06x12 - "Lost Sunday"

[bunniefuu]

Hey, Don!

Don!

Hey, Don!

Hey, Don!

Hey, Don!

Hey, Dave, come on,
let's get him down.

Hey, Don.

Come on, put down the g*n, Don.

Hey, Don, old buddy!

It's me and Dave!
Take it easy, Don.

This ain't Vietnam, man;
that's all behind you.

Take it easy, Don.

Now, let's...
let's have the hardware.

Come on.

It's Sunday;
nobody's around.

Okay, come on.

Come on, we'll take you home.

What is this?

Looks like Vic Henshaw.

Guess he fell, huh, Dave?

Yeah, he fell, all right.

But he was sh*t first.

Hey, old buddy.

You really did it this time.

By

Miss Henshaw?

I'm Joe Mannix.

Oh, please come in, Mr. Mannix.
Thank you.

Would you like some coffee?

Uh, no, thank you.
I had breakfast on the plane.

Okay.

It was good of you
to come all the way up here.

Los Angeles is pretty far to go

to hire a private investigator,
Miss Henshaw.

I didn't want a local detective.

Why not?

You read the newspapers?

Yes.

Your brother drove out

to the West Rock gravel plant
on Sunday.

He was climbing around
on one of the rigs and fell.

Coroner's verdict
was accidental death.

Evidently, your brother
had been drinking.

That simply isn't true.

How do you know?
Because...

if he'd had even one drink,

he wouldn't have been able to go
out to the plant or drive a car.

He'd have been lying ill
in the street or in a bar

or wherever he'd had that drink.

And why do you say that?

Ten days ago, Vic went
down to San Francisco.

He didn't tell anyone
he was going,

but it was to see a doctor.

The doctor told Vic
he was a diabetic,

and that if he had any liquor
it would be like taking poison.

Did the company know
about his condition?

Nobody knew.

Vic was afraid
Mr. Wilkerson would fire him.

He owns West Rock.

Is there anybody else,
beside yourself,

that, uh, Vic might have told?

Well, maybe Angie McCall.

She runs a diner near the plant.

Angie and Vic were...

Well, they were very close.

Miss Henshaw...

can you think of anyone who
would want your brother dead?

No.

Vic never had any trouble
in town, or any enemies.

But I know he wasn't drunk,

and I know somebody's lying.

Here's the autopsy
report, Mannix.

You can check it out yourself.

How much, uh, alcohol
did the postmortem show?

Digby says about
two-tenths of one percent.

Now, that ain't a buzz,
that's drunk.

Digby being the coroner.

Right.

Did Vic Henshaw have
a reputation as a drinker?

No, I can't say he did.

But he must have been hitting
the booze pretty good

Sunday morning--
we found a fifth of bourbon

in the back of his car
almost empty.

The coroner, uh, Mr. Digby,

lists the specific cause
of death as a broken neck.

You fall feet, you're
a cinch to break something.

Look, Mannix, I know
the Henshaw girl's upset,

but facts are facts.

Vic fell off that rig, feet,

and he got hung up
on a bulldozer,

and that's all she wrote.

You want some coffee?

Uh, no, thanks.

Did you find the body, Sheriff?

No.

I went fishing Sunday morning.

Couple of my deputies
brought Vic in.

Pete LeMaster. Dave Benedict.

Miss Henshaw says she told you

her brother was a diabetic
and couldn't drink.

"Couldn't” ain't
the same as "didn't.”

I checked this all out
with my deputies, Mannix.

There was nobody else
out there at the plant Sunday

when Vic went off that rig.

The fall and the booze,
that's what k*lled him.

You lose something, mister?

Has somebody been using this
place for a sh**ting gallery?

What?

These were fired
from an Army M.

What's it to you, mister?

I'm a friend
of Vic Henshaw's sister.

My name is Mannix.

I'm Angelo Rodez.

Foreman.

Them shells don't mean nothing.

One of the boys was just
scaring off crows, that's all.

Yeah, I imagine a few crows
could wrack up this plant.

