get an ID on a prostitute.

Look, she didn't look like one to me.

Now, what's in there are three brief items

a pair of clothes, 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.

Extend it toward a vodka bottle.

Well?

Done.

I mean done.

Half done.

We're not clear till the bodies are in the grave.

What are you talking 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 are your exact words.

This is murder we're talking about.

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

Kendall, 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.

And you heard the verdict?

For all practical purposes, Clorosis.

Poor Margo simply drank herself to death.

Now, you relax.

You take it easy.

We still have a little work ahead of us.

Yeah.

Whose blood alcohol is that?

The Miller woman.

Hey, you investigated it yourself.

Becoming a real virtuoso.

How are you matching up with yourself?

No problem.

She was drinking, not for the civic ocean, but a trace.

Do we go in?

I don't know.

We're backed up to Philadelphia.

The weekend hasn't even started yet.

Where is she?

Outside.

The whites of the eyes jaundice, some epidural hemorrhaging.

Sure looks like terminal liver disorder

and maybe serum hepatitis or cirrhosis.

You see any needle marks?

Not a one.

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

or liver failure brought on by Sane.

You're getting better every day.

Perfect.

Oh, so humble too, huh?

Pretty woman.

Shame, isn't it?

Hundred dollar prostitute, still a prostitute.

Old age is making you mean.

What's going to happen when you hit 28?

I'm shooting for Debonair, just like my honorable men.

You got a good chance.

How do you make it out to be a prostitute?

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

Well, take a smear and a 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?

The shooting.

What next?

All right, they've had enough time to check her over by now.

You're a prime candidate for a heart attack.

Yeah, well, maybe it's a company I keep.

Yeah, I don't know how I survive.

I've been five years on the outpost of democracy with a paranoid like you.

Listen, that's a little different, my friend,

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

Look, I can't stand waiting around anymore.

I'm going down to the funeral parlor right now.

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 got anxiety written all over you.

We can't afford any mistakes.

What are you talking about?

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

Kendall, you will agree this situation is a little different than the old days.

The 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 and 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 a, shall we say, a family embarrassment.

We've been informed through a friend of hers, 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 you. 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 families 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. Frederick's.

Whatever small consolation that is.

Still, you made this far easier than I anticipated.

As I understand it, you handle arrangements directly with the morgue.

No, the 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, you know 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 think 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. You recall?

Not that. How did you get me to sell my soul anyway?

You were on duty. Dodger Braves' Twilight Doubleheader.

You said you had to see it or die, and I agreed to have it taken care of.

Did I say that?

You're not going to give me 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.

Now, 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.

What are the key titles, then?

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's glib and very busy?

Will you take a look at this place?

I knew it. I mean, I knew it. I knew that you would try to wheedle out of this the last minute.

Believe me, I'm only thinking of 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, and until 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?

Doctor 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.

Try not to alarm the patients.

You parked it right in front again, in broad daylight.

Now, come on, Quincy. I mean, people around the marina are beginning to ask,

why is the coroner's car parked in front of Danny's restaurant?

These barn 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?

Want a drink?

Well, it seemed to me that...

What's the matter?

A tan.

So what about it?

Reminds me of somebody.

Yeah? With us or departed?

Hmm. It's not makeup, 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'd be delighted.

Oh, listen, I'm interested in your son, Tan. You do have it all over, haven't you?

Oh, come on, relax. I'm a doctor.

Freelance, no doubt.

No kidding. 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.

Don't press it.

Well, is he or isn't he?

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

May I, please?

It's incredible.

They're 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.

He may be an excellent pathologist when it comes to administrative decision making. Good grief.

Sam, 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 middle 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'd better post.

Quincy seems stronger about posting the Miller woman than Mr. Jones.

Sam!

Just trying to be helpful.

What'd they say? What'd they say?

Our sources were accurate. We got the right boy. He asked all the wrong questions.

You mean he didn't smell anything?

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.

She brought this on herself. There is nothing immoral about self-defense.

