All language subtitles for The Man from U.N.C.L.E. - S03E23 - The Pieces of Fate Affair.en

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- The show started.
- I told you we should have come earlier.

Tonight, Joe White
will have as his guest...

on this provocative
hour of conversation...

an American Nazi.

A man who's claimed to have
spent last weekend in a flying saucer.

And a young lady who's
remarkably successful first novel...

has created a
storm of controversy.

That's what I like about Joe.

He comes to grips with the
burning issues of our times.

And now, ladies and
gentlemen, here he is.

The one, the only, Joe White.

Thank you.

Our first guest tonight,
Miss Jacqueline Midcult...

the schoolteacher who
wrote the dirty book.

I beg your pardon.
My book is not dirty.

Tell me, how did a girl
of your tender years...

presumably delicate
upbringing, write a book like this?

Mr. White!

How did a man of your obvious
breeding, and kindly appearance...

ever get to be so
un... Unbearably rude?

Chalk one up for her.

I'm asking the
questions, Miss Midcult.

Well, your questions
are leading, Mr. White.

- There's nothing here.
- She must have taken them with her.

- But she's scheduled to die in...
- Four minutes.

- What can we do?
- Nothing.

Except watch.

All right, so with this novel of
yours, and I use the term loosely.

Isn't it just a... A thin
deception for naked obscenity?

- It is not obscene, my book is...
- Pieces of Fate, right?

Yes, Pieces of Fate.

It's a spy story about...
About people under stress.

Come on now, what we're
talking about here is just dirt.

Blatant, outright
filth, isn't it?

It is not, it's... It's...

What I try to do is portray
real people, in real situations...

Real people? Oh, come on, now.

Everybody knows
that real secret agents

don't get involved
in this kind of intrigue.

In this kind of sex.

Everybody knows we don't
get mixed up in things like that.

Sure they do.

Oh, wait a moment. This gentleman on
the docket wants to ask you a question.

Yes, sir?

What I wanna say
to this lady is this:

Vanished.

Now that's the
way to get a rating.

Chapter one of Jacqueline
Midcult's novel, gentlemen.

In which a deadly band of
villains known as Killjoy...

prepare to seed the trade
winds with anthrax germs.

And in 1962...

Thrush Central's top maneuver
is scotched by ourselves. To wit?

The destruction of Thrush's floating
laboratory in the Indian Ocean...

from which they planned to
seed the trade winds with anthrax.

Chapter two of
the Pieces of Fate.

In which Killjoy's head
assassin, the Spider...

is killed by the sexy
female spy, May Waltzer...

and thrown into the
heart of Mount Vesuvius.

And in 1965, our top female
operative, April Dancer...

encounters the Thrush
killer, Adam Locust.

And disposed of him on
the slopes of Mount Etna.

Our computer section has compared
this alleged novel, gentlemen...

with our closed case files.

The similarities run to
a staggering 88 percent.

So the conclusion is that
Jacqueline Midcult's novel...

is based on actual instance
involving Thrush and ourselves.

- Has she had access to our files?
- No.

Well, then the only other source
would have to be the missing diaries...

of the late Thrush
historian, Charles Coltrane.

Exactly.

Somehow Miss Midcult
found those diaries.

And presumably, they contain
information about future Thrush plans.

Hence their interest
in the young lady.

And ours, Mr. Kuryakin.

Well, it seems quite simple, all
you have to do is to find Ms. Midcult...

and, uh, get her to tell you
where the missing diaries are.

- Oh, you hadn't heard?
- Heard what?

Miss Midcult was grazed
by the assassin's bullet.

Struck her head when she fell.

She has partial amnesia.

Hm.

The diaries were kept
by a man named Coltrane.

And when Thrush became
aware of his, uh, hobby...

they were afraid that he
might blackmail them...

so they had him killed.

Oh, that's terrible.

Yeah, and they never
did find the diaries.

And for some reason,
uh, somehow, you did.

And you used at least
part of one of the stories...

as the background
for your novel.

- I still don't remember.
- You don't remember writing the book?

No.

