All language subtitles for Remington Steele s03e03 Maltese Steele.eng

You'll never take me alive!

Great trick, huh?
Guy thought I was dead.

The guy was right.

You are dead.

That is not my nephew.

- Are you sure?
- Look for yourself, Miss Holt.

- A distant cousin, perhaps?
- Doubtful, Mr. Steele.

Wh-What is it exactly you'd
like us to do, Mr. Carlisle?

Find out what
the hell's going on.

I've been on the phone for a week.
Nobody in Malta will give me a straight answer.

Th-These papers
say that's my nephew.

Now, I know
that's not my nephew.

What makes you so sure
your nephew is even dead?

Yes. I mean, he could be off gallivanting
around the Mediterranean, even as we speak.

If that's true,
then I'd like to know it.

Please, Mr. Steele, Miss Holt.
Benjamin's been-

Well, he's been a A1 pain in the rear end
ever since his folks passed away.

He was arrested in England
for selling false passports.

The German authorities tried to connect him
with a smuggling ring...

and the French simply refuse
to allow him into the country.

So when he said he wanted to live
in Malta, I figured, well, why not?

It's in the middle of nowhere.

Look, all I want you to do is return that
body to Malta, bring my nephew back here...

where he can't cause
any more trouble.

Dead or alive.

- Open, please.
- I'm with them.

- Open.
- Oh. Now look here, my good senor.

As a former representative
of the United States government, I am the-

Open!

Crude but effective.
You better open it, Mildred.

Don't worry, chief.

Oh. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Take it easy now.

This thing doesn't
repack itself, you know.

Refresh my memory, Laura.

Why was it necessary to bring Mildred along
on this benign albeit macabre mission?

Mildred can be
a bureaucratic whirlwind.

In a place like this, a skill like that
can come in very handy.

You don't say.

Hey, want a taxi?

Ah. Ah, a bit cramped, eh?

Don't worry, chief.
I'll get us some wheels.

I got these people eating
out of the palm of my hand.

Palm of her hand, eh?
Giddyap, boy.

It was the only thing big enough
to accommodate our traveling companion.

I suppose hiring a driver would
have been too much to ask for.

Well, it's not Mildred's fault
that the guy who owns this wagon...

was too superstitious
to chauffeur a coffin.

Well, let's hope she has better luck
checking us into a hotel. Come on, Trigger.

You know, Laura, if I didn't know better...

I'd say you brought Mildred along
to act as a buffer between us.

- Come on, boyo.
- Mr. Steele...

the fact that we're on
a balmy Mediterranean island...

caressed by breezes, alone, except for
an extra body or two, doesn't change things.

- Our relationship is strictly professional.
- Oh, splendid.

I just wanted to confirm
the rules of the game. That's all.

Awfully friendly,
these Maltese, aren't they?

We couldn't eat another thing. Please.
We've eaten already. Thank you very much.

- Beginning to look more like a traveling medicine show.
- Must be a Maltese custom.

Oh. I ate on the plane.
Thanks. Want some salami?

Right. That's it, Trigger.

We never make mistakes.

But that body out there
is not Benjamin Carlisle.

- This is Benjamin Carlisle, Mr. Borg-Ward.
- Now do you recognize him?

Mademoiselle, in my business it does not pay
to become too familiar with the clientele.

At least take a look. I mean, it might
refresh your memory.

If you insist.

Hector!

Open the box.

Death is a cruel artist.
It is the same man, mon ami.

All right?

Now I know how
Carlisle's uncle felt.

Mr. Borg-Ward?

Perhaps you would care
to reinstate your friend Mr. Carlisle...

in something
more modern classical.

For instance, this beautiful
deluxe model here?

- Ah. You want a little moment
serenity before you decide?

This is it, Laura-

the absolute nadir
of our association.

Stuck in the middle of
the Mediterranean...

with an associate who won't associate
and a body nobody wants.

Pardon me...

but I think somebody's trying to steal
the body nobody wants.

Huh?

Oh.

He took this from
his friend in the casket.

- What is it?
- I don't know. But it doesn't look like it's worth dying for.

He was right in
the middle of the road.

I couldn't stop.

He just appeared
from nowhere.

