All language subtitles for Target The Corruptors - S01E09 - The Golden Carpet

Each year, millions upon
millions of dollars are milked

from gullible people by
the charity racketeers.

Corruptors who line
their own pockets with money

meant for the needy and the deserving.

Kids whose lungs hunger for
the fresh air of a country camp.

Victims of fires, which destroy every
possession accumulated over a lifetime.

The victims of floods, forced to
abandon their homes to the ravages of nature.

Those who suffer through
long time industrial shutdowns,

for whom shoes and nice
clothes are dreams of the past.

Victims of dust bowls and crop failures,

who must leave their homes to
find a livelihood elsewhere.

And in other parts of the world,
the victims of war, famine and hate,

who yearn only for
food and love and peace.

These are the victims of the racketeers,

whose corrupt operations make
it difficult for legitimate

charities to function most effectively.

These robbers of the
poor box were the object

of a series of columns I was preparing,

and which tonight was coming into focus.

Put Marino on. I've got to talk to him.

Who is this?

Mayberry? Yeah.

Tell him I'm ready with
that story, like I promised.

This is Jack Flood.

Why didn't you call him
when you were supposed to?

I couldn't. Somebody was on
my tail. I had to shake him.

Oh.

Well, okay, but understand,
look, I'm taking a big risk.

What I've got to tell,
there's a price on it.

A big price.

We'll see. We'll see about that.

But it fits right in with these
articles he's writing on crooked charities.

Look, I'm giving you the guy behind the
biggest charity record in the country.

Where are you?

Just around the corner of
Walnut and Ninth Street.

Well, get here right away. Right.

Oh, mister.

You got a match?

Sure.

Yes, sir. Thank you for calling, sir.

Yes? Paul Marino. I have a
reservation. Oh, just one moment, sir.

I hope you don't mind, Mr. Marino, but we
had to give you one of the smaller rooms.

All the better ones were
reserved earlier by Mr.

Charles Baxter and the
National Children's League.

You mind watching that drag for a little
while? I'll be with you in a few minutes.

Thank you.

May I help you?

Oh, I'm looking for Mr. Baxter.
Is he expecting you? I doubt it.

Well, then I doubt if he'll
have time to see you, mister.

Marino, Paul Marine.

Oh, the columnist.

You make the words sound like a time bomb.

I'll tell him you're here.

Chuck Baxter. Pleasure meeting
you. I read your column religiously.

Your words seem to come
out of a machine gun.

That piece you did on phony
charities, I said to myself, thank God.

Thank God that someone has finally
pulled the weeds out of the garden,

pulled them out by the roots, so that
the decent, honest charities can thrive.

Well, I'm still trying to pull
out the weeds, Mr. Blackstick.

Ah, well, by George, I
hope so. I hope so. I mean,

you turn your back for one
minute, and there are the weeds again,

just as though you'd never
pulled them out in the first place.

Fine, then I take it I can
count on your cooperation.

What? Need you ask?

I mean, if I hear of anyone, anything
rotten in any charity organization,

you'll be the first to know.

Well, I was talking about your
organization, Mr. Baxter. Mine?

Well, a man who uses
words as a tool to betray

should be a little more careful, not mine.

But the people's organization, those who
give to it, those who receive from it.

I'm just a hired hand, an organ
grinder's monkey, if you will,

who receives with one
hand, gives away with the

other. Let's step into
my office, shall we?

You must have come a long way. I expect
you could do with a little relaxation.

I know what it's like to
be alone in a strange town.

I used to be a traveling salesman
of the encyclopedias a young man.

I sold plenty of
encyclopedias, but all those nights,

there's nothing to do but read
the encyclopedias. Oh, listen,

I have a few free tickets to a
show tonight if you'd be interested.

If you're interested, they're yours.

Perhaps one of our young ladies
would be delighted to accompany you.

I mean, after all, a man of your prestige.

Oh, Charles! Could you
come over here, please?

Excuse me, just a moment.
Yes, Grace, what's the problem?

We can't leave it aside.

Should the Marching Mothers do it alone,

or should they make
their collection in pairs?

Well, in my humble opinion, alone.

I mean, after all, we don't want to
pressure anyone, do we? Ah, are these the kits?

Oh, yes, they just arrived.

