06x11 - A Puzzle for One

[bunniefuu]

What's the problem, Peggy?

It's just a simple letter.

I'm trying to figure out
how to phrase your simple letter

so that you don't get
sued for libel.

Yeah, well, don't make it
too tactful.

Jerry!

Hiya, Peg.

Is, uh, Joe in?

Mm-hmm.

With his nose
in the football scores.

Joe, Jerry Henderson's here.

Jerry!

Hiya, Joe.

Everything okay?

Yeah, sure.

I was, uh, driving by,

and I thought I'd just
stop in and say thanks.

For what?

Some clients wanted
a private investigator,

I recommended a pretty good one
I happen to know.

Oh, Joe.

No, I was scraping bottom.

bucks in the bank.

So, uh, muchas gracias
for four paying clients.

Forget it.
Hey, how is Helen?

Oh, great.

When I'm working, she's smiling.

She wants you
to come over for dinner.

You know, I could use
a home-cooked meal.

Well, how about Wednesday?

It's a date.

See you Wednesday.
Right.

So long, Peg.

Oh, uh, don't let that gumshoe
exploit you.

Do I have a choice?

Wednesday you've got a date.

Cancel it.

With a girl.

Win a few, lose a few.

Well, I guess
my Wednesday night is free.

What?

Nothing.

Did Jerry mention
anything we can go on?

No, he was tapped out.

He just stopped by to thank me
for steering a few

peephole cases his way
a couple of weeks ago.

You know, maybe he wasn't
a born winner,

but... it wasn't because
he didn't try.

I really liked
that son of a g*n.

Guys in your end of the business
rub a lot of dirty elbows, Joe.

What do you mean by that?

Well, you said yourself
he was tapped out.

Maybe opportunity knocked,

he opened the door
for a little extra cash.

Dan, Jerry didn't open
that kind of door.

We never know, Joe,
even about people we like.

Anyway, I'm gonna go
check his books.

You want to tag along?

No.

No, somebody's got to tell Helen

her husband isn't
coming home for dinner.

years.

You think you'll get used to it.

You-you watch him
load his g*n every morning,

and you think
you'll get used to it,

but you don't.

All you do is you-you wait
for one night someone to come in

and say, "He's dead.

He was working on a case,
and it k*lled him."

Helen...

if, uh, if there's anything
I can do...

No, Joe.

I'm all right.

I'm just, uh, tired.

That's all.

Forgive me, Helen, but, uh...

did Jerry ever say anything
about anybody gunning for him,

uh, somebody that was
out to even a score,

or maybe a case he was
working on that went wrong?

He kept his cases in the office.

He said that that's where
they belonged.

If I could lie down,
maybe I could,

maybe I could sleep.

Would you like me to stay with
you till your sister gets here?

Oh, no.

Thanks, Joe.

Hey, you got things to do.

Don't worry about me.

Helen...

whoever did it, I promise...

Joe, please, no.

Now, I don't want you
to get hurt.

Remember, if there's
anything... anything.

Have you got them, Peggy?

Here they are, Joe.

The four cases
you turned over to Jerry.

Not much, are they?

Not enough to get k*lled for.

Extortion, a two-timing husband,

small-time pusher and a guy
with a loan shark on his back.

Definitely not much.

You tried to help Jerry, Joe.

It's nothing
to blame yourself for.

Yeah, four cases I didn't want,

so I sloughed them off
on Jerry-- charity day.

Charity day, suddenly,
one of them jumps up and boom,

he's in pieces
and Helen's out a husband.

Didn't have to be one of the
cases you turned over to Jerry.

A cop, public or private,
has enemies.

Yeah, but most of them don't
wire a b*mb to your ignition.

Which one of these cases
called first for my services?

The extortion--
a Mrs. Diane Glover.

Beautiful.

I wasn't in enough trouble,
now I'm mixed up in a m*rder.

Beautiful.

You may not be mixed up
in it at all, Mrs. Glover.

I'm just running down the things

Jerry Henderson was working on
when it happened.

Oh, I'm mixed up
in it all right.

$, worth.

Payoff?

Yeah, payoff.

What were you
being blackmailed for?

What is anybody
ever blackmailed for?

A mistake.

Look, Mr. Mannix,
I'm married to a man

who right now
is dean of a university.

And in a month, he may be
president of that university,

and there's nothing
in this world

to stop him from getting it,

except one little item.

Your mistake.

My mistake.

Far away, long ago-- my mistake.

years ago.