Oh, but I read it this morning.
It's pretty good don't you think?

Yes, I would say it's
evoking some interest.

- You know the part I like best?
- Mm-mm.

- Oh, could you open this please?
- Mm-hm.

I like the part where the schoolteacher
goes back to visit her relatives...

and all those
things happen to her.

You know, I have a feeling I
wrote that out of my own experience.

- Really?
- Mm. Thank you.

You don't remember
the name of the town now.

- Wilmo, Illinois.
- No, no, no, that's the fictional town.

Uh, the real town.
Can't you recall that?

Mm...

Mm-mm.

- Sorry.
- Yeah. Ah. Uh-huh.

All right, I tell you...

- we'll try later, okay?
- All right.

- Okay, goodbye.
- Bye-bye.

I had no way of
knowing, Mr. Zark.

The U.N.C.L.E. agents
came out of the audience.

It's true, I didn't
kill her but...

When I was 13 years old, I made
my first genuinely original decision.

I killed a playmate because
he wouldn't trade me...

two bubblegum cards
to complete my collection.

But, sir, you don't know
where the diaries are.

You wanna keep her alive now.

So I didn't really fail, did I?

- Did I? ZARK: It was a
small thing at the time.

A Sopwith triplane.

A Spad XIII.

But it did teach me that there are two
kinds of people in this world, Spinard.

Fifteen years of slavishly
loyal service to Thrush, sir.

Yes, two kinds of people:

Those with bubblegum
cards, and those without.

You notice I deal in allegory
and subtle distinction, Spinard.

But my conclusions are obvious.

There's a mess in
here I'd like cleaned up.

And, uh, call Ms. Merle,
tell her I'm on my way over.

Ha, ha. That's right.

That's right, my review
will be printed Wednesday.

I'm sure, darling, that by Thursday, that
author will be back to selling neckties.

Ha, ha. Bye.

Have Mr. Zark come in.

Hello there.

Good afternoon, they
told me you were coming.

You, um, usually work in bed?

Only in the daytime.

Into whose unsuspecting back are you
plunging your little stiletto this time?

Ha, ha. Some inconsequential
little man, who fancies himself a poet.

He's not worth
mentioning really.

Tell me, are you enjoying your
first day as a Thrush employee?

- It's not much of a change.
- Oh?

Ellipsis Zark, 14 years,
top agent of Thrush.

Holder of three medals
for meritorious service.

Judith Merle,
world-famous critic.

Literateur, book reviewer,
confidante of authors.

We employ different means...

but we're both equally
skilled as assassins.

- You ready for your first assignment?
- Oh, ready and eager.

Excellent, madam.

I want you to arrange a literary
cocktail party for Jacqueline Midcult.

Hm.

The U.N.C.L.E. agents have her now.
How do you know they'll let her come?

Oh, they won't be
able to stop her.

There's no more vain
creature in the world...

than one with its name on
the cover of a cheap book.

Now, once more. Uh, you have
no recollection of the town at all?

Wilmo, Illinois?

No, no, no, I mean
the real-life counterpart.

Oh.

All right, let's try
a different tactic.

You have no recollection
of your parents either?

- No other relatives?
- I'm sorry.

Uh...

- What about...?
- Mr. Solo?

- Napoleon.
- Napoleon.

Uh, how long are you gonna
keep me cooped up in here?

- Well, Miss Midcult, you see...
- Jacqueline.

- Jacqueline.
- Jacqueline, okay.

It's for your own
protection, you see...

Come in.

Good morning.

- A letter for you at the desk.
- Oh, for me?

- Anything?
- I just spoke with headquarters.

Intelligence has pinpointed
Miss Midcult's whereabouts...

ever since she
came out of college.

Hm. Well, that's promising.

Except for a five-month period last
year, when she posted the manuscript.

Well, doesn't the publisher have
any idea where she posted it from?

Well, one of the mail clerks seem
to think it had an Ohio postmark.

Oh, I... SOLO: What is it?

I'm invited to a literary cocktail
party. What am I gonna wear?

I've never been invited to a
literary cocktail party and it's for me.