Each woman who makes
door-to-door solicitations

will carry one of these kits with her.

Ah, all right. Now, you see,

inside there's room for her
literature and for her receipt books.

Yeah, that's rather elaborate, isn't
it? Yeah, yes, but we're proud of them.

I'll take this with me, Grace.
I want to show it to someone.

Oh, ladies, this is Paul Marino.

These lovely ladies are running the
Mother's March, which starts tomorrow, baby.

Broadly how Charles
gives everybody credit.

Well, ladies, shall we? This way, Paul.

That was Grace Abbott, chairlady of
Volunteers. She's first family around here,

belongs to all the best clubs. She's
a fine person, a dedicated worker.

Chuck. Yeah, Chuck. We're going to
need more seats in the auditorium.

For the proper seating
arrangement, I suggest we put the mayor here,

the governor here, and
the state senators there.

All right, anything you want.
Gentlemen, just mention it to Annie,

and she'll take care of it. Oh,
I'd like you to meet Paul Marino.

This is Judge Williston and Congressman
Riker, two of the best members of our team.

Hello.

Marino?

You write The
Corrupters, Colin? That's right.

Run for your life, Congressman.
Run for your safe box, Judge.

You've met Ann Fielding? Oh, yes.

Ann is the heart and soul of our
organization. Without this little dynamo,

absolutely nothing would
get done. Absolutely nothing.

Those letters are ready
for you to sign. Oh, good.

And the mayor called. He wants
to talk to you about his speech.

Again? Well, I'm afraid he's
just going to have to wait.

Sit down, Paul, and fire away. Now,

what would you like to know
about our little organization?

Everything.

Everything, huh? Well,
that's quite a big order.

But give me the big
orders every time. Annie,

would you put together a
set of literature, please?

Everything we've got. Well, this is
only our second year, you understand.

The picture's changing, but in 14 states,

we still raise our funds by
door-to-door campaigns... In others,

we solicit by mail, and of
course, we hold these big rallies.

This week here, next week in New
York, following week in Dallas.

Exactly where does this money go?

Exactly where it'll do the most good.

Annie, do you have a copy
of that financial report?

I thought you had it.

Me? I, uh...

I don't think so.

We have a committee that
determines where every penny goes.

I'd be glad to send you a
financial report if you'd like one.

Aren't you going to ask me about that?

Do you want me to?

Well, it explains how I
happened to choose this profession.

You notice the time on
this watch is 10.34 a.m.

10.34 a.m., February the 8th, 1930.

The big depression.

Things at home were... hopeless.

We had nothing.

There's a kid in my
school. He had everything.

The chauffeur used to drive him to
school every day in a Pierce Arrow.

One day he left his locker open,
and I saw this watch on the shelf.

Pretty good watch for a kid, huh?

My father used to have
to go to the pawn shop

window to see what
time it was on his watch.

So you stole it?

No.

No, I threw it on the ground
and jumped on it, smashed it.

You see, it doesn't hurt so
much to have nothing when

all the people around
you are in the same boat.

When the people around
you still have plenty.

And it really hurts.

Well, anyway, I ended up in old
man Deaver's office, the principal.

Chuck.

What's all this noise
about free seats for VIPs?

This is a charity show. If they
want to see it, let them pay. Vince,

I'd like you to meet
Paul Marino, the columnist.

This is our very dedicated
business manager, Mr. Vince Tyler.

Hello.

Someone has to be the
conscience of underprivileged children

so as not to waste any money
that might otherwise go to them.

Hope to see you later.

You will stay for a while.

Oh, sure. I'll be around.

Good.

You were telling me about
this, uh... Oh, yes, the watch.

I, uh... I smashed it.

Well, they were going to expel me.

Some members of the
PTA went to bat for me,

even offered to buy me a watch of my own.

Well, I was so, so grateful
that I decided right then

that someday I'd do the
same thing for other kids,

that someday I, It would help other kids
who had been less fortunate than I was.

So you kept this smashed watch
as a constant reminder of that.

Charles, guess who's just arrived?

Tina Bellardi.

Tina Bellardi?

Oh, I, uh, I forgot to
tell you. She, um...

She, uh, she sent us a wire.

She sent us a wire last night.

She, uh... Charles!

Tina, Carla, me a welcome.

Charles, follow me.

