Original subtitles

Saint? St. John?

Wake up, Saint! Can I trust you?

- What's going on? - Can I trust you?

- Uh, I... - Just answer me!

- ♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪ - You can trust me, Papa.

I fucked up.

I fucked up so-- so badly.

- Is Mom okay? - Listen to me.

Remember, back in Mexico, I told you I worked

- for the State Department? - Uh-huh.

I was CIA. Station Chief of the Mexico City office.

- What? - I'm a spy.

A job just went FUBAR. Top secret for the White House.

- And my people got arrested. - How could you not tell us?

I need your help.

Things could get hairy for me real quick.

I need you to do whatever I ask without question.

Can I trust you?

Of course, Papa.

Good boy.

Get Windex and gloves.

Okay.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Mm.

How was work?

Ooh! Comme ci, comme ça.

There is a chance I will be going to prison.

Wait, what?

Don't worry.

Go back to sleep. Kids'll be up soon.

Oh, now, where are those little soaps I got you

from the Watergate?

- They may be used as evidence. - ♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Hurry!

Fuck! Squat down!

Make it look like we're fixing a flat.

Thank you!

Get the sides, the bottom.

- Wipe down everything. - Yes, Papa!

All over! No prints. Keep rubbing.

Good. Wipe it all down.

- Why the typewriter? - The less you know the better.

Okay. Grab everything. Hurry.

Never tell anyone that you did this,

or we're both in big trouble.

My boy. My boy, my boy.

Oh. Hotel key.

It's the little things.

Oh, we didn't wipe that down!

♪ (THEME MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

♪ (THEME MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

♪ (MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Turn to your right.

Turn to your right.

-No sé. Derecho.

Derecha.

Turn to your right, please.

No sé, señor.

Turn to your right.

- Do you speak English? - Yeah.

Turn to your right.

Gracias. - You're welcome.

Fore!

Goddamn it.

Mr. Kleindienst? - ♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Hello?

I am behind the tree to your right.

My name is Gordon Liddy.

I'm the Head Counsel

for the Committee to Re-Elect the President.

What the hell are you doing on my golf course?

Five men were arrested last night at the DNC.

They were conducting a clandestine intelligence

- gathering operation. - I heard.

McGovern is floundering.

What kind of morons break into the goddamn DNC?

Those men work for me.

Oh, hell.

One of the men, Jim McCord, is Head of Security

for the Committee. Oh, fuck.

Does Mitchell know?

I did not take over this job just to clean up his bullshit.

Yes.

In fact, Mr. Mitchell has a request.

If you could get McCord released immediately,

we would be-- On what grounds?

Are you all out of your minds?

Do you have any idea what something like this

could do to the president?

Sir, if the world finds out that the Head of Security

for the Committee was arrested, think about what that would do

- to the president. - Oh, Christ.

McCord has fake ID.

But as a former FBI agent, he has his fingerprints on file,

so it's only a matter of time before they find out

who he is and where he works.

What the fuck did you people think

you were doing in there?

Saving the country from communism, sir.

The clock is ticking.

By my count, we have 48 hours before they figure out

- who he is. - ♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

I stake my reputation on that.

Your turn.

Come on. Oh, sí, sí.

So interesting.

Name? - Eat shit.

- Address? - I wanna speak to my attorney.

Phone number?

I wanna speak with my attorney.

Okay, let's start from the top. Name?

Look, Mr. Martin, I'm trying to help you out.

Just tell us your real name, or bail's gonna be

100 grand at least.

I want to have an attorney present.

Jim?

Jimmy?

- Wait, you know this guy? - Yeah, this is Jim McCord.

He does security for John Mitchell.

- No. Not anymore. - Wow, really?

- Hey there, Ted. - Hey.

Jim McCord. Thanks, Ted.

Yeah, thanks, Ted.

Could you spell your last name for me?

Yes, A-T-T-O-R-N-E-Y.

The perfect French omelet is baveuse.

Now, where are the chives?

We have, uh, oranges, pickles, oyster stew, olives,

no chives.

When do we ever have oyster stew?

We have everything. We have tomato juice,

but we have no goddamn chives!

- It's okay, Papa. - So stupid.

Don't worry about it. I don't need...

- I don't need chives. - Okay. Fine. Fine!

It'll be fine. It's fine without the chives.

It's fine. Um.

Okay. You remember, my, um,

my, uh, teacher,

um, at my old school, the one who, um--

Yes, I remember.

Well, I told Mama about it, and then the next day,

he, uh, vanished.

