Original subtitles

Do you plan to give Sun and Sky another race

before the Derby, Mr. Green?

Why, yes, Bob.

We've entered him in the Stepping Stone

at Churchill Downs one week from today.

It'll give him a chance to get to know the track.

They're loading the horses now.

Everything's right on schedule.

The first time you saw Sun and Sky, Mrs. Green,

did you ever think that in just a couple of years,

he'd be a favorite in the Kentucky Derby?

Oh, well, not exactly.

He was only two days old.

He was a scrawny little thing

with wobbly legs and the saddest pair of eyes you've ever seen.

All I could do was put my arms around him

and tell him everything was going to be just fine.

And so, ladies and gentlemen,

Mr. and Mrs. Richmond Green's colt, Sun and Sky,

leaves California on the first leg

of what could become an historic journey.

A prohibitive favorite in the Run for the Roses,

Sun and Sky now seems to have an excellent chance

in the Preakness and in the Belmont Stakes

and would thus become the first winner

of the elusive Triple Crown

since Citation pulled that trick in 1948.

I know it's foolish, but I... I get nervous when he flies.

Darling, he'll be just fine.

Is that cool yet?

Well, it ought to be.

Thanks.

Give me a hand with this clamp, will you, Floyd? It's loose.

Yep.

Yeah, that's the way she goes.

Good.

Stu, you feeling all right?

I feel a little queasy.

Take over a minute, will you? Yeah.

See how's the big boy doing.

Stick!

What's the matter?

I don't know.

Stu... V.J., I...

Hello, Barstow Tower...

Mercury Transport... Four-Two Tango...

emergency aboard.

Request... immediate clearance to land...

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday...

♪ ♪

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

There are other planes in the search pattern, Mr. Green.

We should be able to find it.

Not much doubt about what we'll find, is there?

A Mayday, a broken radio contact...

It all adds up to the same thing for all of them.

Let's give it a few more minutes, huh?

Althea's going to come apart.

You see, Mr. Mannix, we never had any children.

We couldn't.

I gave Sun and Sky to her

on our silver anniversary.

For her, he was like... Mr. Green, look!

It's an old Army Air Force landing strip.

Hey, Dave, take us down for a closer look-see.

Roger.

Looks like it made a perfect landing.

Floyd... Floyd Brand, one of my grooms.

He's alive.

Dave! Dave!

Get on the radio, call the Barstow Tower.

Give them our position and tell them to send over an ambulance

and call the police!

Roger.

The pilot and copilot are still alive.

Stick Wilson, another one of my grooms.

He's alive, too.

Sun and Sky and the pony are gone.

Is there anybody missing

that was aboard the plane?

No.

You sure?

I watched them all go aboard.

It's my guess this coffee's been doctored.

I'll get it checked.

You don't suppose they've kidnapped Sun and Sky, do you?

Maybe holding him for ransom?

I don't know, could be.

Mr. Mannix, I don't know

what the insurance company is paying you

for this investigation, but if you need...

Oh, they're paying me enough, Mr. Green.

No, I mean, if you need any extra manpower.

Oh, Thanks. I'll let you know if I do.

Well, I wish you'd just give me the answer

to one question, Mr. Mannix.

With those four men unconscious,

who landed the airplane?

It was a stowaway.

Had to be.

We sure didn't put that plane down.

You can tell your insurance company... whatever its name is...

Great Pacific.

Great Pacific... that there was a stowaway aboard that plane,

and that when we blacked out, he landed the plane.

Now, wait a minute, where did he stow away?

I don't know. I don't know.

In the baggage compartment or-or in the washroom, maybe.

Maybe in one of them tack trunks.

Except, uh, they're only about yea big.

Wouldn't hold more than 60 pounds.

There're quite a few places to hide

aboard a cargo plane, Mr. Mannix.

All right, now, let's say that we did have a stowaway

in the baggage compartment, washroom, someplace.

Now, how did he get the...

chloral hydrate in the coffee?

The lab reports says

that the thermos was loaded with the stuff.

All those papers are lab findings?

That's right.

Also police reports.

Now, Great Pacific has a half a million dollars

riding on Sun and Sky.

How did the stuff get into the thermos?

It's my thermos, Mr. Mannix,

and Richmond bought the coffee

from the catering truck at the airport.

I put it on the airplane myself,

with the lunch hamper, waiting for the horse van.

Somebody could have tampered with the thermos.

The man on that catering truck... Was he the regular driver?

As a matter of fact, no.