I was years old and crazy
about making it as an actress.

I was dead broke.

Oatmeal for dinner.

That's how broke.

So I...

I grabbed anything...
to survive.

The "anything"...

well, it, uh...

it took place
in a small, dirty studio,

with a...

with a bed in the corner.

And the cameras
kept grinding away

for maybe an hour and a half.

So I- ate.

I survived.

The film was never released.

At least, uh, not in a theater.

But somebody had the negative,

and somebody knew
that I'm now Mrs. Glover.

And the asking price is $,.

And, uh, Jerry Henderson
made the contact.

So he said.

He was supposed to deliver
the film to me tomorrow,

and I was, uh, I was going to...

I was going to sit here
in this room with a...

with a bottle
of chilled champagne

and watch that piece
of celluloid burn.

Well, uh, who did you
make the... film for?

You didn't ask
the producer's name,

or whether he'd ever
won an Oscar or not.

Well, uh, thank you,
Mrs. Glover.

If Jerry Henderson found him
and had it all set up,

I'll catch up to him.

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

If you find him, step on him.

He'll probably go squish.

You know something, Joe?

It takes me longer
to get into a bathrobe

than out of a costume.

Bobbi, I need help.

Oh, who doesn't, Joe?

I've got a client
that was once an actress.

Yeah?

Tell me, tell me.

She famous?

Not exactly.

She made a film once,
in color-- blue.

Oh, skin flick.

They're all over town, Joe.

Yeah, and the guy she made it
for is willing to sell it

for five grand,
and she's willing to pay.

Why?

She having her own film festival
or something?

Oh, the guy she's married to

is about to become
the head of a big university.

Aha.

So she did all right
for herself, huh?

Apparently, the guy
she made this film for

has been in the business
at least years.

And my guess is
he's still in action.

Hey, Joe, some of these guys

have been around
a long, long time.

With, uh, blackmail
as a little sideline?

You're right.

That is a little bit
illegitimate.

Oh, uh, years,
blackmail and blue movies.

Oh, I'd say that this guy's got

to be living pretty high,
right, Bobbi?

I mean, he ought
to be a real fat cat.

For sure.

Okay. Let me think.

It's not Manny, no.

Gypso.

Who?

Gypso Martin.

I did a quickie for him once.

You know what I got?
A bum check.

But the guy really spends, Joe,

spends much more than he makes
producing movies.

Uh, you're sure
about this blackmail?

This is not a nice man, Joe.

He would squeeze the last nickel
out of his own dead mother.

And, uh, where would I find
this Mr. Martin?

Uptown, when he's home.

Usually, he's at a trap
he calls a studio.

Which is where?

Shamrock.

Get everything, Charlie.

Right, Lieutenant.

What did Gypso have to do
with Jerry Henderson?

He was blackmailing
one of Jerry's clients.

Say, Dan, what happens
to all this film?

Nobody claims it, we burn it.

Somebody claims it,
we've got a suspect.

Or a dirty old man.

You know, Joe, the only way
this makes sense is,

whoever dumped Martin into that
vat had to hate him pretty good.

He also had to be pretty strong.

From the looks
of the scuff marks on the floor,

he didn't go into that vat
without a fight.

Any of your clients
that muscular, Joe?

Not the one he was blackmailing.

And who was he blackmailing?

A kid who used to eat oatmeal
for dinner.

Mrs. Forsythe?

Hi.

If I remember correctly,
Mr. Mannix,

the last time we met,
I got the distinct impression

divorce cases were beneath you.

Well, I, uh, was a little
overworked at the time.

And now?

I'd be more than happy
to handle your case,

Mrs. Forsythe,
if you still want me.

I'm sorry, but I'm perfectly
satisfied with Mr. Henderson.

It was in all the papers.

What was?

Jerry Henderson was k*lled
yesterday.

k*lled?

m*rder*d.

I saw him only last Monday.

Mrs. Forsythe,

how far had he gotten
with your case?

Mr. Henderson, uh,

discovered that my dear,
devoted husband

keeps a penthouse apartment
at Canterbury Way,

under the name of Markel.

Canterbury.

Mr. Mannix,

what I want from you is proof

that my husband is not only
unfaithful, but dishonest

and untrustworthy.

That could put a stockbroker
out of business.

It could also make
a judge more amenable

to a dissolution
of my marriage on,

shall we say,
a more suitable arrangement?

Mm.

Well, uh, it would help

if I knew something about your
husband's habits, Mrs. Forsythe.

