All language subtitles for Remington Steele s03e09 Cast in Steele.eng

Excuse me. Cou-

Oh, pardon me.

Could you tell me
where I could find-

Go to the admissions desk.
Don't bother the medical staff.

There's no one
at the admissions desk.

That's fine.
Insert the cannula right here.

I assure you, Laura,
if I had heard you...

I wouldn't have gone
into the building.

I'll bet. When have you ever
listened to me before?

Mr. Steele!
Miss Holt!

What happened?

Well, i-it's a long story.

Champagne, Mildred?

- Yes, Mr. Steele?
- Ah, yes, nurse.

Could you get me another beaker
for our friend here, please? Thank you.

I thought you two were just going
to some awards ceremony this weekend.

That was the first mistake.

Come now, Laura, you can't say it
wasn't all worthwhile, now, can you?

Can you get back to me
when the ligaments heal?

Will somebody tell me
what happened?

Mm. Certainly.

Mr. Steele and I had been invited...

to the opening ceremonies
of the Hollywood Archives...

an organization for the preservation
and study of the American movie.

It's a beautiful night for our gala,
ladies and gentlemen.

- We may even see some
of the more reclusive stars.

Wait a minute. Who's this?
Why it's Dorothy Lamour and Lloyd Nolan.!

Oh, my.!
Doesn't she look radiant.

And Mr. Nolan
appears as dapper as-

Quite a few stars
had helped the Archives...

and were going to be recognized
that evening with plaques of appreciation.

Oh, hold on. Who's this?

Wait a minute. I think-
I think it's-

Yes, it is.! Ladies and gentlemen,
Virginia Mayo.!

Oh, remember her as the voluptuous,
slightly cross-eyed blonde...

in the Technicolor spectacles
of the '40s?

What a thrill, ladies and gentlemen.
And it's onlyjust begun.

Oh, who's this?

Due to, uh,
diligent P.R. efforts on my part...

Mr. Steele had been
selected as a presenter.

And so we come to
the triumph of White Heat...

in which Miss Mayo
further displayed...

her versatility
oppositeJames Cagney.

As Verna Jarrett, she firmly established
herself in the annals of film noir.

It is my great honor now to present
this plaque of appreciation...

to a radiant star,
Miss Virginia Mayo.

I didn't know I was so prolific.

Thank you, Mr. Steele, for those kind words.
And thank you, everyone.

Well, here's hoping
the Archives is a big success.

Thank you very much.

Needless to say, Mildred,
my speech was a resounding triumph.

It's her performances
in the Road pictures...

- that made Bob Hope and Bing Crosby-
- Oh! Oh.

Hello, Cynthia. How are you?

...to know who I'm talking about.
Ladies and gentlemen...

it's my great pleasure
to present Miss Dorothy Lamour.

Nice. Yeah.

Oh, uh, terribly sorry.

I didn't see
the sign. Sorry.

- Ah! Excuse me, Mr. Nolan.
- Oh, Steele, right?

Uh, yes. You didn't happen to see
Virginia Mayo, did you?

- I have her plaque here.
- Yes, she's out in the alley there...

trying to catch her breath
after all that hot air.

Only kidding, Steele.

You know, you've got style,
but stick with the detective work.

Thank you.

I'm so glad I saw you. Maybe we can get
together next week for lunch, okay?

I'll call you.
Bye, bye.

Uh, Miss Mayo, I'm sorry to disturb you,
but you forgot your plaque.

Do I have to hear your speech
all over again to get it back?

No, not at all.
You know...

you still look as lovely as you did in
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.

Danny Kaye, Boris Karloff.
RKO, 19-

- Oh, you flatter me.
- Well, there you go anyway.

Um, listen, I- I don't
mean to sound personal...

but what was it like
working with Boris Karloff?

Well, he-

Move!

Mr. Steele?

Mr. Steele?

So that's how you
broke your arm and your leg, huh, boss?

Not exactly, Mildred.