Tell me, uh, do you have
any idea just how Vic fell?

Fell off that plank.

Were you here?
No.

The plant is closed on Sunday.

I'd like to take
a look around up there.

There ain't nobody allowed
up there without permission.

How do I get that?

That comes directly
from Mr. Wilkerson.

Okay.

What did you say your name was?

Mannix.

Stay put.

Hey, you!
Come down from there!

Hey, Tony!

Stop that wise guy
and turn him back!

Okay, buddy,
that's as far as you go.

Follow me.

Why?

You got something to hide?

Come on.

Look, Mannix,
I don't know what you're after,

but let me tell you one thing--

Stay away from this plant.

Thank you.

Bye now.

Eggs aren't getting any hotter.

Did you, uh,
hear anything unusual Sunday?

Like what?

g*nf*re?

Where did you get those?

The plant, the base of the tower
near where Vic fell.

Oh, God.

What happened Sunday, Angie?

Vic was sitting here.

I was fixing him a burger.

All of a sudden,
we heard these sh*ts.

Vic got up and said...

"He-He's out there.

He's out there again
with that g*n.”

You knew who he meant?

Don Wilkerson.

He was always going down
to the plant on Sundays

with that r*fle
he brought home from Vietnam.

He'd sit out there on that tower

and sh**t at nothing at all--
ghosts maybe.

Every time it happened,
Vic would have to go

down to the plant,
take the g*n away.

He'd done it five, six times,
Vic said.

Did you tell the sheriff?

You know
who Don Wilkerson's father is?

He owns the gravel plant,
doesn't he?

He owns this county,
and I make my living here.

Angie, uh...
suppose Vic didn't fall.

Suppose he was sh*t, m*rder*d.

Look, Mister...

I done my crying
for Vic and for me.

I'm, uh, working
for Joyce Henshaw.

I'm a private investigator.

And...

she doesn't believe
that Vic's death

was like they said, an accident?

No.

And you think
Don Wilkerson sh*t him

from out there on the tower?

Could be.

Does Joyce know that?

Well, if she does,
she didn't hear it from me.

Well, you'd better tell her,
Mister, and fast.

Why?

Because she's getting hitched
to Don, that's why.

But that's crazy.

Why should Don
have sh*t my brother?

Well, he was there on Sunday
on the tower with an M.

Didn't Angie McCall tell you

Don and I are going
to be married?

Yes, she did.

Did Vic object?

He didn't object.

He just wanted me
to wait until...

Until what?

Until Don was better.

And how about Don?

Did he resent Vic's attitude?

A little, I guess, but he
wouldn't k*ll Vic because of it.

He hated k*lling, he hated w*r,
he hated weapons.

Then why take an M
out to the plant?

Why fire it?
At the gravel!

Yeah, maybe, maybe.

All right, let's suppose
Don does hate weapons.

Let's suppose that this hatred
builds up in him,

and when it does,
the only release he has

is in the thing he hates--
a g*n.

Now, do you think that could
possibly be what happens to him?

It could be.

All right,
now let's say that Sunday,

this feeling begins
to build up in him again.

He goes up to the plant,
he starts sh**ting,

and he goes
into kind of a trance.

He thinks he's back in Vietnam,
in the bush.

Vic walks up the ramp,
he shouts.

All Don hears is a voice,
a voice in a nightmare.

He spins and he fires.

No!

He couldn't have.

Not in a normal state,

but, Joyce, he wasn't
in a normal state.

Don couldn't have been there.

He would have said something.

Have you talked
to him since Sunday?

No, he's been ill.

All right, let's go.

Where?

I think it's about time
somebody asked Don Wilkerson

what he was doing
on Sunday afternoon.

Don.

Are you all right?

Yeah, the doctor said to stay
in bed for a few days.

You okay?

Yes, just fine.

This is Mr. Mannix,
a private detective.

He wants to talk to you.

About what?

Vic Henshaw's accident.

Don, did you take your g*n out
to the plant Sunday?

No.

Where were you on Sunday?

About what time?

Oh, say, uh, between : noon
and : p.m.

