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.

This is gonna be our year,

so keep those heads up high.

Oh. Papa is gonna make you a star.

Who's there?

Who's there?

There, Freeway. What do you think?

You're right.

My perfect rose. A year in the making.

You better get up.

I have a surprise for you.

Oh, yeah? Mm-hm.

I like your surprises.

Especially first thing in the morning.

Mm.

Morning, everybody.

Breakfast in bed, darling.

That's my surprise?

Mm-hm.

Second nicest way to get up in the morning.

Paper, Mr. H.

Thanks, Max.

Oh, Max, what a beautiful rose.

Oh, just a little something

I whipped up in my spare time.

You mean you grew it?

Grew it?

I created it.

A little water, some fertilizer,

a little cross-pollination, and voilà.

The Jennifer Hart rose.

You named this after me?

Why, Max, I'm very flattered.

It's absolutely gorgeous.

Max, you're a man of many talents.

I've never seen this side of you before.

I like to keep a low profile.

Oh.

Hey, Max, you're in a very dangerous hobby.

It says here that Xenophon Papadopoulos

was overcome last night

by his own insecticide.

Was that Papadopoulos, the gangster?

Yeah. I didn't know he was a gardener.

Yeah. Looks like, uh, Zeke the Greek was into flowers.

Yeah.

David Stinton here.

The David Stinton?

Here?

Who's David Stinton?

He's here. At the front gate.

Come on up.

Congratulations, Mrs. H.

You must have made the finals. Come on.

The finals?

Darling, I knew you were good, but, uh...

Jonathan.

Good morning. I'm David Stinton.

Yeah, yeah. Uh, I know. Come on in.

Of the National Rose Academy Award Committee.

Yeah.

I'm here to see Jennifer Hart.

That's wonderful.

Uh, to see if she qualifies as a finalist.

Fantastic.

I'm Jennifer Hart.

This is my husband, Jonathan.

Uh, I'm terribly sorry, but...

I'm afraid there's been some misunderstanding.

That's what I was trying to tell you about upstairs.

He's here to see about the rose

you entered in the contest.

You made the semifinals, Mrs. Hart.

And with that achievement comes this award.

Well... I'm terribly flattered.

Thank you.

Lovely.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Uh... isn't this nice, darling?

Mr. Stinton...

perhaps you'd like to see Jennifer's roses.

Oh, yes. I'll need to. Follow me.

Max, why didn't you tell me?

Well, it was such a long shot,

I figured that if you didn't qualify,

you'd be disappointed.

I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Mrs. H.

Embarrassed? What am I gonna do now?

Well, uh...

you're more at home with these rose people

than I'd be, uh... I'd be out of place.

Are you sure? Sure.

I suppose it's the least I can do

for the Jennifer Hart rose.

Oh, Max.

Delicate scent.

Circumference of the blossoms.

Symmetrical balance.

Marvelous color.

And the strength of your stems is impressive.

So I've been told.

The Jennifer Hart is magnificent.

Oh.

You've discovered something I've known for years.

To what do you attribute

the size of your blossoms?

Excuse me?

It's a secret fertilizer a bookie told me about...

Uh, I mean, that he told Mrs. H about.

Easy, Max. I see.

Well, we're honored to welcome the Jennifer Hart

to the distinguished circle of

National Rose Academy Award finalists.

Well... Uh...

What an honor. That's sensational.

Uh, she's overwhelmed. Easy, Max. Easy.

I hope you and Mr. Hart

will be able to attend the garden party

for the four award finalists

this Saturday at the Westphal estate.

Of course we can.

As long as we can bring Max...

Jennifer's assistant.

Yes. His thumb is almost as green as mine.

Sylvia. Why... Hello.

You look so, uh... pink.

Oh, thank you.

I'm so glad you invited me here today.

Adolpho. Oh, yes.

Well, I do need a drink. Thank you.

Thank you.

Why don't we go and mingle.

Yeah. Oh, I'd love to. I, uh, believe

you know just about everyone here, don't you?

Well, I think so.

Well. It's certainly beautiful grounds.

Isn't it?

Mr. and Mrs. Hart. Oh, Mr. Stinton.

So happy you could join us today.

Oh, it's a lovely gala.

I take it there's money in roses.

Oh, indeed, yes.

In addition to worldwide recognition...

that you've grown the best,

this award can be worth millions to the winner...

in merchandising rights and advertising revenues...

as, uh, each of your fellow finalists is well aware.

If looks could kill. Mm.

