All language subtitles for Kolchak.The.Night.Stalker.S01E01.720p.BluRay.x264-GalaxyTV_track3_[eng]

If by chance you happened
to be in the Windy City

between May 28
and June 2 of this year,

you would have had very
good reason to be terrified.

During this period, Chicago
was being stalked

by a horror so frightening,
so fascinating,

that it ranks with the
great mysteries of all times.

It's been the fictional subject of novels,
plays, films, even an opera.

Now, here are the true facts.

May 21. 3:00 a.m.

Across the state line at Werner's
Boom-Boom Room in Milwaukee, Wisconsin,

Michele Shifman, a dancer...
whatever... had just done her last number.

| mean, really her last number.

Hey! Grab that guy!

May 24. 11:30 p.m.

Three days later.
Milwaukee again.

22, 5 feet 9, weight 120.

Breaking horses
and collecting bone china.

Debbie wanted to be successful.
She should have settled for being alive.

May 25. 10:00 a.m.
Tony Vincenzo and |

were debating my coverage of the
robbery at First County Bank and Trust

where thieves had escaped
with over $100,000.

For reasons | have never
been able to understand,

Vincenzo has always confused
my reporter's clever ingenuity

with what he calls
high-handed lunacy.

| did not state
that | was a police officer.

No, but you acted like
the police commissioner.

- Well-Well...
- You commandeered a private automobile.

- You had six people under arrest.
- They were interfering.

Because of them,
| missed one of the biggest stories of the year,

so I-l placed them
under citizen's arrest.

- That's my right.
- | have a few rights too.

And | plan on
exercising one right now.

Well, let me...

- Now, I...
- Last night...

Last night,
in one brief moment of total madness,

you managed to tear
asunder the many ties

that this news service has
built up over a period of years

with the police department
and Captain Warren,

who hates you by the way...
A lot.

Okay. What's the bottom line?

The bottom line. Carl,

Miss Emily went on vacation
this morning.

Good morning, Miss Emily.

Go play with your pimples.

- How's it goin'?
- Have you read these?

- Have you ever read any of these letters?
- Sure, | have.

"Dear Emily. When a person
has been doing"

something rather personal
with another person,

"and she finds out the same thing
has been going on with other persons,

"many of whom are
personal friends or related,

what is a person to do?"

Sure, you get a few screwballs.

But, by and large,
they're mostly sincere people.

Mmm.

They're just bewildered,
confused. That's all.

Now, Carl, all they want are some simple,
honest answers...

Homespun, grassroots.

Homespun, grassroots,
huh? You mean, don't go for a Pulitzer.

- Right.
- Right.

Now, answer every letter
with a return envelope.

Look, this is only for a week,
Carl, until Emily gets back.

Sure.

The three dumbest things
in the world

are you, your column
and your paper.

"lam overwhelmed by
the accumulated dumbness.

P.S. Do you know of a cure
for acne? A friend of mine has it."

Hang in there.

Miss Emily.

- Let it all hang out, "Uptight."
- Updyke!

- Certainly.
- Oh!

"Dear Emily,
Since | last wrote you,

"the man across from me at the
south end of Wilton Park has come back.

"He is up to his old tricks,
prowling around nights in that foolish costume,

"looking right through me
with his x-ray eyes.

Can he kill me with his eyes,
or will they only make me sterile?"

- Kolchak! Where do you think you're going?
- I'm goin’ out!

| can't stand it. I'm goin’ to
see what's around the Loop.

What's happening around here is the
"Miss Emily" column, not anything on the Loop.

Kolchak! Come back here!

May 26. Laramie Street.
3:55 a.m. Chicago.

Miss Laura Maresco, age 24, a masseuse.

She was fond of stuffed animals
and had been given one as a gift

by an exceptionally
satisfied customer.

She was anxious to get home
and find a place for it in her bedroom.

Code 5. All cars respond.

Homicide suspect on building at
intersection of Laramie and Pulaski.

Detain all matching description.

Code 5. Code 5.

All cars respond.

Hey! Where do you think you're
goin'? You can't drive over the sidewalk!

Press! |.N.S.!

Get more light on that rooftop!

Where's Bolton? We need
a marksman with a scope!

Unit 3! Unit 3!
Cover the back alley!

- Grab him! Grab him!
- Get his legs!

Get a rope! Get a rope!
Watch that arm!

- Get him by the legs!
- Give it to me!

