All language subtitles for Mannix S08E09 Picture of a Shadow.DVDRip.NonHI.en.CBS

♪♪

♪♪

Peggy, that call may
help pay for your salary.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Oh, yes, he is.
Who's calling, please?

Just a moment.

Joe... a Ray Jordan.

Ray Jordan?

Put him on.

Ray Jordan... now, there's
a voice out of the past.

How long has it
been, uh, four years?

Five?

Hey, what are you up to, Ray?

Ah. Well, what can I do for you?

Yeah, sure, if it's important.

In that case, I'll make time.

Yeah, where in the marina?

1400-D...

Mariner's Bay.

Got it.

Okay, I'll, uh, I'll be there...
oh, within the hour, huh?

Right.

Joe, we've got a
desk full of work to do.

Oh, yeah. Well, uh,

you'd better hop
right on it, Peggy.

Joe, who's Ray Jordan?

Well, I guess you could
call him a salesman.

He's into yachts now.

I helped him out of a
couple of scrapes in Korea.

He figures he owes
me a day on the water.

I'll call you, huh?

He figures you'll
probably buy a yacht.

In that case, I'll call
you from Honolulu.

♪♪

Well, I must admit, this is
the only way to live, Ray.

Kooky, isn't it?
When I quit the army

I spent a year feeling
sorry for myself.

Yeah, and came up
smelling like a rose.

Born to sell yachts.

I'm Raymond! Sail me!

Funny thing, Joe,
turns out I'm pretty good.

Hey, um, what do you
get for a tub like this, Ray?

$75,000.

But you're an old friend,

so I'll let you
have it for $90,000.

Well, now, that's
incredible. How did you know

that's exactly what I
had in my piggy bank?

Joe, I didn't bring you
out here to sell you a yacht.

I'm glad to hear that, Ray.

I was about to go into hock.

$25,000 would make an
acceptable down payment.

Uh...

what are you selling, Ray?

A chance for you to
pick up an easy 25 G's.

Is that why you
brought me aboard?

Long time since
we've seen each other.

Come on, Ray, you don't
have to con me. Shoot.

Pick it up a bit, Digger!

Right-o!

We'd better get some canvas up.

Well, Joe, interested?

- Well, fill me in and we'll see.
- Couple of weeks ago,

a big fella in the hotel
business was knocked off.

Yeah, Mark Bradford.

The Bradford chain is
offering $50,000 for information

leading to the arrest and
conviction of the hit man.

Hit man?

The papers said that
he walked in on a burglar

working his hotel suite.

That's not the way
it happened, Joe.

I can give you the killer.

- And we split the reward?
- Right.

Well, why split
with me at all, Ray?

A phone call'll get you
police headquarters.

Can't do that, Joe.

If I stay in the shadows
I... keep on living.

And that's worth paying
you half the reward money.

What's wrong?

Head for the harbor patrol!

Sorry, Joe, I don't buy
word one of Jordan's story.

Yeah, well, somebody bought it.

According to Cap St.
Rose over at the boatyard,

Jordan worked for
him... As a salesman.

Now, what's a guy selling yachts

doing with information
about Mark Bradford's death?

Trying to cash in on it.

Otherwise, why would he
bring me all the way down here?

Maybe he thought
he had something.

Well, if that's all it
was, why was he shot?

How would I know that?

Maybe he sold
somebody a leaky yacht.

Well, I still say you're gonna
find there's a connection

between the Bradford
murder and this shooting.

If I do, you win the
life-size teddy bear.

Come on, I'll take
you to your car.

Joe Mannix.

Yeah, what's the message?

Did she leave a name?

How long ago did she call?

Thanks.

This is Joe Mannix.
Uh, can I help you?

- I can help you, Mr. Mannix.
- How?

With information about
Ray Jordan's murder.

Who are you?

Ray made you an offer,
didn't he? Today on the boat.

Did he?

Yes.

I'm making you the same offer.

Well, it's a little tough
to deal on the telephone.

Where are you?

Are you interested?

