All language subtitles for Remington Steele s04e11 Steele Inc.eng

- What did you say the victim's name was?
- Steele.

Remington Steele.

I've been kidnapped, shot at, murdered.
It's not even noon yet.

We have unfinished business,
Steele.

- Who are you?
- Good to meet you, Steele.

- Pleasure to be on your team.
- My team?

- Time's up, Steele.
- All right, Mr. Steele.

I don't have the time or the patience
to play games with you.

- Miss Holt?
- Yes?

- Mr. Steele?
- Yes?

Uh-huh. Yeah. Um-

Call me an optimist, but I would've
thought an impulsive jaunt to San Diego...

would lead to a somewhat more
kind of livelier tourist attraction.

Then you don't
recognize this man?

Uh, should I?

Would you mind telling my friend here
exactly what you told me on the phone?

All I said was
we had a hit-and-run victim.

And what did you say
the victim's name was?

Steele. Remington Steele.

Well, a distant cousin, perhaps,
but I'm afraid I'd have to deny...

any closer relationship
than that.

All levity aside, Mr. Steele,
this could be a serious matter.

- Just ask him.
- Mildred, please.

Laura, speaking as the deceased
in question here...

I think it's fair to chalk this one up
as a mere coincidence.

Call me a pessimist,
but he could've been impersonating you.

Highly unlikely.

Were there any other
identifying effects with the body?

Credit cards, pictures,
business cards- anything?

Just an address on a piece of paper
that his name was on.

Uh, the Bay Building,
Suite 101.

- Mildred! Are you okay?
- All right, Mildred?

You look a bit pale there.
Come sit down. Come on.

Over here.
Here you go.

Where exactly
is the Bay Building?

Mission Bay.
About 15, 20 minutes, tops.

- Oh.
- No pun intended, Laura...

but let's let sleeping dogs lie,
shall we?

Mildred, I'm sure fresh air
will make you feel much better.

No, I really should
stay here for a while.

- Go on. You kids go ahead.
- We're not leaving you.

- Not here, certainly.
- Really, I'm okay. Go.

- Yeah?
- All right. We'll be back as soon as we can.

Okay? What time do you close?

We service the community 24 hours
a day, seven days a week.

Just like 7-Eleven.

Okay.
See you later.

- You got a back door outta here?
- Sure. Over there.

Oysters baked, oysters on the half shell
and oysters Rockefeller...

some of that Don "Perigreen"
and just a smidge of your finest caviar.

- All right.
- George Mulch!

Mildred, what are you doin'
down here?

Gentleman,
this is Mildred Krebs.

This is the lady that I
was telling you about!

The hub of the organization,
the foundation of the structure...

the backbone
of the... skeleton!

Mildred,
may I introduce Dallas?

How do you do?
I'm charmed to meet you.

- Detroit.
- Hi.

- And San Francisco.
- Hello.

Pleasure to meet you,
gentlemen.

- Mr. Mulch, might I confer with you
in private, please?

Conferences, conferences.

Hold my oysters Rockefeller
for the nonce. Bless you.

Mildred, why such a long face
on such a happy occasion?

How could you?

Something's the matter?

Larry!

Larry, Larry, Larry.

I think we've established
his name.

- Who is he?
- He-

He was a business associate
of mine.

He was superb at getting exactly
what anybody wanted.

He got me some, uh,
office furniture.

Although, I think the pieces
were a tad warm...

if you catch my meaning.

Well, what is he doing here registered
under the name of Remington Steele?

- He is?
- Come on, Mulch.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Where we goin' now?

Bay Building, Suite 101.

Oh! Oh.

Oh!

- This must be it.
- Ah, Laura...

what do you say, once we nip
your suspicions in the bud here...

we take in some of
the sights, eh?

Pearl diving at the zoo.
Water skiing in the bay.

Might even pop down to Tijuana.
Get the Rabbit reupholstered, eh?

Need I remind you that you may
have been murdered last night?

That shouldn't impede us
from having a good time.

Ever been kissed
by a sperm whale?

Not without protection.

Suite 100.

Here it is.
Suite 101.

Uh-huh.

Why do I get the uneasy feeling
Rod Serling is behind one of those doors?

I'd rather find him there
than another Remington Steele.

Shall we?

At least the view's different.

- All right, let's have it.
- Have what?

Don't try to play innocent with me.
This is right up your alley.