May 28. 1:00 a.m.

They had the Ripper trapped,
treed and cornered, but he got away.

And later,
no one could agree on what they saw.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah?

Well? Nothin’.

Nothin’.
It's just-just sheer mud.

What'd | do wrong?

That pocket strobe light you
got won't reach over 20 feet,

so you just got
a lot of headlights.

Some nice shots
of the back of his head.

Yeah, well,
send me up the prints when they're dry, will you?

- You want these?
- Would | ask?

Anything you say.

Carl?

| think you've missed
the tone of "Dear Emily."

These answers are a little terse,
almost cynical.

Like this one, for instance. "Dear Exhausted,
You have an x-rated boyfriend.

Tell him to clean up his act or
get booked in another house."

Come on. That's just not Emily.

What do you think you're doing?

"Late last night,
the brutal murder of Laura Maresco, 24"...

That's not your assignment.
That's somebody else's assignment.

You are Miss Emily.
Miss Emily, remember?

Who'd you assign it to? Updyke.

- You didn't! You wouldn't!
- Yes, | did, and it's his assignment.

You could learn an awful lot
from Ron Updyke.

- He was financial editor for five years.
- Financial adviser, huh?

Yeah. Mortgages, interest
rates, soybean futures.

What has that got to do
with the news?

It was horrible. Horrible.

Have you got any background
on the murdered girl, Ron?

She's dead. Throat cut.

Her head was nearly severed
from her body.

Did you get that
from the coroner's report?

| got it from a reporter
from the Herald.

He actually saw the body.

He saw the body.

Well, what did you do, Ron?

Well, | went to where
she was... murdered.

- It was...
- Horrible?

Exactly. May | go home?

- Go home, Ron.
- Thank you.

Yeah.

Horrible.

And that's about all we have in
the way of positive information

on the homicide at this time.

In the meantime,
a description of the suspect is being circulated,

and we expect to have
more information in 48 hours.

- Uh. Question. Question.
- Good day, gentlemen.

- Question. Question.
- Take your hat off.

Can you explain
how the suspect jumped

from the top of a four-story
building and survived?

There are a number of
possible explanations.

The fall might have been
broken by something.

He might have dropped from a lower floor,
fire escape.

Might have,
but didn't. | know. | was there. | saw it.

| also saw him make scrap
metal out of one of your patrol cars.

Don't you worry
about our patrol cars.

As | think Mr. Vincenzo explained to you,
you're not the police commissioner.

I've given you all | have on the
subject. Thank you, gentlemen.

I'm no gentleman. What about
the letter? When can | publish it?

When it comes out of analysis,
you'll be the first to know.

- What letter?
- A letter from the Ripper.

If it's from the Ripper,
how come you've got it?

Because it's evidence,
Mr. Kolchak. Evidence.

Well, if it's from the Ripper,
it's also news, Mr. Warren. News.

Captain Warren.
Take your hat off.

What-What makes it
so special, Captain?

| mean, every newspaper in town's been
getting Ripper letters from these kooks.

This may shock you, Mr. Kolchak,

but we withheld from
the press certain things

the Ripper did to
Miss Laura Maresco's body.

Now, the letter
that Miss Plumm received

describes in detail
what those things were.

- Do you grasp the implication?
- Well...

Now, Miss Plumm's newspaper
has agreed to withhold the letter

in the interest
of responsible journalism.

May | ask the same
consideration from you all?

Jane Plumm is fat.

She talks a lot about water retention,
big bones,

but | have to believe the
six or eight meals a day

with snacks in-between to keep
up her strength has a lot to do with it.

And Plumm is a reporter however.

We have mutual respect,
mutual trust.

| don't trust you, Kolchak.

You'd double-cross your own
fairy godmother for a story.

Why, Jane, how can you
say a thing like that?

Now, you know me
better than that.

Tell me. Tell me,
what was in the letter?

What have you got to trade?

How about a sack
of "Dear Emily" letters

sodden with the tears
of humanity?

Great reference material.
Four novels in it at the very least.

I'll have a tongue
sandwich... triple-Decker...

A side of fries, macaroni salad,

a root beer float... two scoops...

And a piece of pecan pie.

Chili.

My editor wants me to come up with
a series of features on the murders,

but | can't come up
with an angle.

You know the sort of junk we print... lurid,
sensational.

- Got any ideas?
- Yeah. Lots of 'em.