Tina, Tina, you look
beautiful. Bella, Bella.

You're not so bad for looking yourself.

Tina, I'd like you two
famous people to meet.

Tina Bilardi, this is
Paul Marino, the columnist.

Piacere.

How do you do? And this is our
executive secretary, Anne Fielding.

Piacere.

I admire so much the
writing from Hollywood. Mr.

Marino is hardly a gossip columnist.

I still admire to weave together the
words that stir the heart and soul.

La magia, magic.

You weave plenty of magia
yourself, if I may say so, without words.

Un momento, per favore.
Momento, momento, momento.

Yes.

It makes me nervous. And what
comes out in the newspapers?

Well, now, now, Tina, now, Tina,

we'd like very much to
send for a Hollywood

photographer for you, but now just think.

Think how many little
pairs of shoes would have

to be sacrificed, how many school lunches.

You hear that? That's the
way to handle the actress.

Oh, you big papa boy, he's an expert.

Now, momento, per favore,
you got the room for Bellarti?

Yes, yes, I have.

Grace, Grace, would you take
care of this, please? Tina, Tina,

would you just go with Grace,
please, dear? Arrivederci. Arrivederci.

Arrivederci. Goodbye.
Goodbye. Thank you very much.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Well, how's that for support? Tina
Velarde comes here to get on our team. Now,

that's the kind of a
reputation this organization has.

Here's some very interesting
material. I'm sure it'll be a big help.

First starter.

Thank you.

If you're staying at the hotel,

I'd be glad to see that you
get only the best treatment,

only the best for the
gentleman of the press.

I'm sure you wouldn't try to
influence what I write. Oh,

you'll be influenced all right,

but only by all the good
that this organization does.

Like an ancient countryman of
yours, a G.I. named Mark Antony,

who came to bury Caesar
and stayed to praise him.

I see you studied your encyclopedia well.

Goodbye. Bye. You ought to rub
this thing down. It looks too new.

Just what is Tina Bilardi doing here?

Oh, Annie, Annie, don't be so suspicious.

How did you expect me to take it?

Well, what do you expect me to do? Tina
just dropped in on us out of the sky.

She needs publicity. That's
why she's forcing herself on us.

Now, why shouldn't we reap the benefits?

Things always work out so conveniently
for you so very... Now, Annie, listen.

Now, you listen to me. I
joined you in this noble

enterprise because I was in love with you.

Because we were in love with each other,

and that hasn't changed any
more than the law of gravity.

Oh, yes, it has. I'm a decoy for
you. I'm a decoy for the social set.

No, you were.

You were, but you're not anymore.

I'd be lost without you now, Annie.

Lost.

We are both lost in
this operation, Charles.

All right, so we reap a few
dividends, if that's what you mean.

Just to repay us for
hard work, that's all.

You reap a lot more than a few dividends.

All right, but we still help kids.

They get things they'd never get if
we weren't in business. Look, Annie,

we work a few angles like everybody
else. Now, nowadays, to get ahead,

you've got to be realistic.

I still have a few friends who manage
very nicely without your kind of realism.

This way, Mr. Marino.

Oh, wait a minute, son. Wait a minute.

This doesn't look like the
room I was supposed to get.

Are you kidding? It sure ain't. This is
golden carpet treatment. Golden what?

A golden carpet. Well, that's the name the

hotel gives for it.
Better than red carpet.

Our special hospitality
package for VIPs. The finest

hotel suites, room
service, a car if you want it.

Why did they switch me?

Well, a call came through from Mr.
Baxter of National Children's Week.

Hold it, son.

There's nothing to
worry about, Mr. Moreno.

You're in good company on this floor.

Judge Willison, Congressman Reichert,
Mr. Baxter, of course, and best of all,

Tina Bilardi, all here
on the golden carpet.

You mean the hotel donates all these
rooms to National Children's Week?

The hotel.

The hotel donates ice water.

Take my things back to my own room and
tell the manager I'll pay my own tab.

Well, it's a legitimate expense for the
organization, what they call promotional,

all tax deductible on Uncle Sammy.

Here.

Thank you, Mr. Marino.

If there's anything else I
can do for you, you will later.

Mr. Marino, here's your
long-distance call to Mr. Flood in New York.

You're welcome.

Yes, Jack.