Uh, Jacqueline, I'm
afraid you can't go to this.

Why not?

- Napoleon, could I have a word with you?
- Okay.

Wait a minute.

I think we should let her go.
It might awaken old memories.

No, it's too dangerous. You can bet
that if she goes, Thrush will be there.

That might help us.

They're bound to be further on in
their pursuit of the diaries than we are.

Jacqueline, you can go to the
cocktail party on one condition.

What's that?

That you have two escorts.

Well, I heard she was a
schoolteacher in Indianapolis.

So I said to him, I said:

"What do you mean
that serious problem...

about the death of a
carrier pigeon wouldn't sell?"

I'm so pleased you came early.

Most novelists like to assert
their individuality by coming late.

I'm Napoleon Solo, I'm Ms.
Midcult's new literary agent.

- And this is my associate, Mr. Kuryakin.
- Judith Merle.

Judith, yes, I've read
your reviews. Very incisive.

A synonym for incisive is nasty,
but thank you, in any case, Mr. Solo.

Jacqueline, don't
you remember me?

Judith? I gave you that rave
review in the Morning Standard?

Uh, Ms. Merle...

Ms. Midcult has partial amnesia due to
the unpleasantness of the Joe White show.

It's not permanent,
but, uh, you understand.

Oh, what a terrible
thing. I'm dreadfully sorry.

Oh, thank you.

Poor darling, why don't
you all go in and mingle?

I'll join you in a moment.

U.N.C.L.E. agents,
probably two of them.

We'll have to get her away from
them. But she mustn't be hurt.

Can I have a drink?

You can have a rap in the
mouth if you don't shape up.

Darling, you simply must
come and meet Rahj Singh...

the psychedelic poet.

Basically, I think
Camus is a fraud.

Now I'll tell you why
I think he's a fraud.

His problem was he
liked to lecture people.

There's one thing you can't
do, you can't lecture people.

I'll tell you why you
can't lecture people...

because when you do, you
assert your will on theirs...

I've got a gun in your back.

Has he got a gun in my back?

- He has a gun in your back.
- Out.

Ow!

Get her to the car.
Use the service elevator.

Take her to Zark.

Ms. Merle said to get rid of
you. I'll show her I ain't an idiot.

Gee, you'll like it
down there. Dark.

Maybe today, or
maybe tomorrow...

comes down about 10
tons of nice, black coal.

Bye-bye.

Oh, this ludicrous pretext of amnesia
simply won't work, Ms. Midcult.

We here at Thrush find it offensive
when our intelligence is insulted.

But it's true.

And I suppose Solo and Kuryakin
really were your literary agents?

Huh?

Has Obelisk reported in yet?

The U.N.C.L.E. men had been
put out of the way permanently.

So you see, Ms. Midcult...

obfuscation and
dissembling will avail you little.

All right, get me the hypo.

Well, we're not dead yet.

I'm overcome with awe at
your grasp of the situation.

We could be dead though, very
soon, if they drop that load of coal.

How did you get your gag off?

It's extraordinary how complicated
even the most simple situations become.

I think it would be
advisable to get out of here...

before they drop
that load of coal on us.

What's the rush? It's the first...
First solitude I've had in weeks.

Well, the rush is that...

I think if 10 tons of coal comes down
on us, it's gonna muss up my hair a little.

It's unlikely.

All right, I'll go along with your
little game. Why is it unlikely?

Well, if you listen carefully, you'll
hear the sounds of an oil furnace.

This place doesn't
use coal anymore.

Well, if it is amnesia, we
have to break the block.

We have to probe deeply
into her unconscious.

We have to plumb her
libido, draw out her id.

Jacqueline.

Yes?

Now you repeat after me.

I will tell the nice
Mr. Ellipsis Zark everything.

Now, repeat after me.

I will tell the nice Mr...

- Ellipsis. JACQUELINE:
Ellipsis Zark everything.

Good. JACQUELINE: Good.

Now only speak
when you're spoken to.

Tell me, Jacqueline.

Did you write a novel
called Pieces of Fate?

- No.
- No?

Oh, but you wanna
know something?