Laura, I swear to you, I'm as much
in the dark about this as you are.

I stood behind you when you thought
you were being framed for murder.

I appreciated the circumstances involved
when you lost our investigator's license.

I even believed you when it appeared as though
you gambled away the agency in a poker game.

But this? Not this.

Laura, I'm as innocent about this as-

- Remington Steele.
- Uh, yes?

Ooh!

You got exactly one hour
to come up with some answers...

or you're a dead man.

Your last name wouldn't happen
to be Serling, would it?

Move!

He hit me, Laura.

Oh, Vickie, dear, see to your studies.

Mummy has some business
to attend to.

Yes, Mummy.

Sit down.

Let's get right to the point,
Mr. Steele.

- By all means, Mrs. -
- Underwood.

A name that historically
has not taken kindly to betrayal.

- Who does?
- When I hired you-

When you hired me?

- When I talked to you.
- We spoke on the phone?

Are you trying
to play games with me?

Uh, no, no.
Absolutely not.

Pardon me, Mrs. Underwood.
I'm Laura Holt, Mr. Steele's associate.

Obviously, he hasn't had
the opportunity to fill me in.

What exactly
did you hire him to do?

To pick up a package for me.

- What was in the package?
- Never mind what was in the package.

I told you on the phone
that that wasn't any of your business.

Uh, yes, yes. My apologies.

Sometimes our caseload
can be somewhat overwhelming.

Why do you think Mr. Steele
betrayed you?

I paid him $5,000 to pick up
a package for me at a locker.

He took the money,
but he did not deliver.

I will not tolerate being
blackmailed for more money.

You will not leave this house
until I get that package.

That sounds very much
like a threat.

And a pretty good one at that.
Miss Holt, any thoughts?

Uh, just one.

Forgive me, Mrs. Underwood.

- For what?
- This!

Not in the house, damn it!

Come on!

Takes your breath away,
don't it?

How in the world could you
do something like this?

That's the beauty part.
None of this cost us a penny.

I sold some venture
capitalists on the idea...

and boom,
prototype money up front!

Where do you get off opening up a branch
office of Remington Steele Investigations?

Mildred, I must say I'm
surprised at your reaction.

You're the one that okayed
the franchise idea. Remember?

You showed me some renderings. You asked
me about the Bay Building in San Diego.

I said it sounded interesting. That's all.
I didn't say to do it!

Mildred, I can't entice
outside investors...

with renderings alone.

They don't give up the green
until they see it in 3-D.

Mildred, listen to me. We are dancin'
on the edge of greatness here.

Think about it.
Where would Big Mac be today...

if he stayed in that same corner
burger stand where he started?

The answer: nowhere.

Where is he today?
Everywhere.

Detective agencies, hamburgers-
It's all the same thing.

We could be in every city
in the entire U.S. of A. in neon lights.

"Remington Steele
Investigations, Inc.

Millions of clients served. "

You've cracked.

You've gone over.

You've lost your marbles.

How are you ever going to explain
this to Mr. Steele, let alone Miss Holt?

A picture is worth
a thousand words.

That guy in the morgue probably got himself
killed because of all of this, you know.

Yeah. Poor Larry.

He would play any angle
to turn a fast buck.

But he did a beautiful job with
the furniture. Don't you think?

Hey, how about that?
Finally caught somebody here.

- What's this?
- Postage due. Normally...

I just would've left it for you with
a little envelope to pay me later for it.

But seein' as how
you're new and all here-

Well, anyway, you can claim it
at the local post office.

Just bring some pocket change.

- That's a clue!
- What's a clue?

The Maltese Falcon.
Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, um-

Um, you know, all those other guys.

Bogey got the bird, but, to protect himself,
he put it in the mail.

This could be the same thing.
Don't you see?

- See what?
- Come on.

Here you are, you sly dog!
Did you forget about us at the restaurant?

We hardly even had a chance
to say howdy to Miss Krebs.

- Detroit, right?
- No, ma'am. Dallas.

- Then you're Detroit.
- San Francisco.

- Detroit.
- Geography was never my strong suit.

- Gentlemen, I think- - So this is what
our branch offices are gonna look like?

- This is impressive.
- Art deco. Classy touch.

This is nice, George.
I like this a lot.

Uh, gents, I wish we had
more time to discuss the ambience.

Unfortunately, Miss Krebs and I
have to attend to an urgent...

private eye type of situation
at the moment.