There's not much to tell.

He's an early riser
because of the market.

At night...

Well, that's something else
again.

At least every Monday
and Thursday night

from : to midnight.

What happens then?

He plays poker with the boys.

Only the boys
don't know about it.

Going, darling?

Heavy schedule tomorrow,
sweetie.

Does she wait up for you?

Who?

Mrs. Forsythe, darling.

Oh.

Well... does she?

Any complaints?

Uh-uh.

Fun and games is all.

Next week, same time?

I'll be right here.

Mr. Forsythe?

Mr. Markel?

Do I know you?

The name is Mannix.

That doesn't tell me very much.

I'm a private investigator,
employed by your wife.

Oh.

Have I been investigated
very long?

I was hired this afternoon.

Oh, you're very efficient,
Mr. Mannix.

Oh, there was another man
on the job before me.

My wife must be spending a lot
of money to get rid of me.

Well, it takes money
to make money.

Could we discuss this someplace?

Any place you say.

Are you familiar
with the San Tropez?

About a mile west of here?

Perhaps we could have a drink...

...and reach
a gentleman's agreement?

Fine. I'll follow you.

Afraid I'm gonna run out?

Where can you run?

That's true.

You lead a dangerous life,
Mr. Mannix.

Well, he wasn't gunning for me.

It's a lucky thing
you were there, Mr. Mannix.

It wasn't exactly luck.

Mr. Mannix is a private
investigator hired by my wife.

Oh.

Mr. Forsythe,

have you any idea
who'd want to k*ll you?

Well, if my wife is capable

of hiring a private
investigator, she probably...

No. No, she wants you alive...
and squirming.

But I don't have any enemies.

Oh, there are a few people who
may not particularly like me,

but m*rder?

Jonathan never hurt anyone.

I'm afraid my wife
wouldn't agree to that, Susan.

As I told you earlier,
Mr. Forsythe,

I was the second investigator.

The first was a man
named Jerry Henderson.

He was m*rder*d,

and he was working
on a blackmail case, and, uh,

last night,
the blackmailer was m*rder*d.

What connection do I have
with them?

Someone just tried to k*ll you.

Why?

Well, so far,

the only connection
is that you were involved

in one of the cases
Jerry Henderson was working on.

And so far, that seems
to be enough to get you k*lled.

Well, what do you suggest
I do about that, Mr. Mannix?

Uh, for a few days, I guess,

we'd better keep you
out of sight.

What do I do about my wife?

I'll, uh, call her

and give her a plausible story.

She's believe anything... bad.

My apartment's upstairs.

Peggy?

Peggy?!

Oh, I wasn't asleep, Joe. I...

You should have been home
hours ago.

Oh, it's okay.

Toby's spending
the night with...

Oh, I have a houseguest
for a couple of days, Peggy.

Jonathan Forsythe,
my secretary, Peggy Fair.

Mr. Forsythe.

I'll try not to be too much
of a nuisance.

Uh, Peggy, button up the office

for a couple of days,
nobody in or out, huh?

Right, Joe.

The bar and kitchen over there,
and the guest room is

at the top of the stairs on
the left, and I'm in the right.

Maybe I better check
into a hotel.

I hate to impose.

Oh, the room service is
excellent here, Mr. Forsythe.

Thank you.

Speaking of room service,
how about some coffee?

Fine.

Fill me in on what happened.

Well, I was questioning him,

and, uh, suddenly
out of nowhere,

came a car and tried
to run him down.

Just because
he was cheating on his wife?

Yeah, it is a little extreme,
isn't it?

Joe, I have a theory.

Go ahead. I could use one.

Well, all of Jerry's cases--

Extortion, dope,

adultery, loan sharks...

Yeah.

I guess, I did deal him
a pretty sleazy hand.

I think it's a psycho.

Who's doing the k*lling?

Mm-hmm.
Why?

Well, the cases are sleazy,
and the people are sleazy.

It's as if they're being
punished for being sinners.

Or it could be

that somebody is setting it up

so that it would look
like the work of a psycho.

I suppose so.

Someone that found out
about all of Jerry's cases.

What about Forsythe?

Do you think he's safe
to hide here?

Safe as anyplace.

What do you do now?

Well, there's, uh,

always one way
to flush out a k*ller.

Uh, set a trap.

What's the bait?

Me.

Anything happen?

Well, I spent the day
putting out the word

that I was taking over
Jerry's cases.

Now we'll just have to wait
till it sinks in.

How's our guest?