He said the regular man was down with a virus.

All right now, I'd like a sequence of loading procedure.

Let's start with...

the first thing this morning.

I guess it begins with me.

I got up at 4:30.

Ever notice, Mr. Mannix,

that them that's paid the least gets up the earliest?

And then... I had my breakfast... Some cold spaghetti,

and a piece of lemon pie and...

It's what I had for dinner the night before,

and I put it in my doggie bag.

Oh, and a glass of beer.

At 4:30 in the morning?

I just love lemon pie.

And then I started to feed and curry down the big fella,

Sun and Sky.

And, uh, then Floyd come by about 5:00.

And him and me put the shipping pads on him

and then the horse van come by at... at 7:00.

At 7:00?

Yeah, about 7:00.

So, we watched them load the equipment.

You know, the tack trunks, and the hay and the feed.

And then we loaded, uh, Sunny and Alexander... that's the pony.

Sunny won't go nowhere without him.

And then what?

Well, that's about it until we got out to the airport.

Like Mr. Green said, they was already there,

the Greens and the TV people.

So we walked Sunny and Alexander

while they loaded the baggage on the plane,

and then we put the horses on board.

That's right. Yeah, that's right.

I went back to secure the main cargo hatch

and told Stu that everything was battened down, and we took off.

It must have been about a half hour when Floyd came up sick.

And you all had a cup of coffee?

We always do.

And you all passed out at about the same time?

V.J. and I were already shaky when Floyd came up.

He collapsed and I passed out right after that, too.

I realized we'd never make Barstow, so I laid on a Mayday.

Now, what's the last thing you saw?

The very last thing you remember?

The sky turning upside down.

Well, excuse me.

More lab reports.

Hmm. All four men had enough chloral hydrate in their systems

to knock them out for at least 24 hours.

What do you have so far?

Would you buy a 60-pound midget in a tack trunk

that could fly an airplane?

I don't think so.

Then I've got nothing.

Is this the final report? Yeah.

No fingerprints?

Wiped clean.

The whole thing was organized like D-day.

We did come up with one police record, though.

Walter "Stick" Wilson, two counts of drunk and disorderly,

and he also has a running battle for nonsupport with his wife.

So, the guy has the moral backbone of an ice-cream cone.

What about the others?

Solid citizens so far.

Military records?

Not in yet.

But I did learn something

that will make up for the lack of fingerprints.

It's about the pilot, Stu Marshall.

What about him?

A secretary at the airline tipped me

to check his last flight physical.

His eye test was borderline.

He's getting his notice at the end of the month.

Does he know about that?

Affirmative.

Yeah.

That gives us at least two men who have money troubles.

Three, Mr. Mannix.

We couldn't help but overhear you.

Althea and I talked it over, and we decided it would be best

to come to you with the information.

Information?

You come up with another suspect?

Well, I guess you might say that.

Us.

Those are the forms for the disposal sale

of Green Tool and Die Works, Mr. Mannix.

I made some investments that backfired.

Now, we're in for a period of belt-tightening

to satisfy the creditors, like getting rid of Green Stables.

All except Sun and Sky, of course.

Which means that, uh, everyone who worked for you

will be out of a job, including Stick Wilson and Floyd Brand.

Yes, everyone.

It wasn't an easy decision, Mr. Mannix.

We had hoped

that Richmond could get a fresh start

if Sun and Sky won the Derby.

I see.

Well, um, all right, Mr. Green.

I'll get in touch with you the minute I find out anything.

All right, thank you, Mr. Mannix.

Oh, excuse me, dear.

Fine. Yes.

We just didn't want you to think we arranged

the disappearance of Sun and Sky for the insurance.

Uh-huh.

Thank you, Mr. Mannix. Good-bye.

Yes, indeed.

Mr. Green.

Yes. Yes.

Fine. Thank you.

That was the regular driver on the coffee truck.

And?

He said he woke up the other morning, feeling just fine.

Then he got sick afterwards.

Someone hit him on the head.

Well, did he see anything?

Only what you see when you get hit on the head.

Now, don't be a smart...

You know, it doesn't make sense.

If the Greens needed money, why didn't they just sell the horse?

He's worth a million... twice the insurance.

Sell him? Now, you don't understand the Greens.

They think that horse has the same blood type they do.

When they call him Sunny, they aren't kidding.

All right, tell me this, then.

No matter who stole the horse, isn't he easily recognizable?

I mean, millions of people have seen him

at the racetrack and on TV.

