Original subtitles

A Quinn Martin production.

I thought you were out of town.

I lied.

Why?

The reason's pretty obvious, isn't it, Maggie?

Who is he?

- You've been drinking. - I had good reason. Who is he?

- I was going to tell you about him. - Tell me.

Not when you're like this.

I'm always like this about you. Tell me.

- Please. Not now. - Now.

Where has all the gentle gone?

Chris.

You set the ground rules, Chris, remember?

No ring, no long runs.

Maggie.

Maggie. Baby. Baby.

Maggie, I didn't mean to do that. I swear, Maggie.

Maggie.

Maggie.

Baby.

The body is that of an adult Caucasian female

weighing approximately 120 pounds.

Measuring

65-and-one-half inches.

The hair is blond. The eyes are blue.

The ears, nose and mouth are essentially unremarkable

except for a small, unrepaired cavity in the left incisor.

There has to be another way for the day to begin.

There is edema of the occipital region and a depressed fracture

measuring approximately 5 centimeters of greatest diameter.

It is my opinion that the wound of the skull

produced such extensive brain damage

as to preclude the possibility of the deceased surviving the injury.

Time lapse since death, conceding the cooling rate of the body

to be approximately one degree per hour

and taking into account surrounding temperature and moisture, 12 hours.

She was dead before she hit the water.

But how long in the bay?

Well, the tidal currents flow about six hours in one direction,

and about the same in the opposite direction.

What time did you say she was found?

Just before 6 this morning.

Right about here.

Yes.

Currents were running seaward then.

If the body hadn't been recovered, she'd have gone through the gate.

If she was dumped from a boat, where would it have been?

Captain, can you make a guess?

Well, I can do better than that.

Now, here's a chart prepared

by the Hydrographic Offices of the U.S. government.

It graphs the surface conditions of the waters here.

Now, found when she was, in these latitudes,

she had to be drifting seaward on the outgoing tide.

Now, the span of time

measured by the speed of the water and the wind currents

would indicate that she had to be right about there.

- That's land. - That's right.

Belvedere.

I'll get right on it.

Wild, huh? Isn't it?

- It's beautiful. - Yeah.

And then comes night you know what you can do?

You can freak out on the stars.

It's really glorious.

Not the moon, though.

They're polluting the moon, you know?

Yesterday you weren't looking at anything, huh?

No, just leather. I mean, that's my life's work.

I neglect it, I'm a hungry child.

Yeah.

You ever seen her?

- That's a lot of girl. - Yeah.

No, I never saw her not until just this minute.

- Why? Who is she? - Maggie Ames.

What is it, a missing person or something?

Dead. She's dead.

Oh, wow.

That's a lost child, you know?

Hey, I'm sorry I can't help you out

unless you could use custom-made shoes or something like that.

You guys use a lot of shoe leather.

No, I don't think so. Thank you, anyway.

It couldn't hurt. I'll do it cheap.

Yeah. Maybe another time.

Maggie was an exciting, vibrant girl.

Clich� or no, she lit up the place where she was.

Maggie did a column for us.

Profiles in depth on the illustrious, the anonymous.

What was the last thing she wrote?

A piece on ACT, the theater group.

She picked her own assignments, did what interested her.

Well, what would interest her about a theater group?

Creativity.

Creativity interested her.

She spent more time on that column than she had on all the others.

Do you know why?

No.

No, I don't.

Maggie placed a high value on her privacy.

Not many people dared to intrude upon that.

How did she live, Mr. Martin?

I mean, habits, friends, lifestyle? Did she live alone, with someone?

Alone, I assume, I never asked her and we never discussed it.

I didn't know her friends.

I certainly have no idea why anyone would wanna kill her.

Tomorrow's news is screaming for attention, Mr. Stone.

Today's is a whisper from the dead and the buried.

Mr. Martin, thank you for your time.

Well, isn't there somebody there I can talk to about it?

I just wanna find out when the rehearsal starts.

All right, I'll wait.

Yeah, I'm still here.

What is it?

Four o'clock. And what's the name again?

William Ball.

Thank you very much. No.

No messages.

- Belvedere. - What?

It happened in Belvedere.

How do you come by that?

They found her in the bay, didn't they?

- She had a beach house over there. - And what else do you know?

Wait. You're supposed to be the Homicide heavyweight.

You give me the facts, remember? I just put them on paper.

How well did you know her, Ace?

She put out a column, I put out a column.

That's all?

