Original subtitles

This is my boss,

Jonathan hart, a self-made millionaire.

He's quite a guy.

This is Mrs. H. She's gorgeous.

She's one lady who knows how to take care of herself.

By the way, my name is Max.

I take care of both of them,

which ain't easy 'cause when they met,

it was murder.

[♪♪]

[Barks]

[Gavin] We maclaishes are one of the oldest Scottish clans,

with members scattered throughout the world.

We embrace nearly 100 sub-clans or septs:

The macfarrens, the caldwoods,

the murdocks, and names like that.

[Jennifer] Ah.

Well, sir Gavin, I'm interested

in writing an article about the entire clan system.

All the history, the traditions,

how it's managed to exist all this time

across national boundaries.

Right through here.

Oh, thank you.

I'll be glad to give you an interview, young woman,

but I'm a wee bit tired.

That's the trouble with being the chieftain of a clan

in this modern age.

Oh, fine. You spend half your life fighting the jet lag.

I understand.

Sir Gavin came over a few days early

so he could rest up before the games as my guest.

This is beautiful.

Thank you.

Now, forgive me, Mrs. Hart,

but we have some important business to discuss.

Of course.

Perhaps we can arrange for an appointment?

Why don't you call me in the morning? I'll set it up.

Wonderful. Thank you.

I'll look forward to seeing you again. Sir Gavin.

Bye-bye.

[Gavin] Ah!

You've done a grand job here, Ramsey maclaish.

A wee bit of Scotland in Malibu, California.

It's an honor to have you in my home.

Right this way, sir Gavin.

You said in your cable you had a problem.

Our relationship is a distant one, little Ramsey maclaish,

genealogically and geographically,

but you are my logical heir.

Well, I'm glad you came to me.

Hell, blood is thicker than water.

Aye, it is. It is.

You said something about a valuable discovery.

An elderly uncle died,

and I found this old parchment among his papers.

[Gavin] It proves beyond a shadow of a doubt

that a certain relic, a Scottish national treasure,

is buried on my estate,

beneath the foundations of glengowry castle.

King Duncan's claymore.

The royal ceremonial sword.

Forged in gold and studded with gems.

It must be worth several million.

But I don't see your problem.

All you've got to do is dig it up.

Problem is,

glengowry castle no longer belongs to me.

Regrettably, for some years,

I have been unable to pay my taxes.

Her majesty's government is about to foreclose,

turn me out!

Ah, I see.

You want me to pay your taxes.

How do you plan to pay me back?

By putting the sword on display in the castle

for the tourists.

[Gavin] Mind you, it may take a few years.

[Ramsey] Has anyone else seen this document?

Not another living soul.

I flew straight here from Edinburgh.

Sir Gavin,

let's take a drink.

To the sword.

To the sword of Duncan.

I'm sure you know your Macbeth.

"There's danger in men's smiles,

"the near in blood,

"the nearer bloody."

Colonel.

Ah.

Let's get him up to the guest room.

Old chieftains should die in comfort in their beds.

That's got it, Mrs. H.

Oh, Max, I don't know.

You think it's a little too loud?

No, but it ain't exactly whispering either.

It looked a lot different in the pattern book.

No, you did fine. It looks great.

[Barks]

Hello, freeway.

How are you, boy? Come on. Come on. [Barks]

Hi, Mr. H. Hi, Max.

Hi, darling. Hello.

How was your day?

I don't really know yet.

Oh, when will you know?

I will know in about two minutes

when the business news goes on.

We put some stock on the market today.

Maybe we make a killing, and maybe we didn't.

Would you like something to drink? No, thank you.

Do you notice anything different?

Different? Uh, turn around.

You got your hair cut.

My hair?

No.

New lipstick?

No.

New, uh, sweater outfit, the slacks?

Mmm-mmm.

I noticed them the moment I walked in.

You did? I like it.

You do? Uh-huh.

Oh, great!

Try to resolve the state budget.

On the local front, Scottish clan chieftain sir Gavin maclaish

died last night at the home of a friend in Malibu,

reportedly of a stroke.

