All language subtitles for Remington Steele s01e13 A Steele.eng

[Laura]
Try this for a deep, dark secret...

The great detective
Remington Steele?

He doesn't exist.
I invented him.

Follow...
I always loved excitement.

So I studied and apprenticed...

and put my name on an office.

But absolutely nobody
knocked down my door.

A female private investigator
seemed so... feminine.

So I invented a superior.

A decidedly masculine superior.

Suddenly, there were cases
around the block.

It was working like a charm.

Until the day he walked in...

with his blue eyes
and mysterious past.

And before I knew it...

he assumed
Remington Steele's identity.

Now I do the work,
and he takes the bows.

It's a dangerous way to live...

but as long as people buy it...

I can get thejob done.

We never mix business
with pleasure.

Well, almost never.

I don't even know
his real name.

[Rhythmic Beeping]

[Sustained Beep]

[Rhythmic Beeping]

[Woman Laughing]

[Chuckling]

You're in a bawdy mood tonight.

You're so tacky.

I love it.

Now?

You gotta be kidding.
It's so late.

You're right. I am tense.

[Chuckles]

What exactly would you
prescribe, Doctor?

Really?

Well, that is one proven cure.

[Chuckles]
No. Not there.

It's so cold.

And I'm in a warm mood tonight.

Not there either.
That's too dangerous.

Ah, you.

Where?

Oh. That does sound intriguing.

You've sold me. Yeah.

I'll see you there
in 15 minutes.

Okay.

Bye.

[Gagging]

[Whistling]

- [Doorbell Buzzing]
- [Whistling Resumes]

- [Buzzing Continues]
- Coming. Coming.

- [Buzzing Continues]
- Yes, yes, yes.

- Ah, Laura! You're early.
- I need to talk to you.

The need is mutual. But I was hoping dinner
tonight would provide ample opportunity.

That's another thing.
About dinner tonight...

- What is that smell?
- Smell? My new aftershave perhaps.

- I'm sure whatever's on your mind
can wait for a few more hours. - No.

It seems to be coming
from in here.

Laura, I'm prepared to accept responsibility
for any reprehensible thing...

I may have done, providing
I can do it over dinner tonight.

- What reprehensible thing?
- Well, surely the reason you're here is because...

I've insulted some client...

mislaid some piece of evidence,
committed some faux pas.

And then later, when we're both
suitably dressed and the mood is set...

I promise to become
a picture of repentance.

- Fair enough?
- Does this sudden urge to repent...

have anything to do with
the fact that your aftershave is burning?

What? [Sniffing]
No. Oh, no, no!

- You're cooking.
- Yes. So much for the element of surprise.

You're cooking dinner.
I never knew you cooked.

Uh-huh. I was counting on the shock
to weaken your defenses.

Well, I just assumed that dinner
meant some restaurant.

L-l... I don't know what to say.

Say yes and let me
make up the question.

- Oh, this is terrible.
- Actually, it's canard au vin rouge.

- The least you might do is taste it
before passing judgment. - No, no, no.

I meant you've gone to all
this trouble, and I came here to cancel...

because something's come up,
and I have to fill you in.

Cancel? You don't cancel
canard au vin rouge.

- [Doorbell Buzzing]
- Oh, damn, he's early.

Oh, damn, who's early?
Laura!

You don't have to call me Dr. Lindstrom,
Mr. Steele. Philip will be fine.

I really appreciate your letting me
come to your apartment like this.

If the hospital board of trustees ever found out
I went to see a private detective...

Do they really control the funding
of your clinic that completely?

I'm afraid so. The entire sleep disorders
project comes up for review next week.

Ah. Sleep disorders, yes.

About ten days ago, morphine
started disappearing from the drug cases.

Labs have been broken into. Records have
been destroyed. What is that smell?

It was canard au vin rouge
at one time.

But as you were saying, Doctor.

Then one of my best staff physicians,
Sheila Marcus, suddenly disappeared.

No call, no message, just gone.

- And you suspect she's responsible?
- Sheila?

No, I don't believe she's capable
of anything like that. Besides...

Her car still hasn't left
the hospital parking lot.

That's why when Miss Holt told me of your idea
of infiltrating the clinic to find out...

- Infiltrating, you say?
- But don't worry, Mr. Steele.

I'll make sure that no one knows
that you're not a real insomniac.