Well, you're
a lucky man, Mr. Steele.

Other than that
scratch on your finger...

I can't find anything
that requires treatment.

- Oh, reflexes like a cat.
- I'm sure.

And landing on that pile of discarded
newspapers probably helped.

Oh, damn.

I thought being the house doctor tonight
meant I'd have a relaxing evening.

I told my service to call
only for an emergency.

So... I'm afraid I'm gonna
have to run along.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Steele,
do you have a personal physician?

- Uh, no, I don't.
- Why don't you call me tomorrow if you have any discomfort.

- Okay.
- Well, good night.

- Good night, all.
- Good night, Doctor. Thank you.

Miss Mayo, you're certain no one you know
has tried to harm you?

No recent arguments with friends,
creditors, that sort of thing?

- Nothing unusual?
- Well, there has been something strange...

come to think of it.

A few weeks ago, I got
a letter from someone saying...

he was soon gonna put my name
in the headlines in a most unusual way.

Since then, I've gotten a letter
from him every few days...

saying the deadline is approaching
or something like that.

- The Fan.
- What?

Lauren Bacall, James Garner.
Paramount, 1981.

A deranged fan, feeling personally
rejected by Bacall, attempts to kill her.

Tries to murder her?

What Mr. Steele is saying
in his highly original way...

is that perhaps this correspondent
is responsible for tonight's accident.

- Oh, what an awful thought.
- And a bit far-fetched, I assure you.

Nevertheless, perhaps we should take
you home and have a look at those letters.

Oh, in that movie
you mentioned, Mr. Steele...

uh, they stop the killer,
don't they?

Yes, I think they do.
Let me see now.

The fan brutally slashes Maureen Stapleton-

Um-
Sorry.

- I'm afraid this is it.
- Well, one letter is better than none.

Postmarked four days ago.

No return address.

"Next week is almost here,
a week you'll never forget...

"the week I come into your life.

G.E.M."

He signed all of his letters like that.
Just initials.

Obviously the furtive type.

I get this image.

I get this image of the character Peter Lorre
played in The Maltese Falcon.

Wasn't he some sort
of a psychopath?

Excuse me a moment,
will you?

- Mr. Steele-
- Hmm?

As a rule, we try to avoid scaring
our clients to death.

Now, I know your cinematic references
are just meant for inspiration...

but Miss Mayo doesn't.

Now she thinks she's being stalked
by a creepy little man...

- with buggy eyes and a nervous giggle.
- Hmm. I see your point.

Perhaps I should have mentioned
Sydney Greenstreet instead, eh?

Miss Mayo, can you think of
anything else that might help?

Any possible leads?

Well, you know, it's funny. I was chatting
with Lloyd Nolan this evening...

and he mentioned some strange fan letters
he'd been getting lately.

At the time, I didn't give it a second
thought, but maybe there's a connection.

We'll check it
out tomorrow.

If it would make you feel more comfortable,
I'd be glad to stay a while longer.

Oh, thanks! I-
I think I'd feel better.

Ah, splendid!
Virginia Mayo, Lloyd Nolan.

This is the best case
we've ever worked on.

Is that when you got hurt, Miss Holt...

protecting Virginia Mayo?

No, Mildred,
the night was uneventful...

though Miss Mayo and I had a wonderful time
talking about the golden age of Hollywood.

I, on the other hand,
didn't have time for such trivia.

I got an early start
the next morning.

Lloyd Nolan had greatly admired
my little talk the evening before...

so we had no trouble
getting on.

- I put out some lines after you called me, Steele.
- Uh-huh?

Dorothy Lamour has also
heard from that punk.

- You're kidding?
- Yeah.

Dorothy Lamour! Road to Singapore.
Moon Over Burma.

Typhoon.

Oh, how dreadful. Well, I'd better see her
about this thing as well, hadn't I?

Here they are.
I only saved two.

"You don't know me now,
but in two weeks you will.

G.E.M."

"One week until
your life changes forever. G.E.M."