I'm sure you understand.

Can you tell us something
about the case?

Uh, did you ever see
The Maltese Falcon?

- No.
- See it, without delay.

Mulch, this franchise bird
is never gonna fly.

I guarantee it.
You should tell them that now.

Oh, why burst their bubble?

Besides, we got a clue.

Oh, splendid!
Just splendid!

It would cap a perfect morning to get
arrested for driving a stolen lawn mower.

Just drive slowly.
I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about.
I've been impersonated...

assaulted, kidnapped,
shot at, murdered.

It's not even noon yet.

San Diego's quickly losing
its appeal for me.

At least we have something
to work with.

We know Mrs. Underwood
desperately wants some sort of package...

and we know she hired you- I mean,
the impostor- to retrieve it for her.

Obviously, she never saw
the fraud face-to-face.

The impostor must have answered the
phone when she called this bogus office.

He took the hire, but was killed
before he could deliver.

So now Mrs. Underwood
and her enchanting shadow...

believe that I have
her precious package.

Hello. Hi.

I think the first order
of the day is to find that package.

Perhaps our impostor might
be able to shed some light on the subject.

Good idea. I think we'd better check
on Mildred too.

- May I help you?
- Oh, yeah.

You can run,
but you can't hide, Mulch.

Sooner or later, you're gonna have to explain
this whole thing to Mr. Steele and Miss Holt.

Mildred,
you don't understand.

This could be the clue
to Larry's murder.

What better way
of smoothing things over...

with Miss Holt and Mr. Steele
than by solving the crime?

This is addressed to a Remington Steele.
Are you Steele?

Um, in the flesh.

There's 22 cents postage due.

You're slippery, Steele.

You thought you could
pull a fast one.

Now back up, real slowly.

You too!

Don't you want your change?

Keep it.

You guys are becoming regulars
around here, aren't you?

- Where's Mildred?
- What's her last name?

She means the lady who
wasn't feeling very well.

- Remember? We left her here earlier.
- Oh, right.

She's come and gone
a couple of times herself.

- She has?
- Whatever turns you on, I guess.

Do you mind if we have a look
at the body again, please?

You too, huh?
What was the name on that again?

- Remington Steele.
- Oh, he's gone.

- Gone?
- Where?

- Somebody claimed him.
- Who?

Oh, his widow, Mrs. Steele.

Mrs. Steele?

Congratulations.
Who's the lucky lady?

Uh, Laura,
how can we be certain...

that it was Vickie Underwood
who claimed the body? Ahh!

Do you know of anybody else who fits
the morgue attendant's description?

Nope. But then I'm new in town.

What's puzzling me is
why Vickie claimed your body.

I hate it when you put it that way.
Hate it.

Well, one thing's certain.

The murderer's undoubtedly
an Underwood.

- You hated me! You've always hated me!
- I did not hate you!

- You old hag!
- Ahh!

Trouble in paradise.

Don't dawdle, Laura.
We don't wanna lose our quarry.

Faith! Let's talk about faith!

Brothers and sisters,
the Bible says show God you love him...

and he will show you the way.

Faith is love...

and love is hope,
and hope is belief...

and belief is the very faith
he asks of you.!

So dig deep into your pockets
for the Lord...

and show him
how much faith you have.

- Take five, brothers.
- All right.

Don't let anyone in
unless I tell you.

When I return
with the Reverend, Steele...

you'd better have come up
with some answers...

or you'd better say
your prayers.

You don't understand.
I'm not Stee-Ahh!

- What are you doin'?
- Saving our hides.

Are you crazy, Mildred?
That man wants to kill me...

because he thinks
I'm Remington Steele.

- If you'd only let me explain-
- He would've blown both our heads off.

Don't you see? The only reason
he hasn't bumped us off yet...

is because he thinks
you're the boss.

If he wanted us out of the picture,
he would've done it by now.

He wants something
from Mr. Steele...

and I, for one, would hate
to disappoint the man.

- He seems a little edgy.
- Oh. Oh, great.

That's- How do I get
into these situations here?

All I ever wanted
was fame and fortune.

- Is that too much to ask?
- Come on.

Pick yourself up.
After all, you're the one...

who said we would solve this
problem ourselves, remember?

Yeah, that's before
there were guns involved.

Oh, look, if this man wants to think
that you're Remington Steele...

then, by God, you're gonna
be Remington Steele.