- And with Miss Holt posing as your physician...
- Ah.

Infiltrating your clinic as an insomniac
with Miss Holt posing as my physician.

Ah, yes, of course.
How could I forget?

I wonder if I could have a word with you
over the duck in the kitchen, Doctor.

Yes, of course, Mr. Steele.

I suppose it's difficult to find a good
insomniac this late on a Sunday afternoon.

An insomniac? For God's sakes, Laura,
I'm supposed to be Remington Steele.

Precisely. And if Remington Steele
checks into that clinic...

he can't help but become a target
for whoever's behind the trouble.

First you deflate my duck, and now
you want to cook my goose. Wonderful.

I thought you loved plunging
into the thick of things...

trusting your instincts,
living by your wits...

the true detective poised
at the edge of danger.

No need to quote me
so accurately.

How was I supposed to know you'd choose tonight
to dazzle me with your gourmet gifts?

- Hoisted by my own canard.
- Lindstrom's in trouble.

The man's career... his whole life...
is tied up into that clinic.

Can you really walk out there now
and tell him we simply refuse to help?

Well, what else can I say, except...

Ah!

- Aside from the neck problems
I'm gonna have, how do I seem? - As healthy as a prize pig.

Oh, what a delightfully
descriptive way you have.

You want poetry?
Go to the library.

We specialize in sleep here.
Follow me, Steele.

Anywhere.

I'm thrilled you could fill in for Dr. Marcus
with such short notice, Dr. Holt.

The administrator at my clinic
is a very understanding man.

Naturally, I want you to take
over Dr. Marcus's cases.

I need files for Nestor Bickerman,
Ivan Turbell and any new admittances, please.

- Remington Steele.
- [Lindstrom] Nurse Blackwell.

I'll get him settled and see
that the workup is left in your...

that is, Dr. Marcus's office.

Everyone seems to have a different theory
about why she took off so suddenly.

What's yours, Nurse?

Well, apparently, gossip is an illness
that we can't even cure.

Come, Steele.

Even if that woman's innocent, I think we should
give serious consideration to framing her.

- Mr. Steele.!
- Coming.

- If you'll pardon me, I have
a review presentation to make. - Yes.

Excuse me. Is that Steele?
That's not Remington Steele, is it?

I believe it is. Why?

Hey, forgive my manners. Terry Wicker.
Same slave ship, different oar.

You must be standing in for the
mysterious missing Marcus. Am I right?

- I am, and it's Laura Holt.
- Well, welcome to the big sleep.

Come on. I'll show you where
the bodies are buried.

- Oh, well...
- So, where'd you go to school, Holt?

- Uh, Stanford.
- Stanford, huh?

You must've studied with Dr. Laker.

Ah, yes, Dr. Laker.
A wonderful man.

I would hardly call Elizabeth Laker
a wonderful man.

Oh, Elizabeth, of course.
I was thinking of her brother.

Her brother?
I thought her brother was a plumber.

Well, internal medicine isn't one of
my favorites, but the man did earn his degree.

Now if you'll excuse me,
I have so much to catch up on.

Oop! Excuse me, Nurse.

This is your room.
The second bed on the right is yours.

- Have a pleasant stay.
- How could it be anything but...

- Bickerman. Nestor Bickerman.
- Steele. Remington Steele.

- What are you in for, Steele?
- Uh, can't sleep.

- Thank God you're not one of them.
- Them?

The sleepers. I don't think I could handle
sharing a room with a sleeper.

You know what snoring sounds like
to a man who hasn't slept in months?

- No. What?
- Fingernails on a blackboard...

a dentist's drill hitting a nerve.

- Ah.
- Hey, what are you staring at?

Get out ofhere.

There's a sleeper for you. Half the time
they can't keep that guy awake.

They call him a narcoleptic,
but to me he's just another lazy bum.

I got a hundred guys
like him working for me.

- Never trust a sleeper, Steele.
- No.

So what kind of work you do?
Me, I'm in petrochemicals.

Been in petrochemicals
since the war.

I didn't like it at first,
but it sort of grows on you.

I think sleep is overrated,
don't you, Steele?

It's just a big waste
of work time if you ask me.

What can you do
when you're asleep?

Dream.
Dreaming's for suckers.

Give me facts, data, reality.

That's what makes me tick.

Not that I haven't had
a couple of good dreams in my time.