A senseless accident, Miss Cable.
It could have happened to anyone.

I should have been able to stop.
I could've swerved.

- Oh, it's not your fault.
- Well, who was he?

I mean, did the police find anything
on his body? Any... identification, I mean.

His name was Hector Tolouse.
He, uh, worked for the local undertaker.

You're not in the undertaking
business as well, I suppose?

It's a long story, Miss Cable.

Are you well enough
to drive, Miss Cable?

Oh, there. There, now.
Don't set yourself off again.

- Oh, yes.
- Forgive me.

Oh, not at all. You've been through a pretty
hair-raising experience.

Perhaps I should drive
Miss Cable home, eh?

- Oh, no, no, no. Really, I'm- I'm fine.
- Okay, well.

Now, you don't hesitate to call us
if you should need anything at all.

- We'll be at the Hotel Phoenicia, okay?
- Thank you.

Mind your legs.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.

Look who's back.

The body was prepared by Hector-

my dear, departed colleague-
so we cannot ask him.

However, my records will show...

Mr. Carlisle had
no personal effects whatsoever.

What's so important
about this thing...

that Hector would have gone to so much trouble
to smuggle it out of Malta in a casket, eh?

Who said
he was smuggling it out?

- You went though that hassle at customs.
- Mmm.

Maybe somebody was smuggling
the piece into Malta...

- and Hector was just the pickup man.
- Is that possible?

That, sir, I cannot tell you.

I'm not asking you.
I'm asking her.

Perhaps things will become clearer
once we find Carlisle's body.

Mr. Borg-Ward, how many other bodies
were embalmed the same day as Carlisle's?

I will make reference.

Ah, yes. Here it is.

On that day, only one other:
Mr. Abdul Amad.

That's Amad back there
in the casket.

Yes, yes. Judging from old Borg-Ward's
efficient filing system...

odds are Carlisle was sent
to Amad's family.

So our next step is to find out where Amad
was buried and have the body exhumed.

Ah, Mr. Borg-Ward...

how long would it take to have
Mr. Amad's body exhumed?

Ah, two weeks,
maybe even six months.

Six months?

Listen, could you keep an eye
on that body out there?

I'm sorry, sir, but for reasons
I cannot explain, I must humbly refuse.

Then perhaps you could recommend us
to another mortuary where we might-

Senor, this is a one mortuario town.

Surely we must be able
to come to some sort of, uh, transaction?

Paying customers?

Please, do not disappear.
I will get my order book.

I'm afraid, Laura,
we have our work cut out for us.

- That is, if we expect to get
home by the turn of the century.

Just what I always wanted to do
on a sultry Mediterranean night.

- Hmm?
- Rob a grave.

Ah, scotch and water
with a twist, please.

Thank you very much.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- What a surprise.
- Yes. I didn't realize you were staying here.

I'm not. It's just that I... couldn't stand
the thought of being alone tonight.

Yes, it's amazing how a
lonely bar offers comfort...

when you find yourself, uh, alone.

It's not the bar that I find
comforting, Mr. Steele.

It's the thought that
even in a foreign place...

one can still depend on
the kindness of strangers.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

So what brings you
to Malta, Mr. Steele?

Yes, well- Like Miss Holt
said this afternoon, it's a long story.

Make it short.
I've only got all night.

Uh-

- What's this?
- Compliments of the gentleman over there.

Me?

- Well, thank you.
- Not at all, madam.

I am Edvard Jensen.

I'm Mildred Krebs
from the United States.

I know. We had the pleasure
of traveling to Malta on the same airplane.

Permit me to say
how very pleased I am...

that we are also staying
at the same hotel.

Listen, anybody who talks to me the way
you do doesn't need my permission.

So, Mildred-
I may call you Mildred?

Oh, sure. Can I call you Ed?

- Edvard.
- Edvard.

So tell me, Mildred,
what mischievous stroke of fate...

has arranged for
our paths to cross on Malta?

Oh. Well, if you had all night,
I might begin to tell you.

It just so happens that I do.

- Could I have a white wine, please?
- Surely.

Thank you very much.

Psst.!

Miss Holt, I'd like you
to meet Edvard Jensen.