Murdered?

Well, how is he murdered?

No clues, huh?

Well, can you get in here right away?

What for? Because I need a pretty smart
detective. That's what for. All right, fine.

Always up, higher and higher.

I say, what goes up must come down.

Not in these days of
satellites and rockets.

Oh, Charles, Mr. Marino is here.

Yes, I took the liberty of
showing him to your office.

Marino?

Thank you, Grace.

Yes, Paul. What can I do for you?

Well, you can fill me in on
a man named Carl Mayberry.

Mayberry?

You do know him, don't you?

Yes, yes, of course.

Why, has he been bothering you?
Well, he tried to see me in New York,

but we missed connection.

What do you want to know about him?

He said word that he had the
inside story on this outfit.

I might have expected him to say that.

Why? Well, I'd rather not go
into it, if you don't mind.

I don't believe in
kicking a man when he's down.

I wish you would go into it.

Carl Mayberry is a vindictive man.

About what?

A number of years ago, we were
partners in a small mail order business.

He used the facilities without my
knowledge to perpetrate a mail fraud.

I found out about it, reported him to
the authorities, and he went to jail.

So, now he's out for revenge.

It's preposterous, isn't it?

He thinks he can force
me to turn over money

that belongs to National Children's Week.

Blackmail. That's all his
story amounts to, Paul.

Pure blackmail.

I see. Oh, by the way, Mayberry is dead.

Someone didn't want him to talk to
me, so he stuck a knife into him.

Vince, I want to see you right away.

What's up, Charles?

Mayberry's dead.

So he's dead. So what?

So you killed a man.

Got any eyewitnesses?
Don't give me that innocence.

All I did was make the
arrangements with a specialist.

I was brought up on the
idea that when it comes

to using a knife, Always get a specialist.

Where do you come off pulling a stunt
like that? Where? To save your neck on mine,

that's where. Now listen, Vince.

Now simmer down.

Don't go losing your
well-known air-conditioned charm.

The cops are nowhere on it.

No clues, no leads.

We're absolutely clean.

Why didn't you discuss this with me
first? I make the decisions around here.

I put this outfit together. It's mine.

And mine.

I've got a stake here, too,
and I'm going to protect it,

even if I have to make my own decisions.

And you listen to me.

I picked you up when you were
nothing but a two-bit bookkeeper.

Because I felt sorry for
you because you just finished

serving time and you couldn't get
a job, so you'll do what I say!

The only reason you took me in was
for my well-known talent with figures.

My talent to add and
subtract and multiply figures.

And make them come out exactly
as you want them to come out.

And I like exercising my talent.

I'm not sitting back and let
somebody work us over in the newspapers.

Well, I don't want any strong-arm
stuff, you understand? I don't want it.

Did you want Mayberry to get to Moreno?

Did you want the government
on your neck for tax returns?

Okay.

We discussed it.

Just like business people.

You run the front office.

Show them your...

Trick watch, and keep the VIPs happy.

I'll handle the practical problems.

I try not to listen in on
the conversation, Mr. Moreno,

but sometimes I just can't help it.

Park Lake Hotel?

One moment, please.

If I didn't listen in once in a
while, I'd get straight out of my mind.

No idea how monotonous this job is.
Plug it in, pull it out, plug it in,

pull it out. Oh, there are times I
want to scream. Then go ahead, scream.

Cream?

Well, sure, it's good
for you once in a while.

Oh, no, I wouldn't dare.

Barclay Hotel.

One moment, please.

Would you dare do something for me?

Like what?

Like letting me take a look at that
list of phone calls Mr. Baxter's made.

You're cute, Mr. Marino, but I
couldn't possibly do such a thing,

not without the manager's permission.

It might make you feel a lot
better than even the loudest scream.

What do you mean?

Look, you've given something to the
National Children's Fund, haven't you?

Who hasn't?

I've got kids of my own. I know
how important this is for the kids.

Sure, and you'd like to
make sure that it all

goes to those kids for whom
it was intended, wouldn't you?

What a question!

Then suppose you let me take a look
at that list of phone calls he's made.

But the rule here is that... The rule
here is you're a mechanical octopus.

Plug in, plug out, plug in, plug out.

You never think for yourself.

All right, Mr. Marino, but...
But you... you be quick with it.