You beginning to doubt it was worth it?

I didn't say that.

Yeah. When are they gonna release the body?

It's on the way.

Hmm.

I mean, she's gone. She can't be gone. I put her on hold.

I told Aston Quincy, but he initialed her out.

Waldman and Thompson moved her out of here like gangbusters.

Then she isn't a Jane Doe if somebody contacted the mortuary.

Obviously.

Then who is she? Where does she live? What does she do?

Prostitution.

I wouldn't bet on it.

Even Monahan thinks so.

I'm sure our oracle heard from her.

Hello, honey. Quincy.

Listen, plug me into 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, you people picked up a Beverly or Barbara Miller earlier today from us.

And we find in checking our records that we're coming up short on both ID information

and a statement from a private physician.

I presume you have both.

Of course. Everything was handled by the attorney representing the Miller family,

Harold Frederick of Frederick and Hackbark.

Good. Who was the physician?

Neil Hammerman, M.D. Her GYN, I think he said.

He said? 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.

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

He's very rushed surgery-wise, so we just pushed ahead telephonically.

You took his word over the telephone?

Now, 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 a rashers. Thank you.

All right, Sam, gather up whatever you've got on that Miller woman and start pushing.

That blood alcohol I took still has got to be quantitated.

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

Where's Adam? All right, 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 Frederick from Frederick's and Hackbart...

and Dr. Neil Hammerman, okay? I'm gonna see Aston.

Yes?

Aston, you initialed the Miller woman in natural without going in. Why?

You know, you're supposed to be writing a speech, doctor.

I want you to hear this. At 10.30, she was at Jane Doe.

At 1 o'clock, she was at Borgman 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, doctor?

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.

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 holder or a bikini mark on it.

So she sunbathe in the new that has nothing to do with our job.

Our job is to intercept everything the body is trying to tell us...

and her body scream, money! Oh, in what language?

Nude sunbathing is illegal around here.

She had to have 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, doc?

What'd you find out?

The lawyer and the doctor, they're all phonies.

They snowed Borgman and Thompson, and on top of that...

the smear and phosphatase are negative.

And so is the blood alcohol. That means she wasn't drinking.

And as 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. I mean, a smidgen on the front end.

But there is still very little evidence for us to start running around screaming conspiracy.

I don't believe it.

A phony lawyer, a phony doctor, copying 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 a Buffalo knee.

Dr. Quincy, now, just where do you think you're going?

I'm going to get you off the hook. Your initials are on the release, remember?

A little premature to be getting hysterical.

Now, what we've got at most is a misappropriation of a body.

You know, that's not even a felony.

It's a disposition of a body.

We've seen this happen time and time again.

Where are you going?

Back to the lab.

Oh. Sam?

Now, I'd keep away from Quincy on this one.

He'd have us believe that this was some sort of a worldwide conspiracy.

Sorry to have kept you waiting.

Oh, that's all right.

Listen, I notice every place does it differently.

Over on Sunset Boulevard, they use hot oil.

You use a cream massage.

What is it, 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.

I'm sorry, I'm not sure I'm the best at this.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm Dr. Quincy, coroner's office.

Oh, well.

Nice.

But we haven't lost a patient all day.

No, no, no, nothing like that.

A woman was found earlier today,

and we've 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 have frequented a salon.

Hey, if you're asking me to go down to the morgue to look at the...

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

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

I'll tell you who she is.

Pretty bad?

No, not bad at all, no.

What'd she die of?

Well, that I can't disclose until we're through testing.

Listen, maybe I'd better describe her to you, huh?

No, no, it's okay.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

Okay.

Not bad.

Oh, my God.

Margot Bentley.

Are you all right?

Sit down.

Now, breathe deeply. Come on.

Take deep breaths. Get a glass of water, will you, please?

Come on, breathe.

Margot Bentley?

The girl who runs with the jet sellers in the movie stars?

Where's the water? Come on, please.

Drink this very slowly.

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

It's a positive on Margot Bentley.