Give or take an occasional lunch offer from an old man she was too busy for.

How about this beach house?

It's at the foot of the hills. Right on the water.

- She told you about it? - No. A gal at the office owned it.

Rented it to Maggie when she moved to Arizona.

412 Bay View. Say, thanks, Ace.

Nothing in life is free, Mike.

Oh, I thought we touched that base before, remember, no exclusives.

- It's just a promise. - Yeah.

Get him.

That almost sounds more personal

than just a lunch date or two not taken up on.

I take it personally every time a Maggie Ames gets chopped down.

Mike, how much good is there left in this world?

And how many people are there trying to help what little there is left?

You pull Maggie's columns, any one of them.

See how she looked at life, at people.

Everything she wrote had a smile.

Blue skies and white caps. Summer storms and rainbows.

Snowflakes and holly.

The man who killed her scrubbed all that.

In one stupid, mindless, self-centered moment,

he took something rare

and left it like that.

It's still just an investigation, Ace. Nothing says murder.

Twenty-eight years on the desk says murder to me, Mike.

And if you can't prove it, I will.

- Do you got something? - Yeah, it looks like

an errand list or something.

"Market, laundry, drugstore, gas station."

Sounds pretty flimsy.

What did you come up with?

Look, the next time the Marin County Sheriff tells us

we won't find anything, I'm gonna believe that man.

This house has got the worst vibes, you know?

It's so cold.

So impersonal.

Maybe she lit it up.

Like her editor said,

she lit up the room wherever she was.

- Hello? - What've you got?

Chris.

You got nothing, right?

Your press pass buy you insult rights?

It buys more than your badge, it seems.

Like?

Like two kids in a skiff yesterday evening off Belvedere.

Are you telling me somebody saw what happened?

Same as.

They saw a speedboat heading into the beach with a boy and a girl.

A blond girl.

A few minutes later, they saw the same boat

blasting back across the bay without the girl.

Did you get a description of the guy?

Mike, two 16-, 17-year-old red-blooded American boys.

They could describe the girl.

They could describe the boat.

The girl was Maggie.

The boat was a 20-, 22-foot custom inboard.

White with blue lightning bolts down each side of the bow.

Thanks, Ace.

Mike, if we get that boat, we get the killer.

- I'm checking marinas now. - We?

Okay, okay. I'll do it myself.

You go back to shaking doorknobs.

Chris.

- Crazy, ink-fingered fireball. - What's happened?

Well, he may have broken the case wide open.

What are we looking for?

Lightning bolts.

Lightning bolts?

Yes, of course. I know it well.

Thoroughbred.

- Privilege to berth her. - Well, I'm glad to hear it.

This is the eighth yacht harbor we've been to today.

Who owns it?

Young fellow named Roland Claridge.

Do you know if he took it out yesterday?

I must enlighten you.

Members here use their vessels at their own whim and will.

Well, do you happen to know whether he had the whim yesterday?

No, sir, I do not.

That is an intrusion we cannot condone.

But this must be the boat you described to me.

The only one of it's kind on the bay to my knowledge.

A little thoroughbred.

Well,

we may have to keep this thoroughbred in the barn for a while.

- I beg your pardon? - Impound. Police impound.

- Impound? - Yes, sir.

Well, the other chap never mentioned that.

- Other chap? - Yes.

Before you asking the same questions.

Newspaper fellow.

Chris Bane.

I was about to tell you his name. Chris Bane.

He writes a newspaper column, "Deadline."

"Deadline."

Maybe we're gonna have to start reading that column.

Yes, lieutenant. We've been expecting you.

He said that you'd be along shortly.

He?

That wouldn't by any chance be a gentleman named Chris Bane?

Scarcely a gentleman.

His interrogation of my son was indefensible.

- I had him shown out. - Score one for our side.

- I beg your pardon? - Nothing, Mrs. Claridge.

I take it then you know why we're here.

I should have sold that boat years ago. Cost a fortune.

Roland uses it semi-annually.

Oh, this is my son, Roland.

Lieutenant Stone.

I'm Inspector Keller.

Did you by any chance use the boat yesterday, Mr. Claridge?

No, he was not using his boat yesterday.

Where were you between 4:30 and 5:00?

He was here at home with me.

Can anyone else attest to that, like Roland here, for instance?

How about it, Roland?

I was at home yesterday.

Your boat was out.

Yeah, but I wasn't operating it.

- Well, do you know who was? - Do I have to answer that?