I will, Roxanne.

That might make you lose your job.

You're a nice guy, Mr.
Marino, and a big tipper.

But so is Mr. Baxter a nice
guy, and an even bigger tipper.

Park Lake Hotel.

One moment, please.

Here's the kit they used in
their last campaign in New York.

They really did it up brown, didn't they?

Top grain leather, gold engraving, all
the little luxuries that cost money.

Let's print it right here.

Well, what's next?

You go to work in their boiler room.

I found out about it from the bellhop of
the hotel. He works there in a spare time.

There it is, the ground floor apartment.

A fellow from the
phone company told me they

installed five new lines there on Monday.

Smells boiler room to me.

Yeah, so does the motor scooter.

They probably used that
to pick up the donations.

Hey, you're in business.

There he is, the bellhop.

He's your contact. Meet him in the bar.

He'll introduce you to the guy
in charge of the boiler room.

How'd you manage it?

He seemed very much interested in
something in the hotel called the carpet of gold.

I showed him something
a lot more interesting.

A carpet of green.

The outward appearance of
a corrupt charity is often

disguised with the most
respectable trappings.

The corruptors copy and employ all
the techniques of legitimate charities.

For instance, the Mother's March,
used so effectively by the Red Cross,

the Community Chest, and
similar organizations whose

service to the American
people is known to all of us.

The corruptors employ the TV
appeal used by the Heart Fund,

the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund,

and others who have contributed so
much to the welfare of humanity.

The corruptors appeal
through the mail with their

own version of Christmas and Easter Seals,

hoping to ride the coattails of
those organizations which have made

such strides in helping
tuberculosis patients and crippled children.

They appeal to you to buy a statuette of
G.I. Joe and help the handicapped veterans.

But they don't tell you which handicapped
veterans, only where to send the money.

They say you solicited
for charity drives before.

I said I worked in boiler
rooms before. How many?

Four. No, five.

Suppose you're selling ads
in a program for a big rally.

How would you go about it if
you got a man on the phone?

He says maybe he'll buy half the page. He
asked for your number to call you back.

I give him the wrong
number, and I forget it.

You call a lawyer for a contribution.

Who do you say you are, head of
the Bar Association or something?

Doctor, minister, anything
except the same profession.

Suppose you get a sucker
who wants to buy, say,

a quarter page that says compliments
of a friend or something like that.

How would you talk him
into putting his name on it?

I wouldn't.

I'd push the compliments of the friend ad.

That way you can sell the
same space ten times over,

and nobody knows the difference.

How much commission do you work for?

The usual. 35%.

Flood had started
working in the boiler room.

So-called because this is where good eggs
are softened up for the charity racketeer.

Where thousands of dollars are
rinsed out of an unsuspecting city.

Where pitchmen put on the
steam for fancy commissions.

And the same to you, mister.

Hello, Mr. Grant. This
is Alderman Richards.

I'm calling all my good neighbors on
behalf of National Children's Week.

You might not be a religious person,

but we like to think that those
who find it in their hearts to buy

space in our program are also
buying themselves space up above.

That's right, a half-page ad will
provide a hundred pair of shoes.

And a full-page ad will send ten
unfortunate children to camp for the summer.

Not only do you perform your sacred
duty to this wonderful community,

but you also purchase some fine
institutional advertising for your bank.

Well, it boils down to one thing.

If your name isn't in
that program Saturday night,

everybody in town will
think you're a cheapskate.

Yes, that's wonderful.

Well, thank you very much, sir.

We'll send a messenger right
over to pick up your check.

Goodbye. Good day, sir.
Not bad. Not bad at all.

Mr. Jackson, excuse me a minute, but
the district assemblyman just came in,

and he'd like to talk to you about this.

Just a moment, sir.

Jackson, machine tools.

Got to get this stuff to
the bank before it closes.

Let's see what kind of
an assemblyman you make.

Machine tools, huh?

Hello, Mr. Jackson.

My friend here tells me
you'd like to know a little

bit more about National Children's Week.

Well, I'll tell you how I see it.

I see it as an opportunity,

a chance to put our town
on the map as a dynamic

industrial community
with a great big heart.

Last minute, I'll knock the door.

Bud, the whistle blew.

Look, you go on. I've got a couple more
calls to make. I'll catch up with you.