Your mother told me what had happened.

And that night, I threw two, three guns into the car.

And your mother got scared, called the school to warn them,

and the pervert stole off into the night.

- Were you gonna kill him? - Kill who?

What are you doing here?

Why aren't you dressed and showered?

It's Saturday. I don't go in till 3:00.

Saturday.

Right! Saturday.

I'm gonna make you an omelet.

Hunt residence. Of course, there's no chives.

Howard Hunt, please. Mm-hmm.

Yep. One second. For you.

Howard Hunt here.

This is Bob Woodward from The Washington Post.

Yes. Yes, what is it?

I was just kind of wondering

why your name was on an envelope found on one of the men arrested

- at the Watergate? - Good God.

Do you care to comment?

In view that the matter is under adjudication,

uh, I have no comment.

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

- Wrong number. - What? They asked for you.

I'm going to be in my office all day.

Don't answer it!

And if anyone comes to the house, I'm not here.

Good evening.

We have a mystery story out of Washington.

Five people have been arrested and charged with breaking

into the headquarters of the Democratic National Committee

in the middle of the night.

Among those five persons

apprehended at the Watergate was this man.

James W. McCord, a former CIA employee

who now owns his own private security firm.

And guess what else he is?

A consultant to President Richard Nixon's

re-election campaign committee.

♪ (SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Gordon!

Morning, Jeb.

How's tricks?

Gordon, this whole thing is exploding.

I'm getting calls from the FBI.

Why are you shredding money?

The cops found cash with sequential serial numbers

on our guys.

Ergo, they can trace it back to the bank and to us.

Cuban imbeciles were supposed to use it

as bribe money.

I'm sorry, are you shredding soap?

You have used up your daily quota

of moronic questions, you towel snapper.

And it is only 9:17 a.m.

You're our chief counsel! I need to know what to do here!

Get the fuck out!

My legal advice to you is to hire your own attorney.

Then what in the high holy fuck are we paying you for?

Jeb...

I want you to know something.

This maelstrom of shit we are in right now...

it's all your fault.

I have to call a lawyer.

Now, you're getting it, Dummkopf.

Oh, my God.

Mr. Hunt. This is the FBI.

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Mr. Hunt.

Let's come back.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Earlier today,

the White House Press Secretary, Ron Ziegler, had this to say

about the Watergate break-in.

My remark yesterday,

regarding a third-rate burglary attempt, related to the fact

that I wasn't gonna comment every time someone tries

to break in somewhere, and I'm gonna reject

every attempt in questioning to inject this matter

into the White House.

Merci.

Bonjour, oui.

I'd like to place an international call.

- Mama? - Hey, honey, it's early.

Go back to sleep, okay? Yes, I'll hold.

Were you followed?

Undoubtedly.

But I lost them.

Excellent.

Nice bomb shelter.

Thanks. It came with the house. Hurry up!

Did you hear that child, Ziegler?

Called it a third-grade burglary.

Right this way.

FBI paid me a little visit today.

- Oh! And what did you tell them? - Well, I didn't answer the door.

I'm, uh, laying low, playing it cool.

Do not answer that!

It's probably Dorothy,

but I just can't bring myself to talk with her.

Good. Because your phones are tapped by now.

Bastards. They don't tap my phone!

I tap their goddamn phones!

That is my métier. Here.

Hmm.

How much cash do we have left? Zero.

I shredded it.

You shredded our money?

The money was a direct link to the Committee.

- What else could I have done? - Well, I don't know.

Hide it, bury it, launder it. You do not shred money!

Christ! This is all McCord's fault.

Why did he leave that tape?

Do not panic.

We will figure this out.

I'm as cool as a polar bear's privates, amigo.

The guy shredding money is the one who panicked.

Let it ring!

Did you talk to Dean? We need more money.

Shall I get that?

- Do not pick up! - Why are you having a freak-out?

You're not strapped for cash, are you?

Not me.

The Cubans. They need to take care of us.

- Um, them. - Listen to me.

Well, if you come under pressure,

you just say

you worked for me.

'Cause I can take whatever these SOBs

- can dish out. - I do not work for you, Gordon.

What are you gonna say?

That you worked for the White House?

- They better take care of us. - They will.

Now, you and I just need to keep our mouths shut

'til after the election.

Then Nixon can pardon us without so much

as a second thought and we are home free.

Nixon is a man who values loyalty.

You're goddamn right he does.

Oh, uh, should I take the bookcase, Dr. No,

or is there a trap door?