I was here with my dad
watching the football game.

Yeah, what game was that?

The ers.
Would you like the score?

We sat through
to the final whistle together.

Joyce, what's this all about?

I asked Mr. Mannix to find out
how Vic really d*ed.

Why?

They said Vic was drunk.

I... didn't believe it.

Mannix found three empty shells

out of that old M of yours
at the plant.

Oh... and you thought that...

I-I didn't know what to think.

That's why she hired me.

Don has been out at the plant
on Sunday before with his r*fle,

and he has fired it,
but not last Sunday.

Those shells must be
from before.

Angie McCall, uh, heard g*nf*re

at the plant Sunday.

Hunters-- it's deer season.

I think you'd better go
back to bed, son.

I'll take care of Joyce,
Mr. Mannix.

Yes, I am feeling kind of rocky.

I'm sorry, honey.

I'm sorry.

Sorry.

Now, we don't need detectives
to solve our problems, Joyce.

I just didn't know what to do.

Well, next time
you come to me, hmm?

I'm the complaint department
in this family.

You promise?

Yes.

Good.

Now, I think
you'd better tell Mr. Mannix

that we don't need
his services any longer.

You were-- you were wrong,
weren't you?

Not if Don was lying
about where he was Sunday.

Don wouldn't lie.

I've got three empty shells,

I've got a witness
that heard g*nf*re,

and I've got a diabetic

who supposedly put away
a bottle of liquor.

If Don's lying, I'm lying.

That would keep it
in the family, wouldn't it?

Anybody home?

Be with you.

Mr. Digby?

That's me.
My name is Mannix.

What can I do for you?

I'd like a little information
about Vic Henshaw's autopsy.

What information you after?

Who did the postmortem?

I did.

Where?

Right here.

Did ballistics check the b*ll*ts
you took out of the body?

What is this, Halloween?

Who told you
Vic Henshaw was sh*t?

These are from an M
that, uh, Don Wilkerson owns.

I found them out at the plant
yesterday.

Look, I filed my report.

There was nothing in Vic
Henshaw's body but broken bones.

And two-tenths of one percent
alcohol?

Yeah, that's right.

Digby, Vic Henshaw's a diabetic,

and I've got witnesses that'll
testify to that in court.

What are you after, Mannix?

I told you... the slugs
that k*lled Vic Henshaw.

Can you prove he was sh*t?

No, but you can, Digby.

Well, how?

Exhume the body.

Uh, get out of here, Mannix.

I can get a judicial order
to have the grave opened.

Not by any judge in this county,
you can't.

Well, I'll just have
to get an authorization

from Vic Henshaw's sister.

And you know,
there's not a judge around

that's gonna turn that down.

Problem, Officer?

This your car?

That's right.

Okay, let's have your license.

Dave, he give you any trouble?

You frisk him yet?

Not yet.

Okay, hands on the trunk,
Mister.

This a pinch?

It ain't a wedding, pal.

What's the charge?

Hit and run.

Went by me doing almost .

Almost took off the whole side
of the car.

How's Gordon?

Busted arm.

Who's Gordon?

That's the fellow
you knocked down

at the crosswalk
at Fifth and Elm.

So I knocked Gordon down and |,

uh, smashed in the side
of your car.

If that's the case, how come
there's no damage on my car?

There's damage, pal.

$..

Comb... wallet.

The, uh, sheriff know
you're booking me?

Wristwatch.

What about my phone call?

Where's your dime?

Dress him.

Hey, Sweeney.

Fish on the line.

Well, what do you know?

A city boy.

Hey, send for the hairdresser.

We got us a city slicker.

What'd you get busted for?

Snatching purses
from old ladies?

Hanging around the girls' gym
at the high school?

I asked you a question.

Are you deaf?

I heard you.

Looks like I'm gonna have
to educate City Boy.

How'd you like that hot sun
out there, Billy?

You got a beef, Mannix?

What did you think
of them cement bags?

That's good exercise,
ain't it, Billy?

Leave him alone.

Well, City Boy's got something
to say.