Old Malibu road that's in a colony.

Margot Bentley, huh?

I think I heard about her someplace.

Well, you heard about her in the newspapers.

She's been writing a book about her life with the celebrities,

all that other cockamania.

You gonna go to the cops?

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

Between you and me, Aston blew this thing,

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

We gotta bail him out.

Now, you help me cover, and I'll make you an old queen of Tokyo gardens.

All right. What do you want me to do?

Well, have Adam prepare a blood smear and a blood augur 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 a couple of hamburgers.

I'll meet you at the beach house.

All right.

Boy, you did a beautiful job refinishing this minicle.

You are the best, Gus.

You want a hernia? I got one extra.

That bolt's really built, huh, Gus?

You of all people, Doc,

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 going in there. Come on. I can't hold it forever. Come on.

Well, then you go in there.

All right. We'll switch sides. Go ahead. Put it in there.

Oh, boy. Okay.

Okay. I'll tilt it over to you.

Okay. Okay. You got it?

Hey, wait.

Wait. I'm gonna get inside.

I'm gonna get inside.

Okay.

You got something 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 waters of french fries, two vanilla shakes,

and two large coleslaw.

Got some kind of appetite, sir. Doubles down the line.

Are you sure?

Hey, I can't eat all that. Half of it's for my friend.

And hurry it up, will you, kid?

My friend's awful hungry.

Yes, sir.

Good yama. What are you people doing here?

Doing here, uh, looking around, that's all.

Why?

It seemed like the thing to do.

Look, there's a police department seal on that front door.

Now, the manager of this motel called my office

and was wondering what you're doing here.

I'm wondering the same thing.

S.O.P., monahan. Standard operating procedure.

Did you get a cause of death in the proxy?

Yeah. Natural.

Then why this?

Why not?

Our full acute 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 a speech.

Sam.

That's the best.

Who's this?

Well, if I go to the track and we're off and you're off...

No, well, don't worry about that.

The melon's part, but you should try that.

The Daily Double's not to get hurt.

This act is for some reason choked on us.

Excuse me.

Just telling you the truth.

Really? I wouldn't write out a...

You should stay away from them.

Kevin, keep it secret.

Sure.

Well, 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.

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'd 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?

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.

Oh, now, 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 a little time before the newspapers explode 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.

Would 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.

Everybody in Malibu was on her back. Either to be written out or written in.

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 going to 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.

Whence?

He's exactly what he says he is, so why don't you put that away before somebody gets hurt?

I'm sorry. I thought I was bagging a cat burglar.

Do you have a license to carry that gun?

Yes. And do you have a warrant for the search?

Touche, my man.

I'll get to you.

How did you know where to find it?

I'm taking Sam's place.

Is it lunch?

And you?

I'm Lynn Dressler, Frank Swain 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 Lieutenant 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 books and her typewriter were right over there.

Who's Margo?

She lives here.

When's the last time you spoke to her?

Noonish. I thought that she was absolutely delighted with this place.

She give any reason for moving?

Mm-hmm. Privacy. I guess riders need that.

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... the people crawling the streets these days.

Takes a lot of courage just to read the newspapers.

Isn't that the truth?

Now, if I were a smart lieutenant, I'd go out there and try to catch her license plate.

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

I expect you outside in five minutes to explain why a police seal was broken on a quarantined motel.

Him?

All packed and gone in a few hours, nobody notices.

That isn't kosher. Have you had lunch?

Jack? Yeah?

Where have you been? Oh, I got caught up in the traffic. I'm sorry.

We got 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 up, Margo's police.

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

By being very, very good.

You know something, this is getting messier and messier. Yeah.

Who else is going to be getting on in this bandwagon now?

Oh, I think he's on his own. The cops showed up. He, uh, he apparently doesn't get along too well with him.

Yeah. That doesn't mean they won't start listening if he keeps digging.

How much has he got?

Uh, nothing so far. Except an ID on Margo.

And we're still a leave for, uh, New York, right?