- Well?
- Well?

Okay.

Besides what Warren said,
the letter also had a P.S... a rhyme.

"And now a pretty girl will die
so Jack can have his kidney pie."

- | don't get it.
- The murderer cut out her kidneys.

Just like the original Ripper.

There have been a lot of these
mutilation murders all over the world.

- It's a contagious psychosis.
- Oh, Jane.

That's my theory,
and I've checked it out with a few psychiatrists.

There's a definite pattern
to the killings.

- They seem to come in bunches.
- Hookers?

Mostly. Some semipros.

There was an Italian who
specialized in flower girls.

- Mm-hmm.
- Dismembered five of them.

Okay. | got a great headline
for you.

"Cannibalism!"

Cannibalism.

- Oh! | love it.
- Mm-hmm.

Thanks, Kolchak.

May 29. 11:00 p.m. The Loop.

Chicago's answer to Times Square. Miles of neon,
crowds, excitement,

And the usual
big-city tourist traps.

And that night,
a very unusual tourist.

You can have the hot oil rub with
or without the vibrator and sauna.

There's also the regular
massage with talcum.

If you'll wait in the room
on the right,

I'll be right with you.

Cheryl? Watch the desk.
| got a customer.

He's weird. He's weird.

Press.

Ron Updyke.
Independent News Service.

How tall was he?
Press. Pardon me.

Press.

Can you describe
what the man was wearing?

Press.

Hmm.

Oh! Excuse me.

Oh. Oh.

Where's the men's room?

Where do you think you're goin'?

Carl Kolchak, I.N.S. Remember?

- You got a man there already.
- No, no. That's a mistake.

- No. He handles want ads.
- | got orders.

Look. Captain Warren
and | may have had out little...

Move along. Move along.

It-It says...

All right, all right, all right!

Hey, wh-what happened?

| was doin' about 30.A
man runs out into the street.

- | hit him.
- In acape yet.

Where is he?

- Tell him.
- He walked away.

- Walked away?
- You're right. Nobody'd believe it.

Yeah, you're right.
Nobody would believe it.

Carl. Your friend Jane...
Jane Plumm.

- Yeah?
- That's a feature lead?

"A Psychopathic Cannibal?"

Hey, that's very good. She
was looking for a good angle.

It's a shame that Updyke... or Uptight...
couldn't come up with as good a story.

She offered to meet the Ripper and
guarantee his safety, on his terms.

No kidding?

Well, if | were him,
I'd meet her anyplace but a restaurant.

What are you reading?
What are you reading there?

Nothing. It's just...
It's a... It's a, uh...

"Ripper Murderers
Throughout the Ages."

"While most Ripper murderers

“were insanely courageous
at their execution,

New York Ripper Eugene Lang
went into a frenzy and escaped."

How many times do | have to tell you,
Kolchak? This is not your story.

Why do you behave
like a four-year-old?

- | know it's not my story.
- Then what are you doing with this rot?

- Helping Updyke.
- He doesn't need any help. He's not helpless.

No. I-I'm doing research
for him.

Let him do his own research.

- He can't. He's a "bibliophiliac."
- Huh?

He's, uh, persona non grata
down at the library.

- He's what?
- Yeah. Yeah.

You see, he takes books out.

He's got half the books in the library out,
and they're all overdue.

As a matter of fact,
they've got a warrant out for his arrest.

Well, that's not like Ron.

Oh, | know, | know. | was terribly
disturbed about it when | heard.

| don't know. It must be some
kind of a deep-seated illness,

a compulsion of sorts, | guess.

Bibliophiliac.

- Biblio...
- Yeah.

Well, whatever Updyke is suffering from,
what about the "Miss Emily" letters?

- They're all taken care of.
- Are they?

Oh, sure. Yeah. That's the only
reason that | had time to help Ron.

You see, Tony,
what I've been trying to do here in the office

is establish a kind of an atmosphere
of friendly relationships... a rapport.

Lord knows, life is hard enough

without all of that
quibbling and nasty arguing.

Well, | Know mine certainly is.

- Mmm.
- Well, I'm glad to hear it.

- Anything you can do to further that end...
- I'm glad you understand.

- Where are you going?
- Uh, furthering that end.

I'm going down to the, uh,
periodicals room of the main library

to look up a few articles
for, uh, Ron.

I'll, uh... I'll see you around.

You think you get screwball
letters in the Dear Emilys?

| am personally interviewing
guys who claim to be the Ripper.