♪ (UPBEAT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Two former White House aides

with electronic receiving devices

were in the room

of the Watergate Hotel on the early morning

of June 17th, when five men with bugging gear

were found in Democratic headquarters here

in the Watergate building.

The men are G. Gordon Liddy,

at that time counsel to the Finance Committee

to Re-Elect the President.

And E. Howard Hunt, a former White House consultant.

Mrs. Hunt! Mrs. Hunt!

Mrs. Hunt, have you seen your husband?

What do you know about the break-in at the DNC?

Mrs. Dorothy Hunt, Agent Dwyer, Agent McNeil, FBI.

What is happening? Kevan, take David inside, okay?

This is private property. Let's go.

Mrs. Hunt, we'd like a word with your husband,

but we've been unable to track him down.

I'm sorry, I've been in Europe. I haven't heard from my husband.

- He could be anywhere. - Well, if you do see him,

could you please tell him to call us?

If I see him.

Howard!

Oh, bonjour, Kev!

How was your month in Paris?

Oh, by the way, do not answer the phone.

W-- is Papa okay?

- Hey! Look who's here! - Papa!

Anyone for pancakes? Chocolate chip!

Why is the FBI here?

Oh, well, they just wanted to ask me a few questions,

but I'm not feeling terribly chatty.

Of course, he's a spy.

But he's not a spy!

I am.

No. Don't you-- You work for the White House.

Think about it, Kev. It makes so much sense.

All the lies, all the manipulations,

all the mind games. God!

This entire time we believed that he just wrote

- shitty spy books. - They're not shitty.

Thank you, Saint. That might be my best review.

So, am I getting chocolate chip pancakes?

In a bit. First, I want a word with your father.

Yeah, it's a disaster.

You gotta talk to those guys in the morning.

Hmm. No, uh, tell them to talk to Haldeman about it.

- I don't want that on my desk. - Yeah.

- John! - Jesus, Gordon.

Are you the action officer in charge of damage control?

- You and I-- - Don't look at me.

Just look straight ahead.

You and I cannot be talking, Gordon.

The FBI is crawling up our asses.

I'm in contact with Director Gray.

We're on top of it.

- Are you? - Hmm.

They have Felt running the investigation.

Mark Felt was at the first Plumbers meeting.

- You're joking. - Oh, I wish I were.

Please tell me this meeting didn't take place

at the White House.

I wish I could.

Okay, Gray's our guy.

He'll ride herd on Felt and his FBI cronies.

You guys just need to keep your mouths shut.

You need to know something.

The DNC break-in is not the problem.

Our infiltration into Dan Ellsberg's

psychiatrist's office in Beverly Hills last year...

Ooh, that's the problem.

That order came from inside the White House.

You know what? You didn't tell me that.

Because this conversation never happened.

How does this thing keep finding ways to get worse?

Ehrlichman okayed it.

And worse.

Hunt and I are prepared to take the fall,

but we expect to be taken care of,

"company style."

Public disavowal, private funding.

I really hope that you understand

the scope and scale of this thing.

How dangerous this could be to the country,

to the president.

The Committee has a policy that every member

must cooperate fully with the investigation.

Therefore, I will be tendering my resignation tomorrow.

And if the president wants...

you just tell me what corner to stand on.

You hire a sniper and I will take the bullet.

I am prepared to die for this president.

Are you?

Go home, Gordon.

Get some sleep.

Name the time and the place.

Just make sure it's a clean head shot!

Oh, I will, Gordon.

What, d'you bring back the Eiffel Tower?

You've had a long flight.

Uh, how about I whip you up a few fluffy flapjacks?

What's going on, Howard?

We have eggs, we have bacon, we have, uh...

What have you done?

♪ (UPBEAT JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

It wasn't my fault.

I tried and tried to talk them out of going in again,

but Gordon kept pushing and pushing,

and that idiot McCord left the tape--

Our lives, Howard. Our house, our kids.

This was not the deal.

It's going to be okay. I-- I have a plan.

You take that stupid fucking apron off.

I can't even look at you.

Okay. We, uh, we take the kids to Florida.

We tell them we're going to Walt Disney World.

But uh, we-- we actually fly into Miami.

And there's that abandoned air strip

outside of Opa-locka, we-- we used in '61.

- Then what? - Then, we get Somoza to send

a Nicaraguan National Guard airplane.

And then what?

And then I do what I do.

I work with Nicaraguan intelligence.

Uh, liaise with the Company. Uh, it'll be like Mexico.