Sir Gavin was in California to preside over

next weekend's highland games

organized by the californian Scottish society.

He was 73.

Sir Gavin's body will be flown home to Scotland for burial.

Coming up next, we'll take a look at today's business news...

[Gasps]

I just saw him yesterday.

He was fine.

Just a little tired, but... fine.

Well, wasn't he...

Quite an old man?

[Clicks tongue]

I guess so.

Boy, he was so sweet.

I'll call the society.

I suppose they're having a funeral for him.

I'd like to go, if you don't mind.

Oh, no.

I'm real sorry, darling.

[Bagpipes playing]

[Bagpipes stop]

[Ramsey] Well, there he goes,

taking the high road to Scotland,

back to the hills of his beginnings.

Did he suffer much pain?

No, I don't think so.

He didn't come down to dinner,

so when I went to the bed,

I stopped by his room.

He was in a coma, scarcely breathing.

I called Dr. Baird, but it was no use.

By the time that he got there,

sir Gavin was gone.

Oh, excuse me.

This is my husband, Jonathan hart.

Ramsey maclaish,

and, uh... How do you do?

Jeannie marnach,

secretary to the Scottish society.

And chairperson to the clan council.

Oh. For my sins.

Oh, and this is Alec seton,

our champion weight thrower.

Pleasure. Mrs. Hart. Mr. Hart.

How do you do? How do you do?

Jennifer, I do hope

you go ahead with the article about us.

I'm just sure

that's what sir Gavin would've wanted.

Well, if that's what you think, I'd be delighted.

[Jennifer] When can we talk? [Jeannie] Well, you'll have to bear with me.

The games are less than a week away,

and now I do have to call a special meeting.

Special meeting? What for?

To decide who's gonna succeed sir Gavin

as maclaish of maclaish.

And take over the glengowry estates in Scotland.

Decide? It's a formality.

I'm his only relative.

[Jeannie] You know the tradition very well.

Succession isn't only determined by bloodline.

I mean, the council does has to approve.

Jeannie, half the council lives in Scotland!

[Jeannie] I've already cabled them.

Either they'll fly over here,

or they'll give me their proxies.

You're really gonna put it to a vote?

Old-time clan democracy!

My! My!

[Ramsey] Ah, suit yourself!

Just make sure you elect someone

who'll support all your activities

the way I have.

[Engine starts]

Well, he certainly is confident.

He's rich.

Having money doesn't make a chieftain.

We need a person of unimpeachable honor.

He's just unfit!

Among other things, Ramsey's chemical company

was fined for secretly dumping toxic waste materials.

Not exactly what you would call public-spirited.

The problem is that he was born in Scotland

and he does have the hereditary claim,

and that still carries a lot of weight with the council.

Why don't you run against him?

Well, you know, if I don't find a stronger candidate,

I might have to do that.

She'd get my vote.

They say...

That that is Bonnie prince Charles'

favorite liqueur.

Oh? Hmm. Cheers.

Cheers.

Oh!

If he'd have given this to his generals,

he would've beat the English for sure.

Sorry to disturb you,

but you got a visitor.

Isn't it a little late?

She says it's urgent.

She's on her way up from the gate.

She?

Oh, hello, Max.

Forgive me for just bursting in like this,

but I have been on the phone

to Edinburgh all day, and...

Jennifer, you're not gonna believe this.

You're a member of our clan!

Me?

How?

Your great-aunt morag.

She was a caldwood.

And the caldwoods of auchtenferry are a sept

of the great clan maclaish.

Now, now, just according to my sources,

she was married to Cullen maclaish of drumgarbie,

the third son of Hamish maclaish of maclaish,

the laird of invercrankie.

And that puts you in direct line.

Direct line?

What does all this mean?

It means that Mr. Ramsey t. Maclaish

is going to have a serious rival for the chieftainship.

A person of equally strong hereditary claim.

You, my dear.

[Gavel pounding]

This meeting will come to order.

Sir Gavin maclaish of maclaish,

the 293rd chieftain,

died, leaving no direct descendants.

[Crowd grumbles]

Excuse me.

[Gavel pounding]

Two nominations have been received by the council.