I'm interested. Where are you?

27308 Amber Road.

It's on the beach, a mile
south of Paradise Cove.

Okay, that's where you are.

Now, you mind telling
me who you are?

You'll know when you get here.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Come on, let's
get her out of here!

How you feeling, Joe?

Uh, just super.

Maybe the doc
should check you out.

Later.

You don't feel you
were set up, huh?

Now, who's gonna kill
two people just to sap me?

Although that makes
about as much sense

as anything else
that's happened today.

That's where you found
her, huh, in there on the bed?

- Yeah, facedown.
- How close did you get to her?

Uh, edge of the bed.

You're sure, Joe, she was dead?

Okay, okay.

But why sap you and do a
disappearing act with the body?

I mean, if it was a frame,
they would've left the body

and your fingerprints
all over the woodwork.

Yeah. Whoever did
it, tore this place apart

looking for something...
Something worth $50,000.

The car outside is
registered to Carol Britton.

Carol Britton, the photographer?

She's one of the top
photographers in the country.

I've-I've seen her
stuff in Newsworld.

What would a girl like Carol
Britton fit into a shakedown...

and with a boat
hustler like Ray Jordan?

I don't know, Joe,
but the car is hers,

the house is in her name.

This stuff is hers, too.

Oh.

There she is.

Carol Britton.

She's beautiful.

And famous and talented.

And dead.

How are we doing, Perry?

Ah, not getting too much.

Well, they probably
wore gloves anyway.

Well, let's go.

Joe?

Huh?

Let's go.

Yeah, I know.

It's always tougher when
they're young and beautiful.

You don't just
pick up a telephone

and replace a Carol
Britton, Mr. Mannix.

We'll be hunting
for a long time.

Lieutenant Malcolm tells me

you found Carol's body
out at her beach house.

Yeah, that's right.

And that you're a
private investigator.

Right again.

I don't quite understand.

It's usual for a man to
be retaining your business,

isn't it, Mr. Mannix?

It's usual.

Do you have a client?

Yes.

Miss Britton.

Carol had that effect
on people she met.

I never met her.

But you were at her house...
- 00 in the morning.

Yeah, she called me and said

she had some information
on the Bradford killing.

Bradford? The hotel man?

That's what she said.

But why would she call you?

You'd never met.

I mean, if she had anything to
hide on the Bradford shooting,

she would have
called the police.

I guess I was a better
bet than the police.

Bet?

Well, the hotel people
offered a 50 grand reward

to whoever turned up Mark
Bradford's killer or killers.

Miss Britton offered
to split it with me.

The reward?

Mm.

25 for her end, 25 for mine.

I don't believe it.

Not a damn word!

I knew Carol.

For how long and how well?

Three years and very well.

From the day she came in
this office and hit me for a job.

She sat right there in
the chair you're sitting in.

Ah, not what we want.

It's too local.

That's not bad.

How did a nice girl like you get

in the locker room
at the Super Bowl?

I walked in.

Nobody stopped you?

Nobody usually
stops me, Mr. Larsen.

And nobody ever did.

She walked in on the world
with a camera in her hand,

and nobody stopped
her, Mr. Mannix, ever.

Till last night.

Right.

What about men in her life?

I never knew about them.

Carol was a very private person.

Friends?

Well, the shop is full of them.

Mr. Larsen... Oh, excuse me.

That's all right,
Jim. Come on in.

Mr. Mannix, this is Jim Barnard.

He's in charge of our photo lab.

- Jim.
- How do you do?

I just need your okay
on those hurricane prints.

These are fine, Jim.

Thank you.

Mr. Mannix found Carol.

Oh. I still can't get myself
to believe it happened.

Carol was one hell of a lady,
Mr. Mannix, you can believe it.

I do.

You with the police?

No. Private.

I certainly hope you
nail whoever killed her,

because they don't
make ladies like her twice.

You can believe that,
Mr. Mannix. I know.

I was there to see it.

In Vietnam, in the outskirts of
a little city called Quang Tree.

Ah, I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't...