Certainly not. You don't have to answer anything.

Just that I'd rather not involve anybody else

until I understand exactly what this is all about.

Well, I'm sure that Chris Bane must have told you.

He said murder.

Who is this somebody else that you're worried about?

I can't believe he'd do a thing like that.

Well, then he won't be afraid to answer a few questions, will he?

His name is Peter. Peter Anthony.

- He was using it yesterday? - All day.

Where can we find him?

No. I have no idea where he lives.

But Roland, how do you know anybody like that?

We study together.

You go to school?

My son studies theater at the ACT workshop.

Devil.

She was as false as water.

Devil.

- She was a liar gone to burning hell. - Devil.

Very good, very good. John.

Allow the tension to build just a little bit longer before you pull the trigger.

And we'll take a ten-minute break,

and then we'll start from the top of the scene.

He's really good, your Othello.

- Oh, you recognized it. - Sure, sure. I liked it.

- What part does Peter Anthony play? - Cassio.

When does he come on?

I don't rehearse with him again till tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

You happen to know where we can find him today?

Afraid not.

Well, what about your office?

Would they have his phone number or address?

Not for Peter.

Why is that?

Well, personal reasons.

His parents objected pretty strongly to his becoming an actor.

It's a pity too because he's very gifted and he could use their support.

What time is the rehearsal tomorrow?

I'm working with Desdemona till 11:00 and I'll begin with Peter then.

Great. Thank you very much.

Say, there's one more thing. Please, Mr. Ball.

There's a young woman reporter

working on a column about your theater. Maggie Ames.

Oh, I heard about her death. Is that what you're investigating?

Yes. Yes. We were wondering

if she focused her interviews on anyone in particular.

- Well... - Peter Anthony?

Peter?

Oh, if you're assuming that Peter had anything to do

with that young woman's death, that's pretty poor casting.

Peter is very sensitive,

but he's also very self-controlled.

He's well focused, clear-headed.

I guess you could say the same thing about Othello, couldn't you, Mr. Ball?

Checking the box score?

Yeah, if Chris knows anything about this Anthony kid,

that'll make it a shutout, won't it?

Yeah. Old ink-fingers three, the fuzz zip.

It's kind of tough to get a jump on this guy.

Yeah, he always was that way.

Well, how long you really known him?

Oh, we go back a long way. Way back.

Yeah, my first day in Homicide, my first case.

Me and old Mclntyre, we--

Remember Mc--? No, that was before your time.

Well, we got out there like a shot.

And there was this reject from a college paper

walking all over the clues.

So, what did you do?

Same thing I've had to do a hundred times since.

Tell him to keep out of the way.

But no matter where you turn around, why,

you'd always trip over him.

- One-man traffic jam, huh? - Yeah.

He turned out to be a good reporter, though.

Many times, he'd come up with leads that,

well, the whole department couldn't find.

Sounds like he'd be a great cop.

- Except for one thing. - What's that?

Small item about drinking on duty.

- Does he have a problem? - No.

He just drinks as hard as he works.

Listen, is there anything in his column about the case?

No, he's taken on legalized gambling today.

- That's funny. - What?

Well, he's just so involved. You'd think he'd have something about the case.

Well, he may have written it before.

It may be one of a series, and it's gotta continue.

Come on. Let's get back to the office.

I wanna find out what they know about Peter Anthony.

Is that you, Dad?

Hey, Greg. How are you, son? How long have you been here?

I got here a little while ago.

I'm making coffee. You want some?

I think I could use a-- Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, coffee. That's a great idea. Fine.

Now, you've been working on that Maggie Ames' story.

Yeah.

How is your work going?

Oh, nothing has changed.

- I don't think it's about to, either, Dad. - Hey, you hang in there, Greg.

Aerospace is important. Lasers, galaxies, black holes.

But we've talked about all that before, haven't we?

Yeah, we've been through it.

Hey, man, that coffee smells good.

Thank you, Greg.

You know, I haven't seen you for days and I treat you like wallpaper.

How are you? How have you been? What've you been doing with yourself?

You need a buck? You need some fatherly advice?

From an absentee father?

Something like that.

I tried to see you at the paper, but you'd gone.

Okay, Greg, shoot. What's on your mind?

It's all right. You look beat.

- We'll make it some other time. - No, Greg.

Greg, don't go.

You gotta get some sleep, Dad.

I need--

What, Dad?