The successor will, of course,

inherit glengowry castle in Scotland,

along with its highland estate, grousmore,

salmon fishery, and family distillery.

Sounds like a dandy place for a weekend hideaway. [Chuckles]

[Jeannie] As is our custom,

a celebration highland ball will be held

at the evening after the games

at the home of the new chieftain.

I'll look forward to having you all there as my guests.

[Crowd murmuring]

I, now, call on pipe major Donald crammond

to announce the results of the council ballot.

The count, including the proxy votes,

is as follows.

Mr. Ramsey t. Maclaish

of Los Angeles county, California,

17.

[Crowd murmurs]

Mrs. Jennifer hart, also of Los Angeles...

17.

[Crowd murmurs]

[Gavel pounding]

We have a tie vote.

So, in accordance with tradition,

the choice will be made by the clan members themselves

at the highland ball.

And I guess our only problem

is to decide where it's going to be held.

I will still be happy to host the ball.

I have every confidence in the membership.

[Crowd murmurs]

How does Jennifer hart feel about that?

Perhaps we should toss a coin.

Would the two candidates please join us for the toss?

Pipe major.

Prince Charles' crown.

I'll let the lady call.

Heads.

Heads it is.

[Crowd applauds]

[Jeannie] The ball will be held at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hart,

and that concludes the meeting.

[Gavel pounds]

Congratulations, Mrs. Hart.

I hope you know what you're getting into.

Well, actually, Mr. Maclaish, I don't.

[Ramsey] They didn't tell you? No.

Glengowry castle is a moldy, old ruin.

The distillery's closed,

the whole place is encumbered with taxes.

In fact, the British government is about to foreclose.

Well, if Jennifer does become chieftain,

it will be my pleasure to pay the taxes

and be sure that the place is restored.

Very generous campaign contribution, Mr. Hart.

I'm sure you'd do the same.

Naturally.

Well, may the best...

Person win.

We've got to give a party. Mmm-hmm.

[Typewriter clacking]

Being married to a chieftain could be a lot of fun.

Oh, I don't know.

I think this whole thing's gone a little too far.

Oh, personal involvement ought to produce

a better story, don't you think?

It's complicating everything.

What do you think the people in Scotland think about

a third-generation American becoming their chieftain?

I never even heard of aunt morag.

Hart industries has a representative in Edinburgh.

Why don't you call him and have him check it out?

What's his name? Abe Solomon.

His clan's even older than yours.

[Laughs]

A formidable rival, Mr. Maclaish.

A Bonnie lass with a rich husband.

They told me she's hosting the ball.

All I need is one more vote.

Perhaps a little lobbying,

some friendly persuasion.

Maybe one of the council would change his mind.

And Alec seton looks like the best bet.

He's not too bright.

Works for a fast food franchise.

He'll be at the stadium, training.

I'm glad I brought you over here, colonel.

The old country had nothing to offer a retired officer

with gentlemanly tastes.

This is still the land of opportunity.

I can always find work for a man of your talent.

[Bagpipes playing]

Welcome to brigadoon.

You know, I used to do

a little highland dancing when I was in school.

What made you give it up?

Oh, I kept cutting my feet on the swords.

I've been meaning to ask you, darling...

What does a chieftain's husband do?

Is it sort of like being a queen's consort?

[Chuckles] No, not really.

Actually, he has a very difficult job.

He has to tune the ceremonial bagpipes every morning.

Then he has to judge haggis cookouts. Things like that.

All work and no play! Oh, I wouldn't say that.

Life is one long highland plain.

Oh? [Both laugh]

[Bagpipes playing]

[Grunts]

[Grunting]

Let's raise it, guys. Twelve feet?

Not me! I'm through!

Not even for an Edinburgh ale?

[Chuckles] No, I'll pass.

Take care, guys. Okay, see you tomorrow, Alec! Don't overdo it.

[Grunting]

Mr. Maclaish!

You're looking good, lad!

Not bad!

You're going to win, I know it.

You got winner written all over you.

I'm a winner, too.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here.

Jon, he has something he wants to show you.