- Mr. Jensen, this is Miss Holt.
- Charmed, madam.

- Mr. Jensen.
- Please. Mildred has been telling me...

- what an extraordinary woman you are, Miss Holt.
- Oh.

What she failed to emphasize
is that you are as beautiful as she is.

Couldn't you just die for him?

- Oh.
- Ah, there you are.

Mr. Steele, I'd like you
to meet Edvard Jensen.

- This is my boss, Mr. Steele.
- How do you do?

How do you do?
Pleased to meet you.

May I present, uh,
Miss Margaret Cable.

- Miss Cable.
- Mr. Jensen.

I'm Mildred Krebs. I sort of keep these two
out of trouble.

- Feeling better?
- Yes, thank you.

I thought we could all
go to dinner.

- Oh!
- Well, here's to newfound friends and lasting relationships.

If you will excuse us
for a moment...

Mr. Steele and I have
a delicate matter to discuss.

Hmm? Oh.
Please excuse me, will you?

Oh, maybe I'd better make sure
we can get that table.

I'll be back in a jiffy.

You idiot!

After you put the
missing piece in the coffin...

you were supposed to wait in Los Angeles
until you heard from me.

Can I help it if I am
by nature a suspicious man?

It was I who found that piece,
and I intend to get my full share.

Well, why shouldn't you?

That, my dear, is a question
I might ask Hector, if he were still alive.

- Hector was a fool. Anyway, we're better off without him.
- Is that so?

And I suppose you felt the same way
about Benjamin Carlisle.

Carlisle was careless.

Besides, now we only have to
split the treasure two ways instead of four.

We have a grave to rob, and you're throwing
a dinner party. I need you in top form tonight.

Not to worry, Miss Holt. I have
every intention of being precisely that.

Okay? Don't worry. Icy calm.

So what time's
the gondola ride, boss?

The what, Mildred?
The gondola ride?

There's a sign in the lobby
advertising moonlight gondola rides.

- Sounds perfectly delightful. Doesn't it, Remington?
- Yes, it does. Doesn't it?

Much as I hate to put
a damper on the evening...

Mr. Steele and I have a very big day
ahead of us tomorrow.

Much as I would love to enjoy the romantic
Mediterranean sky from the seat of a gondola...

uh, perhaps we should
take a rain check, hmm?

- Well, good night, my love.
- I'll catch you tomorrow, Edvard.

- Good night, Margaret.
- Good night, Remington.

- Yeah. Good night, Mr. Jensen.
- Good night, Mr. Steele.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- Good night, Miss Cable.
- Good night, Miss Krebs.

- Good night.
- Good night, Miss Holt.

- Tomorrow morning, 9:00?
- My room. 9:00.

Did you hear that?

It's probably a cat or-

- Or?
- Or something.

Laura. Laura, light.

That's no cat, Laura.

- Laura.
- Hmm?

- You'd better not look. This might get a bit grisly, okay?
- Okay.

Okay.

Good Lord.

Good Lord.

The Third Man. Joseph Cotten,
Orson Welles. London Films, 1949.

Cotten arrives in postwar Vienna
looking for his old friend Harry Lime...

who seems to have had
a bit of an accident.

Everybody thought Lime was dead,
but suddenly he turned up alive.

- You saw the film, did you?
- No.

I just had an idea
that's what you were gonna say.

Oh.

You don't think Carlisle
feigned his own death...

in order to smuggle that bit of brass
back into Malta, do you?

Obviously someone knew the body
would be returning to Malta.

- Let me see that thing.
- What thing?

- Let me see it.
- Oh.

Shall we go?

Oh. Whoa.

Oh! Sh-

Ooh! Ouch! Ouch.

Laura-

I think what we have here...

- is a piece of a Maltese cross.
- Great.

Now all we have to do is figure out what's so
important about it and where the rest of it is.

Hey, what is this? A convention?

- Since when do Maltese cats carry guns?
- Good question. Come on.

First thing in the morning,
we'll track down someone...

who'll be able to tell us what's so
bloody valuable about a Maltese cross.

- In the meantime, beware of thieves in the night.
- Yeah.