I don't think we have any other choice if we expect to clean up all the loose ends.

It's too late to quit now, even if we have to come back and, uh, 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, that Jane Doe in the motel room, is she or isn't she a natural death?

Unless you ask Austin, it's his case.

Oh, no, I'm asking you, pursuant to my discovery of Sam Fugiam on quarantine premises.

What does Sam say?

A lot of bull. Now, Quincy, he's scared about something. Why?

Okay, my man. The Jane Doe in the motel room?

Yeah.

She's Margo Bentley. The lady in the newspapers.

Oh, Marone. No, not another circus. Come on, now, Quincy.

What are you trying to stir up? The death was a natural. I read your report.

No, no, no. You read Austin'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 pants says, Quincy. That's it. The case isn't a case.

Now I go back to my office and work on the other 29 gunshot murders spread across my desk.

Come on, with your man hand? The body is stolen for immediate cremation?

A classy Malibu lady that's 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,

and 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.

Friends probably whisk her away to save her from public humiliation.

Who knows? Quincy, I'm up to my armpits in homicides. They're for real.

Okay. Listen, I guess if I were in your shoes, I'd take the same position.

Well, it's about time. Then you're dropping this one.

Well, man hand, if you were in my shoes...

You do?

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.

Man, 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.

Do you recognize it?

No. What is it?

Looks like a color plate in a textbook.

You know Mark Dabbage over at UCLA?

Hematologist, sure.

I want you to round him up for me. 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? Keep doing your own work.

Flip it on the screen again, will you, Adam?

Take anything for it?

Best I remind you, doctor, that I am a doctor.

Now just get on with it.

I know Jane Doe as Margo Bentley. I had to hear that tidbit from Lieutenant Monahan.

Better for me than from his wife. It was very heavy in the newspapers.

Quincy, don't toy with me, please.

Coming.

Dabbage 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'll pick up a whisper at five yards and transmit 70.

Listen, genius, that could have been in the room for weeks or months.

I mean, don't private detectives use those things for...

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 caution you repeatedly?

You know, you have a lot of thin, circumstantial and eclectic gatherings.

Aston, please.

A beach house swept clean of our possessions overnight.

A family that claimed the body when Margo Bentley had no family.

They were phony lawyers, they 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 Lieutenant Monahan,

then I would be perfectly willing.

Oh, good.

Hello.

Dr. Quincy?

Yup.

Claire Gardner. Could I meet you someplace?

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

It is important.

Hold on, will you?

Sam?

Yeah.

I'm going home. When Babbage gets here, have him work on the slide

and see if he can figure out what it is, okay?

Then have him call me.

Right.

Does he 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 then.

Want a drink?

Do I dare?

I recommend a Mike Tide followed by a loose tongue.

Sounds fabulous. When do we begin?

Right now.

Uh-oh.

I know I promised you a Mike Tide,

but 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 don't want to take six months off and I'm...

You okay?

I know you care a great deal about Margo.

She didn't have anyone. Not anyone.

You talking about Margo or yourself?

What a joke. We must have been a couple of aging beach buddies.

Why are you putting yourself down?

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

What do you know about me?

What do you know about Margo?

I know she liked herself because 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. Hi, Marge.

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

Because I can't.

It is?

All right, I'll be right there.

I'm sorry, but it's so scary, I gotta go.

It's all right, I understand.

It's the first time anybody's ever jumped ship to get away from me.

Are you kidding? I'm so flattered that you're here.

If it wasn't really important...

No, no, no.

Look, you don't have to explain. I understand.

Look, 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 nothing calls, but some of them,

the ones to New York, were real monsters, like 50, 70, 80 dollars.

Do you have the New York number?

Don't you mind asking?

Well, 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 sorry.

I can be back in nothing flat.

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

How close are we?

What about like my sex life and Joe Namath's?

You call that close?

It's a spirochete.

Could be anyone of a couple of dozen aerobic leptospira.

Leptospira? That's connected to Wilde's disease.