- But I can't-
- Uh-Uh-Uh. No buts.

Just look good, take the bows,
but let me do all the work.

You function best
in an advisory capacity.

You got that, Mr. Steele?

Absolutely, Miss Holt.

This murder's turning into
a family affair.

It kind of makes you feel warm
all over, doesn't it?

- Ah. I'd recognize
Remington Steele's arm anywhere.

- Where you goin'?
- To get the Rabbit.

- For what?
- So you can bring the body back up the ravine...

so we can return it
to its rightful murderer.

Then we can bring
the police in on this.

Oh, God.

Come here. Come here.

All right, Mr. Steele.
I don't have the time...

or the patience
to play games with you.

- Now, where's the package?
- The, um, uh, package-

Icy calm, Mr. Steele.
Icy calm.

- Who are you?
- I'm Laura Holt, Mr. Steele's associate.

I handle most of the nuts and bolts,
while Mr. Steele...

functions best
in an advisory capacity.

Mrs. Underwood hired you
to handle the simple task...

of delivering a package
from me to her.

Now, until she receives
that package...

my church cannot reap
its just rewards.

Repent your sins, my children...

before Brother Nick here
banishes you both to eternity!

- Amen.
- Um, exactly what package are you referring to?

Ooh! Uh, that package. Uh-

I- I remember now.
Don't you, Miss Holt?

Of course.
Who could forget that package?

Thirty seconds, Reverend.

- Where is it?
- Um, I-I'll tell you, Reverend.

Um, uh, ordinarily, I function
in a, uh, advisory capacity...

but I think I could make
an exception in your case.

Give us an hour- two, tops-
and I can assure you...

that you will have
what you're looking for.

Or my name
isn't Remington Steele.

May the Lord be with you,
as well as Brother Nick.

Amen.

Come up, brothers and sisters!
Come up and let the Lord see us together!

Praise the Lord, you're healed!

Hallelujah.!

Everybody come up.!

- I can walk! I can hear!
- Oh, she can walk!

- I can see! Oh, I'm cured!
- Hallelujah!

Bless you!

Mildred, we were great!

If only Miss Holt and Mr. Steele
could've seen us in action!

- A locker key?
- Is this exciting, or what?

Mildred, I told you the franchise
was a brilliant idea.

- I'll bet I could run the whole branch office myself.
- Shut up and drive.

Okay, I'll, uh, trip the sensor.

Get down!

Laura! Laura!

Mr. Steele? Mr. Steele?

Wait! Wait! Wait!
What about the body?

He won't mind.

Hurry up, Mr. Steele.
Don't dawdle.

- Come on.
- Oh, don't worry, Miss Holt.

I'm fairly sure nothing's broken.
No, no.

Thanks for asking. Really.

- Quickly!
- Thank you.

- What number are we looking for?
- 445.

- Are you sure no one followed us?
- Are you kidding?

We were a memory before he even got in his car.

Here it is.
Keep your fingers crossed.

Bingo!

I'll take that.

Oh, how did you find us?

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Just a memory, huh? Oh!

Who do you suppose
is in there?

Sean. Vickie.

Come on.

- Mildred!
- Miss Holt!

- Mulch!
- Mr. Steele!

Hit and run.! Murder.!
Somebody call the police.!

Laura, I don't mean
to sound paranoid...

but we do have a murder victim
of our own in the car.

- Good point.
- Uh, let's go, quick! Quickly!

- Mildred.!
- Miss Holt.

- Where have you been?
- We found a motel just down the road, and-

Never mind the motel.
I want an explanation.

We want an explanation.

Well, you certainly don't think
that I had anything to do with this?

We still don't know
what "this" is.

- Steele.
- Oh.

- We have unfinished business, Steele.
- Who are you?

- Um, um, perhaps we should step into my office.
- You too, Miss Holt.

Well, hell's bells. If it isn't
the boss man hisself.

Good to meet you, Steele.

- Pleasure to be on your team, son.
- My team?

- I'm Detroit.
- I'm San Francisco.

I'm Dallas.
Well, you probably figured that already.

The National Football League?

Steele, your time's up.

- Where's my package?
- Ah, yes.

Why don't you gentlemen come in here?
You'll be much more comfortable. There we go.

And Miss Holt and I will take
care of the whole thing, all right?

- This Remington Steele Investigations?
- Who are you?