I'm up to number 19.

You are being very foolish,
Jane. You are being dumb, Plumm.

It's worth it.
| get a feature byline,

and | get to meet
some interesting guys.

- Yeah?
- Weird, but interesting.

That rag of yours... how can
they let you take chances like this?

You're liable
to get yourself killed.

Ah, you sweetheart.

- You're worried about me.
- Yeah, I'm worried about you.

Don't be.

What are you gonna do,
kill him with jelly beans?

This would stop a
love-crazed moose in his tracks,

so it should be enough
to stop Jack.

Put that thing away, will you?

There's no chance. All these
guys operate exactly the same way...

Almost as if they were
the same man.

That'd make him older than your suit,
and that is saying a lot.

- I'm serious.
- That'd make him over 130 years old.

- Right.
- Wrong. It's a simple contagious psychosis.

- Have | told you about my theory?
- Yeah. Yeah, Jane.

Yeah, you've told me all about
your theory. Now you listen to mine.

Now, they-they caught
a Ripper in Germany...

One of many...
And they tried to hang him.

They had a little trouble
with the rope.

However... Here, let me
show you some pictures.

Here. | got... Here.

- See? See? Right there.
- What? Where?

On his throat. Right there. Can't
you see it? Look. Right there.

- It's a rope burn.
- Could be a rope burn.

- Yeah.
- Could also be a carbuncle.

Okay.

Each one of these Rippers has
killed five women. Correct? Hmm?

Even you yourself said

that your Italian "flower
girl" Ripper killed five, hmm?

- So?
- So our Chicago Ripper has got two victims left.

If his pattern follows,
he's gonna get both of them tonight.

Not before | get my story. I'm
interviewing three potential Rippers tonight.

And besides,
he's not gonna kill anybody. He promised.

Oh, he promised. Oh,
that's great. That's... That's just great.

No, it's true.
He sent me another poem...

Same thing that was written
on the massage parlor mirror.

"Jack is resting, be reborn,
to finish up on Wednesday morn."

Jane, listen to me.
Don't get involved in this.

Now, he wrote
the same thing in London,

and then he struck the night
before in exactly the same place.

Yeah, Kolchak, but that was
the real Jack the Ripper.

Well, uh... Uh...

Excuse me. I, uh...
I'll take, uh...

Uh, yeah, number seven.

- Do you have that?
- Yeah, it's my lucky number.

This way, please.

- Are you a tennis player?
- Uh, what? No. No, why?

Because your shoes are so funny.

- | run a lot.
- Ah, | see.

Uh... Miss, uh...

- Wh-Wh-What's your name? Susan? Susan.
- Susan.

Listen, Susan, | didn't... | didn't
really come here for a massage.

- You didn't?
- No.

See, | think something is
gonna happen here tonight.

It could happen
right here in this room.

And you wanna be here
with your camera recorder.

That's right. Now,
if there's some place that | could wait.

Hide.
| wouldn't disturb anybody.

- Where you could watch.
- That's right.

Oh, no, no. Don't get...
Don't get the wrong idea.

Please. My name is Carl Kolchak.

- Hello, Carl.
- Hi, Susan.

I'm Officer Cortazzo,
and you're under arrest.

- Phil!
- What?

Shame on you, Kolchak.

Now, wait.

Lewd proposal. He wanted
to watch me with someone.

Wait a minute. Phil,
come on. You know me.

| always thought
you were straight, Kolchak.

Well, | am str... | am straight.

- Huh. These are his too, Phil.
- Look...

- Is Warren gonna love this.
- Wait. Phil, now, wait a minute.

Would | be caught dead in a place like
this if | weren't here under assignment?

Now... Look-Look...
Now, wait a minute.

This is all a mistake. Will
you let me put my shoes on?

Please. Will you please let me...
There's glass all over the joint here!

Look-Look... Wait.
Where-Where's Phil? Where's Phil?

Phil knows I'm innocent.
| don't like to watch girls.

- You don't like to watch girls?
- No, | don't... No, and I'm not that way either.

- Wait a minute. Wait.
- Get 'im outta here.

Now, wait! Listen, fellas. Can | tell
you something? This is all a mistake.

June 2. 1:20 a.m.

Warren's plan was to get me out of the way,
and it seemed to be working.

| lucked out,
and five minutes later...

| was back in the middle
of the action,

just in time to watch
Chicago's elite TAC squad

trying to pin down one
man... without any success.