- You loved Mexico. - Do you hear yourself, Howard?

Do you hear how insane you sound?

You need a lawyer. We need a lawyer.

No!

Somoza owes me big.

You know what we did down there.

They all owe me, those greasy sons of bitches.

- They owe me! - If our salvation hinges

on a tin-pot dictator's sense of rectitude,

we are well and truly fucked, Howard.

I'll call a lawyer.

Thank you.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

Sweetheart, bring us some coffee

and some of those yummy Stella D'Oro cookies,

you-- you know?

- Yes, sir. - Thank you.

Anyway, as I was saying,

this has jumped from a misdemeanor

to multiple felonies.

Now, unless you've got some way of proving

that the Democrats bugged themselves...

...we have a problem, Howard.

You have to understand something.

I have never worked on US soil before.

When something goes wrong overseas,

they yank you out. They protect you.

What, then, is your endgame here?

I don't know. Uh, stay out of jail?

Hmm.

Liddy is meeting today with Fred LaRue,

the president's lawyer.

You mean, the president's bagman.

Well, I assume they will be discussing clemency.

The president will not forget us.

I'm not a betting man, but the odds of a pardon,

- uh, one in a thousand. - What kind of deal might he get?

Dot, please. I'm the client.

What kind of deal can I get?

With every passing day, the deal gets worse.

You play ball now,

I can probably keep you out of jail.

I am not naming names.

Let me be clear, I am not naming names.

- No names will be named. - So, it's a no on the names?

That doesn't leave me much to work with.

So, what, Howard? You're just gonna go to jail?

That's your plan?

- Well, no, that-- that's-- - No!

It's absolutely unacceptable.

I assume you're in communication with the White House lawyers.

- Now, hold on. Ma'am-- - You give them a message

from Howard.

You tell them loyalty is a two-way street.

I know how this game is played, and those spineless,

two-faced politicians need to hear it.

Dot, please, you can't just--

I was on the last train out of Shanghai in '49

with a .25 caliber strapped to my thigh,

dressed as a peasant.

If we're taking the fall, we're not going down alone.

You tell them.

- Understand? - Yes, ma'am.

Let's go, Howard.

I better go.

- We're looking for 2500. - ♪ (UPBEAT POP SONG PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

That's 2117, so a little farther. Keep going.

Why doesn't he wanna just meet you at his office?

LaRue cannot be seen with me. Nobody can.

That's why I'm taking the service elevator

up to his apartment.

And Howard thinks this a good idea?

He does. Unless Dorothy convinced him otherwise.

I would never ask you about your work.

I'm only driving because you asked me to.

I have it all under control.

Blame the whole break-in on the CIA.

And then they will deny it.

But no one's going to believe them

because they're a bunch of double-dealing

panty-sniffers.

And Dean will tell the FBI to stop the investigation

because it compromises national intelligence.

It's just really as simple-- Oh, fuck!

What is it, Gordon?

The president's lawyer's apartment is

at the Watergate. Oh, that is perfect.

- Should we go home? - Oh, no. Proceed as planned.

- Just take a left here. - Roger that.

Turn signals, turn signals. Sorry.

Don't forget I have a roast in the oven.

I'm reporting from Witches Island...

Mr. Bittman?

Good morning.

Good morning.

Morning.

So I spoke with the prosecutor who said he is willing, uh...

♪ ("CAMELOT" BY RICHARD BURTON PLAYING OVER STEREO) ♪

- ...to discuss the... - I am not naming names.

- Yeah, I know! - I say, I am not naming names!

- We can't hear a word, Howard! - The house is bugged!

Anything we say is protected under attorney-client privilege!

What?

As long as he's here, they can't use anything!

- I... - ♪ The winter is forbidden 'til December ♪

I know.

♪ And exits March The second on the dot ♪

You hear that, Felt?

I'm not naming names!

I, uh, I did come with a spot of good news.

Hmm.

A guardian angel of yours sent me

25,000 dollars in cash.

See? They do fear me. How soon can we get that?

Oh, you can't.

Uh, but my fees are covered for the time being

so that should be something of a relief.

Now, right after the cash arrived,

I got a call from a Mr. Rivers, who said he wanted to talk.

Okay, I'll need a secure phone.

Could you get our guest some cookies or something?

Well, he didn't wanna talk to you.

His exact words were, "I wanna talk

to the writer's wife."

- Me? - Her?

Mm.

I'm gonna need a secure phone.

Yes, of course.

Now, Howard, did you say something

about cookies?