Oh.

Lady, what are you
doing in my shell hole?

My shell hole, soldier,
and what I'm doing in it is...

Praying!

And apparently, not hard enough.

This is some war, huh?

Why don't they make these things

with hot and cold
running beer, something?

Are you... what, are
you a correspondent?

Yeah, Newsworld.

Newsworld. Hmm.

I know you now.

You're the lady
with the beautiful...

camera.

I didn't see Carol
again till after the war.

She was doing a feature
on a veterans' hospital,

and I was there.

She spotted me and
the crutch I was on.

Anyway, a year
ago, when I got out...

She twisted my arm

to take him on
as a lab assistant.

Like I said, Mr. Mannix,
she was a lovely lady.

Get who killed her... for me.

See what I mean?

Carol was
everybody's dream girl.

She couldn't have been
mixed up in a shakedown.

Something's wrong somewhere.

You got the wrong
girl, that's all.

Yeah.

You said that Jim was in
charge of your photo lab?

That's right, he is.

Fast promotion.

I mean, for a G.I. just a
year out of the hospital.

He's a very competent guy.

Besides, I needed somebody
to move up into Bill Webb's spot.

- Webb?
- Jim's boss.

He was killed in a
hit-and-run accident.

When?

About three or four weeks ago.

Bill Webb was the finest
darkroom man in the business.

Nothing he
couldn't do with film.

Any trace of the
car that hit him?

No.

Well, thanks, Mr. Larsen.

By the way, uh,

what was the exact
date Webb was killed?

August 12.

August the twelfth, Art.

Oh, Webb's death could
be just a coincidence, Joe.

Just two days after
Bradford was shot.

It's too close.

The Webb file, Lieutenant.

Oh, thanks, Charlie.

Any arrests after the accident?

No.

Witnesses?

Yeah, a Chicano garage man
near the scene of the accident.

But I still don't
see the connection

between Bill Webb's death
and Bradford's murder.

Let's take a look
at the pattern, Art.

Now, Ray Jordan had
some information to sell

on the hotel tycoon, Bradford,
and he was killed on the boat.

Carol Britton sounded

as if she wanted a piece
of the reward action,

and she was
killed... same night.

The beach house.

Bill Webb, uh, worked
with Carol Britton

at Newsworld... in the lab.

He was killed... hit-and-run.

Now, the chain has got
to start with Bill Webb.

Ah, I suppose you could
build a chain out of it, but, uh...

But there's always Art Malcolm's

little old law of
coincidence, right?

Show me a reason to repeal it.

I'll try and dig you up one.

Sure, I saw the whole thing.

Well, can you
tell me about it...

You know, the make
of car, uh, anything?

I already told the cops.

It's all in the report.

You know, it-it was too
dark over there to be sure.

No streetlight.

You know, some dumb
kid must have broke it.

This guy was
crossing the street.

The car came out of
nowhere, man. Wham!

Knocked him maybe 50 feet.

Came out of nowhere, huh?

Mm-hmm.

Are you saying

that the car didn't
have its headlights on?

Hey.

I never thought about that.

Look, the lights were on

when he was hit.

I wouldn't have seen
anything otherwise.

You didn't see the headlights
approaching the man?

Maybe I wasn't
looking until the sound.

Now you told me you saw
the man crossing the street.

Well, if so, you had to see
the headlights if they were on.

Maybe I...

I didn't see them,
but I just figured,

you know, they had to be on.

Well...

thanks for talking to me.

Long day?

Any calls?

Only a few of your
impatient clients

wondering what
Mr. Mannix is doing for them.

Yeah, well, I'll get
to them tomorrow.

What are you doing, Joe?

Shouldn't you be
on your way home?

I just left.

Good night, Peg.

See you in the morning, Joe.

Mannix.

Hey, Mr. Mannix,
this here is Miguel,

the guy you talked to.

Right. The auto shop.

Look, man, about the hit-run...
I think I got something for you.

What is it, Miguel?

It's my pal from Oxnard.

He-he's got a
body shop up there.