- Sign painter.
- Uh-

I think we'll be more
comfortable in here.

- Miss Holt, would you hold my coffee, please?
- Oh.

Here we go. There we go.
Yes. Right.

Ah.

Uh, d-do you think you could
lower that a tad, Sean?

No more screwing around,
Steele. Where is it?

Well, I'm afraid we've run into a little snag.

I'm sorry. Am I intruding?
I just wanted some coffee.

Oh, no, no, not at all.
Come in, Dallas.

- I'm Detroit.
- Yes, of course you are.

Here, let me help you-

Uh, Miss Holt, you can help Detroit.

Yes. Yes. Wouldn't want the coffee
to get cold now, would we?

That's very kind of you.
Thank you. I appreciate that.

- You're welcome. Excuse me.
- Do you have any saccharine?

Rest assured now,
Reverend Rawlinson.

This situation
is completely in control.

I can explain
about Brother Nick.

Forget about Brother Nick!

What happened to the-
Who is she?

Mildred Krebs, one of the top
secretary-receptionists in the business.

Soon to be a private eye
in her own right.

Could I see you a moment,
Miss Holt?

- What are you and Mulch doing?
- It's not our fault.

Honest, Miss Holt.
The Reverend Rawlinson-

- Who's the Reverend Rawlinson?
- The guy in the white suit.

He mistook Mulch for the boss
when we found the key to the package.

You know about the package?

We had it in our hands
before Brother Nick took it.

- Who's Brother Nick?
- The guy that got nailed at the bus station.

Miss Holt?

- Yes?
- Miss Holt?

Yes?

Take over.

Mulch!

This is, uh, my associate...

George Edward Mulch.

Uh, Mr. Mulch, uh, you saw
what happened to the package.

Would you mind sharing that
with the reverend?

Give me one good reason,
Mr. Steele.

Uh, because Brother Curt here...

is holding divine intervention
in his hand, Mr. Mulch.

- No harm in asking.
- We know you're protecting your daughter, Mrs. Underwood.

Why would I protect Vickie?

Because she ran down someone named
Brother Nick at the bus station last night.

That's preposterous.
Vickie was in the house all evening...

and I'll swear to it in court.

Will you also swear you know nothing of
Sean dumping that other body in the ravine?

- Ooh!
- Oh!

Pardon me. Pardon me.
My doctor'd skin me alive...

if he knew I was drinkin' anything
in the world but decaffeinated.

If we ever get out of this alive,
George, I'm gonna kill you.

- That's fair.
- Mr. Steele?

Yes?

- Uh, Detroit.
- San Francisco.

- Mr. Steele?
- Uh-

- Miss Holt.
- I know that!

No more games.
You know what I want, and I want it now.

Or else what? Are you going to have Sean
kill everyone in this office?

Oh, I wish you hadn't said that, Laura.

Time's up, Steele.

Let's go.

Oh.

Something fishy's
goin' on around here.

I don't like it.

I'm pullin' out.

- Rawlinson!
- Underwood!

- Sean!
- Curt!

- I don't believe I did that.
- Wait in line!

Detroit, keep that gun
trained on Brother Curt.

- Mildred, call the police.
- Right.

Dallas, would you escort
this man Sean to the hospital?

My first outlaw.
You betcha.

San Francisco, keep an eye
on Reverend Rawlinson.

You can't hold me.
I'm a man of the cloth.

Besides, Brother Curt
acted on his own free will.

Mulch, you and Mildred stay here
and keep an eye on Mrs. Underwood...

that she doesn't get near
the phone and call Vickie.

- Where are you going?
- To the only person who still isn't looking for the package.

Hmm? Brilliant.

- Going somewhere, Vickie?
- Somewhere far away, it would appear.

Please leave me alone.
I gotta get out of here.

Didn't Mummy ever tell you?
Murder's illegal in this state.

Murder?
But you don't think that I-

Oh, come now, Vickie.

We know
what's in the package.

We do?

- How did you find out about it?
- Uh, let's just say...

it slipped out in a little soiree...

between your mother
and the Reverend Rawlinson.

That phony.
He videotaped me and Nicky in bed...

just so he could blackmail Mummy.

He needed a million dollars
for his new church...

and he knew how much
Mummy would pay...

to keep me under her thumb...

to keep Nicholas away from me.

That's why I'm leaving forever.

Only you didn't want anybody to
have that tape, did you, Vickie?