They're in the cupboard, dear.

- Is chocolate chip okay? - Yeah.

Chocolate chip, Howard.

Yes, dear.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

This is Howard Hunt. What should I--

Put your wife on the phone, and wait in the car, Mr. Hunt.

It's for you.

Mr. Rivers? Yes.

Your husband's continued loyalty to his country is appreciated.

I'll send further instructions through Bittman. Stay tuned.

And what about the others?

The Cubans, Gordon Liddy? Cubans?

They'll be looked after. Liddy, he's on his own.

Just so we're clear, Mr. Rivers,

25,000 dollars is not going to cut the mustard.

It's chicken feed.

I understand. Just be patient.

My husband and I are as short on patience

as we are on money. Pass that along, Mr. Rivers.

Good day.

They wanted me to tell you how much

they appreciated your loyalty.

How gratifying.

There is going to be nothing for Gordon.

Sons of bitches.

We'll have to take care of him.

- How? Out of our end? - He's my partner.

Believe me. I know.

And we can't let him know that it's coming out of our cut

or he won't take it.

First things first, how do we spread

the money around?

Gordon and I are both under investigation.

I suppose I can handle that too.

♪ ("NIXON NOW RALLY SONG" BY MIKE CURB CONGREGATION PLAYING) ♪

♪ Reaching out to find a way ♪

♪ To make tomorrow A brighter day ♪

♪ Making dreams reality ♪

♪ More than ever Nixon Now for you and me ♪

♪ Nixon Now, Nixon Now ♪

♪ He's made the difference He's showed us how ♪

♪ Nixon Now, Nixon Now More than ever, Nixon Now ♪

♪ Listen, America, Nixon Now ♪

♪ ("GO ON WITH YOUR BAD SELF" BY EDDIE KENDRICKS PLAYING) ♪

♪ One for the money Two for the show ♪

♪ Light me up, darling See how brightly I can glow ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self ♪

♪ You're the switch That turns me on ♪

♪ Light me up, baby See how brightly I can burn ♪

♪ Burn, burn, burn, burn ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self ♪

Thank you.

♪ Everything that I require ♪

♪ From the top to the bottom Girl, you know you got 'em ♪

Fran. Hi, Dorothy.

Do you wanna come in and...

Thank you.

♪ I can burn All night long, long ♪

♪ Long ♪

♪ Oh, fire, fire When you speak my name ♪

♪ Raging higher You're the queen of my flame ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self Girl, you know you got it ♪

♪ Everything that I require ♪

♪ From the top to the bottom Girl, you know you got 'em ♪

♪ Every match That lights my fire ♪

♪ So light me up, baby See how brightly I can burn... ♪

♪ (SONG CONTINUES OVER CAR STEREO) ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Go on with your bad self Turn me on, baby ♪

I don't understand. What are we doing here?

For the 100th time, it's a goddamned fun

family outing. Stop touching the radio!

- See? Monuments. - ♪ ("SUNSHINE" BY JONATHAN EDWARDS PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

♪ She's gonna turn around ♪

♪ Brand-new bells Will be ringing ♪

Get in the back.

Can we get ice cream now?

Of course! Let's go.

What did you just take from under the phone?

Nothing.

Did you just use the fun family outing

to cover up some weird spy shit?

Absolutely not. Let's go, Howard.

- Bullshit! Bullshit! - Lisa! Enough.

Oh, okay, what are you gonna do, Mr. CIA?

You're gonna send me back to the insane asylum?

This family is living a charade of lies!

I said enough!

♪ ("THAT'S LIFE" BY JAMES BROWN) ♪

♪ That's life ♪

♪ That's what the people say ♪

This is all there was.

Goddamn it.

After Bittman, we are left with only 5,000.

Don't forget the Liddys.

♪ I'm gonna change that, too ♪

♪ When I'm back on top in June ♪

♪ Say that's life ♪

Oh, Mr. Hunt, you must know, the tennis courts are privileges

- for people... - Don, listen to me. I-- I--

- ...who have paid their dues. - I tried to send you a check.

- You have to leave, sir. - And someone didn't mail it!

Six months in a row, someone has forgotten

to mail your checks, sir.

You are embarrassing me in front of everyone!

I'm sorry I have to do this, sir.

But this is my job.

♪ Go down To the neighborhood bar ♪

It's not fair, Don.

It's not fair.

♪ ("DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME" BY THE MAMAS & THE PAPAS PLAYING) ♪

How's the soup, Jim?

Substandard.