I wrote... I wrote a story
about a day at the zoo.

And I colored it
with my crayons.

In pink and blue.

Now, um, tell me your name.

Jacqueline Susie-Q
Midcult, and I'm 7 years old.

- Good heavens, we've gone too far.
- She thinks she's a child.

She is a child.
Personality regression.

I'm 7 years old.
And you know what?

Next summer, I get to go
visit with my Uncle Charlie.

And my Auntie Jessica
in a big old house...

in Mainsville, Ohio.

Ohio. She has relatives
in Mainsville, Ohio.

And the manuscript
came from Ohio.

Then the diaries might be there.

And when the drugs wear
off, she'll take us right to them.

Now, hopefully she'll remember.

Then we'll tear the town apart.

This little old piggy went, "wee,
wee, wee" all the way home.

It was very clever of
you to bug her earring.

It may save our jobs.

Mr. Waverly isn't going to be happy
about our losing her in the first place.

- Well, I won't tell if you don't tell.
- Yeah.

Well, let's just
save her, comedian.

Humor is the gadfly on
the corpse of tragedy.

- Pushkin?
- My grandmother.

Beeps are getting closer.

They're bringing her this way.

Here they come.

- Are you all right?
- Where's Mommy?

I want my mommy.
Mama, I want Mama.

- I don't wanna take a pill.
- Come on now, take it.

- No, no.
- Come on, take it.

You take it, and then
you can have this.

Promise? SOLO: Scout's honor.

Do you think it'll work, sir?

Our medical people
assure me it will.

We can't say when
her memory will return.

But she won't be a
7-year-old much longer.

Oh, thank you.

- Here are your tickets for Ohio.
- No!

And gentlemen, please
don't lose her this time.

We'll do our best, sir.

But I don't want to go to
Ohio. People keep tying me up.

Well, nobody's gonna
tie you up, sweetheart.

We're gonna see your Uncle
Charlie and your Aunt Jessie.

- In Mainsville?
- In Mainsville.

Oh! I wanna go now. Come
on, come on, I wanna go now.

If she doesn't come back from being a
7-year-old, we'll never find the diaries.

Look on the bright side.

With a mentality like that, she
could really write a bestseller.

Where am I?

Don't you remember? You're on
a train nearing Mainsville, Ohio.

Mainsville, Ohio?

Oh, I remember you. You're
the two U.N.C.L.E. agents.

You're Napoleon and
you're Mr. Kuryakin.

Do you remember Mainsville?

Mm. Dimly.

That's where I wrote the book.

Right. With the aid
of certain diaries.

Do you remember
where those diaries are?

Mm.

Come on, now. Try, think hard.

It's no use.

Do you remember your
Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jessie?

My Uncle Charlie
and Aunt Jessie?

- That's right.
- No.

Well, she's not 7
years old anymore.

- We're right back where we started.
- Well, a little more than that.

She does remember Mainsville.

I have a hunch it'll
come back fast now.

We would like to leave this
somewhere till we get settled.

Oh, you bet you.

Nice little town you got here.
- Mm-hm.

Tell you, we're looking for a fellow
named Charlie and his wife Jessie.

- Does that ring any bells with you?
- Nope.

- But I'm new around here.
- Oh.

Just moved in from Cincinnati.
- Oh, yeah.

There's no Midcult listed.

Must be an uncle
on your mother's side.

- The bookstore.
- I beg your pardon?

I remember the bookstore.

Don't ask me why,
but the name's Buck's.

- Buck's.
- Buck's?

Oh, Buck's. Yeah, that's right across
the town square. I know that much.

All right, good, good.
Let's try it, thank you.

Oh, your stubs.
Here are your stubs.

Thank you.

Where did you come from?

They're on their way to the
bookstore. You know what to do?

It's really creepy.

I remember Mainsville, or some of
it. And I know I wrote the book here.

But it's like I'm seeing
it all through a fog.

I just can't
remember everything.

Well, after that crack on the
head and what Zark did to you...

it's lucky you
have a mind at all.

Um, if you'll excuse me, I'm
going to prowl around a bit.