He's fine.

Oh, Lieutenant Ives called.
When?

Mm, about :.

I told him, Joe.

Told him?

I told him
you were setting yourself up

in a sh**ting gallery.

What did he say?

Nothing printable.

Joe, I didn't sleep a wink.

I mean, advertising
for a b*llet like that.

Stop worrying, Peggy.
I'll make Medicare.

Look, at :, I want you to put
a shroud on that typewriter

and go home to Toby, huh?

I'll take care of Forsythe.

I could stay the night, Joe.

I can't afford the overtime.

We'll somebody should be here.

Peggy, anybody that can afford
to pay the rent

on two establishments ought
to be smart enough

not to open the door
to strangers.

Now, I'll tell him.

What if they sh**t their way in?

That's exactly why
I don't want you here.

Now, third case.

Anton Wojeska.

Daughter OD'd,

owns a short-order place
on South Third.

Mr. Wojeska?

Jenny, take care
of the customer.

I'm not hungry. Thank you.

My name is Mannix.

You called me
a couple of weeks ago,

and I recommended a private
investigator named Henderson.

Yes, so I hired him.

Something's wrong?

Can we talk?

In the back.

Sit down.

Thank you.

You, uh, want some,
uh, cream, sugar?

Uh, black is fine.

How, uh, how come I don't
hear from Henderson

a whole week already.

Because he's dead.

A b*mb in his car.

It was in all the papers.

Papers?

I don't read so good.

My kid, she...
used to read to me.

She went to school ... she...
she read lots of books.

A b*mb?

He was a pretty nice fellow.

Mmm.

What am I gonna do now?

Would you like me
to take over the case?

Well, on the telephone,
you told me

that you're too busy, you know.

Not anymore.

But I don't pay you no more
than I pay him, $..

That's all I got in the bank.

Special rate this week,
uh, no charge.

No, no. Just, I don't want
no favors. No favors.

$..

You get me the fella
who k*lled my daughter.

We'll, uh, discuss
the fee later.

What did Henderson say to you
the last time you saw him?

Uh, did he have a lead?

No. He talked
with my kid's friends

at the high school,
St. Ignatius.

Came up empty?

Same, like the cops.

Do you, uh, do you have
a picture of your daughter?

Sure.

Here. It's from two years ago.

She was very pretty.

Mmm.

Do you mind if I borrow this?

I want the fella
that k*lled her.

dr*gs k*lled your daughter.

You find him for me.

I'll give him to the police
when I'm through.

Mr. Wojeska...

Five minutes, that's all.

I guarantee he don't sell
no dr*gs to no more kids, never.

Mr. Wojeska,
now you listen to me.

You let the law punish him.

Now, they don't like
pushers either.

You got a kid?

No.

Okay.

You ever go in a hospital...

and the doctor say,
"Is this your kid?"

And you don't even
recognize her?

Her whole face is blue,

and she's lying there,
just waiting to die.

That ever happen to you?

No.

Okay.

Five minutes.

I'm sorry.

I can't give him to you.

You turn your back on Wojeska?!

I'm not turning my back on you,
Mr. Wojeska.

I'm gonna talk to somebody

who might know the man
who hooked your daughter.

Hello, Mannix.

B.J.

Drink?

Talk.

Pick a subject.

She's the subject.

Pretty.

How old?

when she d*ed...
from an overdose.

Kids.

I want the name of the pusher
who sold her the stuff.

Friend of yours
came in one night,

Jerry Henderson,

asked the same thing.

What did you say?

I said I never answer
stupid questions.

Is that a fact?

You know me, Joe, I'm ethical.

Down in the sewer.

Joe, we both work the sewer.

Except I'm trying to clean up
the stink a little, B.J.

Joe, money ain't got no odor.

The pusher I'm looking for

worked the high school
on the east side.

Very educational.

You handle any
of that action, B.J.?

I wholesale, Joe,
I don't deal to kids.

I want the name of that pusher.

No dice.

Henderson asked...

I'm demanding.

Joe, be reasonable.

Finger a guy in this trade,

they get very annoyed,
nervous, you know?

They stop trusting you.

B.J.?

I know, Joe.

I owe you.

I saved that lousy skin
of yours once.

You'd be in a box
out at potter's field.

Nobody would have claimed you.

That's a fact.

Pay up, B.J.

The note is due.

But a small-time pusher--

Why, Joe?

What's it to you
some kid overdoses?

She ain't yours.

Isn't she?

I pay up, we're even?