Basically, hot tomato juice. Might even be ketchup.

The payments have stopped. I'm sorry.

Well, it's not surprising.

The money's the most incriminating thing.

I can't believe Mitchell would just abandon you.

- He seemed so-- - What? Loyal?

Hmm. Well, he had the Plumbers hire you

- after his wife, you know? - After Martha had me fired?

Yeah. He didn't do it out of loyalty.

He was afraid of what I know about his family.

That's all that motivates these people.

Fear and power. Mainly the fear of losing power.

But we're so close to the election.

You have to understand something, Dorothy.

These people we work for, their cause is righteous,

but their souls are...

- rotten. - Then why get involved?

The same as Howard. It's a job.

It's...

it's not a job to him. This, uh...

war against the Left.

It's like a religion.

Hmm.

Thanks for the soup.

The Democratic bugging case

is now in the courts.

But Mr. Nixon and his political operatives

have done what no Democrat could do.

Through their evasiveness and their delaying tactics,

they have made this case of political espionage

a major issue in this important presidential campaign.

Are you ready for the arraignment?

Can anyone ever be ready for an arraignment?

That's fair.

Got...

fired by Mullen this week.

Cowards.

My boss's son works at the DNC.

McCord tapped his phone.

- It's not funny. - Come on!

Dinner's served! Look at that!

- Oh, lovely... - You are in for a treat!

How about a toast to better days?

To better days.

Prost!

So, now, we just wait for Nixon to get re-elected.

Fingers crossed.

Well, e-- even then...

What are you trying to say there, Dot?

Well-- She's-- No. Nothing.

She's not trying to say anything.

No. I-- I was just saying, even if Nixon wins,

there's no guarantees that you all get pardons.

Right, Howard?

Go on, honey.

Tell them your idea.

Well, there-- there's plenty of time

for that after dinner. Few more drinks.

- Tell them, dear. - Here's the thing.

Uh, no matter what we say or don't say,

the story is going to come out.

So, why don't we tell our side and, uh, and make

- a tidy profit doing it? - Tell them how much.

Well, my agent thinks there'll be a bidding war.

And, uh, we're looking at half a million dollars.

- Maybe more. - What?

That much for a book?

Unequivocally...

no.

Wait. So, just no?

How the hell are we supposed to live?

Pay for lawyers, schools, groceries?

I've-- I've, uh, I've gone back to teaching.

Franny can stretch a chicken like nobody's business.

- We're fine. - Oh, you're-- you're fine.

This honor-among-thieves nonsense

all but guarantees your reputations

will be destroyed by others

who have far less to lose than you.

But you're fine.

Gordon, we will be laughed at as third-rate burglars forever.

Or with a flick of my typewriter,

we can restore our honor, right?

Right.

We were hired to win a goddamned election,

and to protect this country from the Reds.

So, please, tell me how writing a tell-all book will do that?

- Hmm? - Gordon, just consider it.

We never implicate the president.

We just tell our side.

People need to understand that we're not a bunch

of incompetent boobs, we're patriots

who are acting in the country's best interests.

- A book, huh? - A book.

Like that book

that you gave that pretty stewardess

on our way back from Los Angeles?

I-- I-- I don't, uh, recall any stewardess.

Well, she certainly recalled you, Mr. Hamilton.

Matter of fact, she saw your picture

in the paper. Hmm.

Called the FBI. Apparently, she received

a copy of your latest pot boiler and a nice handwritten note

on White House stationery.

On our children's lives, Dorothy, I have no recollection

of this alleged person.

Probably just a, uh, an admirer of my work.

Mm-hmm.

For those that need reminding...

my loyalty's is not for sale, and I am not the type...

to talk.

Don't.

No need for that.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Oh for Christ's sake, Gordon!

Do you two know where your money's

been coming from? Us. Not the White House, not CREEP.

From our own pockets. The Hunts!

- Did you know this? - ♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

I can show you the ledgers, down to the cent.

Do you know how much the White House,

and your beloved Führer Nixon put aside for you,

and your five children?

Zero. Nada. Nothing.

And now, we are broke.

Come on, Dot, that's not necessary.

Dead flat broke. They need to know, Howard.

The people we are protecting are bad people.

So let's drop this loyalty bullshit.

We are the only ones in this whole situation...

who've been looking out for you.

The food looked delicious, Fran.

Goodnight, Gordon.

I'm so sorry.

Sit down, Francis. It's dinner time.

And never apologize.

- Makes us look weak. - Right.

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Order, order.