Okay.

Yes, yes, that's
right. A half-page ad will

provide 100 shoes, 100 pair of shoes, yes.

And a full-page ad... Yes,
well, thank you very much.

Here are the bills from the
Priority Novelty Company for the kids.

Here are the bills for mailing. Oh boy,

they could mail out the
Empire State Building for that.

And here are the bills for printing.

Oh, brother.

Well, we'll have to have
photostats of these in the right away.

Then get these originals back in
the files as quick as you can.

I checked on the outfit that was
supposed to make the collection kits.

It turned out to be nothing more
than desk space and a telephone.

A front where the bills
were paid, nothing more.

The kits were made
elsewhere. They wouldn't say where.

I paid a visit to the company that
was doing the mailing for Baxter,

the West End Corporation.

It had moved its offices
only a few weeks before.

I found out it kept moving to
a new city every time Baxter

and the National Children's
Fund moved to a new city.

I checked on the printing company
that did their programs and brochures.

It was hidden away in a
rundown part of the city.

The entire place could be bought for
one-tenth the charge of the printing to Baxter.

The one man who worked there
was somewhat less than friendly.

But whether he liked it or not, certain
business records are open to the public.

Except that the public
doesn't always check on them.

Always up higher and higher and higher.

Andia, what about the flowers?

In the silver room. Oh, they
go to the silver room, please.

Grace, you're sure Mr. Baxter knows the
party starts at 8 o'clock? Oh, I think so.

He didn't say where he
was going when he went out?

I believe he was going to his hotel room.

Andy, don't you think you
ought to go and change?

Otherwise you'll never be ready in time.

No, I'll wait. Oh,
I'll see you later, dear.

Operator?

Operator? This is the operator.

Hello.

You're a little early
for the party, Mr. Marino.

Well, I suppose you
helped me pass the time.

Something tells me you
could use a tall, cool drink.

Is that how you usually dig up your
information, over a tall, cool drink?

Well, if you prefer a church
somewhere, a nice, empty church.

When I go to church, I
prefer to sit alone.

Oh, I'd be glad to wait outside for
you while you went in to contemplate,

let's say, Mayberry's death.

I suppose you can clarify that.

I could.

But I think you'd do
better to ask Baxter about it.

He was in on it.

You're a liar, Mr. Marino,

and you have absolutely no right
throwing him in with anything like that.

Ask him.

And ask him why he hid it from you.

You'll find him in his room.

Charlie forgot to kiss me goodbye.
Tina, I'll see you later at the party.

Charlie, what's the matter?
See you later at the party.

Annie?

Annie, is everything ready for the party?

Check on the party yourself.

I'm... Annie, I think we'd
better have a little talk.

Leave me alone. I've had enough
of this. I don't want anymore.

Now, look, Annie, I told you I
love you and I needed you. Now,

how many times must I repeat?
Annie, I'm not going to permit you.

Let me go and leave me alone.

Look, there is absolutely
nothing left. I'm cleaned

out. I gambled it all
away. What do you mean?

Gambled?

I'm a big pleo.

Step right up, girls. Win a man and
be happy for the rest of your life.

You're 28 and single? Well, just plunk
down your bet and win the man of your choice.

Around and around the wheel goes and
where she stops, nobody knows. Penny,

will you cut that out? All it
costs is your ego, girls. Your ego,

your self-respect, and your
whole rotten, foolish life.

What if he doesn't love you? You
can always tell yourself he'll learn.

And you'll live happily
ever after, if you win.

Annie, will you stop and listen to me?

Oh, but if you lose, it is
humiliating and it is shameful.

Oh, Charles, you have absolutely no idea.

Annie, you didn't lose.
I told you I love you.

There's absolutely no reason for shame.

Oh, isn't there? A human
being has been destroyed,

and you say there's no cause for shame.

Destroyed?

Carl Mabry was murdered.

Marino just told me. And you
know what, Charles? I feel sick.

But, Annie, listen, I had nothing
to do with that, absolutely nothing.

I knew not an inkling. It was Vince
and somebody he got to do the job.

Somebody he got? Annie,
you've got to believe me.

I knew absolutely nothing about it, but
that sort of thing will never happen again.

I've made it perfectly
clear to Vince, never.

Annie, Annie, you've got to believe me.