[Chuckles]
As a matter of fact, in the summer of'79...

I dreamed I was in this house
with a thousand rooms.

So I walked into the first room, and there
was this chest with a thousand drawers.

[Woman]
Let me check all the patients in the ward first.

Oh.

- [Gasps]
- Ooh! Ooh!

What a charming place
for a midnight rendezvous.

How could we have missed it
all this time?

It isn't listed
in the better guides.

But we weren't looking for
Sheila Marcus then either.

- You already checked the morgue?
- Yeah. Nothing.

Then I remembered this
was a teaching hospital.

Of course, anatomy. There would have
to be cadavers for the students to work on.

It might take weeks before
they noticed their stock was multiplying.

Then again, if one could stomach
taking inventory.

Oh.

Sheila Marcus.

I was afraid someone had donated her
to science too soon. And so young.

Look at these bruises
on her neck.

- Strangulation?
- A safe bet.

Well, what next?
A call to inform Lindstrom?

- No.
- No?

Laura, the man's supposed
to be our client.

What about our professional code
of ethics?

- You're lecturing me about ethics?
- I must be losing sleep.

But even so, don't you think
the man has a right to know?

Think about it for a minute. If we tell
Lindstrom, then the man is duty-bound...

to report it
to the hospital board.

And if he can't deliver them
a culprit at the same time...

- Then they might shut him down tomorrow.
- That's right.

- [Thumping]
- Ah, yes, Dr. Holt.

[Loudly] The constant pressure of brilliant
sleuthing has driven sleep from my life.

If it weren't for the support,
indeed the love of my associates...

I don't know how
I would continue.

[Whispering]
Open the door.

- Looking for something?
- I know why you're here, Mr. Steele.

- You do?
- Yeah, you're looking for me.

- I am? Why?
- Because I'm... I'm the guy that did it!

[Snoring]

- Is he...
- Asleep?

Yes.

Hey, hey, hey.

- I didn't hurt you, did I, Mr. Steele?
- I'll survive.

Forgive me for pressing the point,
but what is it you've done exactly, Mr...

Ivan. Ivan Turbell.
Ivan "The Terrible" Turbell.

And I'll confess to everything,
all right?

What do you need, proof?
I'll give you proof.

I woke up in the sleep room
with that tucked under my arm.

I'm guilty.!

It's Dr. Marcus's jacket.

You don't have to split atoms
for a living to put this one together.

As soon as I heard Dr. Marcus
disappeared, I knew I was the guy.

So, just tell me what I did
and I'll go along quietly.

You want me to tell you
what you've done?

Explain my condition to him,
will you, Doc?

Well, uh, you see, Mr. Steele...

Look, some narcoleptics just fall asleep
on the snap of your fingers.

- Exactly, just like that.
- Or when they're too excited.

Yes, overstimulation,
very symptomatic.

- [Ivan] Sometimes they have hallucinations.
- Yes, terrible hallucinations.

And then there's
the deluxe narcoleptic like me...

who's got all those and a few
extra symptoms to boot, like night terrors.

You must know about
my history, Doc?

Well, I haven't had a chance
to go through it in great detail, Ivan.

When I was 16, I thought
a hideous winged serpent...

was screeching down
over my bed to tear me apart.

So I grab a battle-ax to fight it off.
The ax turns out to be a lamp.

- And the screeching serpent?
- My mother.

I didn't hurt her seriously.
But then again, when I was in college...

my roommate found me
in my underwear...

trying to drag the dean's car
into the quadrangle fountain.

- Another horrifying monster?
- Poisonous meteorite. But the dean wouldn't buy it.

- Don't tell me.
- Yeah, he was still in the car.

Look, I don't want to read about
this one in the papers first.

Please, can't you just tell me
what I did to this poor woman?

Ivan, could I have a word
with Dr. Holt for a moment?

Sure. Hey, if I'm not awake when you
get back, it's nothing personal, okay?

- That's it. Case closed. Brilliant work, Laura.
- Let's not rush anything.

Rush anything? We have one corpus delicti,
one confessed murderer...

and a splendid piece
of physical evidence that join the two.

- Dinner awaits.
- Not so splendid. This jacket is covered with blood...

only we didn't find any wounds
on Sheila, remember?

You know, Laura, sometimes your
preoccupation with detail really concerns me.