Pre-preliminary hearing to be set

within ten court days. Thank you.

Charges are, one count of conspiracy,

two counts of burglary and three counts

of eavesdropping.

Would anyone care to be heard on bail?

No, your honor.

Bail is set at 10,000 dollars.

Gordon.

Gordon.

Pay the clerk the ten percent and you can go.

Blood from a stone.

Don't leave town.

Goes for you, too.

Oh, I'm not going anywhere.

My bail bondsman is also my mother.

Pay the man, Mother.

Gordon, can we talk? Come on.

Oh, Gordon! Gordon!

Would you care to make a comment?

How is everybody doing today?

Mr. Hunt! Mr. Hunt!

Howard, how does it feel to be called a third-rate burglar

- by the White House? - Mr. Hunt!

Come on, any comment? Any comment at all?

Would you like to make a comment for...

What part of no comment don't you understand!

Now, scram!

Pass on another message to the White House.

Politely remind them about what I have

in my safe on Fielding.

And if they don't come through with more money,

I'm going to blow them out of the water.

I know things about presidents past,

and present, and a little event in Dallas

that could tear this country apart.

I'll-- I'll pass it on.

Mama, are we in trouble?

You?

No. Why-- Why would you be in trouble?

What about Papa?

I don't know.

I am so sorry. This is all my fault.

You're all paying for my mistakes.

- No. - I should have put my foot down.

- I know better. And now-- - It's not your fault.

You know, I came back from Paris to leave him.

I've tried to leave him so many times.

And then the accident, I-- I didn't think Lisa

could handle the divorce. I'm so dumb.

Mama, it's okay.

- You kept the family together. - And here we are.

I know how seductive Papa can be.

What's that supposed to mean?

Oh, no-- nothing. Then what?

What-- What are you talking about?

We just, um, did some stuff together.

What stuff?

Um... I, uh, you know? Nothing, really.

I just helped him, you know...

clean-- clean some equipment. And, uh...

it-- it was microphones and-- and, uh,

tape-- tape recorders.

And, um, it was the morning after the arrests.

Oh, my God. He had you destroy evidence?

I don't know. It was his typewriter,

and... Mm-hmm.

Um, I-- We just threw it all into the river.

Thank you for-- for telling me.

You know, it's actually kind of far out.

We've been getting along a lot better lately.

Well, your father is always at his best when it's too late.

Go.

Here.

Make sure they give him fresh carrots.

He knows when they're fresh, okay?

Will do, Mrs. Hunt. Don't worry. They've got a fine new home.

Reporting from CBS News'

election headquarters in New York.

Here is correspondent Walter Cronkite.

We can now say on the basis

of our sample precincts from South Dakota

that Senator McGovern has not won his home state.

But President Nixon will win...

This-- This gives me hope! - ...South Dakota

when all the votes are in by 55 to 45 percent.

Whatever trials and tribulations I have been through...

it was worth it.

Have you met the president yet, Dad?

No, Son. But the president once gave a memo

- I wrote an A-plus. - What kind of memo?

Well, I suggested he replace J. Edgar Hoover

as head of the FBI.

And I felt that Hoover was lacking judgment,

and I questioned his loyalty.

The president called it the best memo he'd ever read.

- Wow. - Goddamn.

That was a hell of a memo.

Oh, goddamn it!

And there's the senator

approaching the podium.

Senator McGovern's speech tonight will most certainly be

the most effective

- of his whole campaign. - Oh, real effective, dummy.

Who did you vote for?

None of your business.

We need the president to win so that he can pardon Papa.

- What's a pardon? - Nothing.

And 496 electoral votes

in comparison to McGovern's two states

- resulting in 17... - Well, it was all for nothing.

- Come on, Dot. - Hmm.

All of your Watergate...

was for nothing.

What are you talking about? This-- Th...

...is a victory for America...

- Mm-hmm. - ...for democracy, for freedom,

for law and order and we are on the winning side.

- Now, Nixon can do it. - Oh, my God, Howard, wake up!

Nixon isn't going to do anything,

because now, he doesn't fucking have to.

And our whole world is broken.

Just like your stupid typewriter.

- Honey, trust me, Nixon-- - Oh, fuck Nixon!

♪ (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

- Your mother didn't mean that. - Sounded like she meant it.

Fresh cash is a hopeful sign. It means they care.

Sure.

Are you nervous about the trip?

It's just a quick stop in Chicago--

Howard, when I get back I'm taking David,

and we're leaving. I want a divorce.