- And you have no idea who this G.E. M is?
- None.

Okay, well, I'll get my associate
onto it straightaway.

- Oh, one more question, Mr. Nolan. Um-
- Shoot.

I went to a revival house where they were
showing Somewhere in the Night...

but they- they lost
the last reel.

Now, John Hodiak
realizes that...

he's not George Taylor anymore,
but really Larry Cravat.

I'm dying to know
what happened at the end, eh?

You know, you're really
a strange bird for a dick, Steele.

Well, let's see. I played Lieutenant
Donald Kendall in that one.

Somehow, I rarely rose above
lieutenant in those pictures.

And Richard Conte
was the bad guy-

- Well, that's funny.
- What's wrong?

- Is something the matter?
- No, but it's odd.

The postman just passed
through the yard...

- but I got the mail an hour ago.
- Hmm.

Well, uh, what were
we talking about?

Three Days of the Condor.

No, I wasn't in that.

No, an assassin in
Three Days of the Condor...

tries to kill Robert Redford,
but he's disguised as a mailman.

- Robert Redford?
- The assassin.

No, you have lost me.

Get down!

Stay down, Steele.

The Postman Always Rings Twice.

Three times?

Steele!

I keep meaning
to have that refilled.

Oh, that must have
been a fright, boss.

A mailman trying to
drill you with a tommy gun?

Let's just say
it gives new meaning...

to the words "Special Delivery".

Unfortunately, it didn't
affect his sense of humor.

So that's how you broke your arm and
leg, right? Diving into that empty pool.

Uh- Not exactly, Mildred, no.

Are you okay, Steele?

A little damp,
but otherwise tip-top.

While Mr. Steele was
having fun mingling with the stars...

somebody had to get on with
the nuts and bolts of the investigation.

"Having fun"?

The fan letters
were our only lead, Mildred.

Even without a return address and signed
only with initials, they had a story to tell...

if you knew how to read it.

- What do you think, Morris?
- Think?

About the typewriter,
I don't have to think.

It's an Underwood Five.
Good old reliable machine.

This one has seen
its share of service.

The right beak of
the capital "T"is dented.

The left serif
of the small "Y" is gone.

There are other
distinguishing characteristics...

but those should be enough
to identify the actual machine.

- When we find it.
- That's your problem.

As to the actual stationery itself,
you're in luck.

It's very unusual.
Heavy bond ofJapanese manufacture.

Very handsome.
Very expensive.

Only a few high-class stores
in town would handle it.

- I'll make you a list.
- Oh, thanks.

The brown ink used for the initials
is also distinctive.

An English brand.

Yeah, you find the store that handles
both the paper and the ink...

you'll be closing in
on your man.

Oh, you're terrific, Morris. Listen,
just put this on our tab, okay?

Uh, tell me something, Laura.

Does your boss
ever do any legwork?

Mr. Steele's skills are hard
to define at times, Morris.

Very hard.

Sometimes
downright impossible.

See ya around.

The third store on
Morris's list paid off.

The credit records produced
a name- George Edward Mulch.

The case
was coming together.

At the time,
Mildred, I was engaged...

in an utterly charming conversation
with Dorothy Lamour.

I had come, of course,
to discuss her fan letters...

but we quickly moved on
to other subjects.

Who is it?

Oh, uh-

Uh, Miss Lamour,
it's Remington Steele.

Congratulations.

Uh, I'm the private detective
Lloyd Nolan called you about.

Oh. I expected somebody
more like Tom Selleck.

The letters are right
over there by the door.

Oh. Uh- Oh, don't
go away, Miss Lamour.

Just a moment, please.

If, uh-

If I might just ask you
a few questions, please?

You know, get some
background information.

Fire away.

Uh, perhaps, uh...

I might go inside,
you know, have a cup of tea?

I can hear you
fine from here.

Uh, is it my imagination,
Miss Lamour...

- or are you very nervous about something?
- Well, I-

- I am a little concerned about my life.
- I see.