What we all need, I guess, Greg,

someone you can cut your heart open to,

our tired old hearts.

Oh, come on. You've got the heart of a lion.

Yeah, that's me.

Old, lion-hearted. King of the jungle.

King of the jungle with a pride of lionesses to--

No. no, not pride. Just one.

Sleek, lithe, young

with a glow about her that set men's hearts aglow.

I don't follow you, Dad.

Are you seeing somebody special now?

No.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

Why not?

- She's dead. - Dead?

Killed.

Who was she, Dad?

That girl you asked about a few minutes ago. Maggie Ames.

I didn't know.

Oh, Greg, not too many people did. I made her keep it that way.

I didn't want her to be laughed at.

I didn't want people saying what they could

if they knew she was seeing a man old enough to be her father.

It didn't matter how many times she told me

that the only thing that mattered was my love.

Oh, I pretended to believe her, but I knew better.

I knew the day would come

when she'd be able to see what anyone could see.

That day finally came.

She was killed.

Yeah.

Yeah, she was killed.

And I'm gonna find the man who took her away from me.

The man who made love to her. The man who made her die.

I'm gonna find him.

I see, right.

So then, if he actually hadn't been paid for performance,

he wouldn't have to join your guild, is that right?

Right. Okay, well, thank you very much.

Have a good evening. Bye.

What did you get from the actors' guild?

Nothing. Just that he's a student

and doesn't have to join the guild unless he gets paid.

I can't find anything like a diary or daily calendar.

Same in her bedroom.

Well, maybe she left her life at the office.

If she had one.

Judging by this, I don't know.

- Wanna pack it in? - Yeah.

You can read this on your own time.

- Beautiful handwriting. - Yeah.

Good looks.

Good taste.

I don't know.

And everything she wrote had a smile.

"Identity.

Revelation. P.A."

"Day with P.A."

Day.

Anthony.

P.A. Peter Anthony.

Telegraph.

Yeah. Sure, Mr. Bane.

I'll get it right away. Hold on.

I've got it right here in front of me, Mr. Bane.

Maggie Ames' last column. ACT.

Read what it says about Peter Anthony.

"Among the supporting cast were Peter Anthony and Marilyn Lee.

Both promising newcomers."

- Then there's some other names. - That's it?

- That's all it says about Peter Anthony? - Yes, sir.

Are you sure you haven't skipped something?

No, sir.

"Among the supporting cast were Peter Anthony and Marilyn Lee.

Both promising newcomers."

See the picture?

The face?

I finally put it all together, Mr. Bane.

And it spelled "Deadline."

- Who are you? - Me?

Oh, I'm just a dude with a telescope.

On a dock. By the beach.

In Belvedere.

- Did you talk to the police? - Me? No, no, no.

I just wanted to wait and rap with you, Mr. Bane, that's all.

Your lead.

Yeah, you're a writer, right, Mr. Bane?

Who was it that wrote,

"Silence is golden"?

Anyhow, that's not what I'm selling. I tell you what I am selling.

I'm selling a very special, unique,

heavy brand of silence.

And this brand of silence

just happens to come, as you might have guessed,

in golden.

Still your lead.

Right.

How much golden? Let's see--

Say, five long ones a week? How's that?

- No. - Hey, man, come on. Hold on.

- All I have to do is pick up-- - Three.

- Three hundred. - Yeah?

I'll only give you 2 now, you'll have the other hundred by tomorrow.

Payment date hereafter will be on Saturday.

Saturday is great. That's great.

No meetings. The money will be deposited in a post office box.

Tens, 20's, okay?

Okay. Sure, that's great.

All right, let's get on with it. Let's get it over with.

You know, I've got a boy just about your age.

Fine boy. He's bright.

He listens. He reads. He thinks.

But he has to break his behind to make it.

Not at all like you, Roger. Not poised. Not cool.

- You've got it all together. - Right.

At such an early age.

- Well, here we are. - Okay, let's get it. Come on.

- Roger. - What?

Hey, man, what is it? What this that?

What is this, huh? Hey, what--?

What's this, Maggie Ames' prints were on Claridge's boat?

Yeah, and somebody else's.

- Who, Anthony? - If that's his name.

Wait a minute. What do you mean?

There's no record of a Peter Anthony working anywhere in this city.

No criminal record. No school record. No nothing.

You did your homework last night, didn't you? An alias, huh?

What else?

A guy studying to be an actor.

Stage name, right?

- Better check the theater again. - I did.