So we don't say a word
until we know whose blood this is.

All right, very well.
This is a hospital, after all.

It shouldn't be too hard
to get this checked discreetly.

I'll see what I can find on Ivan. It's odd,
though, he can't remember what happened.

Just don't turn your back on him
when he's asleep.

His mother,
the dean, Dr. Marcus.

He seems to do his best work
on authority figures, Doctor.

You know what they tried to do to
Genevieve Bujold in Coma. [Clicks Teeth]

Then it's possible, Dr. Lindstrom,
for a narcoleptic to function...

even when he's asleep, and when he wakes up
have no recollection of what he did?

Mm-hmm. It's called
automatic behavior.

- Could they do something violent?
- I don't think so.

But there are always exceptions.
This is a fairly new field, remember.

Tell me, Dr. Holt, do your questions
relate to a particular case?

We have come up
with some promising data...

but it's still too early
to make an accurate diagnosis.

- And Mr. Steele?
- By now he should be well into a full workup.

I felt dreadful about spilling my blood sample
all over Dr. Holt's jacket like this...

and immediately offered to rush it
to the cleaners at my own expense.

- What did you say your name was again?
- Rona.

Rona. Oh, Rona. You have no idea
the memory that name stirs in me. Rona.

Really?

Anyway, I offered my arm to Dr. Holt
for another blood sample...

but since I'd already donated two pints
to your blood drive this morning...

- Two pints? That's quite a lot.
- A man gives what he can, Rona.

But Dr. Holt felt it would be medically unsafe
for me to lose any more blood...

and simply suggested that your lab
could run a test on the jacket.

- Well, that would be highly irregular...
- Tell me.

Do you wear those glasses all the time, or just
when you're concentrating on your work?

Well, I do take them off at night...
before I go to bed.

A pity I couldn't be there
to see your eyes unencumbered.

- [Soft Moan]
- Anyway, being that Dr. Holt is new on the staff...

I couldn't bear the thought of my clumsiness
causing her any more embarrassment.

I offered to bring the garment down here
and ask for your help in person.

- But if it's gonna be a problem.
- I suppose I could hang on to it...

and try to do it later,
Mr. Steele.

Oh, I'd be ever so grateful.

Grateful is nice,
but your room number would be better.

[Chuckles]
My room number?

Yeah. Well, I am slated
for night duty...

and you did say
you were an insomniac.

- I did, didn't I?
- Mm-hmm.

Yes.
[Chuckles]

- Are they here yet, Doc?
- [Gasps]

- Oh. Who's that, Ivan?
- The police.

I thought it over and I decided prison
isn't gonna be all that bad.

You know, three squares,
a place to hang your hat.

- At least I'll be locked up so I don't hurt anybody.
- Ivan, I'm your doctor.

And I couldn't call the police unless I was certain
you had committed some crime.

Now maybe if you could tell me again
about everything you can remember that night.

Well, l... I came... I came
down here as scheduled.

You know,
that Nurse Blackwell?

- She hooked me up to the electrodes.
- Nurse Blackwell.

Was she the one who monitored
the polygraph all night?

I suppose so.
After I was all wired...

I came in here,
they plugged me in and...

- And then you went to sleep.
- I'm a narcoleptic. Sleep is my life.

Do you remember
the night terror?

There was this big dark form standing
over me with a snake in his hand.

And I was thinkin',
"Don't come any closer with that snake.

Take it away!
Take it away!"

But he didn't. So I grabbed him
like this around the throat.

And the next thing I knew, I woke up
with Dr. Marcus's jacket in my hands.

You don't remember anything else
about that night?

Sorry, Doc.

- Maybe Mr. Steele can help us, huh?
- [Blackwell] Dr. Holt.!

- What is this?
- I was consulting with my patient.

Mr. Turbell is in this room so we can
monitor his daytime sleep seizures.

And it does none of us any good
to have this process interfered with.

Of course.

Steele, right? Dr. Wicker.

Terry to my friends, and I'm betting you're
gonna be one. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?

Afraid I never touch the stuff.
Can't sleep as it is... uh, Dr. Wicker?

- You're Dr. Holt's patient, aren't you?
- I believe so. Why?

Well, no reason. It's just that
she's hopelessly new around here...

and I just thought a man of your ilk
might like a second opinion...

on the house, of course.

You don't say. Tell me.

