04x26 - Dossier on a Diplomat

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Next: The Fugitive, in color.

Yes?

Good morning, Dr. Kimble.

- Do you know him?
- I know him.

I'd Like to see Ambassador Unawa,
please.

I am he, sir.

Lieutenant Gerard.

I'm here for my prisoner.

Your prisoner, Lieutenant?
Surely not.

A guest of the embassy, yes,
but no man's prisoner.

This man is a convicted m*rder*r,
a fugitive from justice,

and I hold a warrant for his arrest.

Are you refusing to honor that?

I am.

I have offered Dr. Kimble sanctuary
here, and he has accepted.

I will honor that responsibility
and nothing else.

Then I'm afraid, Mr. Ambassador,
you Leave me no choice.

- I shall have to file charges.
- As you will.

However, it would be a waste
of your good time

and the taxpayers' money.

As you know,
I do enjoy diplomatic immunity.

He doesn't.

Starring David Janssen
as Dr. Richard Kimble.

An innocent victim of blind justice,

falsely convicted
for the m*rder of his wife,

reprieved by fate
when a train wreck freed him

en route to the death house.

Freed him to hide
in lonely desperation,

to change his identity,
to toil at many jobs.

Freed him to search
for a one-armed man

he saw leave
the scene of the crime.

Freed him to run
before the relentless pursuit

of the police lieutenant
obsessed with his capture.

The guest stars in tonight's story:

Ivan Dixon,

Diana Sands,

and special guest star
Diana Hyland.

Also starring Barry Morse
as Lieutenant Philip Gerard.

Mr. Hobart, please.

Mr. Hobart isn't in.

Might l ask who's calling?

Do you know when he'll be back?

Not until tomorrow. Any message?

- I see. What time tomorrow?
WOMAN: Early tomorrow.

No, I'll try him then. Thank you.
No message.

A fugitive,
if he is innocent, is sustained by hope.

it is more necessary to him
than food or shelter.

But, paradoxically,
the greater the promise of that hope,

the more agonizing it becomes.

- Take it easy.
- I am taking it easy.

A phenomenon Washington apparently
finds more diverting than I do.

He was crossing the street.
Just kind of keeled over in front of me.

- You sure you're all right?
- Oh, yes, quite.

Except for a severe case
of punctured dignity.

Ha, ha. Usually not fatal.

Ahh, I'm afraid I simply slipped
and lost my balance.

- I mean, I never touched him.
- I am sorry

if I caused you any inconvenience.

- Can I take you somewhere?
- No, no, no. It's just a few blocks.

Not enough to turn over your meter.

However, if you, sir,
are going that way,

I would not say no
to the loan of your arm.

- Coming through.
- Well, I--

- What's the beef?
- He fell down right in front of me.

- I never touched him.
- And that's it?

This man seems to have a gift
for making a concise summary.

Yes, officer, I'm afraid that's it.

Okay, people, Let’s break it up.

So you see, Mr. Farrell,
to an outsider Like myself,

it's incredible how far one can walk

and still be surrounded
by the trappings of civilization.

And I am accustomed to walking,
you understand.

You see, in my country,

many of the roads are as yet
unsuitable for automotive travel.

Mr. Ambassador, you were warned
about going out without telling anyone.

- I was warned.
- Very well. Choose your punishment.

Which is it to be:
no dessert or no television?

The decisions an ambassador's
compelled to make.

- What's for dessert?
- Tapioca pudding.

- Whipped cream?
ALISON: Mm-hm.

You may turn off my TV set.

We usually offer a reward
for his safe return, sir.

However, our new prime minister
has hit us with his austerity program.

Perhaps you would accept
a warm handshake

and a picture postcard
of the Potomac?

No Tapioca pudding?

This, Mr. Farrell,
is my personal secretary,

Miss Alison Priestley,

without whom, I suspect,
Life would be greatly simplified.

Would you tell Mrs. Unawa
that I have returned, please?

Ah, the oblique dismissal.

When he's alone,
he usually says, ''Scat.''

Oh, and, Alison, tell cook
we are having a guest for dinner.

Mr. Farrell,
I shouldn’t worry if I were you.

His constituents outlawed cannibalism
in the Last election.

Well, I wanna be around
when the missus asks about that.

I bet your explanation’s a lulu.

Uh, Mr. Ambassador,
I wanna thank you

- for the invitation to dinner, but--
- Good. We'll wait in the study.

Well, I'm sorry. I was trying to say
I can't stay for dinner.

- You have a previous engagement?
- Well, no, but--

Three interpretations
suggest themselves:

either you have just arrived
in Washington,

or you are about to depart,

or that suitcase contains
the wares of a salesman.

- Just arrived.
- Ah.

And you have not yet found
suitable lodgings. Splendid.