The Rose Academy Award winner...

can make more in one year

than my nursery can make in 10.

Your nursery?

Stinton Nurseries.

The same. JENNIFER: Well...

Something tells me that the competition

can be very competitive.

Uh, shall we mingle?

Why not. Will you excuse us?

Certainly.

See you later.

Ah.

Why, uh, you must be Jennifer Hart.

Oh, yes, I am.

Magnificent. What?

I mean, cute. Uh.

That's a cute little rose you're wearing.

Marcello, champagne.

Uh, this is my husband, Jonathan.

And, uh, this is our friend, Max.

Hamilton Westphal III.

Thank you.

This is your estate? Mm-hm.

Very impressive. Oh.

You think this is impressive.

Wait till you see Lady Westphal.

Your wife?

My rose. It's named after Mother.

And something tells me this is going to be our year.

Not if this year's crop

is the same as the last 12 entries.

Or do you really expect this to be lucky 13?

Cute, Sylvia.

Sylvia Williams.

Oh. Jennifer Hart.

Eliot Knox.

Oh.

Well... I guess we're the four finalists.

Mr. Papadopoulos would have made it five,

but he, uh... had an unfortunate accident.

Yes, we read about that in the newspaper.

Insecticide.

Oh. What a shame.

Occupational hazard, you know.

What do you call your rose, Mrs. Hart?

Uh, it's called the Jennifer Hart rose.

Oh. You've named it the Jennifer Hart.

Yes. SYLVIA: Oh.

How modest.

I named the rose.

Oh?

You know something about roses?

A little.

Why don't you and I find the hors d'oeuvres

and discuss some serious cross-pollination?

Excuse us.

Watch out for Sylvia.

Raising roses isn't just a hobby with her,

it's life and death.

Oh.

Get away.

Get that away.

Get it away. Get it...

I'm sorry. Are you all right?

Oh, yeah, I'm... I'm fine.

Uh... Uh, that was just a bee.

Oh, I know. It's just that, uh,

well, I'm very allergic to bee stings.

You are? What a shame.

You know, if we stay here

and don't get back to the buffet quickly...

Goodbye, lamb kebob.

Goodbye, shrimp puffs.

Goodbye, rumaki.

Goodbye, stuffed mushrooms.

Goodbye, cracked crab.

They have cracked crab?

Jonathan.

Alone at last with all my little winners.

Ah, good afternoon, kids.

Wake up. Rise and shine.

That's it. Terrific. Ha.

Oh, that's good. That's real good.

You're making good progress there.

You, you're not even trying.

Perk it up. Perk it up.

All right, boys and girls. This is it.

This is the big day.

I want to see blue ribbons out there.

We're gonna be number one again.

Hello?

Oh, no.

No.

No.

No!

No. No.

It sounds like the party's breaking up early.

Help me! Please, somebody!

Help me!

Please! No!

Somebody help me.

Please, somebody.

Please... help me.

It's locked.

Whoa! Ooh.

He's dead.

I'm sorry, Mrs. H,

that you had to witness that gruesome accident

at the award party.

It's all right, Max. It wasn't your fault.

Yeah, but if I hadn't entered my rose...

Max, check my arithmetic, will you,

but, uh, doesn't that make

two of the five Rose Award finalists

out of the way by accident?

Yeah.

If they were accidents.

Well, a man who is allergic to bees

doesn't keep a hive in the greenhouse.

Yes, but...

the million dollars the award could bring

might be a little too enticing

to one of the finalists.

Yeah, and there are three finalists left.

And you're one of the three, Mrs. H.

I'm sorry.

Hey!

You made Holly Woods today.

Oh? What's Holly Woods?

You know. The columnist who covers

society, gossip and restaurants.

You're under "Dribblings at Party Pourings."

Oh, yeah? Who did we dribble on, Max? Heh.

As you see, she covered the rose finalists' reception yesterday.

But you can't believe everything you see in the newspapers.

Why not?

I was at that reception.

She didn't even mention my name.

Oh, it was probably just an oversight, Max.

Oversight?

I carefully spelled out my name to her three times.

Max, will you get

Lieutenant Grey on the phone for me, please?

Right.

Something interesting?

Yeah, I wanna see if, uh, what's in the society page

has anything to do with what's on the front page.

Take a look at that. - I got him.

Hold it, please.

Thanks.

Lieutenant Grey, Jonathan Hart.

Hey, what's up, Jonathan?

This morning, uh,

in the newspaper on the front page,

it says that your autopsy on Xenophon Papadopoulos

shows that he had a lot of chemicals in his body.