Couple of weeks ago,

this guy brought in a big
sedan with front-end damage.

L.A. registration.

Are you with me?

What makes you think
it's a hit-and-run car?

Jose was taking off
the broken headlight,

and he found a little
piece of suede leather.

The guy who was hit was
wearing a jacket like that.

I was the first one to him.

I know, man.

Can Jose describe the
man that brought the car in?

For bread he can.

Enough bread.

Where can I talk to him?

Jose and me got to
pick up some chicks,

but if-if you don't waste
any time, we'll be here.

1121 Pullmer...

out in the Valley.

Right.

Okay, Miguel, you did good.

Now go on home and forget it.

Oh, M... Miguel?

You have a nice little
family, haven't you?

I'm sure you wouldn't want
anything to happen to them,

would you?

Let's try a dry run.

One.

And two.

And whammo!

♪♪

Miguel?

Anybody home?

Honest, Mr. Mannix,
I didn't want to do it.

I told the man no.

You did make the call, Miguel.

You did set me up.

I didn't have any
choice, Mr. Mannix.

They held a gun to my head.

They said they
would hurt my kids.

I want to know who they are.

I never saw them before.

Honest, Mr. Mannix.

They didn't tell me their names.

You can describe them.

What do you mean by that?

You saw them, didn't you?

Señor, my kids.

They say they will hurt my kids.

Okay, Miguel, forget it.

I'm sorry.

You are off duty?

Ten minutes ago.

Sorry I kept you waiting.

Cheers.

Joe, level with me.

What is this
public service kick?

What do you mean?

I mean, if you were in it for
the Bradford reward money,

I could understand it.

$50,000.

- That would be nice.
- But that's not it, right?

Art, someone is
trying to kill me

or hasn't that gotten
through to you?

Yeah.

Now, what do you
say we start to work?

Where do you want to start?

Start.

Mark Bradford.

Well, I buy the
surprised burglar.

Several valuable
pieces were taken

from Bradford's hotel suite,

and that joint was ransacked.

Oh, no, no, no, if Ray Jordan
had something on the burglar,

he would've turned him in
and collected the reward.

He wouldn't have offered
me half the loot to front for him.

All right, if the burglary
evidence was a cover,

tell me where we are.

What do you know
about Mark Bradford?

I know what everybody knows.

He was a self-made man.

He started in the hotel
business as a bellhop,

and the chain he left behind is
one of the biggest in the world.

Money problems?

None that showed up,

and with a partner
like Lyle Kilburn,

how could he have
money problems?

Kilburn?

I just dug that up this morning.

Thanks a lot.

I don't know what
difference he makes anyway.

Oh, you don't, huh?

Kilburn is only up
on a felony charge.

All right, he was a bad boy.

He got in a jam with the
SEC and he perjured himself.

He's still one of the
richest men in the state.

Art,

where is Kilburn's present
home away from home?

Federal Correctional
Institution at Beauville.

This may look like a
country club, Mr. Mannix,

but when you're shut up in
here, you know it's a prison.

You seem to be taking
it well, Mr. Kilburn.

Not getting a lot
of sleep lately.

Why not?

My partner's murder.

I hear the police
think it was a burglar.

There are a lot
of burglars in here.

One of them probably has
an ice pick with my name on it.

Are you telling me

that you believe Mark
Bradford was a contract hit?

A contract with two
names on it, Mr. Mannix,

Mark Bradford's and mine.

The syndicate wants
Bradford Hotels International.

And Bradford wouldn't deal?

Neither would I.

See, the hotels were
more than property to Mark.

They were his life.

I understood that.

I'm not certain he
would've chosen

to die for them.

I know damn well
I don't want to.

I take it you don't have
the same sentiments

for the hotels that
your partner did?

No, not really.

Then you would sell, right?

No, Bradford
Hotels International

is not going to become
a worldwide laundry

for their tainted money.

I gave Mark my solemn word

when they made their offer.

I'd say you have a problem.

Joe, there really
are some things here

you must take care of.