He joined the group as Peter Anthony. Period.

Ball said he was having trouble with his parents about being an actor.

And now, he's in bigger trouble.

Mike.

I found him.

I told you to read Maggie's columns.

His name's Peter Anthony was written all over them.

Hold it. Take it easy. What are you talking about?

The killer. His name is Peter Anthony.

Here's a work draft of the last column she wrote.

Read the part I have underlined.

I haven't got my glasses. Read it.

"Among them, Peter Anthony, a very talented,

very sensitive, very attractive young man.

There is a gentleness in him and the strong undercurrents of virility.

A rare combination." That's quite a review.

Now, here's the column that was actually printed.

Come on. Read it.

"Among the supporting cast were Peter Anthony and Marilyn Lee.

Both promising newcomers." Period.

- That's all? - Yeah.

That's all. A passing reference to a guy

she couldn't say enough about in the original work draft.

Doesn't that ice it for you?

Ace, how many times have you told me

that newspapers have editors who cut your heart out?

Nobody touched Maggie's column but her.

It was written in her contract.

This figures only one way.

She was in love with this fellow, Peter Anthony.

She was trying to hide it.

Wait a minute. How do you get from a review to love?

Her calendar. You saw it, didn't you?

No. How did you?

- I went to her apartment. - How'd you get in?

The manager. It turns out he was a fan.

He reads my column before he reads the funnies every morning.

Well, I thought you would have seen the entries on the calendar.

Dinner with Peter Anthony. Supper. Breakfast. And the last item.

March 8th. A day with P.A.

March 8th. That was the day she was murdered.

I told you I'd find him for you, Mike.

- Now, you bring him in. - We've been looking for him, Ace.

You knew?

Just a suspect. Got his name from the guy who owned the boat.

A suspect?

If you can't make this stick, you're in the wrong line of work. Both of you.

Oh, come on. Come on, Ace. We'll move in on him.

Mike, I thought you ought to know. Radio unit just called in.

They found the man in an alley, dead of a bullet wound.

- Give it to Haseejian, will you? - I think you'll want this one, Mike.

They said he had a medallion in his hand.

Had a name engraved on the back.

Peter Anthony.

St. Genesius.

Actor's patron saint.

He must've torn it off the assailant.

- How long has he been dead? - Six or seven hours.

I know him, Mike.

He's the guy in Belvedere with the telescope.

And Act IV's a coffee house.

Hangout for actors. ACT is a block away.

Hey, Peter.

A couple of dudes out here to see you with badges.

They ask for me?

If you've got a stash, man, you'd better flush it.

- All right, come on. Let's go. - For what?

Suspicion of murder.

No, I didn't kill her.

We're talking about a man shot to death in an alley.

He had a medal in his hand. It was yours.

Then there was the boat you used the same day Maggie Ames was killed.

We'll talk about that too. Downtown. Come on.

Hey, look, you don't know what you're talking about.

- I didn't do it. I didn't kill anyone. - Why did you run then, huh?

I don't have to say anything.

Tell you anything.

Do I, Dad?

Pretty heavy.

Break your back to convict someone, it turns out to be your own son.

So that's the way you met. That's where you two--

That's where we met. Period.

She watched a rehearsal.

- Then she came backstage-- - I don't wanna hear any more of it.

You're going to hear.

You're going to hear the way it was, not the way you think it was.

I didn't know, Dad.

I didn't know until you told me.

And it tore me up.

- She knew, didn't she? - Not at first.

But she found out. Did she tell you? Did she tell you?

Was she the kind of person to hurt anyone that way?

You were living a lie. A rotten, stinking--

She lived in hell.

A hell like neither one of us knew because she wouldn't let us know.

She tried to spare us that.

Listen to me.

What happened with us, just happened.

There didn't seem to be any way either one of us could control it.

Then she told me it had to stop.

There was another man.

Someone she loved very deeply.

In a different way.

Someone she didn't wanna hurt.

You think that's what I wanna hear?

You think that's gonna make me forgive either one of you?

I don't know about forgiving, but you taught me about truth.

You've dedicated your whole life to it, haven't you?

You can face it now.

The truth is,

she didn't know who I was until I told her.

Until I bragged about my father being pretty big in her field himself.

I told her he was Chris Bane.

And that's--

That's when she got the place on the beach.

So she could be alone to think.

Do you realize what she had to be thinking, Dad?

That had to be like broken glass inside her.

There's another truth, Dad.