Rats used to get that transmitted to sewer workers.

That's in that genus, all right.

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

we'd be walking an empty planet.

Now, what we're looking at is some kind of hybrid.

Come on, Marv, think out loud, will you?

The woman.

A liver failure, huh?

You think so?

Hungry little buggers.

What do you think I could show it to? Who would know?

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

I can shotgun cultures to the public health service,

CSCD in Washington.

Sure, go ahead.

Hey, Marv, level with me.

Are we talking epidemic?

I wouldn't panic yet.

But a couple of CCs are this.

Quince, it's 9 o'clock in New York.

Remember you wanted to make that call?

Yeah, excuse me, Marv.

Arthur Ellis, agency. Good morning.

Can you hold on a sec while I turn on the coffee?

Hello?

Did you get the coffee turned on?

Yes, sorry, had to hold.

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

I'm calling on behalf of Margo Pentley.

Yes, doctor, how can I help you?

Oh, wait a minute, Doug, God.

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,

and then maybe I can, you know,

decipher what I've got written here.

We're a literary agency,

and Mr. Ellis was representing Miss Pentley before...

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.

Psorosis.

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 man of disposition?

Excuse me?

Mr. Ellis' remains.

Oh, 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.

Lucky, get some gas up there.

You hear what I said?

We got a body now, a guy named Ellis.

He was a literary agent.

So get your autopsy report in order,

and I'll proceed from there.

I haven't done an autopsy,

and I won't be able to do one by five o'clock tomorrow.

The body's going to be in ashes.

So go do it.

Come on, I have...

I don't have jurisdiction. I don't have cooperation.

The only way I could touch the body

is if you call the cops in Stoney Shore, Long Island

and tell them to delay the funeral.

Look, I only want you to put on the brakes long enough

for me to have somebody jump in and take hepatic sections.

All right, Quincy, look, I suppose you want me

to drop everything and get on it right away.

That would be a big help, my man.

All right, Quincy, look, let me confer with the sniper,

and if he says it's okay for me to knock off for an hour or two

to go downtown and do the necessary...

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

Lock it!

Lock it!

Get this civilian out of here!

If he resists, you book him and lose his shape.

You understand?

Get out of here!

You've got it right, Doctor.

I'm the coroner for Stoney Shore County.

Oh, good. Listen, we've got a troublesome case

on our hands, Doctor.

The reason I believe it may be linked to the death

of a man who was killed in the war

or the reason I 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, huh?

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 a Jonas Salk

to tell where he was headed.

But you did autopsy him.

I autopsyed him.

Well, I wandered in, took one look

at the condition of his liver.

Never seen anything like it.

Inflamed, huh? I assume you took a section.

What for?

I could tell what killed the man.

Well, it's just that you can't.

Now, you hold on, Doctor.

I've been looking at serotic

livers for over 35 years

of medical practice.

Doctor, no... I could tell a cirrhosis in a dark room.

Doctor, listen, no disrespect, man.

But you're not a trained pathologist,

and I'm talking about an obscure hepatic bacillus.

Now, its symptoms may be serotic,

but it's a bacteria,

and it is a deadly bacteria,

and we have not been able to identify it.

Look, that's why I would appreciate it

if you would delay Arthur Ellis's cremation

and funeral until I can get a pathologist

out there to do a post on him.

Now, will you do that for me, please?

An outside pathologist?

Who?

Somebody from New York City?

Oh, anyone close 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.

Oh, 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?

Well, not until you tell them.

Haven't you got that backwards?

You tell your police, they tell our police,

and then they tell me.

None of you knew what you were doing!

Oh, Doc, I didn't mean that.

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, okay?

Well, well, well, well.

You know, I'd say you had a busy night and morning, Doc.

You know, 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 book work

that we lost that woman.

Well, it's because of your obstinate meddling

and police department work that we have alienated

the county coroner of Stoney Shore, Long Island.

Oh, heavens.

Say it isn't so.