Yeah, later, Peggy; I
just came by to change.

Then where?

I'm going over to
Carol Britton's place.

I think you've got the number.

What's there, Joe?

Maybe some answers.

Joe,

did you know her

a long time ago?

Larsen over at Newsworld
asked me that same question.

No, I didn't know her.

First time I ever saw her
was in that photograph

the night she was killed.

Strange,

a girl you're never going
to be able to meet or talk to

or take to dinner,

yet you think about her.

You know it's a
waste of time and yet...

♪♪

♪♪

Who are you?

Lieutenant Malcolm.

Come in, Lieutenant;
I'm Carol Britton.

Mannix gave me the
gist of it on the telephone.

You were on a boat down
in Mexico for three days?

Yes, La Paz and Cabo San Lucas

with friends, Brian
and Mimsy Sinclair.

We'll have to check on that.

I hope you understand,
Miss Britton.

Of course. They live
in the Malibu Colony.

Number 87.

They're in the book.

You didn't know
anything about the murder

until you got back,
is that correct?

No, not until
Mr. Mannix told me.

You didn't hear a news
broadcast on the radio?

No, it's a little hard to
pull in an American station

- from the Cape, Lieutenant.
- Art, uh,

there's something you
ought to look into right away,

something I didn't know
when we called you.

It's about the other girl.

You know who she
might have been?

Yeah, I'm pretty sure
it was Vera Webb.

Any connection with the Webb

that used to work
with you at Newsworld?

She was his wife.

They've been separated
about six months.

Why was she staying here?

Well, she asked to stay
with me for a few days

after Bill was killed
by a hit-and-run driver.

She still cared for him

even though they
weren't living together.

Miss Britton, is there...

is there any possibility
that Mrs. Webb was killed

by someone who
mistook her for you?

Yeah, that notion has been
suggested to me, Lieutenant.

Did she look like you?

No, not really.

Did anyone know
she was staying here?

Not that I know of.

That was Vera's whole purpose
for coming here, to get away.

Lieutenant, who
would want to kill me?

Or Vera?

Carol, did you ever have any
contact with Mark Bradford?

Well, I wouldn't
exactly call it contact.

What does that mean?

I was at the Bradford
Hotel when he was shot.

I was covering a
Japanese Industrial Exhibit

for Newsworld.

When I came out,
I saw some people

kind of gathering
around an ambulance,

so I grabbed a couple of shots.

It was more or
less out of instinct.

But I-I've never seen
Bradford before in my life.

First time through the
range-finder in my camera,

dead.

Well,

I'll appreciate it

if you'll come down to my
office in the morning, Miss Britton.

- Certainly.
- I've got to get back downtown now.

Oh, thank you, Miss Britton.

You coming, Joe?

I-I'll see you later, Art.

But there has to be a motive.

You're a detective.

Doesn't there have
to be a motive?

I mean, you don't
simply kill someone

because she lives
in a beach house.

Or is this the year for it?

From all you read in
the papers these days,

this could be the
year for anything.

And why did they
take her body away?

Well, the police
thought you were dead.

Maybe the killer figured
he'd get another crack at you

before they found
out their mistake.

Ooh, is my hysteria showing?

A little.

Doesn't it ever stop, Joe?

What's that?

The killing.

Can try to stop it.

How?

Let's start with Mark Bradford.

You said you were
at the Bradford Hotel

when he was killed.

Yes.

And you said that
people were crowding in.

Yes.

Hey, wait a minute.

Do you suppose I might
have caught someone

in one of my shots... I
mean, the murderer?

Well, whoever killed Vera
Webb ripped your place apart

looking for something.

Yeah, and I'm
not the kind of girl

who keeps diamonds
in her mattress.

Maybe it was worth more
than diamonds to the killer.

A negative.

Yeah, that's where
I'm putting my money.

Vera Webb called me
the night she was killed.

She had information...
Or so she said...

About the Bradford murder.

What information?

She didn't get to tell me.

Did Vera know a man named
Ray Jordan... a boat salesman?