Exactly what kind of chemicals were they?

Jonathan, Papadopoulos is dead and buried.

Why the big interest?

The big interest is, uh, Jennifer.

I don't want to have her dead and buried.

Yeah, she's fine.

Uh... what are the chemicals, lieutenant?

Right.

Right.

Sodium hypochlorite.

That's right, hypochlorite.

And trisodium phosphate.

Sodium phosphate.

Is that it?

Well, thanks very much, lieutenant.

We appreciate it. Bye.

So, what was in his body?

Sounds like a drugstore.

The problem is, I don't know anything about this stuff.

Take a look.

"Insecticides, plant sprays."

That's David Stinton's livelihood.

Maybe he can analyze it for us.

That's a good idea.

If the insecticides kill bugs,

then Papadopoulos' death would be an accident.

And if it kills people?

Then, darling, there's a murderer on the loose.

Stinton's place is on up ahead.

It looks like we're not the only ones headed there.

That car's been following us for the last couple of miles.

He's going on by.

That's Eliot Knox.

What a coincidence.

Isn't it.

Mr. Stinton around?

Oh.

Thanks.

Hello, there.

Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

Well... after the recent tragedies,

it's a pleasure to see a contestant still up and about.

Oh. No, it's our pleasure.

I can only hope that you're here to try and bribe the judge.

Buy this business, and the Rose Academy Award is yours.

Uh. You don't seem to be too terribly upset

by what's been going on.

Frankly, it appears that the finalists

have more to fear than the judges.

So... what can I do for you?

Well, um... actually,

we need your professional expertise.

Fine. Come back to my office.

What's that?!

It's a mulcher.

One we developed here for recycling plant debris

into usable fertilizer.

Certainly has a healthy appetite.

It's just an overgrown garbage disposal, Mrs. Hart.

You leave it alone, it'll leave you alone.

Oh. What beautiful roses.

My personal collection. Oh.

They're my passion, really.

These would make you the perfect judge.

Yes.

Have you ever entered the contest?

No. It's only for those with amateur status.

Owning this nursery disqualifies me.

Rules are rules.

So then none of the other

finalists are professionals?

Eliot is a bank cashier.

Sylvia is just about to open her own flower shop,

so, uh, this will be

the last year she can compete.

David, uh... I've got a list of chemicals here

that a friend of mine is using on his garden.

Can you tell me whether they're dangerous to him

or any of his plants?

Looks like a variation of

some sort of commercial spray.

I can get you an exact breakdown.

It'll take a few minutes.

Well, that's very kind of you.

You're welcome to look around the nursery.

If you see anything you like, I can get it for you wholesale.

Well, that's an offer we can hardly pass up.

Shall we take a look? Yes.

See you later. Yes. Bye.

Oh, look at these.

Aren't they beautiful?

I wonder what they're called.

"Beloperone guttata."

Shrimp plants.

Oh. Eliot.

Your husband's not here to help you now.

It's just you... and me.

Well, Eliot... what are you talking about?

We can stop playing games, Mrs. Hart.

We both know those deaths weren't accidental.

Yes, I suppose we do.

Eliot... listen to me.

Ah... Jonathan!

Jonathan!

What? Ah! Oh!

What's the matter? What's wrong?

Darling.

Eliot Knox.

He thinks we know he's the killer,

and he tried to kill me.

Are you sure it was Eliot Knox?

Darling, if I hadn't have run,

you could have checked his fingerprints on my throat.

Up there.

Hurry.

Jonathan!

Are you all right?

Yeah, darling. I am.

Oh.

I hope Stinton doesn't treat all his customers like this.

That's Knox's car.

Let's give Lieutenant Grey a call.

It's Stinton's ring.

It's David Stinton's, all right.

And that's all there is to make a positive ID on.

Poor man.

And he was just saying it was safer to be a judge

than a finalist.

Jonathan, tell me everything

you know about this Knox guy.

I already told you, lieutenant.

He tried to kill my wife

and, uh, three other people.

Oh, thanks, Bob.

Why don't you check the grounds outside.

See what you can find.

Point of information.

The FBI has had your Eliot Knox under investigation

for embezzling $500,000 from the Golden West Bank.

And frankly, they don't know what the hell he's done

with the money.

Well, he certainly didn't squander it

on fine clothes and fancy cars.

Maybe he made a short-term investment

in a rigged flower show.

But wait a minute. Why...? Uh...

Why would he bribe the judge and then kill him?