I don't owe you no more?

The account is square.

Bryland,

at the Regal Apartments,

Johnny Cleaver.

Behind you, Wojeska.

I thought I lost you.

Go home.

I can help you.

I don't need any help.

I stay... with you.

You find the man yourself.

Wait!

Two months I ain't slept.

I don't eat nothing.

I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm like crazy.

Wojeska, you've gotta trust me.

Now, please, go home.

Okay, okay.

But you call me
the minute you find him,

no matter if it's day or night
or night or day.

Okay?

I'll call.

Marie.

That was my kid's name.

You okay?

I have felt better.

What were you doing here, Joe?

Well, I was paying a call
on a pusher,

name of Johnny Cleaver.

That was him on the floor.

I know. We've had him in
several times.

Well, I was downstairs,

I heard what sounded like
a fight and then a sh*t.

Who belted you?

I got no idea.

I, uh, came in,

thought he'd gone out
the window,

but he was still in the room.

He snuck up behind me.

Lieutenant...

Everything, Charlie.

Joe, what...

why is it that-that
every time we meet,

a body leaves the room?

Dan, I've got this feeling
you're on a fishing expedition.

Well, the captain's jumping
all over me.

I told you about the cases
Jerry was on.

But there might be a connection.

Might be?

Jerry Henderson is blown up,

Gypso, the filmmaker,
is drowned,

uh, an attempt on the life
of another client,

and this character is m*rder*d.

And that's what bugs me.

I keep looking for a nice,
simple, plain motive,

but the whole setup looks
like the work of a psycho.

Yeah, that's what Peggy said.

What?

Psycho did it.

You all right?

Yeah, I'm... I'm fine, Dan.

Well, if it was a psycho,

then it's sin
that he's punishing.

Yeah, but he k*lled Jerry, too,

which means he's after
anybody that helps the sinner.

There's a message
in there for you, Joe.

Yeah, I think I got
part of it tonight.

Peggy, you are a jewel.

I just may try
to steal you from Mannix.

Uh-uh.
Peggy?

Up here!

He doesn't know how lucky he is.

Sure he does-
I tell him all the time.

Everything all right?

I was about to ask you
the same thing.

Well, the only encouraging thing
about today is that, uh,

no one ended up dead.

Have you eaten yet?
Just a little coffee.

Joe, I'm a stockbroker.

When you deal with numbers,
you have to think logically.

And fast.

The way I see it,
the answer is that these crimes

are being committed

by an illogical mind.

Well, so far
the psychopath theory

has invaded my secretary, the
police force and high finance.

But you're fighting it?

I'm almost ready
to join the crowd.

He'll fight it
to the bitter end.

Well, I do have
one more base to touch.

What's that?

Jerry's fourth case.

He was working
for a Mrs. Fredericks

whose husband's being
pressured by a loan shark.

I'm so worried, I can't sleep.

Hm. I don't think
I should be talking to you.

The last man who tried
to help my husband got m*rder*d.

Next time it could be Harry.

Well, he won't be hurt,
Mrs. Fredericks.

Well, that's not
what those men said.

Which men?

They came at night, two of them.

They said that if he didn't pay,
they'd do something terrible.

Did your husband know them?

I don't know.

He didn't tell me.

But he was frightened.

I know he was frightened.

Where can I find him,
Mrs. Fredericks?

You sure nothing
will happen to him?

I'll do everything I can.

I told him gambling
would get him in trouble.

I told him,
but he wouldn't listen to me.

He never listens to me.

Mrs. Fredericks, where is he?

Well, maybe he'll listen to you.

He's at the Santa Monica pier,
the fish-and-tackle shop.

Harry Fredericks?

Mm.

Thank you.

There you are, sweetie.

Mr. Fredericks?
Yeah.

My wife, right?
She told you where to find me.

She's worried.

Broads-- all they ever do
is worry.

You could be
in big trouble, Harry,

enough to cost you your life.

Hey, look,
I don't owe a dime to nobody.

It's the truth.

I hit big yesterday
on the races.

Cleaned up all my markers...
and I got $ clear.

Hey, uh,

the missus don't have
to know, does she?

Not unless you tell her.

I look like some kind of jerk?

How about the name of the guy
handles your action?

Pick one.

There's, uh, Phil...

Carl... Pauley...

Uh, there's a guy
calls himself Reno,

even though he
works out of Vegas.

Can you give me
a lead on the muscle?

Your wife said they
paid you a visit, Harry.

From out of town.