This was delivered to me this morning.

It was mailed a week ago from Scotland.

It's from sir Gavin.

"I've made a startling historic discovery

"which will solve all my financial problems

"and enable us to restore glengowry castle."

He didn't say anything to me about this.

"I'm leaving at once for California.

"By the time I see you,

I hope to have concluded a business agreement

to finance the project."

I may not be real smart.

I didn't make college or anything,

but I was brought up to be honest.

I know right from wrong.

You're trying to get me to change my vote, Mr. Maclaish!

Pay me off with a better job.

Now, hold on son. Look at it this way.

I know the way to look at it.

You're offering me a bribe.

I'm going to report this to the rest of the council.

[Clanging]

What are you suggesting, pipe major?

I'm not sure.

All I know is sir Gavin

never had any history of heart disease.

And Ramsey maclaish never said one word

about any kind of discovery

or business agreement.

[Woman screams]

[Crowd murmurs]

The weight must have fallen on his head.

Must have misjudged his throw.

It's genuine, no doubt about it.

The sword is there, just for the taking.

The IRS is on my back.

They want several millions in the next couple of months.

This damn thing's worth more than the north sea oil.

As chieftain, you'll be expected to return it to the Scottish nation.

I'll have it up for auction at christie's

the week after I take over glengowry castle.

If you take over.

Do you think I'm going to let a woman stand in the way of a chance like this?

[Bagpipes playing]

[Applause]

Oh, the highland dance is starting soon.

I'd like to see that.

Me too.

[Jeannie] Well, it's over in the open air theater.

You've got plenty of time.

Oh, good.

Excuse me. I've got some guests arriving.

Something wrong?

No, I just never realized what cute legs you have.

Will you cut it out? No, they are very cute.

You are what the Scots call a braw laddie.

How do you feel? I feel fine.

No chills? No cold?

No. No wind.

Then it's true what they say about the Scots?

What do they say about the Scots?

Oh, you know what they say. No.

Oh, come on. You can tell me.

I need to know for my article research.

Is it true? Let me have a look. Will you cut that out?

Not here. I'll give you the bare facts later.

With full exposure. Promise?

[Cheering]

[Cheering]

[Distant cheers]

[Car tires squealing]

[Shattering]

He's dead.

Mr. H?

You've got three deaths in a matter of days.

The old chieftain, apparently a coronary.

Then the young athlete gets his skull busted.

Could have been an accident. And now, this.

Are you suggesting that all three are connected?

I think it's a whole lot more

than just coincidence, Mrs. Hart.

Excuse me. Macbridger? What do you know about him?

He was a retired colonel from morayshire highlanders,

resident of California, for three years

and listed his occupation as consultant.

And he was a member of the society.

You know, quiet man, he kept to himself.

Excuse me. Lieutenant Delaney,

my wife was the target.

That arrow missed her by inches.

Macbridger tried to kill her.

Or somebody hired him

to try and kill her.

Then that somebody could still be around?

That's true.

Any idea who that might be?

I think perhaps, maybe,

you better take a look at this letter.

It was written to pipe major crammond from sir Gavin.

And, I think you ought to take a look at this telex.

It's from Scotland, urgent.

This is from Abe Solomon, our representative in Edinburgh.

"After speaking to lord Lyon, king of arms,

it has been discovered that Jennifer

has no hereditary claim.

"No bloodline connections

to clan maclaish whatsoever.

Signed, Abe."

Aunt morag.

There is no such person.

You invented her.

Why did you do that, Jeannie?

I'm sorry, I...

I just had to prevent Ramsey maclaish

from becoming chieftain.

Maybe now you understand why.

Jennifer, you were our only hope to beat him.

I'm sorry.

[Max] I don't get it.

Somebody would kill two or three people

for an honorary title and broken-down estate?

I think there's a whole lot more to it than that.

This, uh... Business deal.

Ramsey's going to be here tonight

for the ball and for the final vote.

He might try it again.

That will be our perfect chance

to bring him out into the open.

I don't have a shred of evidence, as of right now.

Don't worry, Mrs. Hart.

I'll have men all over this house.