You found out whom your mother hired
to get the package, and you killed him.

Then when it wasn't with
the effects at the morgue...

you went back to the bus station
where you killed Brother Nick...

finally getting your hands
on the tape.

Excellent deduction, Miss Holt. We have you
dead to rights for double murder, Vickie.

I don't have the tape.

And why would I kill Nicholas?

I loved Nicky.

We were going away together.

Starting fresh.
Away from my mother's grasp.

We've got you for one murder,
and we'll take that.

I didn't kill the first man either.
Mummy did.

She didn't want to have to pay
the money for the tape.

And then,
she made me claim the body.

But she still
couldn't find that tape.

Then when she saw Nicholas with-

Oh, Nicky.

- Mrs. Underwood?
- It makes sense.

Why would Vickie
kill the man she loved?

And the woman's hand at the station
could've been Mrs. Underwood's.

- All except for one thing.
- What?

How can a person who
can't even walk drive?

Unless that person
actually can walk.

- What are you doing out here?
- Where's Mrs. Underwood?

You know how you told us on the phone all we
have to do is prove the old lady can walk?

- Right.
- We figured out a way how!

By setting fire
to the office?

- Uh, I'm just an observer here.
- It's not dangerous.

It's just a few rags.
That's all.

You see, I disconnected
the phone and bolted the door.

- Are you crazy?
- What?

The woman's choking to death
in there! Here! Give me that!

Ooh! Ooh!
Wait a minute. Look.

So I'm crazy, huh?

Oh! Hurry!

There you go.
Put your arm around me.

All right. Let me put you down
here on the sofa.

Here we go, Mrs. Under- Okay.
Mind yourself now.

Put your legs up.
Are you all right?

Mulch, get me some water.
Mrs. Underwood, are you okay?

Say something, please.
Anything. Say something.

Come up here. Okay. You all right?

- Your phone doesn't work.
- Yes, well, don't worry.

I assure you we'll take care
of that problem.

- You've done enough for one day.
- Mrs. Underwood, we're so sorry.

- Are you sure you're all right?
- You saved my life.

Uh-huh. Do you realize
what this means?

We were right in the first place.
It's Vickie.

She went crazy when I told her
that Nick didn't love her-

that he did it only
to help blackmail me.

Do you know
where Vickie was going?

Faith. Let's talk about faith.

Faith is not something
you can buy.

Faith is not
something you can borrow.

Faith is not something
you can barter.

Faith is something you give
to him unconditionally...

in return for which
he gives you love.

Love is faith.

Faith is love.
Love is hope.

Hope is belief,
and belief is the very faith...

he expects of you.!

- Do I hear an "amen"?
- Amen.!

- Do I hear an "amen"?
- Amen.!

Amen!

Give it to me!

This time, you really do have something
to cry about- first degree murder.

I could've been killed.
Thank God.

I wouldn't be too grateful
if I were you, mate.

He undoubtedly wants you to live
to pay for your sins. Come on.

Ah, take care now. So long.

- We appreciate your expressing an
interest in our business. - Well-

- I think you're making a big mistake.
- Yeah, it was really exciting.

- I'm sorry you changed your minds.
- Listen.

If you ever reconsider,
I want you to give me a call.

- We will.
- I'm gonna tell you one other thing.

Old George over there is one hell of a salesman.

- We'll see y'all.
- Yeah, bye-bye. Take care, guys.

Come on, George. Chin up, mate.
All is forgiven.

Franchising the agency
isn't such a bad idea on paper.

But the last thing Mr. Steele and I need
getting between us is more paperwork.

I don't know.
It just seems like that brass ring...

is forever beyond my reach.

Oh, well, it would probably
corrode in my hands anyway.

Oh, come on, George.

You fall off a horse,
you gotta get right back on.

Just don't straddle
one of ours next time.

Yeah.

We didn't do too badly actually.

We prevented one murder,
solved two others...

and rid the religious world
of one bad apple.

- Mm-hmm. Who said San Diego was a boring city?
- How much?

- Come on. Let's go. George. Bye, mate.
- Wait a minute. Hold on.

Steele, Steele, Steele!

It's Dallas.
He's calling from a phone booth.

He says he'll pay us 50 grand,
cash, to reconsider.

- Cash!
- Yeah?

- Coming, Mr. Steele?
- Uh, behind you all the way, Miss Holt.

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