Listen, uh, perhaps it might be a wise move
if we, uh, teamed up for the night.

I mean, purely
a precautionary measure, Laura.

You'll do just fine
without me, Mr. Steele.

Oh, yes. Well, I'm beginning
to suspect I will.

- Good night.
- Uh-huh.

Yes.

Once again, good night.
Good night.

Laura?

Oh, Margaret.

May I come in?

Uh-Yes, yes. Please-
Please do. Please do.

There was a man lurking outside
my house when I got home.

- Oh.
- I was afraid.

I... didn't know who to turn to.

Has this sort of thing
ever happened to you before?

No. Not until today.
Until the accident.

- Carlisle.
- Who?

The man who ran in front of your car
this afternoon was carrying this.

- What is it?
- That's what I'm still trying to figure out.

I'm... not in any... danger, am I?

Oh- Oh, no.
No, no. No, no, no.

None whatsoever.

- Are you sure?
- Oh, yes, Margaret, absolutely sure.

Yes, please put your fears to rest.

- Yes.
- Mmm.

I have a bottle of Dom P�rignon
in my refrigerator.

Perhaps if we-

Mmm.

What was that? Laura!

Oh, damn!

Ah! Ah.

Almost forgot. Okay. Thanks.

Damn.

- What is it?
- I don't know. We were asleep.

What kind of a sleazy place
is this, boss?

People breaking into your room
in the middle of the night.

Not that sleazy, Mildred. I'll wager
whoever it was was looking for this.

- What happened?
- Ah, Margaret. It's okay.

Everything's all right.
Don't worry about a thing.

Somebody just had
the wrong room. That's all.

Listen, you better let me
have that thing, chief.

I'll have them lock it up tight
in the hotel safe for the night.

Good idea, Mildred. Well done.

- I'd better be going now.
- Margaret, you can't go. It's not safe.

No, no, no. It's all right.
I've got a friend I can stay with tonight.

I'll, uh- I'll ring you tomorrow.

Uh- Oh.

I can see the headlines now.
"Great American detective romancing woman...

while associates
murdered in the next room. "

- Laura, I was in bed.
- Oh, you were, were you?

Well, I'm terribly sorry if an attack
on my life interrupted your evening.

No need to flagellate
yourself over it.

These things happen, however inconvenient
it might be for some of us.

- It's not your fault.
- My fault?

You've had your mind on everything
but this case ever since we got here.

You always this grumpy at night?

Only when I wake up
with a man's hands around my throat.

If you hadn't locked
the bloody connecting door...

I would've been on the scene
to nab that someone.

Good night, Mr. Steele.

"The Maltese Cross, circa 1530.

"Key to the legendary treasure
of the Knights of Malta...

but for the missing fourth piece. "

Hmm.

The missing fourth piece,
I presume.

No wonder Hector
wanted it so badly.

According to this,
the completed cross is the key...

to a fabulous treasure
of gold and precious gems.

Gold? Precious gems?

I mean, even if Hector
were only the bagman...

his share probably
would have been worth millions of dollars.

You mean to say this... plus that-
fabulous treasure? Hmm.

- Watch the door, will you, Laura?
- Mr. Steele!

The question is,
who was working with Hector?

- And if it was Benjamin Carlisle, where is he now?
- Huh.

Why do you suppose this piece
looks so much older than the rest of the cross?

- Yes, it does, doesn't it?
- Hmm.

- Can I help you?
- Oh! Um-

Yes, um-We were wondering
why the Maltese Cross appears so new.

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

And... where is
the missing fourth piece?

The fourth piece of the cross
has been missing for centuries.

That cross is a fake,
old chap.

I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir.

The Maltese Cross was dated and authenticated
by the British Museum in London.

Is that so? Well, supposing
I were to tell you...

that Mr. St. Albans here is Supervisor of
Medieval Religious History at the British Museum?

Yes, and I have a mind to expose you
and your historical society.

What is your name,
old chap? Hmm-hmm?

Kenneth- K-Kenneth-
Kenneth Thackeray, sir.

- Kenneth Thackeray.
- Oh, please, listen.

Please, listen. Listen.

You must promise to keep what I'm about
to tell you in the strictest of confidence.