Now, millions of people have seen a gray horse

called Sun and Sky.

You'd be surprised the change a few gallons of dye

would have on a horse.

Especially if they've got him stashed away in the toolies,

away from the tracks and TV.

No, thanks. I'm trying to cut down, Peggy.

Hey, Mannix. What do you say?

Well, Paddy.

Must be spring vacation at San Quentin.

Aw, come on, Mannix.

I've been on the street eight months now.

And I thought the prevailing winds

were from across the stockyard.

Will you listen to him?

Here I am trying to be a good guy.

Here I am trying to do you a favor.

I'll bet.

Uh, can we go in your office and talk?

After you, Paddy.

This is your lucky day, Mannix.

Your lucky day.

All right, Paddy.

What brings you out in the full sunlight?

Hardhead.

Why do you have to be such a hardhead?

Okay, now listen.

I got a nice, clean, easy way for you to pick up ten big ones.

I swear, ten thou and no sweat.

Just a little dishonest, huh?

Hmm, well... maybe.

Maybe a little dishonest only.

Like... like... so much.

Out. Out.

Now, look.

Look, Joe, this is the way it is.

You work too hard, Joe.

You gotta ease off.

Not exactly, uh, quit the Sun and Sky business; just hold...

Just hold your punches

a little... in the last round.

Oh, I see.

Okay?

Just how deep are you in this horse stealing thing, Paddy?

Who, me?

Yeah, you.

Horses?

Aw, Joe, you know, I don't...

I don't know nothing from horses.

I just beat on people, Joe.

Oh, and, uh, you'd beat on me

if I didn't go for the deal?

Uh... I'd have to.

I wouldn't like it.

Oh, Paddy, Paddy, you gotta learn.

Now, if you're going to play at being a good guy,

good guys don't go into the tank.

Not even for ten big ones.

Oh, and Paddy, remember this, too.

You try pounding on me,

and I'll belt you right out of the Muggers Union.

Okay.

Your way, Joe.

Your way.

Mrs. Green.

Hello, Mr. Mannix.

Is your husband here?

Richmond is taking a telephone call in the office.

Hmm.

Oh, do you know Mr. Dallas?

He's a friend of ours.

Mr. Mannix, Mr. Dallas.

Hiya, young fella.

How do you do, sir?

Mr. Mannix is the investigator for the insurance company.

Sure. Althea and Richmond have been talking you up real good.

How you making out getting back the wonder horse, son?

Got a long way to go, Mr. Dallas.

Yeah, I imagine.

Althea...

you mind if I tell Mr. Mannix what I said to you?

Oh, of course not.

Well, sir, it wasn't but five minutes ago

that I said to Althea, "Althea, don't you worry none.

"It's just the old ransom game done up in different ribbons,

"but without a bill of sale, Sun and Sky's worth nothing

to nobody but you folks."

Worth nothing?

Not one flat, red cent.

But Sun and Sky's won hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Yeah, it's a bushel of money and a barrel of racing records,

but it don't mean a thing.

Know much about horse racing, son?

Well, I'm learning.

Well, let me give you a free lesson.

Now, the Thoroughbred Protective Association

puts a number to every horse that runs in this country.

Now, you can't see it,

'cause it's inside his mouth, on his lip.

But it's there, and it's easy to find

if you're looking for it.

It seems like a pretty neat precaution.

Why, a man can't walk a horse around the corner

without someone checking on that number.

And Sunny's got his tattoo on his lip,

same as every other registered thoroughbred.

Hmm.

Mr. Dallas... Sam.

You said every horse that runs in this country.

Now, isn't it possible that they could ship Sun and Sky

say to, uh, South America or Europe and race him there?

Could, could, sure.

But he's still got that tattoo, hasn't he?

Mm.

Now, if a vet or a track examiner

was to open his mouth, bingo.

There's that old tattoo.

Now, it just takes a check in the records

or a telephone call to identify him.

Now, Sunny's maybe one of the greatest horses

ever to set foot on a track,

but still and all, he's not worth a flat, red cent.

What time you got, son?

Um, it's half past.

Oh, my, got to get a shake on, or I'll get left at the post.

Well, it's good to meet you, young fella.

Pleasure.

Take care now, Althea, you hear?

Just wait them out.

They got to come to you sooner or later.

Anything for you, sir?

Uh, no, thanks.

It seems like he knows his horses.

It hasn't done him much good, poor Sam.

Poor Sam? Mm.

For years, hard luck has dogged his heels

like a hound dog.