Yes, of course. Uh, the attempts
on Miss Mayo and Mr. Nolan.

Well, you're perfectly safe
with me, rest assured.

Is that what you told
Lloyd and Virginia?

Miss Lamour, if I could
just talk to you for a bit...

it might help bring
this culprit to justice.

Well, what are we doing now,
playing Trivial Pursuit?

Ah, that marvelously
saucy delivery of yours.

No wonder Bing and Bob thought
you were the perfect comedic counterpart.

But, you know,
I think the critics...

overlooked your importance
as a dramatic actress.

- You do?
- Ah, indeed!

I mean, take Manhandled.
Dan Duryea, Sterling Hayden.

Uh, Paramount, 1949.

I mean, who could forget
your performance as Merl Kramer?

Oh, the sweet but unknowing secretary
who gets involved...

in a plot of twisted murder
and deceit.

Of such things are
movie memories made, Miss Lamour.

I'll be right down.

Mr. Steele!

Mr. Steele.

I see. Couldn't resist meeting our lady
of the sarong, eh, Laura?

- Some other time. I think I've located the fan.
- Yes?

- Yes!
- Oh. Excellent work.

Ah, Miss Lamour,
this is my associate, Laura Holt.

- How do you do?
- It's a pleasure.

My colleague here,
busy little worker bee that she is...

has just unearthed another clue
which demands my immediate attention...

so I'll have to postpone
our little t�te-�-t�te.

Shall we say later,
around cocktail hour...

- 7:00, my place?
- Get down!

The address I had
written down for George Edward Mulch...

was an office building
in the heart of old Hollywood.

We headed there immediately.

We're dealing with a very
highly disturbed personality here, Laura.

The syndrome has become
entirely too common.

Someone, usually suffering from
schizophrenic or paranoid tendencies...

decides to become famous
by killing someone famous.

Yes. I'm concerned
about what happens...

when we confront
our murderous Mr. Mulch.

So am I. That's why I decided to stop by
the office before I came to get you.

- Why?
- Check the glove compartment.

Ah. Underwood Five.

Just as Morris said.

Laura, come here.
Have a look.

Ah! We have
our man, Mr. Steele.

Ah!

Mind your backs! Mind your backs!
Please, mind your backs!

Back. Move! Stop!

Laura!

So that's how
you both got hurt.

You were hit by a car on Hollywood
Boulevard, chasing the crazy fan.

Not exactly, Mildred.

The car stoppedjust in time.

Laura!
You all right?

- Yeah.
- You all right? Ah, excellent reflexes.

Wonderful.

Come on. Oh!

Turn him around.

Let me go! Let me go, will ya?
You got no right!

We'll see about that!

Maybe you caught me, but if you think
I'm gonna tell you anything...

- you got another think comin'.
- All right, tough guy.

The three of us are gonna take
a little walk back to your office.

You can either
go awake... or asleep.

The choice is yours.

We know where you bought
the stationery, Mr. Mulch.

So, I bought
some paper. Big deal.

We can prove you wrote those letters
on your typewriter.

I don't know nothin'
about any letters.

Virginia Mayo,
Lloyd Nolan, Dorothy Lamour!

Ring any bells,
Mr. Mulch?

- You're crazy.
- Oh, come on, Georgie.

We wouldn't come here if we didn't
have any proof. Look.

Huh?

All right, I admit it.
I wrote 'em.

I didn't think
anybody would catch on.

Let's go, Mulch.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Maybe we could strike a bargain.

A trade-off, one on one.
Like, uh-

I'll give you...

the Marilyn Monroe
Modern Magic Slicer.

I'll keep
the mayonnaise recipe.

We're talking about murder, Laura,
and this man's talking about mayonnaise.

Mr. Mulch, I don't think you realize
the gravity of the situation.

Three accounts of attempted murder,
not to mention-

What murder?
What are you talking about?