But I'm clean.

Why would they want
to k*ll me now?

Because you're on a list.

I told you, I paid up!

I'm off the list!

By

Joe, are you sure
you're all right?

Yeah, I'm fine.
Stop worrying, Peggy.

Is Forsythe there?

He's upstairs reading.

Good. Now, listen,
I'm gonna go back

and check on the one item
I may have overlooked.

What item?
His girlfriend.

Why, Joe? I mean, why
would she try to k*ll Forsythe?

She wouldn't;
maybe she's got a boyfriend.

Come in!

Put it in the kitchen.

Well...

you're not the delivery boy.

This is Jonathan
Forsythe's apartment?

The man who leases
the apartment is named Markel.

M-A-R-K-E-L.

And your name?

If that's enough to get you out,
it's Pauline Waverly.

Ah. That would be, uh,

P.W.

This is Jonathan
Forsythe's briefcase,

isn't it?

I know.
You're a detective?

Private.
Thrilling.

All right, it's Jonathan's
apartment and his briefcase.

Satisfied?

Not exactly.

Exactly what would
satisfy you, Mr...

Mannix.
Mr. Mannix?

The answer to a question.

Now, who'd be interested
in k*lling Jonathan Forsythe?

I was wrong.

You aren't a detective;
you're a stand-up comic.

But Forsythe isn't laughing.

Somebody tried
to k*ll him yesterday.

Mannix...

are you trying to scare me
out of this towel?

You can check with Jonathan,
if you'd like.

He's at my place.

The number is -.

Maybe I'll do that.

Then again, maybe I won't.

Jonathan doesn't like
unexpected telephone calls.

Or girls who live alone.

Oh... you've met Susan.

I've met Susan.

Well, Jonathan's very generous.

It's really perfectly normal.

Perfectly.

I mean, why be old-fashioned?

I mean, if you've
got enough money...

And fortitude, baby.

Fortitude.

Mannix.

Joe, are you coming back
to the office soon?

Yeah, I'm on my way now.

Something wrong?

No, nothing.

I just wondered.

Okay, well, sit tight, Peggy.

I think I've come up with
the missing piece of the puzzle.

I'll be back in about,
uh, ten minutes.

You did that very well, honey.

Ten minutes.

Just enough time
to take care of Forsythe.

Peggy?

Afternoon, Joe.

Where's Peggy?

Oh, she's taking a nap.

Freeze, Mannix.

Sorry, Joe.
What did you do to her?

Take a look for yourself.

Just a touch of chloroform.

She'll wake up groggy
but feeling fine.

What happens now?

I've grown fond of you, Joe.

It distresses me
to have you k*lled.

How do you explain my death
here in the apartment?

I don't.
Story goes like this:

Kenneth chloroformed Peggy.

You and I were kidnapped.

Mmm.

And I was k*lled heroically
saving your life?

For which I shall be
eternally grateful.

And Peggy?

Peggy?

I need her to testify
that I was here.

I mean, she tried
to warn me about Kenneth.

She really did.

Kenneth does
the k*lling for you?

I wanted it to all look
like the work of a psychopath.

I don't think
the world's going to miss, uh,

Gypso Martin or a small-time
dope pusher, do you?

Why Jerry Henderson?

He was very conscientious, Joe.

Unfortunately, he found out
about all four girls.

Four?

I only got up to Pauline.

Is that what
made you suspicious?

No. I never saw a man

with two identical suitcases
without a reason.

I figured one of them
must have had more in it

than a change of underwear.

Mm. Imagine
such an intricate scheme

being upset
by such a minor detail.

What's in them? Money?

Which the girls deliver
from Las Vegas, Miami, New York.

Hot money, which you cool off
through your brokerage firm.

It's a living.
All right, let's go.

He's the man with the g*n, Joe.

Joe?

Up here.

All right, let's go.

I have the right
to call an attorney.

Make sure
it's a plausible story.

Take him downtown.

Well, you sure took
your own sweet time, Dan.

You said to hold up till you
were sure Peggy was all right.

I said a couple of yards,
not San Diego.

Well, next time,
uh, spell it out, Joe.

Peggy?

Peggy?

Come on, wake up.

Oh, my head.

It's chloroform.

What?
Chloroform.

Joe...

Take it easy.

Joe, there was a man with a g*n.
He was after Forsythe.

Relax.

Well, is he all right?

Forsythe? He's fine.

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure.

The police came, and, uh,
they're looking after him now.

I'm so glad.