I took Maggie to the island that day, on the boat.

But I didn't kill her.

I know that, Greg.

- Mike. - Yeah.

Mike, I--

Mike, I've got news for you.

There's no way you can hold that boy.

- You heard the evidence, Ace. - What evidence?

- Circumstantial, fragmentary-- - That's not what you were saying.

- You ever made a mistake, Mike? - Yeah, sure. A lot of them.

And for what it's worth,

I hope we've all made one about Greg.

But it doesn't look that way right now.

It will, when I finish.

I don't care how many lawyers I have to hire.

How many IOU's I have to call in.

How many doors I have to knock down to collect.

I put him in here. I'll get him out.

You're gonna book him now?

- Why? - Just thinking.

Booking slips like a tattoo.

Stays with you no matter how things turn out.

You think things are gonna turn out different too?

Well, according to Chris Bane, they are.

And up until now, he's been a regular walking oracle, hasn't he?

You don't make that sound like a compliment, buddy boy.

I don't know, Mike. I don't know.

All right.

He turns us on to the beach house, right?

Right.

And the boat. And Maggie Ames' column.

- And her calendar. - So?

If it was you that was telling me those things,

maybe I'd believe they were facts,

but him, Chris Bane? I don't know, Mike.

Now, wait a minute, do you know what you're saying?

All I'm saying is, we never found the two kids he says saw the boat,

and I looked all over that area.

Well, it's not the first time he's had a head start on this department.

Mike, it's like you said, this is not his beat.

And he's not doing it for his paper.

And you can't tell me you buy his story

about a couple of lunches Maggie Ames turned down

without pursuing it further.

Unless he was a good friend.

Mike, tell me I'm wrong, I'll shut up.

Now, you listen to me.

If you ever back off because of something personal,

I'll stuff your head in your pocket.

No. Things have been bothering me too.

The guy in the alley?

He tells you he never met Maggie Ames

and yet he ends up stiff with a medal

that she bought for the kid.

Well, I figure what he didn't tell me, he told somebody else.

- Blackmail. - Yeah.

But who is that somebody else?

It isn't the kid who carries a spear in Othello.

What could he cough up?

Unless--

You're right.

Unless that somebody else he met...

...that somebody else that he saw through a telescope

was Chris.

Yeah.

Well, that's one lousy thing to say about a guy

that you've known for half your life.

Mike, you're just reading the cards the way they fall, that's all.

You're right. All right.

Let's...

...check two more cards, shall we?

When Chris Bane called us in Belvedere.

I guess we better find out how he got that number.

- See if it's listed. - It's not.

You checked that out too.

Private line installed to Maggie Ames ten days ago.

I don't see how he could have gotten it.

No, sir, I didn't let Mr. Bane into this apartment.

I mean, why would I? He has his own key.

- I know. - It's right this way, sir.

- Did I do something wrong? - No.

Nobody told me what to do about anybody who--

I know, just let us in, please?

You got it made, old pro?

Everything but the why.

I haven't got that myself.

I can tell you I loved her.

I can tell you I found out she was seeing somebody else.

I can tell you I was half out of my head.

Drank too many martinis,

and when I saw her step off that boat, I--

But all that doesn't make motive, does it, Mike?

Not to a man who considers himself rational.

I didn't know it was Greg.

And she didn't know it was my son. It was all a terrible--

Let's go downtown, Ace.

Do you got enough to let the boy go?

I suppose, Mike, you know, I also...

...killed that little hustler...

...with this gun.

- What are you gonna buy with that? - Time.

My son goes free.

I buy enough time to get lost.

There's only one way you can do it.

- Squeeze the trigger. - Twice.

Just a few hours, Mike.

Sorry, Ace.

Like I've always told you.

No exclusives.

- Hey, Greg was good, huh? - He was great. Really great.

- Play really works, too, doesn't it? - I guess.

You guess? What do you mean, you guess?

Sixteenth-century play that comes to life like that?

With such contemporary values?

A theme that still holds up?

Holds up? I'll tell you what holds up.

- Abie's Irish Rose. - Abie's Irish Rose?

How can you even compare those two plays?

They're both plays, aren't they? They both have actors, don't they?

- You're putting me on. - No, I'm not.

Whisper

of the dead and buried.

What?

Oh, nothing, nothing. Come on. I'll buy you a chilidog, huh?

- A chilidog? - That's right. A chilidog.

Everybody goes for a snack after the theater.

Tradition.

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