We're private investigators. My name's
Remington Steele. This is, uh, Laura, uh-

- Holt.
- Private investigators?

Then you're
not with, uh...

General Foods
or Rand McNally or Popeil?

- We're tracking a killer.
- That's wonderful.

I thought you were
trying to steal my idea!

Wow! So, uh...

who's dead?

No one yet.
But in the last two days...

someone has made attempts
on the stars we mentioned.

Oh, that's terrible.
That's very bad.

That could throw off
my whole campaign.

What campaign?

You two sure you don't
work for General Foods?

- Mm.
- Okay, okay.

Look, I- I knocked around the film biz
for a long time, see.

But, recently, I've been funneling
all of my energies into...

G.E.M. Productions,
Incorporated.

I like to think of it as a, uh-
a free-flowing idea company.

- In other words, you haven't produced anything yet.
- Right.

But about a month ago,
I got this dynamite idea!

I don't know how they
come to me. They just do!

Now, listen, here it is!

A whole new national
line of products...

based on Hollywood stars.

For example, you wanna
make a sandwich...

you reach for that
bright, shiny bottle of...

Virginia Mayo!

Of course.

Listen to this. This is a killer.
You're gonna love this one.

Let's say you wanna go visit your
Aunt Bernice in Chula Vista.

But you don't have a map.
Where can you turn?

The Dorothy Lamour
Road to the United States...

Highway Directory
and Restaurant Guide.

You get it? Dorothy Lamour was in all
the Road pictures with Hope and Crosby.

The Road to the United States.!

We'll have it
for the whole free world!

Mr. Mulch, why didn't you
identify yourself in the letters?

And why
the expensive stationery?

Hey, these people,
they get offers every day.

I try to create a little mystery,
a little allure.

You see, the stationery tells 'em
that this is a class act.

The mysteriousness
lets them know...

that they're dealing
with a master of hype.

Next week,
I was gonna reveal all.

Mr. Mulch, can you pinpoint your
whereabouts in the last two hours?

Two hours? Of course. I was at
my usual stool at Musso and Frank's.

I can account for my whereabouts
every day for the last two years.

Well, Mr. Steele,
if George Edward Mulch...

isn't behind the attempted murder,
then who is?

Presumably that is why we're paying you,
Mr. Steele, to find out.

We're paying him?

It's news to me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you,
our services are on the house.

It's a privilege to serve
such, uh, honored clientele.

And we're very touched,
Mr. Steele...

but just how do you plan
to stop this psycho?

Well, we've eliminated
the- the fan letters as a clue...

so, uh, we have to come up with another
common denominator linking the three of you.

That's good thinking, Steele.

Well, it's all a part
of the deductive process...

which has, uh,
made this agency what it is.

Yes.
Please, Miss Holt...

- carry on with my thesis, will you?
- Yeah, uh-huh.

Well, the, uh-The link
could be anything.

For example, did any of you
appear in a picture together?

Lloyd and I did
St. Louis Blues.

William Frawley...

and Matty Malneck and his orchestra.
Paramount, 1939. Yes.

- Don't forget Johnny Apollo, Dottie.
- Oh.

Tyrone Power, Edward Arnold.

20th Century Fox, 19-

40.
Sorry. Excuse me.

And you, Miss Mayo?

I've never
had the pleasure.

Okay, uh, let's look
for something else.

Are any of you related?

Did you ever invest money
with the same individual?

Did you ever go out
with the same people?

Well, we're obviously
overlooking something.

In the last 24 hours...

an anonymous killer
has come after each of you.

There's got to be
a connection.

- You said this all happened in the last day, right?
- Right.

Well, there has been
one new element...

introduced into the life of
each one of us during that time period.

- What's that?
- Him.

That's right.

Me?

You.

The notion's absurd, Laura.
The killer isn't after me.

I mean the fault isn't in ourselves,
but in our stars.

I mean, all we have to do is
just find the proper clue.

The stars may have a point though.
You were with one of them...

- every time this crazy has struck.
- Coincidence.