There he is up there.

Look out! Look out!
He's comin' down!

- Look out!
- Watch out! Watch out!

Watch out! Stay away
from the hot fence!

| hope you found our
accommodations to your liking.

- Terrific.
- Thank you for your patience, Captain.

- My film. You exposed my film.
- We open all containers.

- | had pictures of the Ripper.
- You can take some more at his arraignment.

Arraignment? Do you think
this is a run-of-the-mill kook

you can go out and arrest?

- Yes, | do.
- You do. Well, you're wrong.

You can't, you won't,
and you'll never be able to.

- Oh, boy.
- No, no. Wait a minute, Tony.

This guy just doesn't think
he's the Ripper. He is the Ripper.

Have you ever heard
of Jack the Ripper?

Let me see if | understand you.
Are you saying that our Ripper

is the same man who killed those
seven women in London in the 1880s?

1888 to be precise. And it
was five... always five women.

He killed five women in and
around the Place Pigalle in Paris

in the summer of 1888.

Yeah. As a matter of fact,

he has killed, mutilated and maimed
over 70 women during the past 80 years

in 25 major cities from
Vladivostok to Milwaukee.

I'd better
tell Doc Harris to stand by.

| think we got a nut
that needs certifying.

For once be a cop
instead of an ostrich!

They tried to hang him in Germany,
and they couldn't.

On August 14, in 1904,

a crack-shot, 12-man
Athenian firing squad

tried three times to
execute him and couldn't.

Okay.

Okay, let's just take Chicago,
for example, right?

Now, he has killed three women.

He has jumped off of a
four-story building and survived.

He has been hit by an
automobile going 30 miles an hour.

And he has taken on
your crack TAC squad

in a tooth-and-nail
confrontation.

Now, do you mean to tell me
you're just gonna sit there,

and tell me that this is just an
ordinary guy you can go out and arrest?

| can safely say that, Kolchak.

Well, then you're sitting
on your brains!

Your superman is upstairs
on the maximum-security floor.

| wanna see that prisoner.

Kolchak,
he's in maximum security.

You know what maximum security
means? Nobody goes in. Nobody goes out.

That prisoner... he just broke
out of maximum security!

Uh-huh! Huh? Uh-huh! Sure.

Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Yeah. Yeah, operator,
I'm still holding.

Thanks. Jane's paper hasn't
heard from her since this morning.

- Talk to this guy when he gets on, will you?
- About what?

About the electric chair. Find
out when it first went into use.

You were a reporter.
Dig. Go on, dig.

- Oh, Bob? Captain Warren.
- You still here? You must like it.

Maybe you should spend
a night in the slammer.

It's a wild goose chase if
you try to shoot that guy.

We did it once.
We can do it again.

You did it once,
and he smashed down a steel door.

- How'd he do that?
- He had an accomplice on the outside.

He had an accomplice on the
outside? What's happening?

Will you shut up a minute! Not
you. There's somebody else here.

| talked to one of the guys
on the TAC squad.

It's that fence... the electrified
fence. That's what stopped him.

- What'd you find out? What?
- 1908.

Think. In 1908, in New York City,
they caught a Ripper.

- | don't have time for this.
- No. You gotta... You better make time for it.

Because that's one thing
that he's got plenty of.

And if you don't stop him now,
he's gonna go on forever.

You're an absurd man, Kolchak.

Listen, it's electricity.
Don't you understand?

That's the only thing he was scared of in
New York City in 1908. Do you know why?

Because he was scared of
the electric chair. That's why.

The rest of those guys went to
their deaths with smiles on their face.

Hello,
Mrs. Plumm? This is Carl Kolchak. Is Jane there?

Well, I'm worried about her too.
Where is she? You have any idea?

Uh-huh. Yeah. Belmont
Harbor. The fire department p...

Get-Get a piece of paper. Excuse me. Not you,
Mrs. Plumm.

Yeah. The fire department
pier on the Chicago River. Yeah.

And Wilton Park. Thank you very much. Thank you,
Mrs. Plumm. Bye.

- And Wilton Park.
- Wilton Park!

Kolchak? Kolchak!

You got change for a quarter?

Is that you, Jack?

What in the world
are you looking for?

Nothing.
I'm looking for nothing.

Mr. Vincenzo took them
away from you.

- Took what away?
- What you're looking for.