Yes.

How well did she know him?

Well, she was...

she was living with
him when Bill was killed.

Uh, she felt really
badly about it

and it was a mess.

Where is Ray now?

Where Vera is.

Dead?

The three of them?

Vera and Bill and Ray Jordan.

And Bradford.

Don't forget Bradford.

Carol.

What?

I've, uh, got a feeling that
someone is very disappointed

that you and I aren't in
the obituary column, too.

Do you suppose he'll keep
trying till he puts us there?

I'm afraid so.

What do we do, Joe, wait?

I'm terrible at it.

Maybe we could
switch games on him...

make him play our game.

Does it have a name?

Yeah.

What?

Target.

I don't like it, Joe.

Cheese... that's what
you're using her for.

Supposing the
guy smells the trap.

Oh, he won't if he doesn't see
your big feet under the drapes.

Miss Britton, I don't care
where Mannix sticks his neck,

but I don't want
you risking yours.

Oh, but, Lieutenant,
you'll be right behind us

if anything happens, won't you?

Way behind.

Montego is third,
Breakaway is fourth.

And here comes Red Sand.

Red Sand getting
through on the rail.

It's Red Sand now
getting the lead by a head.

Katy's Trim on the
outside in second.

They're in the stretch now

with Katy's Trim on
the outside in front.

By a head, Red Sand is second.

It's now Red Sand in front.

Red Sand and Katy's Trim.

Red Sand is going
out in the front.

It's Red Sand now
going on to winning it.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

I know we've been
doing this all night,

but, uh, whose
benefit was that for?

Ours.

I knew it.

That's why it was so great.

♪♪

- Carol.
- Very touching.

Now, just maintain
that position.

Well, the Beauville
slammer must have

some far-out ideas
on prisoner recreation.

The guard captain and I have
an agreeable arrangement.

And profitable for both of you.

Very profitable.

Captain gets a big hunk of cash

and, uh, you get to
knock off Mark Bradford.

With a perfect alibi.

You never left the country club.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Hmm.

I thought the syndicate
wanted the Bradford Hotels.

Oh, I am the syndicate, Mannix.

Three more months in the
rigid confines of Beauville

and the big gate opens.

I take over... everything.

Unless a certain picture
falls into the wrong hands.

Miss Britton?

I don't know what picture
you're talking about.

Miss Britton, you're not going
to pretend that I didn't show up

in one of those pictures
you took at the Bradford.

I don't know.

Outside the hotel...

you aimed your camera
at Bradford's body

as they put him
in the ambulance.

Now, what about those?

I'm not sure, I didn't see them.

You're lying.

Your lab man Bill Webb showed me

what he cropped
out of your pictures.

There happened to be a
remarkably good likeness of me

getting into a car
in the background.

Your Mr. Webb wanted a
sizable piece of money for it.

Now...

do I get to know where
you've hidden that negative?

Or do I spoil that pretty face?

Hold it, chum.

Don't be stupid, Kilburn.

Am I being stupid, Miss Britton?

Joe.

It's all right, honey, he
can't afford to kill you.

Can't I?

Can he, Joe?

No, 'cause if he does,

he'll never get that
negative he's after,

and when it does turn
up, the cops will nail him,

so he's got to deal.

Oh, I can take a
chance it won't turn up.

No way, Kilburn, not
when I tell you who's got it.

Who's got it?

Deal?

All right, what's the deal?

First get the ape to take
the cannon out of my back.

Arnold.

Don't trust him, boss.

Put the gun down, Arnold.

Yeah, but, boss...

Arnold was right.

I shouldn't have trusted you.

Well, I guess that
just about does it.

One for the road, Lieutenant?

Oh, no, I'm still on duty.

Some other time, I hope.

Thanks anyway.

Joe, are you...?

Forget it.

I knew you were a great
photographer and beautiful.

Now it turns out you also
make a perfect martini.

As the French would say...

that is formidable.

Yeah, but I'm a lousy cook.

You know what?

You're pretty
formidable yourself.