Where are you going?

If Thrush knows about
this place, they're here.

I'll see if I can divert some
of the attention from you.

Oh, you plenty smart guy.

He's nice.

- Oh, he's all right.
- Ha, ha.

Oh, Miss Midcult. Oh, ho, ho.

Welcome to my shop,
welcome to Mainsville.

Now you have a very
nice place here, Mr. Buck.

- Oh, thank you, Mr...?
- Solo. I'm Miss Midcult's literary agent.

Oh, Mr. Solo, you are a
fortunate man indeed...

to work with this
delightful young lady...

whose book has become the
scintillance of tomorrow's wonder.

The what? Oh, the scin...

Oh, of course, yes.

Oh, that's very kind
of you, Mr. Buck.

Do you know that we have
sold 16 copies here in Mainsville?

- Right here in this store.
- Mm. Remarkable.

Yes, it is, Mr. Solo. Veritably.

Would you like some jasmine tea?

Uh, I'd love some,
Mr. Buck. I'd just love some.

Please, do call me Oedipus.

- Please sit down.
- Oedipus. Ha.

- Bring anything back?
- I remember the store.

I think I spent a lot of
time writing the book here.

- And Buck?
- Oh, I think he's cute.

That's lovely, but you
think we can trust him?

- We're going to need an ally.
- Oh, I think so, he's a little bird.

Mr., uh... Mr. Buck...

can we trust you with
some privileged information?

- Trust?
- Mm-hm.

I am the silence
that infests the grave.

I am the hush to be found at
the bottom of the Cayman Trench.

I am the sealed
lippedness of the eternal...

Right. Got it.

Now here's the problem.

There are some diaries that
Jacqueline used for notes...

when she was
working on her book.

There were 10 of them
in brown leather bindings.

Hey, I remembered.

Now, these diaries
are vastly important.

You see, there's a plagiarism
suit pending in New York.

And we need to use
them as evidence.

Yes, even the dullest eye could
perceive to ascertain their necessity.

Why don't you get them?

Uh... I misplaced them.

Well, I don't know
where they are.

We know that, Mr. Buck. We were
hoping that you could help us find them.

Well, did you ask Miss Midcult's
uncle and aunt at the house?

Well, as you may have guessed...

uh, Ms. Midcult has suffered
a partial loss of memory.

I don't even remember
my own relative's address.

Charlie and Jessie?

Oh, my poor child.

Well, they live at
312 Pine Street.

312 Pine. Thank you.

- But you haven't touched your tea.
- Perhaps some other time, Mr. Buck.

- Thank you very much.
- Oh, pleased, to be sure.

Come back, I'm so looking
forward to seeing all of you again.

Looking for something?

If you'll raise your
hands, Mr. Kuryakin.

Aah!

I'd have killed him if
you hadn't interfered.

They would have heard the shot.

Excuse me, Ms. Merle, but I
think it's better to keep him alive.

If his partner should learn
too much, we have a hostage.

You may be right.

I'll hide him away. My
car's right around the corner.

But I haven't seen you before.

I just came in this morning.
I'm with reserve unit X-14.

Very good. Remind me to put in
a word with your unit commander.

Thank you.

- Wuthering Heights.
- Hey, I remember.

That's where I wrote my book.

And I remember Uncle
Charlie and Aunt Jessie.

Ah, go on.

Oh, it's really
coming back fast now.

Last summer, I was pretty,
uh... Pretty disillusioned.

It was right after a whole
flock of rejection slips.

And I came back here to rest up
and sort of take stock, you know?

It was the first time I'd come back
here to visit my aunt and uncle...

since I've been 7 years old.

And I wasn't gonna write a word.

And then I found those diaries.

You found them here?

Yeah, they were in a big trunk.

Uncle Charlie said he
bought them from the railroad.

At one of those unclaimed
baggage, luggage sales or something.

Jackie.

Uncle Charlie. - Hey.

- Jackie.
- Oh, Uncle Charlie.

It's so good to be here.
And it's so good to see you.

You still smell like that
old nasty pipe tobacco.