[Music playing] [People cheering]

[People whooping]

[Laughs]

You were wonderful. Ah, you were great!

Wasn't that fun? I loved that.

Mrs. Hart? Are you...

Mr. Mooky MacPherson.

Oh, how do you do?

I know you're gonna make it.

Oh, well, thank you.

Won't that be great? A woman chieftain?

Well, you know, they did tell me that there have been other women chieftains.

You're kidding. Mmm-mmm.

Well, I think that's great.

Well, as they say in the old country,

slanjevah.

Mr. Hart.

Mooky.

Whisky?

Um, no, I think that...

This is the traditional dram of glengarry malt.

To toast the successor.

Excuse me, I'll be right back.

Clansmen, ladies, your attention, please.

It is my great pleasure to welcome you all

to the California Scottish society's 33rd highland ball.

[Jeannie] Besides having a wonderful evening together,

we will be choosing our next...

Are you sure about that, lieutenant?

That was the time on the death certificate,

signed by Dr. Baird.

Then Ramsey lied, because he said he went

to sir Gavin's room after dinner

and found him in a coma.

That's all I need to bring him in for questioning and search his place.

Before the members of the clan choose sir Gavin's successor,

I would like to ask you all to rise

and observe a minute's silence in his memory.

[Jeannie] Thank you. Please be seated.

I now call on pipe major Donald crammond.

The members of the clan maclaish,

in accordance with tradition,

will now choose a new leader

by a show of hands.

There are two claimants.

First, Mrs. Jennifer hart.

And second, Mr. Ramsey t. Maclaish.

[Clapping]

Obviously, there is no reason to have a count.

A salute to the new chieftain.

Slainte mhath, jennifer, maclaish of maclaish.

Slainte mhath, jennifer, maclaish of maclaish.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Will the new chieftain respond to the toast?

Do I have to give a speech?

[Members laughing]

Drink to the clan. [Jennifer] Oh!

To the clan. Slainte mhath.

[Applause]

Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.

You should be more careful whom you drink with, darling.

What?

Especially when the man owns a pharmaceutical firm.

I just talked to the police, Ramsey.

Sir Gavin died six hours earlier than you said.

[Crowd murmuring]

I saw you switch the glasses.

Now you're wondering

why Jennifer isn't reacting.

How you feeling, darling? Fine.

You know why that is, Ramsey?

Because I switched the glasses back.

You drank your own poison.

How long will it take?

Are you feeling much pain?

For god's sake, I'll need a doctor.

You hired macbridger. Please!

Answer me.

Yes. Yes!

The doctors will have to know what you've taken.

Was it the same poison that you gave sir Gavin?

It's a blood coagulant, a new discovery.

For god's sake!

And impossible to trace, no doubt.

It causes a coronary!

Relax, Ramsey.

This is the one with the poison in it.

Lieutenant.

Will you take that down to the police lab, and have it checked?

Well?

[Crowd screams]

Darling. Darling, I think I could use a little scotch.

[Jeannie] Sir Duncan's sword.

It was right where the old parchment said.

Excavated by the courtesy of Abe Solomon.

Going to keep it, Mr. H, or sell it?

Neither one, Max.

The new chieftain,

elected unanimously after Jennifer's resignation,

is going to take it back to Scotland for me

and give it to the national museum.

Oh, Max, I brought you

something wonderful from Edinburgh.

For me? Mmm-hmm.

What is it?

If I'm not mistaken, isn't that haggis?

Huh? That's right.

Oh. The Scottish national dish.

Yeah? What's it made of?

It's sheep's liver,

and heart, and lungs.

All minced with oatmeal and spices

and sewn up in a stomach.

Jeez!

It's delicious.

Really? Delicious?

Sure, you'll love it!

All you have to do is just boil it for about an hour.

What about it, Mr. and Mrs. H? Want some for dinner?

Well... I think we have...

A reservation. Reservation.

We're going to have a pizza at George santo Pietro's.

Oh, yes, we are.

What about you and I splitting this?

Haggis by candlelight?

Nothing sounds more romantic.

[Laughs]

[Chuckles]

[♪♪]