You got a college degree, huh?

Well, the one that got educated
today was Billy.

Ain't that right, Billy boy?

I said leave him alone.

You all right?

Yeah.

It's nothing.

Don't backtalk Sweeney.

He used to be a pro, and he'll
ride you into a fight.

That's what they want.

Who are they?

I heard they're fixing it
so you'll leave here in a box.

Watch yourself.

Thanks, Billy.

Billy?

Billy!

Yeah?

I want you
to do something for me.

Shh. They can throw you
in the hole for talking.

I want you to ask
to see your lawyer.

Have him call my office
in Los Angeles.

Joe Mannix.

I've got all the trouble
I can handle.

Get somebody else.

There isn't anybody else.

Shut up, or you'll
get us both k*lled.

That's lesson one, City Boy.

Mannix!

You're not finished.

May I speak to you,
Mr. Benedict?

What do you want, Billy?

Like to see my lawyer today.

Sure.

Billy, your lawyer's here.

He don't look dumb,
does he, Pete?

No, no, looks real bright.

But trying to get a fellow
inmate to sneak out a message--

That's dumb, ain't it, Pete?

Yeah, that's real dumb.

I'm supposed to get a hearing
within hours.

That a fact?
That's a law.

What about Mannix's hearing,
Pete?

Clerk spilled coffee
all over the booking ledger.

Wiped out the date of arrest.

Yeah, but we're gonna
study it out,

determine what the date
ought to be.

Okay, you'll get your hearing
within hours of that.

That's all.

Is there anything else, Dave?

No.

Come on.

What happened, Billy?

They knew, man.

It was a setup.

Looks like they worked you over
pretty good.

I'm sorry, man.

I really tried.

Yeah, I know, Billy.

I-I...

I'm sorry I got you into this.

What's the matter?

Ain't you, uh, hungry today,
City Boy?

No.

You know, you ain't had
a square meal

since you checked
into this hotel.

Looks to me
like you're gonna starve.

Sit down.

Sit down, I said!

Put him in his cell.

What are you gonna do now,
stomp me?

Shh, quiet.

Ah, they like quiet executions
here, huh?

I'm letting you
out of here, man.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Look, these keys fit
the back doors.

Now, all you got to do
is make it

across the yard
and over the fence.

The woods'll cover you
to the county line.

Here, I got a couple of bucks.

When do |, uh...
get sh*t in the back?

Halfway over that fence?

All the guards and the inmates

are out in back
on a work detail.

Is this, uh, the last
part of my education, Sweeney?

Look, man, I got in too deep.

I figured they just wanted

to ride you a little bit,
like Billy,

but I found out
they want to k*ll you.

I want no part of that.

I ain't k*lling nobody.

Who are they?

Benedict and LeMaster.

Why didn't you report this
to the sheriff?

The sheriff may be in on this,
too, for all I know.

Look, that cement truck'||
be pulling

into that yard any minute.

And they're gonna send for you

and make you unload it
in the sun.

And they'll put you in the hole.

And if you don't drop dead
today, you will tomorrow.

Come on, man. Let me have it
right here and go.

Thanks, Sweeney.

Oh, uh, do me a favor, will you?

Yeah?

Tell Billy I'll be back.

Yeah. Hey, man, uh...

By

Wilkerson.
I'm sorry, but...

It's all right...
Call off your dogs.

What?

Those deputies,
Benedict and LeMaster.

The hunt's over.

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

You paid them off
to cover up the truth

about Vic Henshaw's death.

When I started digging around,

they picked me up
on a phony hit-and-run.

Oh, it was a nice frame,
but I broke jail.

So you can
call off your K*llers.

Will you tell my why
I want to have you k*lled?

To stop me from nailing your son
for the m*rder of Vic Henshaw.

Don...

is he right?

Is it true what he's saying?
Don't answer her.

Yeah, it's true, I was at the
plant Sunday...

Shut up, I told you!

Dad, the alibi won't work,

no matter
how much money you pay.

Look, I didn't even
know Vic was there.