You're certain no one
from your fabled past...

has suddenly showed up
to settle an old score?

Absolutely.

Look out!

The D.A.'s got new evidence
on Mickey Dwyer...

and Brennan gets bumped off.

I suppose that's a coincidence.

- Was Johnny in on that deal?
- No, but I was.

Well, the Palermo brothers are dead...

so that rules them out.

Listen, Daniel, what about
Edward O'Shaugnessy?

You remember,
"The Dublin Crusher. "

Oh, I see.

Well, I guess he had it
coming to him, didn't he?

All right, mate, okay.
Well, listen...

if you have an inspiration,
don't hesitate to call.

Okay? All right.

And you, mate.

I will, yeah.
Take care, Daniel. Bye-bye.

- Well?
- Well, as far as I can tell...

all my old adversaries are either
deceased, incarcerated...

- or otherwise accounted for.
- Then you must be forgetting someone.

How many enemies do you
think I have, Laura?

Mr. Steele, I have great
respect for your ability...

to generate animosity
around the glo-

What are you doing?

- White Heat is on.
- Someone's trying to kill you...

and you're gonna watch
an old movie?

Mm-hmm. I find it therapeutic.
I think better when I relax.

You like strawberries,
don't ya?

Well, she just had to
get some for her boy.

Anyway, regarding your enemies,
need I mention...

Acapulco, Cannes,
South America, Ireland-

Now, wait just a bloody minute.
The last time something like this happened...

someone was after your
Remington Steele, remember?

Major Descoine
is in prison. I checked.

Yes, but before I tumbled into your life,
you managed to put quite a few people away...

who weren't aware that
Remington Steele didn't even exist.

They didn't know you created
this shadow man to drum up business.

Now that I've slipped into Mr. Steele's
shoes, there's any number of...

ill-tempered people out there who'd like
to perforate me for your previous efforts!

I'm sorry, Laura. I'm sorry.
Didn't mean to go on.

This case
has got me jumpy too.

Yes. If someone's
trying to kill you...

it's nice to have the relative advantage
of knowing who and why.

Don't worry. I won't let anyone
harm Remington Steele.

Yours, mine or ours.

We interrupt this program
to bring this special news bulletin.

The body of wealthy
socialite Yvette Harwood...

was taken from her
Malibu home last night.

She died of
a heart attack.

Harwood, a vivacious and familiar face
on the Hollywood scene...

will be buried tomorrow
at Park Grove Cemetery.

We'll have more after this.

- Laura, I know that woman.
- Yvette Harwood?

Mm.

Backstage at
the dedication ceremonies.

I went looking for Virginia Mayo,
went in the wrong door...

and saw that woman
embracing some man.

But, you know, it's odd.

She wasn't really dressed
for the ceremonies.

Come to think of it,
she wasn't very lively either.

- What do you mean?
- I- I don't know. I mean-

At first I thought
she was relaxed...

but her head
and her arm were limp.

Right after I saw them,
the first attempt happened on my life.

Did the man see you?

Yes, tall,
good-looking fellow.

Mustache. Like one of
your American football players.

You may have just described a murderer.
It could be that...

when you saw Yvette Harwood, she was
already dead, and not from a heart attack.

Well, if that's the truth,
then the man I saw will get rid of me.

The question is,
who is he?

Oh! So that's what
it was all about.

The boss had accidentally
seen a murderer.

But how did you two
find out who the creep was?

Well, Mildred...

the room was ablaze with ideas,
but we didn't have a chance to act upon them.

- Who is it?
- Nolan.

- Ah, Mr. Nolan. Hello.
- Good evening, Miss Holt.

- Hello, Mr. Nolan.
- My, you two certainly put in a lot of hours together.

We never close.

You know, Steele...

I'm sorry to
disturb you at home...

but since you have decided to put
your hide on the line in order to save mine...

however mistakenly,
I've done you a favor.

- Oh, really?
- Julian!

Come in.