Annie, Annie, don't look at me that way.

Even if no one else has
faith in me, you must.

Annie, won't you please
think this over? Lonnie,

where are you going?
Where are you gonna go?

I want to be as far
away from here as I can.

Or maybe take a bath and
wash myself clean if I can.

Goodbye, Annie, huh?

How come?

She found out about Mayberry.

How? You? No, Marino.

Smart man.

He knows where to put the pressure.

The weak link.

I told her that sort of
thing would never happen again.

It was stupid of you to admit it.

Sure we are.

You know Annie, she's just stubborn,
that's all. She's like a toy bull.

She gets her teeth into something, you
gotta break her jaw to make her let go.

What I'm wondering is, do you have
to break her jaw to keep her quiet?

No.

No.

Not Annie.

She'll be back.

¶¶ May I have your
attention, please? Just for a moment.

I would like to propose
a toast to Tina Bilardi,

our National Children's Week
queen, who has heard the sad,

still voice of human suffering,
and who has responded so nobly.

Thank you, thank you so much.
Charles, you're too, too wonderful.

Grace, has Annie called?
Has she come back yet?

Uh, ladies and gentlemen, ladies and
gentlemen, could I... Uh, ladies and gentlemen,

A generous man or woman is
the noblest work of God.

I'm referring now not so much
to those of you who have given

so generously financially
to National Children's Week,

but those of you who
have given of something

far more precious, the days of your lives.

Last year, you helped
raise a magnificent sum

of three-quarters of a million dollars.

How much of that went to
Priority Incorporated?

I beg your pardon?

How much did you pay to
the Priority Novelty Company

for manufacturing the collection kits?

How much to the West End
Corporation for handling the mailing?

How much to the Mill
City Press for programs?

Well, I don't know the exact figures.

I could check on it. It was
$620,867, wasn't it? What?

I think that's a little high.

But it's no secret. Those are highly
efficient firms. They do a good job.

That's why they were
awarded the contracts.

They were awarded those
contracts for one simple reason.

All three of those firms are
owned by you and Vincent Tyler.

Me and Tyler? Now, that is absurd. In
what bar room did you get that idea?

And you have no right to make these
unwarranted accusations, Mr. Marino.

I've double-checked
everything. It wasn't easy.

Public officials don't like
to investigate charities.

Now look, if you're going
to turn this into an...

I found you have quite a
history in the charity game.

Yes, I have quite a history in
the charity game, as you call it.

I'm a professional
fundraiser and proud of it.

I'll be glad to answer any
questions you have, but certainly not here.

These good people came to enjoy
themselves, so if you don't mind...

Harry Lee, if you don't
mind. Perhaps you should let

him talk. Oh, Congressman,
this is ridiculous. Yes.

Let's hear the rest of it.

Mr. Baxter's history in
the charity game will be

the subject of several
of my upcoming articles.

One in particular will deal with the
operation of a boiler room where funds

are solicited in the heartwarming
name of National Children's Week.

By means of every fraudulent trick
in the books. Now, just a minute.

I had nothing to do
with anything like that.

I've never authorized any such...
Tell that to the other charities,

the legitimate ones, the ones that
should have received this money.

Money you siphoned off
for your head man in

the boiler room,
Vincent Tyler. It's crazy.

Ridiculous.

Every penny that's come
in has been accounted for.

Flood!

Just a minute. I'm not going to stand by
while you try to crucify innocent people.

Don't try to cover up for Tyler.

He just tried to have
Anne Fielding killed.

Just like he did Mayberry.

She's in the hospital right now, in shock.

Strapped to her bed.

The debris, not only of lost
dollars, but more important...

Of lost hope, of misguided generosity,

of misplaced enthusiasm by
public-spirited Americans

and well-meaning but
gullible public officials.

What goes up must come
down, at least here on Earth.

Wherever there's dirt,
it must be swept away.

So if tomorrow your
phone rings and a friendly

voice appeals to your better instincts,

or if your mail contains
seals or unordered merchandise,

or pictures of hungry children,

or if somebody knocks on your door and
solicits for the starving, the homeless,

the handicapped, check up
on them before you give.

Find out if the money they collect
will really go for the purpose claimed.

Otherwise, that money you worked so
hard for may go to the corruptors.