If I hit him, it was a stray,

or he walked
into my field of fire...

Why didn't you say that before?

An accident is
not premeditated m*rder.

Well, there were witnesses
who said it wasn't an accident.

Benedict and LeMaster?

Yes.

They were driving by the plant.

They stopped when
they heard sh**ting,

and they saw...

Don deliberately
turn his fire on Vic.

So you made a deal.

They set it up to look
like Don wasn't there.

They cleaned up the shells.

What you found,
they missed, I guess.

Who fixed the coroner?

Pete LeMaster.

Was the sheriff in on it?

I don't know.

How much did you pay?

Half a million.

Damn you and your money!

I love you, son.

You're all I have.

Did you want me to let them
put you in a hospital

for the rest of your life?

Would you want that?

No.

What other choice did I have?

A lawyer could have pleaded
involuntary manslaughter.

No, no, I went out to the plant
with Benedict and LeMaster.

They showed me
exactly how it happened.

Maybe Benedict and LeMaster

didn't show you all of it.

Now, if Vic fell from here,
where were you?

There, on top of that tower.

sh**ting which way?

Oh, at the gravel.

There. There.

I don't know, just around.

Then you could have hit him.

What else do you remember, Don?

Well, not much.
I remember sh**ting.

Then I heard a horn.

I looked down, I saw Dave
Benedict standing by his car,

and Pete LeMaster coming
from the base of that deck.

Coming down those steps?

Find anything?

Yeah, I think so.

Someone else was sh**ting
from this area.

Now, Vic fell from
that walk up there.

There's a b*llet hole in that
plank that eliminates Don.

Are you sure?

There's no way Don
could have made

that b*llet hole
from that angle.

You better get back
down to that shack.

You, too, Don.

Sheriff, call off that
f*ring... Later! Get back!

Stop the f*ring!
Get back in there!

All right, hold your fire.

Mannix!

I think I got him.

Come on! Shut it off!

{mechanical rumbling stops

Mannix!

Throw your g*n out
and come on down!

Sheriff...

what'd it cost
to fake the coroner's report?

What do you mean, fake?

Vic Henshaw wasn't drunk Sunday.

Someone was waiting
right here all morning,

figuring that Don
would show up with his M.

And if he did,
Vic Henshaw would come around

as usual to stop him.

What are you giving us, Mannix?

Someone sh*t Vic Henshaw because
they wanted to frame Don,

and then make
his father pay blackmail.

Wilkerson was paying off--
ask him.

Tom, you gonna swallow
that bunch of lies?

Hold it.

Can you prove that, Mannix?

You come on up here,
Sheriff, I'll prove it.

Stay put.

And no more sh**ting.

Mannix...

I'm coming up.

Mannix?

Show me.

Know anybody that smokes
that brand, Sheriff?

I might.

But those could've been
stashed there anytime.

When Don first noticed

Benedict and LeMaster
here last Sunday,

LeMaster was walking
from the base of this deck.

Okay, I'll check it out.

Now, give me the g*n.

There's also a b*llet hole
in the plank

where Vic Henshaw was sh*t.

There's no way Don could've
sh*t him from that angle.

The g*n, Mannix.

You're asking me to believe

you had nothing to do
with this whole thing, Sheriff?

That's a risk
you'll have to take.

Come on.

There's probably
more evidence up there.

Later, Dave.

Mannix, you got five minutes.

Go on back up there
and find me that evidence.

By

How's that?

Not from an M, is it?

-, I'd say.

Valid autopsy
ought to nail it down,

and the ballistics boys
shouldn't have any trouble

proving Vic Henshaw was sh*t
by one of these and not...

Dave, I wouldn't!

I'll say one thing
for you, Mannix--

You really hang in there.

Who did you reach?
The DA

He'll meet us at the courthouse
with Judge h*tler.

Mr. Mannix, thank you.

My son was in a w*r,

and I guess I was just ready
to believe anything.

Well, Mr. Wilkerson, in a w*r,
even people thousands of miles

from where the fighting is
can, uh, get all mixed up.