We've alienated

Dr. Jonathan Waterman,

the verna von Braun of Stoney Shore, 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.

Come on, why don't you call one of your association buddies

or one of your lodge buddies,

one of your convention buddies.

You've schmoozed it up with every county medical examiner

and all over the country.

Come on, do me a favor, will you call the guy in New York,

your friend, you know what his name is, the guy...

This one, yeah, that's right, Sam. Why don't you call him?

And tell him what? Although we have no body,

we'd like to play detective. How many times do I have to say

that we have a body? No, no, no.

No, no.

It isn't our body.

It's Stoney Shore's body.

Yeah. And Stoney Shore's county

coroner, who also happens

to have been Mr. Ellis's private physician,

sees no reasonable reason

to oblige you. Quincey, it's wound

up your lip. Now, will you just...

Come on, take it like a man.

Yeah, that's him.

Double homicide, he's talking sportsmanship.

Philosophically speaking, Sam,

this whole situation stinks.

Speaking of speaking, doctor, you know you're

doing Buffalo tomorrow. I have

your tickets in my office.

I will not accept anything but your

assurance that you'll be on the plane.

OK, OK, you win, Aston. You know, that's odd,

because I expected a last-ditch paroxysm

of kicking, screaming... Sportsmanship,

remember? Win or lose, I always play

fair.

You are going to 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.

I was talking about clothes. I want the largest microscope I can find

in the complete section. Come on.

These are great for anxiety.

I'd say from these alone that you have

one crackerjack and turdice.

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 doing all that drinking.

Oh, that reminds me. Now, you said

something on the phone about Mr. Ellis

leaving instructions as to his disposition,

his cremation. Now, 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'll bet he was an organized man.

Um, I don't want to speak ill of the dead,

but he was messy. No kidding.

Mm-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, uh, it was a mess.

And this was a real neat letter, huh?

Immaculate.

Well, it would 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 were the grief and the people and the receiving in the 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'd better take the call in private.

Those are divine.

Just follow me into the living room. I'll show you where they go.

What's this? No, not that. That's too much.

Too much.

Oh, you know that over here by the drapes.

But 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, the 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 of the things we're finding.

And, well, from a public health standpoint,

we feel it's necessary to delay the funeral until tomorrow when we'll know more, see?

Delay the funeral?

Are you out of your mind?

People who matter are driving in from every corner of New England

to pay their final respects to a publishing giant.

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.

Now, 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? Deetwiler?

Deetwiler. Dr. Quincy.

Well, I see your connection with Margo Bentley was her book.

I figured 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.

But 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 it's in both those chapters.

Look, 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 are not wanted here.

Why not? What's at stake for you?

Nothing.

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

Let me tell you something. If you're playing 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.

Oliver.

Mr. Castle.

Mrs. Stedtweiler. Are we ready for lunch?

Yes.

As I was saying, it's all around the bend, isn't it?

Arthur Ellis is dead. You have no idea 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.

Mrs. Stedtweiler, as Arthur's London publisher, we've 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 set.

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 extremely close.

Mrs. Stedtweiler, we are prepared to pay a lot to anyone who could do what would amount to a... call it a recreation.

Are you interested?

There is some interest in my part, yes.

Yes?

I just had lunch with her. She says she read the manuscript.

All of it?

And not to feel very sure of herself.

I think she's got to go. At least she's the last of it, huh?

Maybe, maybe not.

That medical examiner from Los Angeles, Quincy, he's here. He was leaving our office when I came in.

All right, then we got to fix them both.

Yeah. I'll need your help.

Just leave the car here.

You're...

Me?

What in the mean places 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 get a cremation, you try to cut corners, you try to save money on material and labor.

What's the difference? It's all gonna go up on smoke. Is that right, sir?

We Felsenfields have been servicing this community for 111 years. Never one...

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 that the United States Senate wants, a chance to check your work, to see that the bereaved aren't being shot through.

Do you have to do this now?

Well, 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.

Thank you. You're so kind.

What do you think you're doing?