Are you always so generous with your services,
Doctor, or am I showing a bit too much ilk?

Ah, you see right through me,
don't you, Steele?

And why not?
You're the detective.

All right, okay,
I'll come clean.

Look, Lindstrom is right
on the edge with this clinic...

and one more bad break, he'll be just another
M.D. Looking for a hook to hang his shingle on.

Now you ask me,
that's why Sheila Marcus wised up...

passed on the tearful good-byes
and took off.

- But I've got my own little survival plan.
- Really?

Wicker's Sleep Centers.

A chain of private sleep clinics.

You see, we franchise out
the name, and within a year...

we're branching out into our own line
of mattresses and pillows.

Sounds most ambitious.
But why tell me?

Well, I'll need partners
for one thing.

And who better than a man with a sleep problem,
who also makes a headline now and then?

Just picture this copy...

"Sleep as safe and sound
as Remington Steele...

with Wickers."

- I'm telling you. We could sell a lot of pillows.
- It certainly gives one pause.

- I'm telling you. We could sell a lot of pillows.
- It certainly gives one pause.

- Then you'll sleep on it, huh?
- Mm. If only I could. Mm.

What do you mean there was
a screwup with my test results?

- You know my heart's over here, Doc.
- I know that, Mr. Bickerman.

I was just listening
to your vena cava minoris.

Oh, yeah. Well, I'm due
to get out of here in two days.

- Where's Dr. Marcus anyway?
- I don't know.

- A family emergency, I think.
- I didn't ask to be here in the first place.

But try saying no
to your chairman of the board.

"You want to be president of Varicorp
Petrochemical, Nestor?" B.J. Says to me.

"Just show us
a clean bill of health."

Well, your labial "pentranostrum"
seems normal. Turn.

Fifteen years I've waited
for this promotion...

and the company quack hears
I have a touch of insomnia, and, bammo...

it's either a spin through here...

or it's no leather chair
with a built-in back massager...

no office on the 84th floor...

no diamond tie clasp
with the company logo.

I'm sorry about all this, Mr. Bickerman,
but we can't seem to locate your paperwork.

So we're going to have to run
another full series of tests.

That Nurse Blackwell seems
to lose a lot of paperwork, doesn't she?

Nurse Blackwell?
I guess that is her area.

Ah, Dr. Holt, I hope
I haven't kept you waiting.

Make yourself comfortable
on the bed, Mr. Steele.

And I'll need you to fill this
for me, Mr. Bickerman.

- Why, you thirsty?
- I meant with a sample for your new tests.

- I'd like to get them going as soon as possible.
- But I just went.

Ah, try for me anyway,
won't you?

Were you able to get the blood
on that jacket tested?

Easy enough, except
of course for the cost.

You don't suppose we could get my room
changed by tonight?

- This is pretty big. How much do you need?
- Just to the line.

- What line?
- Oh.

Try running the water.

- We might want to take
a closer look at Dr. Wicker. - What for?

Well, for one thing, I hate people
who are abusively nice.

And for another, he can't wait
until Lindstrom's clinic collapses...

so he can start his own
sleep disorder empire.

And furthermore, I find the thought
of using Remington Steele...

to hawk pillows
just short of revolting.

Sorry, Doc. No go.
Maybe with a few more cups of coffee.

- We'll have to finish this tonight.
- I can finish this tonight.

I can't wait.

[Man Clears Throat]

- Hey! Hey.
- Yes.

Yes, the hay is wonderful
at harvesttime... soft, sweet smelling.

Come on.
We can't do this now.

Believe me, Laura,
I'm not trying to sleep with you.

I'm just trying
to sleep with you.

Here. Look at this.

Oh, what a charming idea
for a bedspread.

It's Ivan's printout the night
Sheila Marcus was killed.

- There's a half hour gap with no readings.
- Oh.

- You mean Ivan left the sleep room that night?
- It would appear so.

Guilty.

It's not that simple.
Come here.

[Groans]
Laura, please, I'm trying to get some sleep.

But the only safe place seems to be your bed.
[Sighs]

But with the missing morphine
and the records...

Nurse Blackwell
is a prime candidate.

- If only there was something I could...
- Sink your teeth into?

Consider me available.

Thanks.

But if you don't get back,
Bickerman's gonna start missing you.

Hmm, I don't miss Bickerman.