This is my cousin's
youngster, Julian.

- Oh. Pleasure to meet you.
- How do you do, sir?

You see, having watched you
at work, Steele...

I've decided that
you need some muscle.

Now, no disrespect...

but let's face it,
Dirty Harry, you ain't.

Mr. Steele's residence.
Laura Holt speaking.

Uh, why don't you
just come in, uh, Julian?

Stay right there, and don't worry.
We'll be right over.

- Let's go.
- Where?

That was Virginia Mayo. It's about
Yvette Harwood. I'll explain in the car.

Mr. Nolan, thank you for the offer,
but this Harwood matter...

and the attempt on my life...
and everything like that, I-

Listen, will you
stop talking and move!

- My sentiments exactly.
- Is he always that talky?

Yakety, yakety, yakety.

Virginia Mayo and Dorothy
Lamour had known Yvette Harwood...

through her involvement
in the Hollywood community.

When they learned ofher death,
they were very concerned.

Yvette was vulnerable.
Sweet but not too bright.

After she was widowed, she became
easy pickings for every louse in town.

Her latest affair
was a disaster.

- She told you?
- In so many words.

The guy was using her,
but she just couldn't see it that way.

- Who was the deadbeat?
- Well, she wouldn't say.

But the last time I saw her, she said
she was thinking of dropping the guy.

She was a changed woman.
Very depressed.

She even had trouble
getting out of bed.

You told Miss Holt on the phone that you
thought Yvette was in some kind of trouble.

Make it a question, Steele.
Short and direct.

Ginny, why did you think
Yvette was in trouble?

Intuition more than anything.

But when we found out
how she died, we were sure.

Yvette was a health nut.
She ate all the right foods.

She ran five miles a day
on the beach.

She did theJane Fonda
workout tape.

You'll never convince me
she died of a heart attack.

That woman never had
a sick day in her life.

Julian, would you mind moving
your bicep a tad to the left?

Thank you.
Thank you.

What kind of artillery
you packing, Steele?

His gun is back
at the office.

I don't know how you
made it this far, Steele.

Awfully slow,
Steele.

Stage fright.

- What are you doing, Steele?
- Looking for a safe.

It might contain something relevant,
you know, like documents, papers, diaries-

Keep up with
the times, Steele.

Wall safes went out
with vaudeville. Yeah.

Ah, yes. Well, of course.
That was gonna be my next choice. Thank you.

Prescribed
for depression.

Well, somebody's
on the ball at least.

The handle... on this safe
is a little... stiff!

Julian.

- Excuse me, sir.
- Huh? Oh.

- Thank you very much.
- You're welcome, sir.

Yes. Thank you.

There we go.
There's one for you.

That's for Laura.

- That's odd.
- What?

Most of her jewelry is gone.

It could be in the safe-deposit box.

No. She liked to keep it around.

Well, it seems
most of it was sold off.

There are deposits here
from the sales.

Her balance is down to
almost nothing though.

For the past few months, she'd written
big checks to Templeton Enterprises.

- That heel?
- Who?

Ernest Templeton.
Calls himself a producer...

but he's really just
a fast-talking con man.

Most ofhis projects
never make it to the screen...

but he always manages to walk away
with a fistful of dough.

He had the gall to ask me to
do a picture for him a while back.

I told him to get lost.

- Describe him.
- Uh-

6'2". Mustache.
Broad shoulders.

I think he used to
play semipro football.

The man I saw with Yvette
backstage at the ceremony.

That fits! He used to
donate money to the Archives.

Trying to buy
some respectability, huh?

Try this for a scenario.

Templeton seduces Yvette into giving him
large amounts of money.

Yvette finally realized
she had been taken.

She found Templeton backstage
at the ceremonies.

She threatened to go
to the police.

He killed her
and brought her back here.

- Well, I'd buy that.
- Someone's coming.

Quick, scatter.
Come on.

Looking for this?

- There's a nice move, Steele.
- Sorry. Sorry.