Richmond says that if Sam Dallas

had been born a gardener,

he would have a brown thumb.

He's been a breeder of horses and a trainer for years.

The better part of his life.

But every time he got a good prospect,

the horse would fracture a sesamoid,

go lame or fall down at the starting gate.

He lost his own place years ago.

I've been told that he's managing a horse farm

in Quail Valley or some place.

I have a hunch that he wanted

to borrow some money from Richmond.

Obviously, he hadn't heard about us.

Althea.

Hello, Mr. Mannix.

Well, it happened.

I got the phone call and the instructions for ransom.

What did they say?

Well, it was pretty strange, actually.

Strange?

First off, it was a girl.

That was a shock to begin with.

She wants me to put the money in a plain grocery bag

and take it down to an alley on Pier Avenue.

I know where that is.

There's an old movie house there.

I'm to take the money to them tonight at 12:00

and put it in a special trash can.

Did they say anything about Sunny?

Anything at all?

He's all right, Althea.

They said he's all right.

What do you think, Mr. Mannix?

Well, first of all, Mr. Green,

you won't be delivering this money; it'll be me.

And what's this number at the bottom?

That's what I don't understand.

That's the ransom.

Ransom for the greatest horse that ever set foot on a track?

$753?

Whoa... Oh, wow.

Like I said, Joe... your way.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Where am I?

You, uh...

You the one who made that phone call to... Richmond Green?

Yes.

Well...

Let me, uh... let me give you a little clue.

Now, at this moment, the way that thing stacks up is this:

That's two to 14 years... grand theft...

Horse. Hey... We didn't steal any horse.

Yeah, we read about it in the newspaper.

We don't know where he is.

The phone call was only in protest to a society

that valued a horse at a million dollars

and the soul of a man at pittance.

We were wrong.

We know that now.

You trying to tell me that

you had nothing to do with, uh...

the disappearance of that horse?

No way.

Nor do we want the money.

You can have it back.

Look, we're sorry for inspiring violence.

But we did save you from those men.

You, uh...

Flower children pulled those gorillas off of me?

Lazarus blew his police whistle.

Berkeley police, 1966.

You tore the shirt off one of them.

We found this in the street after they ran.

Hmm.

Old acquaintance.

Your, uh, your car is right where you left it.

Will you be all right?

Groovy, groovy, groovy.

Uh... Tell me something... meditators.

Why $753, huh?

I mean... what kind of ransom is that?

It's a very beautiful number.

Lazarus composed it.

More coffee, Mrs. Green?

No, thank you, Peggy.

Morning.

It is morning, isn't it?

Sure is.

Are you all right?

Reasonably.

The money!

You didn't give it...

Well, it was a phony call but helpful.

What happened?

An old acquaintance of mine

and a couple of his lodge brothers decided

on giving me a sort of initiation.

Saved by flower power.

My friend Paddy Wright left his calling card.

Maintains a very casual filing list.

There's a, uh, number there, Peggy.

Uh, with S. D. behind it.

Give it a call, huh?

S.D.?

Sam Dallas?

Why, you don't think, uh...

I'll let you know. What are your plans?

Well, uh, the Paddock Club for lunch.

Good. I'll, uh...

I'll get in touch with you.

All right.

See you later.

Line's busy.

Well, keep trying

and then call the cab company

and tell them to pick me up in the alley in about ten minutes.

A cab, in the alley?

Yep.

Paddy Wright's been following me ever since yesterday.

Found him following me again this morning.

Where I'm going now,

I'd just as soon have him think I'm still here.

Where are you going?

Tattoo parlor at 4431 Ogden.

You're next.

It ain't the Sistine Chapel,

but you ain't paying Michelangelo's prices.

Hmm.

I didn't figure you for a ship.

You know, frankly, I didn't come here to get stained.

Assuming it ain't some kind of flake

or collecting for charity,

what did you come for?

What did you come for?

I'd like a short history on tattooing.

For a ten spot, you get the first page, the first page.

Okay, then how about a couple of questions?

First, what kind of a tattoo did you put on Paddy Wright?

Easy. None.

None. Question two:

If he didn't come here for a tattoo, why did he come here?

This, uh, receipt's got your name on it?

Well, like it says,

I did a job of work for him.

He paid me a hundred.

Out of town somewhere.

Where?

I was blindfolded, blindfolded.

Not when you were using the needle.

It was out in the sticks.

Nothing around.

I get six blocks from here, I...

I might as well be in Iceland, might as well be in Iceland.