Red roses and rust chrysanthemums. Are you colorblind?

And those carnations. Good Lord. This is a funeral, not a fruit salad.

And Arthur should...

Where's the coffin?

Arthur! Stop that! What are you doing?

It's beyond our control, Mrs. Ellis. Federal intervention.

This is Arthur's funeral. Arthur is part of the service.

Please, may I speak to you? Would you take those down for me, please?

Mrs. Ellis, please calm down. 20 minutes is all it'll take. The tests I spoke to you about on the phone.

Can you hear me?

Yes.

Oh. Oh. Oh, what, what, what?

What kind of a twisted human being are you?

What kind of a deranged mind does this to a perfectly coordinated affair?

Look, listen to me. 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.

Now, Brita, give me Los Angeles, California. Collect. 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 Babbage on the phone.

Quince. Yeah, Marv? We've got an ID. Leptospirosis. Developed by the military for germ warfare.

Marv, that's impossible. I mean, 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 got a liver arrest, you assume it's alcohol.

Listen, I just did a section on Arthur Ellis. What we had to incubate for Margo Bentley's blood was visible here at first glance.

That ties it. Where's Aston?

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.

Okay, what's our next move?

I don't know. There's a little lady here who's being very foolish with her life.

Felsenfield, what's going on here?

Shhh. Please.

Your next move is to get those sections sliced out of 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?

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

Mr. Felsenfield?

Felsenfield.

Field. That is a homicide out there. Now, you make sure that Arthur Ellis is not removed. Do you understand that?

How do you do, Dr. Warrneman?

And listen, 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.

Tell me. Hey, Doctor. Is it or isn't it?

Is it what? It is. Let's go.

All right.

Wait a minute.

I'm telling you about a double murder, Margo Bentley and Arthur Ellis, cause of death of bacillus, developed by the military for bacteriological warfare and thought to be extinct.

Military?

That's right, baby. And one measly green of this stuff when your power puffer's 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 this situation.

Mr. Castle.

Mrs. Netwiler, I was just going in to pay my final respects to Mr. Ellis.

This is Mr. Castle, Arthur's London publisher. This is Dr. Quincy.

Doctor.

He's a medical examiner from Los Angeles and 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 a book that Margo Bentley was writing.

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'm really scared.

Well, it isn't making me feel too secure either.

Well, listen, 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 in the police custody as quickly as possible?

The funeral?

Oh, there's no time, sir.

Well, can you drop me at the Stoney Shore 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 Dettwiler, the two military men you mentioned, what did Margo say about them?

She called them her fair-haired pair, military intelligence officers. They were living like kings in Mexico. Margo was queen of the ball.

She knew a couple of the syndicate boys, and 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 outbusting penny-anny 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 where 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.

Easily, but 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?

Well, unless you were the one who used it.

Where's your partner?

Waiting for us at the airport.

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

A matter of survival, Miss Detwiler. 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?

I wonder, flying over the water, Miss Detwiler, we'll think of something.

Pull up.

Everybody out.

Everybody out. The other side, please.

Okay, Frederick, it's all over. You're finished.

You seem to forget, Doctor. I have the gun.

A lot of good that's going to do you or your partner. That's a police copter.

What are you talking about?

Do you think I would get in the car with a killer?

I let you drive Lynn and me out here so you and your friend could deep-six us?

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

I didn't, huh? I didn't?

Tell them, Lynn.

Go ahead, tell them. Go on, tell them.

Um, do you think I should?

Sure, tell them 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.

I just want to make sure it was you and him, that's all.

That copter's been following us since the mortuary.

Nice try, Quincy. Get in the plane. Come on, move.

Okay, we have them. East end of 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? No, 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's the pilot.

There he goes again.

Will you listen to me? They brought us here on the gunpoint.

True.

All right, you're all under arrest.

Oh, no, I can't be under arrest. I've got to give a lecture in Buffalo.

Buffalo? Not today, you're not.

No Buffalo? No lecture? Promise?