[Chuckles]
Come on.

Oh, Laura, please.
Just five minutes. A kidnap.

I mean, catnap.
Ah, yes.

I'd say good night,
but honesty prevents me.

- Good night.
- Yes.

[Sighs]

I said good night.

Is that you?

[Door Closes]

[Elevator Bell Dlngs]

[Footfalls On Stairwell]

Dr. Holt?

- Are you all right?
- I'm fine. Thank you.

The light in here is so bad.

This is plasma, isn't it?

- It's an empty I.V. Bottle.
- Oh, great.

It's good to know we have extras
if we need them.

That wouldn't be Mr. Steele's blood test
you have there?

- Uh, oh, yes. But I just thought that I would...
- You thought what?

Well, since Mr. Steele brought me
the sample personally, l...

Surely you're not entertaining notions
of responding in kind?

I didn't think
it would hurt anything.

As his doctor,
I'll see to it he learns of the results.

You never let us technicians have a crack
at any of the good ones, do you?

Ivan, there comes a point
in every man's life...

when he must examine
the consequences of his actions...

and probe deeply into the innermost
reaches ofhis true self.

I'm in it up to my neck, right?

To be specific, there's considerable evidence
pointing to you as the culprit.

Oh, no. Just, please,
don't hold back.

You gotta tell me, Mr. Steele.
What happened?

Dr. Marcus was strangled to death.
Her body hidden in the cadaver room.

Ivan? Hey, hey.
Come on. Wake up.

- He didn't do it.
- What?

Somebody just locked me out of my office
and followed me down to the nurses' station.

- Any idea who?
- No. But if you were with Ivan, it couldn't have been him.

- That seems logical enough...
- I got the blood test results from Rona.

Oh. Was she terribly disappointed?

She'll survive. But according to the report,
the blood on that jacket was type "A."

- So?
- Sheila's blood type was "O." And Ivan's is AB-negative.

Well, if it's not her blood,
and it isn't his blood...

Somebody's trying to frame him.
It's clear.

What about the gap
you found in his readout?

I don't have an explanation
for that yet...

but I think it's time we let Lindstrom know
what's going on.

- You want to tell Ivan the good news?
- I really think I should.

Hey. Hey.

- I did it. I did it!
- Well, perhaps you didn't do it.

- What?
- Well, you didn't kill Dr. Marcus.

Did l...
Did I miss something?

- Are you sure I'm innocent?
- I intend to prove it to you.

- So keep your eyes open and please...
- I'll try to stay awake.

- I really will.
- Good.

Because the sight of someone
sleeping now is apt to make me violent.

I only recently found out myself
I was narcoleptic.

The fact is,
it's ruined my life.

Imagine prom night,
I finally get Effie Stoneglass...

the most popular girl
in the senior class to dance with me.

- Guess what I do when the band starts playing?
- Fall asleep?

Like a rock. And the first time
I was ever intimate with a woman.

You know that moment
you always hear so much about?

- You mean...
- I slept right through it.

- And she had the marriage annulled the next day.
- Ivan, I'm sorry.

- I had no idea. It's been rough, hasn't it?
- Well, you try to adjust.

But you have to be awake
to do that.

All the friends it's cost me
and the careers.

You know, there's no easy niche
for a sleeper in our world, Steele.

How'd you do that?

With a certain God-given talent
and a lot of practice.

Ayellow tie? Hmm.

And this man imagines that
I could be his partner?

- What are we looking for?
- Whoever framed you, knew about your case history.

I just wanted to see if there was anything
in the good doctor's closet...

that rattled as much
as he did.

Dr. Marcus?

What would Dr. Wicker be doing
with Dr. Marcus's stethoscope in his locker?

What indeed?

What is that?

A most illuminating picture.

Sheila and I had more than just
a professional relationship.

In fact, the night she disappeared,
we had planned a rendezvous on the phone.

- But she never showed up.
- Why didn't you tell us this before?

I'm a married man. I was hoping
this entire thing could be cleared up...

without probing
into Sheila's love life.

But I see now we're well
into that territory.

- Did you know Sheila was seeing Terence Wicker?
- No, I didn't.

But it doesn't surprise me.
Sheila loved men. All men.

- Not in a way that was dirty
and cheap. She was just... - Philanthropic?

[Sighs]
Exactly.