What kind of a tattoo job did you do?

They paid me a hundred, a hundred.

As an artist.

The answer's worth 20.

You won't believe it.

Try me.

It's a horse.

I tattooed a horse.

And then they made our friend lie down

in the back seat of the car until they drove into the barn.

That's when he saw the black horse.

They've changed his color.

It looks that way.

And then, uh, our friend

was shown a lip tattoo and asked to alter it.

They had their own needles, probably stolen from the race track.

Oh, uh, Mr. Green,

do you remember the, uh, tattoo registration number

on Sun and Sky?

2K178.

Well, that's it!

Well, you've found him!

And, uh, the tattoo artist

also gave me a pretty fair description of the men.

One of them was a fellow called Paddy Wright.

The other was a fellow called, uh, Sam Dallas.

Oh, now, Mr. Mannix. I find that hard to believe.

Sorry. It fits.

Yeah, Peggy?

The employment and military records

of the four men in the plane are here.

Oh, thanks. Bring it in, huh?

Sam Dallas would never take a horse for ransom.

Not Sam!

Thanks.

Now, don't be too sure about Sam Dallas, Mr. Green.

Now, these are the military records

on the four men in the plane.

Oh, by the way, Mrs. Green,

you mentioned that Dallas managed a horse farm someplace.

Do you remember where that was?

No. No, I don't.

Richmond, do you?

No. I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix.

Well, Sam Dallas has a black horse

with a new registration number.

Now, if my guess is right,

he'll try and ship him out as fast as he can.

But if we're lucky,

he's still somewhere in Quail Valley.

Somewhere in a 10,000-acre area.

Well, maybe these records will tell us something.

Hmm.

Two of the men had Air Force training as pilots.

V.J. Stander, fighter pilot,

transferred to multiengine in '66.

Stu Marshall, never in military service.

Floyd Brand...

Floyd Brand...

Bomber pilot until October, 1954,

now carries commercial ticket!

Floyd!

Yeah, that's our parlay, Mr. Green,

Sam Dallas and Floyd Brand!

Now, let's see if any of these places of previous employment

on Brand sound familiar to you, huh?

1957 to 1961, Jay-Mist Farms.

Kentucky.

1961 to '63 Hialeah Race Track,

1963 to August '64, Fleetway Stables.

Ooh, that's just outside San Francisco.

1964 August to January 1965, Crown Ranch.

I think that's it, Richmond, Crown Ranch.

Yes, I believe it is.

Yes, Quail Valley!

Crown Ranch and Quail Valley...

Well, that ought to give us enough to go on.

Yeah, well, now, Mr. Mannix,

even if Floyd Brand does have a pilot license,

wasn't he full of chloral hydrate when that plane landed?

No.

No, not until after it landed.

Now, the way I figure it, he doctored that coffee,

then pretended to pass out.

He just waited there on the floor

until everybody else was unconscious,

got into Stu Marshall's pilot seat

and landed the plane.

Then he put the chloral hydrate

into his own coffee, drank it and passed out,

while his pals unloaded Sun and Sky off the plane.

Did you ever see anything like him, Floyd, ever?

Ever?

No, sure haven't.

You go get that bridle.

Don't you think I ought to go get the pony?

You know he ain't gonna load without him.

No, Paddy will bring in Alexander.

You just go get that bridle.

Pay dirt.

Easy, boy.

Ooh, easy, Alexander.

Attaboy.

Hey, Whitey!

I'm gonna get the pony.

Haha-ha! Haha!

Dallas!

Dallas!

The pony!

Hey, get the pony!

Dallas!

Dallas!

And I was beginning to think you didn't get my message.

I got the message.

Richmond, you bought your way into horse racing.

You never really knew it.

You never sat up all night,

working down an ankle, swelling on your only horse's leg

so he could run the next day!

And you never sweated out a claiming race

or borrowed entry money.

And you wouldn't know about selling your watch

to pay the feed bill

for a bunch of outclass platers.

Sam... And, Richmond, the real bedrock

of horse racing is breeding.

You start with a stud horse like Sunny,

and you pick your broodmares

so as to build a perfect line.

It's a natural...

Fine-breeding, good- size, easy-moving.

He's everything I ever dreamed of

and couldn't pay for.

He was Sam Dallas's only chance

to make his mark in the world.

Sam...

Richmond, you don't understand.

You never did, and you never will!

Hey, Dallas... Shut up!

Yeah, yeah.

Thanks, Mr. Mannix.