He- He's getting away!

- Did he go?
- Yes!

Come on, driver.
Burn some rubber!

Miss Holt! By the book, Miss Holt.
We got him trapped.

- Call for backup!
- Right.

Mr. Steele?

Shh. Shh. Shh.

Come on.

Uh!

That tears it.!

No. Maybe we should
wait for the police.

What? He tries to run me over,
shoot me full of bullet holes...

and now he drops
a Sopwith Camel on us.

Come on.
Let's grab the bugger.

Oh! Stop admiring your work,
and let's get out of here!

I don't get it.
That's the end of the story.

So how did the two of you get hurt?

Oh.

Not bad, eh?

Yeah, but something
doesn't add up.

What, Mildred?

If Yvette Harwood was killed
at the ceremony...

why was the cause of death
listed as heart attack?

Who signed
the death certificate?

Uh, Dr. Roger Chandler.

Why is that name
so familiar?

Why don't you give me
a call tomorrow...

if you have any discomfort.

Of course. The doctor who treated me
at the ceremonies.

It says here...

he was Mrs. Harwood's
personal physician.

As it happened, he was acting as house
doctor at the Archives ceremonies...

when he received an urgent
phone call from her at 9:00.

She was complaining
of pains in her chest.

Damn.

I thought being the house doctor tonight
meant a relaxing evening for me.

That's right.
His beeper went off.

The doctor said that he rushed
to her house, but she was already dead.

But that's impossible.
Mrs. Harwood couldn't have called him...

because you'd just
seen her backstage.

Those beepers can be
self-activated, you know.

The doctor was in on it.

Mildred, call the police
straightaway.

Well, that's funny.
There's no dial tone.

I'll try at the nurses' station.

Dorothy Lamour said Yvette
had become a changed woman...

since she became involved
with Templeton.

Do you remember those pills
I found in Yvette's bathroom?

Mm-hmm.

Wait a minute.

"For depression.
Prescribed by Dr. Chandler. "

You know, I'll bet anything
that once these are analyzed...

they'll be found to contain drugs
that deepen depression, not cure it.

The pills kept Yvette's mind foggy,
making it easier...

for Templeton to influence her
to write him checks.

No doubt Templeton had
an insurance policy on her as well.

Templeton and the doctor milked her
for all she was worth alive...

then arranged
one, big final payoff.

Chandler and Templeton
would have had perfect alibis.

They were both at
the awards ceremony.

But Chandler didn't know Yvette had
spoiled things by coming to the ceremony.

He proceeded as planned. He tripped
his beeper in the presence of witnesses...

then went on to Yvette Harwood's house,
expecting to find her depressed and in bed-

Where he could easily kill her,
and then certify that she died of a heart attack.

Chandler and Templeton split the insurance
money, walk away, and no one's any wiser.

It would have worked, too, if I hadn't
gone looking for Virginia Mayo.

I never thought I'd be grateful
for your infatuation with Hollywood.

What is taking
Mildred so long?

I don't know.
Go check.

No one's on the floor.
It's like a tomb out there.

The Godfather. Marlon Brando,
Al Pacino. Paramount, 1972.

One of Brando's enemies clears
the hospital so he can set up a murder.

Quick, Laura. Get us out of here.
Come on. Quick!

- Quick, quick, quick!
- And how are we this morning?

I went through
Harwood's house last night...

after I heard
about Templeton...

and I believe you have
something of mine.

A bottle of pills.

Pity.

- Aaah!
- Laura- Ow!

Laura!

Nice right, Mr. Steele.

A sap the size
of DiMaggio's glove.

The world exploded in
a kaleidoscope of colors.

I reached for the wall,
but it wasn't there.

A black pool opened at my feet,
and I fell into the beckoning vortex.

Say, she's good.

"Eat Lead" Krebs,
we call her.

I like that.

We want to thank you again
for trying to protect us.

Even though you did almost
get us all killed.

All in a day's work, eh?

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0