Don't worry, Mr. Thackeray.
Our lips are sealed.

Ah, yes. Mum's the word.

Y- You see,
t- two weeks ago, the-

the authentic Maltese Cross
was stolen from that very case.

- Is that so?
- Yes, it is so, sir.

Was anyone arrested
in connection with the crime?

N- No. No, not- not yet.

But the authorities
have reason to believe...

that the museum security guard who was
on duty at the time... was involved.

Oh. Listen, what would prevent someone
from using that Maltese cross...

to lead them to the treasure,
Mr. Thackeray?

Well, the original cross has... a map
on one side. You must remember.

- Oh, yes. Yes, of course. The map. You wouldn't-
- Mr. Thack-

Excuse me. You wouldn't by any chance
have any other artifacts lying around...

that lead to treasure, would you?

- No. Why?
- Oh, no reason. Just... archaeology fascinates me.

Presumably that's why you joined
the British Museum, sir.

Oh, yes, of course. Not only that, huh.
It delighted my mother.

It's open.

It's nice to know whom you can trust
and whom you can't.

What are you doing?
I thought we were partners.

Partners, my dear, don't
double-cross each other.

Don't be a fool, Jensen.
If you hadn't interfered last night...

we'd have the fourth piece
in our hands now.

Correction, my dear. You would have
had it, and then where would I have been?

Yes, that's what I thought.

Now you listen to me, partner.

From now on, I call the tune
and you follow orders.

I'm going to see to it that the
fourth piece is delivered to me...

and then,
if we are lucky enough...

and provided that we both
live long enough to enjoy it...

you and I will be
very, very rich.

You caught a man stealing
the Maltese Cross...

from its display case
at the historical society...

chased him to a rundown hotel, up to a room
where he strapped the cross on a falcon...

let it go, and then bit
on a poison capsule and fell dead?

Yes.

- I believe you, sir.
- You do?

Laura, nobody could make up
something that preposterous.

Are you absolutely sure that
you had nothing to do with this?

On a stack of Bibles,
I'm an innocent man.

- Do you have the picture?
- Mmm.

- Is this the man?
- Yes, that's him.

- What'd the police do with the body? Do you know?
- That's my problem, you see.

When the police came,
there was no body.

Well, what happened to it?
It didn't just get up and walk away.

Or did it? I think we'd better have a look
at that hotel room, Laura. Don't you?

I'd like Mildred to check any
falconers on the island first.

I mean, somebody's gotta know
where Carlisle is, whether he's dead or alive.

Oh, isn't this lovely?

I'm so glad that you like it.

- Look at that view!
- That is why I brought you here, my dear.

Oh. Oh, my.

Oh!

Isn't this beautiful?

There is nothing so beautiful,
my dear, as a flower in full bloom.

Except, perhaps,
a woman in full bloom.

You don't know how long it's been
since anyone's made me feel the way you do.

I feel I have known you
for a hundred years.

200.

Shall we go? We don't want
to miss the sunset, do we?

This is fine. Thank you.

How much? Okay. There you go.
Thank you. Bye.

- Mildred?
- Mildred?

Mildred?

Oh.

"Unless you turn over
the missing cross to me...

you'll never see
Mildred Krebs alive again. "

It's signed "Carlisle. "

All right. Thank you.
This is the place.

"Go up the stairs to the roof. "

Mmm. There's a good boy.

"Secure the fourth piece
of the cross to the falcon and let it go.

"When I have safely received it,
I will release Mildred Krebs.

Signed, Carlisle. "

- Damn! I knew I shouldn't have brought
Mildred along. - Laura, you can't blame-

You were right.
I didn't want to admit it...

but I did bring Mildred along
as a buffer between us.

It was a stupid,
unprofessional decision.

Once again, I let my personal feelings
cloud my professional judgment.

Laura, you can't blame yourself
for Mildred's predicament.

I mean, no one could have
predicted from the outset...

the simple twists and turns
of this peculiar case.

It doesn't make this
any easier to live with.

Carl should have
been here with Mildred.

The fact that he isn't
scares the hell out of me.

If we put that fourth piece on the bird
and let it go, Mildred hasn't got a chance.