You just passing by, or are
you gonna stay for a spell?

Oh, we'd like to stay
around for a spell, if it's okay?

Okay, I'll fix up a
room for you right now.

Oh, where's Aunt Jessie?

Oh, uh, she's fine,
she's not here now.

She... She had to go
to a funeral in Akron.

Oh.

Oh, uh, Uncle Charlie
this is Napoleon Solo.

A very, very, dear
friend of mine.

Uh, he's with my, uh, publisher.

And he's gonna stay with me
during the promotional campaign.

- Glad to have you around, Mr. Solo.
- Hi.

It's nice to have some
news from the big city.

You've got a friendly town
here, and a lovely home.

It ain't much but we call
it our, uh, blue heaven.

Heaven, Mr. Solo.

Or possibly hell.

Open Channel D.
Scramble, please.

Channel D, open and
scrambled. Go ahead, Napoleon.

Have you heard from Illya?

Not since your last regular
check-in. Has something happened?

No, uh, maybe
not. I'm not sure yet.

Put me through to Mr. Waverly.

I can't, he isn't here.

He hasn't been for the last two
days. Some special assignment.

- Is it important?
- No, forget it, Channel D out.

Mr. Solo, soup's on.
- Thank you.

Be right down.

Nice young fellow, Jackie.

- Got any cuddling ideas about him?
- Oh, Uncle Charlie.

Well, now, sweetheart, you're more
than old enough to have a husband.

Yes, sir, I gotta have a
talk with that Mr. Solo...

about his intentions
with you, young missy.

- Good evening.
- Good evening, Mr. Solo.

I ain't as good a cook as my
better half but I hope it ain't too bad.

Oh, I'm sure it would
be a gourmet's delight.

Uh, tell me, Mr. Solo.
You're in the publishing world.

Have we really, honest-to-goodness got us
a best-selling authoress on our hands here?

Well, Jacqueline's book Pieces of Fate
has gone into six editions in three months.

Now, that's 250,000
copies in hardcover.

I would say that we
have a runaway winner.

And I'm sure the sequel
will be even better.

Sequel?

Hasn't Jacqueline
told...? Of course not.

How could she? We've been
so busy getting reacquainted.

Napoleon's just being
kind, Uncle Charlie.

You're gonna be
starting it soon, Jackie?

- Mm. As soon as I get some notes together.
- Notes?

I've got some notebooks
filled with ideas...

Jackie, let's not talk about
it right now. Shall we...?

Why don't you just sit, relax, and get
a little taste of hospitality and home?

Try to escape, young man.

It's not supposed
to be this easy.

This is where I wrote the book.

Is this where you
kept the diaries?

Yes, at first, but then I
put them somewhere.

Do you, uh, remember where?

Oh, I'm sorry, Napoleon.

I'm really sorry.

But everything's coming back so
quickly now, I'm sure I'll remember.

- Solo here.
- Uh, good evening, Napoleon.

Did anything of consequence
happen while I was gone?

Where have you been?

Well, it's a long story
and an embarrassing one.

Among the other
things, I was, uh...

overpowered by an
old man with a cane.

- An old man?
- Yeah, with a cane.

And when things like that happen I
wonder if I'm not in the wrong business.

Are you all right now?

Yes, and eager to atone
for my misadventures.

Good, I'm at Uncle Charlie's
place. That's 312 Pine.

I suggest that you
get right over here...

and sneak in and help
us try to find the diaries.

All right.

Now there's an intelligent
way of going about this.

There are only so many
rooms in this house.

That means that...

- Did you forget something?
- I beg your pardon.

Oh, Wanda. I'm
sorry. Uh, what's new?

Well, we ran that
make on Uncle Charlie.

- What make?
- The one you asked for.

- I didn't ask for any make.
- Well, somebody did.

Anyway, here it is.

Uh, full name, Charles Coltrane.

He was a member
of Thrush for 28 years.

Supposedly killed
three years ago.

His dossier was
in the closed file.

You're certain the
make is absolute?

We ran it through two
computers. No doubt at all.

Thank you.

Jackie?