Listen, I know-- I know I've made mistakes--

Save it, Howard.

Dorothy, please, I...

You know, there's something I never told you.

Back when we first got together, my station chief pulled me

into his office and showed me a file.

Your file.

They were concerned that your, uh, visceral hatred

of racism made you vulnerable to Communist recruitment.

- Idiots. - They gave me a choice.

Leave you or cut off all ties with any friends of mine

who were overt racists.

This is supposed to change my mind?

It was a lot of people!

You have always come first with me, Dot. Always.

And now, your partner is a Nazi.

Ex-partner.

That should tell you all you need to know

about the current state of our marriage.

You know, you're no angel yourself.

All that running around in Uruguay

with your Italian gigolo, Quagliotti.

Yeah. I found the letters. Real spicy stuff.

So, while you were screwing your way

through Latin America, I was supposed

to sit happily at home, changing diapers,

and knitting an American flag?

- ♪ (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) ♪ - On my worst day...

I would not have used one of our children...

to aid and abet in the felony destruction

of evidence.

What?

St. John told me about the typewriter,

and all the rest.

You tracked your shit into our house.

I am so sorry.

- I-- - I have a flight to catch.

I-- Let me help you carry your bag in.

Chivalry is the last thing I want from you right now.

Dorothy, please. It can't end like this.

It-- All because of a goddamn little piece of tape!

Oh, Howard...

our marriage ended 11 years ago on a beach in Cuba.

I have been holding this family together

with spit and glue, hoping you would come around.

But... I am done.

We're done.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

Mrs. Hunt, Michelle Clark.

Thanks for agreeing to speak in person.

Yes, of course.

Does your husband know you're talking to me?

Hi, there. Champagne? Thank you.

Thank you.

I don't need his permission.

Chicago approaching.

United 553, ten miles south with Uniform,

inbound for landing.

I kept meticulous records of the incoming funds,

and the disbursements. It-- Ladies and gentlemen,

we'll be landing in just a few minutes.

Please extinguish all cigarettes and put your seat backs

in an upright position.

It goes all the way into the White House.

- The Oval Office. - Why come forward now?

I'm doing this for my children.

People need to know they're the offspring

of a decorated patriot, not some...

bumbling third-rate burglar.

Yeah.

Flight attendants,

please prepare for landing.

Completely off the record, I assume you've heard

all the wild JFK rumors about your husband.

I have.

He was questioned about the assassination

by the Warren Commission.

And he told the Warren Commission

that on November 22nd, 1963, he was home with me,

making dinner.

Was he?

The truth is...

Howard was in--

♪ ("THE CANDY MAN" BY SAMMY DAVIS JR. PLAYING OVER RADIO) ♪

- ♪ Who can take a sunrise? ♪ - ♪ Who can take a sunrise? ♪

- ♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪ - ♪ Sprinkle it with dew ♪

♪ Cover it with chocolate and a miracle or two ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man ♪

Who wants pancakes?

David?

Lisa?

St. John, let's go!

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

- ♪ Who can take a rainbow? ♪ - ♪ Who can take a rainbow ♪

- ♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪ - ♪ Wrap it in a sigh ♪

♪ Soak it in the sun And make a groovy lemon pie ♪

♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can 'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes The world taste good ♪

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ The Candy Man Makes everything he bakes ♪

♪ Satisfying and delicious ♪

♪ Now, you talk About your childhood wishes ♪

♪ You can even eat the dishes ♪

- ♪ Oh, who can take tomorrow ♪ - ♪ Who can take tomorrow ♪

- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪ - ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪

♪ Separate the sorrow And collect up all the cream ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ Oh, the Candy Man can ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can 'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes The world taste good ♪

♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ The Candy Man Makes everything he bakes ♪

♪ Satisfying and delicious ♪

♪ Talk about Your childhood wishes ♪

♪ You can even eat the dishes ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

- ♪ Who can take tomorrow? ♪ - ♪ Who can take tomorrow ♪

- ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪ - ♪ Dip it in a dream ♪

♪ Separate the sorrow And collect up all the cream ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man ♪

- ♪ The Candy Man can ♪ - ♪ The Candy Man can ♪

♪ The Candy Man can 'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes The world taste good ♪

♪ Yes, the Candy Man can 'Cause he mixes it with love ♪

♪ And makes The world taste good ♪

♪ A Candy Man, a Candy Man ♪

- ♪ A Candy Man ♪ - ♪ Makes the world taste good ♪

♪ A Candy Man, a Candy Man ♪

♪ (SONG CONCLUDES) ♪