Perhaps Sheila found out Wicker
was trying to close you down...

or that he had
a morphine problem.

If that stethoscope turns out
to be the murder weapon...

it would certainly make him
a prime suspect.

I don't know.
What do you think, Steele?

- Mr. Steele. Mr. Steele!
- [Grunts]

Pardon me.
I'm meditating.

I find it beneficial whenever I'm about to embark
on the demanding last leg of a case.

I wondered if you concurred with Miss Holt
about the stethoscope.

The stethoscope?
Absolutely.

What did I just agree to?

- That the stethoscope might be
the murder weapon. - Did I come up with that?

That was great, Steele. Meditating.
I never thought of calling it meditating.

It's time for Mr. Steele
to go on the machine.

The machine?

Try to relax, Mr. Steele.

There's nothing to worry about.

I'll be here all night.

What a comforting thought.

I can see your machine
quite well from my station.

Oh, I'm so glad.
I wouldn't want you to miss anything.

[Chuckles]

[Door Opens]

[Beeping]

[Beeping Stops]

[Beeping]

- [Knocking]
- [Laura] Dr. Wicker?

Dr. Wicker?

[Gasps, Gags]

[Screams]

- [Coughing]
- My God, what happened?

I stabbed him
with something. L...

Yes, it appears you did.

I didn't kill him.

You're trapped in the darkness
with someone squeezing the life out of you...

with your own stethoscope.

You reach for the closest weapon,
surgical scissors, and you defend yourself.

I didn't pick up surgical scissors.

I picked up
a hypodermic needle.

- Who's dead?
- [Steele] Dr. Wicker.

- Dr. Wicker! You don't think l...
- Relax, Ivan. Relax.

Laura, do you realize
what you are saying?

- If you didn't kill Dr. Wicker,
then he's not our man. - He isn't.

But what about our evidence...
the picture, the stethoscope?

The stethoscope was a plant,
just like the jacket.

Why would the murderer
want to frame two people?

I don't think he's trying to frame anyone.
He just wants to buy some time.

Each clue that he leaves
behind takes us down another blind alley.

Blind alley. That's a delightfully
quiet spot for a rest.

The missing morphine is the one thing
we haven't nailed down.

The key must be
in there somewhere.

What are you doing
with these, anyway?

Strange as it may sound, I couldn't sleep,
so I slipped out of the sleep room to see you.

I thought I might keep them,
so I could slip back in.

But someone must've noticed
you were off the machine right away.

Only if they came into the room
to check both machines.

From the nurses' station, only my polygraph
can be seen, and it was running when I left.

How did you manage that?

I switched connections
with the other machine.

What did you say?

I connected the other patient
to my machine.

- I like that look in your eye.
- What does that mean?

It usually precedes a brilliant
case-ending deduction.

- You did it.
- I did?

- Of course! It's so obvious.
Why didn't we see it before? - How about exhaustion?

- Now what exactly...
- Quickly, come on, Ivan. We'll need your help.

- You know, for a doctor,
she seems pretty good at this. - Yeah.

Nurse Blackwell.

- Dr. Holt.
- I would like a word with you.

- If you must.
- In private.

Well, I did need to prepare
some additional medication.

I was merely curious
about the sleep room procedure.

When you monitor the patients all night,
do you ever leave your station?

- Twice, but only briefly.
- How briefly?

Well, I try to check in on all the
other patients on the floor if I can.

Is that what you did the night before it was
discovered Sheila Marcus had disappeared?

- What's the matter, Mr. Steele?
- Patience, Ivan.

Fatigue has blurred
my natural gifts.

This should do it.

- You can do it, can't you?
- Of course I can. Don't be ridiculous.

And according to the reports, it was always you
who discovered the missing morphine.

I am supposed to inventory
all the drugs every night.

And, naturally, I would be
the one to discover any discrepancies.

- Now, if you'll excuse me.
- Just a moment, Nurse. I'm not finished yet.

Oh. This is most embarrassing, Ivan.

There's a pride factor
at work here.

I should be able
to do this in my sleep.

Forget I said that.

I know you can do it, Mr. Steele.

It takes me five minutes
to get through a hospital standard.

If the union ever
got wind of this, well...

You belong to a union?

I don't believe I care to hear
any more of this, Dr. Holt.

Very well.
You won't have to...

for the moment.

Have you come
across anything yet?