The diaries, they
were your uncle's.

He's with Thrush.

Hi, Mr. Solo. Do you know
anything about automobile engines?

Yeah, a little. Uh...

You know anything about Thrush?

Uh...

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Forget it, Charlie. I
know all about you.

I just thought you might want to
fill me in on some of the details.

All right.

When I escaped from
Thrush, I came back here.

I lived here all along, you know.
They never knew anything about it.

- About your double life?
- That's right.

When did they find out?

The other day, when
they sent their people in.

They would have
killed me then, but I...

I guess they wanted to keep
everything normal to Jacqueline.

You do put on a pretty
good show for your niece.

Uncle Charlie,
small town bumpkin.

So warm, lovable. Gemütlichkeit.

I... I had to act like that.

They're watching me.
They've got the house bugged.

- One wrong move on my part...
- Goodbye, Charlie.

It's not me I'm worried
about, Mr. Solo.

It's not me at all.

Well, who are you?

Jessie Coltrane.
Who are you, boy?

My name is Illya Kuryakin.
I'm a friend of Jacqueline.

Well, it's about time
you legged it in here, boy.

I've been trussed up in
this basement for days.

Who put you down here?

That man, that woman.

What man?

The man with the hand.

We better get
upstairs, as quick...

Shh.

Don't make a noise.

- Come in.
- Napoleon, it's me.

Napoleon, I remember everything.
I remember where I left the diaries.

Shh, shh, shh.

They're in the attic,
at least they were.

All right, let's go.

Where were you
when I needed you?

Come on, we
have to get upstairs.

Well, to coin a phrase,
Mr. Zark, "We meet again."

It's been too long, Mr. Solo.

- Not since that affair in Tannu-Tuva, huh?
- Right.

Stop it, Mr. Solo.

Desist this very instant.

You've, uh... You've
met Mr. Buck, I assume.

Well, Mr. Solo, I'm
afraid you're checked.

He's unchecked now, Mr. Zark.

- Aunt Jessie.
- Oh, Jacqueline, my child.

Thank heaven you're all right.

It's about time you got
here, what took you so long?

One of these days, I'm going
to leave you on your own.

Just to see how you manage.

Well, into each life,
a little rain must fall.

Yes, Mr. Solo.

But are you
prepared for a deluge?

I'm sorry, Miss Merle.

I've always enjoyed
your book reviews.

We're very grateful, sir. But,
uh, what are you doing here?

I gave myself a special
assignment, Mr. Solo.

I couldn't run the risk of another mistake,
like losing Miss Midcult the first time.

But how did you get
into our infiltration group?

I, uh, infiltrated.

Where are the diaries?

Diaries?

Yes, Aunt Jessie, the
diaries Uncle Charlie wrote.

- There were 10 of them.
- That filth?

I found them up here. Weren't
fit to be in a decent home.

Where are they?

I burned them.

Aunt Jessie says she's
forgiven him for everything.

Oh, yes, thank you.

And they really
like living in Florida.

Well, uh, in view of Thrush's
continuing interest in Charlie...

I trust they're living
under assumed names.

Oh, yes. They won't even
allow me to tell you what they are.

I hate to interrupt this happy scene,
but I wish to register a complaint.

Was it necessary for you to hit
me quite so hard with your cane?

Oh, yes. I'm sorry
about that, Mr. Kuryakin.

But, uh, well, I did have to
gain their confidence, didn't I?

Of course, but I
still have the lump.

And on balance, I think
things have turned out very well.

With our new method
of atomic adhesion...

we can restore the
ashes of the diaries.

May take us a couple of
months in all but we can do it.

Word has already gotten
out on that, sir, and Thrush...

has cancelled all operations
referred to in the book.

Oh, speaking of
books, Miss Midcult.

I hope your experiences of the last few
days haven't dampened your literary zeal.

Oh, no, I've already
started a new book.

It's gonna be
another bestseller.

- Is it?
- Uh-huh.

It's about a schoolteacher
who finds a set of diaries.

And she gets mixed up with
a couple of secret agents.

And she gets amnesia.

And they take her to...