Maybe they had a falling-out.

Knox wanted his money back, Stinton wouldn't return it.

So he killed him.

I don't think so, lieutenant.

Uh, I don't think those murders

are tied in here.

The bottom line: I'm putting out an APB on Eliot Knox.

Can we, uh, go on home?

Uh, Jonathan, I'll need you here a little longer

to help with my report.

I'll drive you home.

And Jennifer, I would suggest you head for home

and, uh, lock your door.

You know the, uh, first prize in your Rose Award

could go to anybody who survives the contest.

See you later.

Bye, darling.

Your tea will be ready in just a second, Mrs. H.

Oh, thanks, Max.

And not from any dinky tea bags.

I'm brewing this from fresh Darjeeling

right from the den.

Oh. The best news I've had all day.

So poor Stinton was mulched to death, huh?

Max.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. H.

And you don't think it was an accident, huh?

I don't know what it was.

But it's too awful to imagine.

Here you go, Freeway.

Special water for your daily contribution

to the soil which produced that magnificent,

prize-winning specimen.

I couldn't have done it without you, kid.

Freeway... go to your mom.

She's had a tough day. Go ahead.

Oh-ho-ho-ho.

Mwah. I love you too. Yes.

Oh, the baby.

Oh.

Thanks, Max.

I enter a flower show,

and you wind up playing chicken with a truck.

Oh. It's not your fault.

Main thing is that the police are after that psycho,

and you and Mr. H are safe.

What's the matter?

We're safe.

But Sylvia Williams isn't.

What are you doing?

I'm gonna try to get in touch with her.

See if I can warn her.

Williams, S-Sylvia.

Sylvia.

Hello, Sylvia?

Oh, no.

What's the matter? It's a machine.

Sorry I missed your call, but even on Sunday

I'm on my way to my flower shop on Bailey Street.

When you hear the beep, please leave a message

or try me at the shop.

Hello, Sylvia. This is Jennifer Hart.

If you get this message before I reach you,

don't go home.

Your life may be in danger.

Eliot Knox is the murderer,

and he may be looking for you right now.

So just call Lieutenant Grey at police headquarters.

Eliot Knox is too dead...

to be looking for Sylvia or you, Mrs. Hart.

But I'm not.

Her shop.

She's not answering.

She may be on her way to her shop.

Listen, Max, I'm gonna go down there.

Alone? Yes.

I need you to stay here.

You keep calling this number.

And if you get her before I get there,

tell her to call Lieutenant Grey

at police headquarters.

And then... cross your fingers.

Okay.

Hello?

Hello?

Miss Williams?

Yes? Who is it?

It's me. Jennifer Hart.

I've come to warn you. I know why you've come.

So you can drop the innocent act.

Act?

I came to warn you about Eliot Knox.

He's the killer.

Oh. Well, that's funny.

He said the same thing about you.

But he...

There was never any trouble with the Rose Award

until you became a finalist.

You must want to win very badly.

That's what the two of you thought?

So that's why he was following me.

But Eliot's the one who wanted to win so badly.

He even bribed the judge.

Are you sure of that?

Eliot embezzled $500,000

from the bank where he worked and gave it to Stinton.

That doesn't prove anything.

Why not?

So did I.

Sylvia's telling the truth, Mrs. Hart.

They all bribed me.

This year, the big winner will be...

the judge.

Too late, Max.

So the contest was completely rigged.

Very astute, Mrs. Hart.

Can you guess the rest?

I might be able to.

If you could get $500,000 from a simple bank teller

and... a reasonable sum from a...

respectable businesswoman...

just think of what you could get

from Papadopoulos,

or... Hamilton Westphal III.

You took money from all of us?

Well, I sold my soul

to my pompous relatives for nothing?

Oh. You heel.

Makes me no worse than you, Sylvia.

Only more enterprising.

You can't appreciate what it was like, Mrs. Hart,

handing out all that money year after year

and all that notoriety

to some clumsy amateur

who stumbled across a new shade of pink,

while I barely eked out a living at my nursery.

You're not gonna get away with this.

I'm doing all right so far.

That's it, lieutenant.

That's all I can tell you.

Then Knox peeled out of here.

Well, that just about does it.

The only loose end is catching up with him.

Well, we got an APB out and a stakeout of his apartment.

Yes, but as Jennifer said...

why would a man who embezzled $500,000

want to kill the only man that could help him recover it?

That doesn't make sense.

Look, Jonathan, you're right.

Jennifer is right.