I might, if only these lines
would hold still long enough.

Dr. Marcus told me these printouts
are as individual as fingerprints...

so we should be able
to spot it right away.

- Any luck?
- Not so far.

- Do you really think it could...
- Hold on.

Have a look at this.

Well, here they're an insomniac,
and then the readings suddenly become...

Narcoleptic.
That's definitely narcoleptic.

And then it goes back
to insomnia.

- How long is that span of narcolepsy?
- About half an hour.

The gap in my readout
was half an hour!

It appears we've found our killer.

I hope he shows up soon. I'd hate to sleep
through the resolution of our case.

Hang on. If he shows up,
you can spend all day tomorrow in bed.

Oh. In bed.

That has such
a nice rhythm to it.

Especially when you say it
with that soft lilt in your voice.

You never told me
I had a lilt in my voice before.

I never told you I could cook either,
but that never stopped me.

Still trying to weaken
my defenses?

Oh, it's such a noble struggle.

- I'd hate to give it up.
- So would I.

You know, I've never had a man
cook for me before.

Mmm. Oh, the recipes
we could share.

[Sighing]

- [Banging]
- Hmm?

Looking for this, Mr. Bickerman?

- Couldn't sleep again, eh, Nestor?
- Well, l... I just...

You were just trying to retrieve
your blood sample...

so that no one would learn your sleeplessness
was caused by your drug habit.

[Steele] And if the chairman
of the board frowned on insomnia...

I imagine he'd be rather intolerant
of morphine addiction.

You almost pulled it off. Just a few more days
and you'd get that clean bill ofhealth...

and that chair
with the back massager.

But Dr. Marcus was able
to get one of your samples through the lab.

So you killed her and framed Ivan who was
in the sleep room with you that night.

When Dr. Wicker discovered the discrepancy
in the sleep printout, he had to die too.

You're right.
I am an addict...

and those hypocrites
at Varicorp are responsible for it.

They sent me on a mine renewal tour
about six years ago.

I spent months crawling
around abandoned mines...

Iooking for a vein
for those parasites to tap into.

But one day a beam gave out...

and a load of shale
came down on me.

Five operations and a ton
of painkillers later, and I was an addict.

It ruined my sleep...

my marriage, but I'm not going
to let it ruin my career.

Now, get over there, Steele,
next to the doc!

[Steele]
Ivan, now!

I will not fall asleep.
I will not fall asleep.

Did I do it?
Did I do it?

This time, Ivan, you did it.

This is great. I don't remember the last time
I actually made it through an entire meal.

Usually, I got groggy after the salad, and before
you knew it, I was face down in the entree.

But this time, I have never
felt more awake in my life.

I mean that's really something,
isn't it, Steele?

I'm glad someone's made
a full recovery, yes.

Well, Ivan will always be
a narcoleptic.

But with properly monitored treatments,
should lead a normal, functional life.

And the clinic?
You hinted at good news.

We're back in business.
Varicorp, Bickerman's company...

was so upset at all the bad publicity
he brought them...

they made a substantial contribution
to the clinic to try to balance things out.

The committee had no choice
but to renew us.

A comforting thought for those
still afflicted, I'm sure.

I did it.
I made it to dessert.

Dessert. Mr. Steele.

Hmm? Ah. Ah, yes.

Ah, dessert, of course.

Excuse us.

- You still look a little weary.
- Yes.

- Well, as Buddha once said...
- Buddha?

Or was it Kurt Vonnegut?

At any rate, he said,
"Be careful of what you pretend to be...

because you are
what you pretend to be."

In other words?

I've become a raving insomniac.

You mean you haven't slept
since we left the hospital?

I think I nodded off once in the shower,
but I'm not sure.

Oh. Well, we'll have to have
Dr. Holt take a look at the patient.

- [Clears Throat]
- Sounds strong enough.

Of course, levity comes easily to someone
who doesn't have to face a lifetime...

of examining
their bedroom ceiling.

You can play at a doctor
anytime you wish, but l...

Oh, my, that feels good.

- Temperature seems normal.
- Or rising slightly.

Shoulders still tense.
Can't have that.

[Sighs]
You think I need physical therapy?

Well, perhaps a little of that...

and my lilting voice.

Mmm, yes.

Yes, and your lilting voice.

[Sighs]

Time for dessert, Mr. Steele.

[Mews]

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