- What?
- The "Dear Emily" letters.

- What'd he do with them?
- I'm not gonna tell you.

- Uptight.
- Updyke.

If you think that you were
sickened by the murder of that girl,

just imagine... just think how sickened
you're gonna be at your own murder!

- Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!
- What...

Oh. Mr. Vincenzo.

- The only elevator is out again.
- Yes, terrible.

Mr. Vincenzo, it's almost 10:00.

- Yeah, yeah.
- Maybe you've forgotten... my Ripper feature.

The one | put on your desk...
The one you said you'd read.

| read it, Updyke. | read it.

If it's to go out over the wire for the
morning editions, it'll have to go out by 10:00.

10:00. Yeah, yeah.
What? Oh, yeah, sure. 10:00.

| thought I'd put it on the
Teletype as is. It has been proofed.

It's gonna need
more than proofing, Ron.

- Has Kolchak come back?
- Uh... | didn't tell him.

What do you think
you're doing, Carl?

What does it look like
I'm doing, playing jacks?

- It's on blue paper.
- What's on blue paper?

A "Dear Emily" letter,
postmarked about the eighth.

- It's almost 10:00. | have to send it.
- Go ahead, Ron.

The eighth? You mean
there are letters there

that have gone unanswered
since the eighth?

- Sloppy. Sloppy.
- Ron, hold it. Wait a minute.

What about this letter?
What's so important about it.

A woman wrote a letter
to "Dear Emily"

complaining about her
neighbor who had x-ray eyes.

She lives in Wilton Park.
Wilton Park!

Will you get off your
upholstered seat and help me!

Mr. Vincenzo,
what's wrong with my story?

It reads like an exposé
of the massage parlors, Ron.

That's my angle... what really
goes on inside a massage parlor.

The excessive sensuality,
the suggestive costumes.

- Blue. Blue!
- They have mirrors in the ceilings.

- No. As a matter of fact, they're antique gold.
- The paper. Blue paper.

- What about the murders?
- Frankly, there's not too much to say about them.

No one even cares to discuss it,
and | can certainly see why.

That's it! That's the one! Leave
everything just the way it is.

I'll come back and clean it up.

- What do you think about it?
- Weren't you on your way to the john, Updyke?

What do you want?

Miss Aganweiler?
My name's Carl Kolchak.

I'm with the Independent News Service.
I'm here about your "Miss Emily" letter.

- Uh, oh, yes. Go to the end of the walk.
- What?

- The end of the walk.
- The end of the walk?

Come on up. I'm number four.

Turn right
at the top of the stairs.

Miss Aganweiler,
here's your letter.

- Show me some I|.D.
- 1.D.

Uh-huh. |.D. Carl Kolchak. See?

- Okay.
- Okay.

Well, it's really more than
| expected from the paper.

- Yeah.
- | read that column all the time.

- Uh-huh?
- Over here.

Oh, yes. What a charming
apartment you have.

Yes. Is this all you do
for Miss Emily?

- Do?
- Well, you know, check on weirdos.

Well...

There's his house,
right over there.

- Old "X-ray eyes" himself.
- Uh-huh.

Never goes out in the daytime.

- Only goes out at night.
- Ah.

Yes, indeed.

- Was he out tonight?
- Yes, he-he was.

Uh,

9:22.

I've got him clocked
for the whole month.

Yeah, | see you have.
| see you have indeed.

- Mean anything?
- Yeah. Certain of these names and dates in here

coincide with some rather...
unusual events.

Uh, what happened tonight?

Well, he met this girl,
right down below there in the park.

- What'd she look like?
- Fat.

- Fat?
- Sort of fat.

And here's the postscript.

When they drained that
pond, they found nothing...

Nothing but some old clothes.

For some reason, the
police suddenly decided

they wanted those... and my head.

| don't know how Vincenzo
will handle the charges

of arson and malicious mischief

lodged against me
by Captain Warren,

but that fire was
a big one... a six-alarmer.

A blast furnace couldn't
have done a better job.

Everything gone... the house,
my story, the evidence.

Like they say, ashes to ashes.

One thing survived
the inferno however.

There's enough of it left to
read the name of the maker.

Peele's Footwear,
London, Southwest 17.

They're still there, of course,
but they don't make this style shoe anymore.

It was discontinued
over 70 years ago.

Seventy... years... ago.

How could you explain it?

Who could explain it?

Who'd believe it?