Let me finish the report, I'll run you home.

Stinton's personal bankbook.

Now, that's a funny place for him to keep it.

Lieutenant, a man like Stinton

struggles in a place like this, huh?

Yeah?

Then why would he have over $2 million in his bank account?

Now, let me see that.

It makes no sense.

Sure it makes sense.

If Eliot Knox wasn't the only finalist

who was trying to bribe the judge.

It's ridiculous.

Why would Stinton take money from four contestants

if only one can win?

I mean, he'd never get away with it.

Sure he could.

If the other contestants were disappearing,

he could get away with it.

Yeah, but there's only one problem with your theory.

David Stinton is a dead man. Not Eliot Knox.

Suddenly I'm not so sure.

Jennifer was afraid of Eliot Knox.

Maybe she had no reason to be.

Hello, Max?

Is Jennifer there?

I'm sorry, Mr. H, but she's not here.

She went down to a flower shop on Bailey Street,

uh, to warn the Williams dame about Eliot Knox.

I've been dialing the shop,

but there's no answer and I'm worried.

Yeah, you have reason to be. Thanks, Max.

Come on. Let's get down to Sylvia Williams' shop.

Mrs. Hart, I must say

I was disappointed when you and your husband

didn't pick up on my little hint about bribing the judge.

But no matter how much money

the finalist gave you...

there can only be one winner.

That's right. In the corner, ladies.

Over there.

One winner, and a number of very sore losers.

Unless something happened to them.

In a matter of hours, I'll be on a flight out of the country.

And thanks to you and your husband, Mrs. Hart,

the police probably think I'm dead.

And that horrible machine... The mulcher.

Eliot Knox, of course.

Clever of me to think of the ring, wasn't it?

Unfortunately, I can't allow

either of you the opportunity

to let the police in on our little secret.

Inside, ladies.

Inside.

A mink coat will last forever in cold storage.

Pity you two won't.

Just be patient, ladies.

It takes a few minutes

to lower the thermostat gradually

to the sub-zero climes.

Don't want to break the thermostat.

Some flower show.

Bodies dropping like rose petals.

That's a new one on me.

How much further is Bailey Street?

Usually, it's to call me in when people like to grow things

and then smoke 'em. Ha.

How much further?

Jonathan, Jennifer's in danger.

Now, you know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her.

But we don't know who's after her.

I believed her when she told me that Knox was after her.

Now, maybe he was after her

to accuse her of the other murders.

That's ridiculous.

Now, wait a minute. Put yourself in Knox's shoes.

Every year the Rose Award Show goes off without a hitch.

Suddenly Jennifer's involved, and then what happens?

Murder. Right.

That $2-million bank account of Stinton's,

that leads me to believe that his ring might be a decoy.

If you're right about Stinton,

you're up against a very clever man.

Yeah, and a very dangerous one. Can you step on it?

My foot's on the floor now. Take it easy.

Stinton, don't do this.

Please. Please let us out!

Save your breath, ladies.

Farewell, ladies.

Don't catch your death.

Don't leave us! You can't do that!

Come back!

Save your energy, Mrs. Hart.

It's Sunday. There's no one here.

Oh!

Oh.

Listen...

as long as we're gonna freeze to death together,

you may as well call me Jennifer. Ah.

It's Stinton.

Halt. Police.

Jonathan, wait!

Jonathan.

Help! Over here!

Please! Help us!

Help!

Over here! Help!

Help!

Cover me, will you?

JENNIFER: Help!

Get us out of here.

Get us out of here! Please!

Help! Help us!

Help! Let me out!

Okay, lieutenant? Yeah, fine.

The next time I'm late to dinner...

remind me not to bring you flowers.

Bless you.

Thank you.

Oh, darling, I'm so sorry.

I told you... you'd get it

if you stayed in here last night.

It was worth it.

Oh, dear.

Oh.

Take two of these.

I already took two of those.

Well, do you feel anything?

No. Oh.

They're not set to go off for an hour.

Juice time.

I'm gonna... I gotta... Quick. Grab it.

I got it, Max.

Here. Thank you.

Oh, Max.

Did I give it to you too?

No, you gave it to Freeway.

He gave it to me.

Oh, Max.

Did you grow me another beautiful flower?

My green thumb days are over.

Sylvia's place opened this morning,

and I went down there and bought it.

Aw, thanks. I wish I could smell it.

Oh, Freeway, my poor little invalid.

Here, darling. Here.

The vet says

you should get this twice a day.

What is it?

Chicken soup.