Are you suggesting
we don't let it go?

If we send it, we've got nothing
to bargain with.

And if we don't send it,
we've got nothing to bargain for.

In that case, let's see to it the falcon
isn't the only visitor to Mr. Carlisle's.

Good thought, Laura.
Very good thought indeed. Yes.

Now here we go,
Tweety Pie. Now-

- Careful.
- Okay.

After all, shouldn't be
too hard to follow a bird, should it? Go.

There we go.

Wonderful.

- There it is! Oh!
- Cabbie!

Oh, look at this.
Look at this. How lovely.

- There you go, sir.
- What are you doing? Who are you?

Maltese Chamber of Commerce.
Congratulations.

You've won the deluxe
walking tour of Malta.

- Follow that bird!
- Go.

Go!

You realize what we're doing,
don't you, Laura?

We're chasing a Maltese falcon.

Right.

There it is.

There it is.!

Laura, look. Better still.

I've never been
on one of these things.

Just like riding a bike, Laura.

Pull.!

Wait!

Please, please.
Our bird. Our bird.

- Our bird up there, see? Our bird.
- No! No! No!

Oh, Edvard.
This is just beautiful.

Yes, but I think we should
keep going, Mildred.

Oh, can't we just stay
for a while?

You haven't told me
anything about yourself yet.

- What is there to tell?
- Well, everything.

I don't know where
you were born.

I don't even know what
you do to make a living.

You will know all that soon enough.
But now, I really think we should go.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Come on. Let's just-
Let's just have a little nibble here.

Wow. That's what
I call light cuisine.

Edvard, it's empty.

Laura!

Are you okay?

Why didn't you just
put a gun to my head, Edvard?

Why did you have to
lead me on like that?

I did what I had to do.

- You could give yourself up. It's not too late.
- It is too late.

No, take it from me.
It's never too late.

I mean, just a year ago,
I was working for the I.R. S...

slaving away there and going nowhere in
a nowherejob, when bingo, all of a sudden-

Shut up!
Mildred, you and I-

I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings,
but sometimes a man gets caught up...

in events that are
bigger than he is.

That's why I hope that some day I'm going to
forgive myself for what I'm about to do.

What are you about to do?

Mr. Steele!

Are you all right?

Don't stand there talking to me.
Go get that bum.

Oh, my-

I'll take that.

- Margaret.
- Give it to me.

This is what you wanted
all along, isn't it?

I won't say it wasn't fun,
but a woman's got to have her priorities.

That won't do you
much good. Yours is a fake.

Carlisle double-crossed you.

- You're lying.
- Am I?

Then why did you kill him?

Margaret, look out!

- You saved my life.
- Yes, well, accidents will happen.

Eh, Miss Holt?

That's it. There it is.

Ah, think of it, Laura. Men have searched
for this spot for centuries.

Need I remind you that legally,
the old saw "finders, keepers"...

- is unlikely to apply here.
- Yes, yes.

Well, we'll sort out
those petty details later.

For the moment, though,
let's savor the thrill of discovery, eh?

I imagine Benjamin Carlisle
felt much the same way, Mr. Steele.

And look where it got him.

Yes, Laura, but unlike
Carlisle's feminine partner...

you wouldn't murder me
for my share of the treasure...

then, uh, bury me behind
an abandoned fortress, would you?

Don't think the thought
hasn't crossed my mind.

Laura, let me see
the flashlight. Here you go.

Okay, over here somewhere. Hmm.

Ah. Ah-ha. Down with the torch.

Ah, there we go. That's great.

Okay.

Oh, I can smell it, Laura.
I can smell it. Go. That's it.

Oh. There. The cross. The cross.

Here we go. Aaah!

- Okay.
- The cross.

Don't lose the second bit.

Oh. Ah. Okay.

Ah. It goes here.

Oh.! Oh, my goodness.

Okay, Laura.

Hold that. Hold that.

- Oh.
- Okay. Hold it.

It's opening.

Okay. All right.

- Steady, steady. Let's stay calm.
- Look at that.

A note.

Oh.

Okay.

"Well done, chaps, but too late.

"Signed, Sir Floyd Thursby.

December 4, 1884."

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