Would you believe it?
We have rooms here.

- A good many of them unoccupied.
- You don't even know me.

Did you know me
when you plucked me from the gutter?

Well, no, but a thank-you
would’ve covered that.

Mr. Farrell, to deal with a country
such as yours is an awesome task,

and if I am to succeed,

it is imperative that I acquire
an understanding of your people,

of you, Mr. Farrell.

So, you see,
my invitation is not entirely unselfish.

You can be of value to me.

So it is settled.

- Agreed?
- What is settled?

Oh, my dear, this is Mr. Farrell,

whom I have just persuaded
to, uh, be a guest of the embassy.

Mr. Farrell, my wife, Mrs. Unawa.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

You ran into a door?

Into something.

I'm afraid I rather ungracefully
slipped and fell,

avoiding what I believed to be
a runaway taxicab.

This man, Mr. Farrell,
my illustrious husband,

has survived civil w*r, revolution,
and attempted assassination.

Until this morning,
his only disfiguration

was a -inch appendix scar.

Well, obviously, my dear,
the streets of Washington

are more dangerous
than the jungles of my homeland.

We are what the world calls
an emerging nation, Mr. Farrell,

but sometimes I wonder
what exactly we are emerging into.

Now I'll show you to your room,
get you settled.

As for you, there are some Letters
for you to answer.

Oh, yes, and a conference at .
Thank you, dear.

Behind every great man...

Would you follow me?
It's right upstairs.

DAVALA:
We have a very small staff, Mr. Farrell,

but I'm sure we can make your stay
comfortable.

Were you present when my husband
sustained his injury?

Well, I didn't see him slip.

Otherwise, did it seem
as he described it?

I think so.

He didn't collapse?

Collapse?

And afterwards,
he seemed all right to you?

Forgive me.
I have my reasons for asking.

Well, he was a little dazed,

but otherwise he seemed
to function normally.

I wonder, could you...?

You didn't say what brought you
to Washington, Mr. Farrell.

- A legal matter.
- Excuse my prying.

It would never occur to my husband
to make such inquiries.

Therefore it must occur to me.
You understand?

- Of course.
- But not really.

So I will tell you why.

It is my husband's nature
to trust people, all people.

But then my husband is a man

with a very strong commitment
to civilization.

I'm afraid I do not always share
his complete faith.

If you need anything,
just ring the bell.

Dinner is at .

The ambassador's robe suits you.

Oh, yes. ''See to our guest's needs,''
he said.

So I thought I'd begin with coffee.
Black?

Yeah, black.

Thank you.

Now, what's a nice girl Like me
doing in a palace Like this, right?

Now that you mention it.

Well, you might say
that I'm a Peace Corps dropout.

There I was, out in the bush,

teaching secretarial skills
to some of the locals,

when I got this marvelous offer
from the ambassador to join his staff.

So here I am.

You know something, Charlie?
I'm gonna tell you

a little bit more about myself
because you seem so interested.

First of all, I take the fastest shorthand
this side of the Chesapeake,

do my nails on my own time,
and I'm not shopping for a husband.

You tell me something.

Which of the above statements
is false?

That's Her Ladyship calling,

and the Long and the short of it
is she wants me.

I know what you're thinking, Charlie.

''If only there were some way
I could draw her out of her shell.''

Miss Priestley?

When we were out
shopping yesterday,

didn't I notice, just around the corner,
a bookstore?

- McHenry's.
- Yes, I think that was the name.

Uh, there's a paperback book I want.

Nonfiction, I believe.
I'd Like you to go out and buy it for me.

- Surely.
- The name of the author and the title.

Mr. Farrell.

Remarkably easy reading.

Of course,
I skimmed through most of it.

All but one chapter.

- And?
- My husband knows nothing of this,

which is the way
I prefer things to stand.

We will go down to dinner.
Now, at some point,

you will volunteer the information
that something has arisen

which necessitates
your immediate departure.

Much as it pains you,

you will have to forego the
ambassador's handsome hospitality.

Have I made myself clear,
Dr. Kimble?

Perfectly clear.

Now you will see, Mr. Farrell,

whether I was right
to choose the tapioca pudding.

Do you play chess, Mr. Farrell?

I thought perhaps Later on
we might have a game.

Well, I'd Like that, Mr. Ambassador,
but I'm afraid I'll be Leaving shortly.

Leaving, Mr. Farrell?

Yes. I had a telephone call
from a business associate.

- I have some things to attend to.
- Oh.

You mean Miss Priestley
didn't give you the message?

Message?

Yes, your associate called back.

You must've been in the shower
at the time.

He said to tell you that the matter
has been attended to.

So you are welcome to stay on here
for as Long as it may suit you.

Shall we all take coffee and brandy
in the study?

You two go on.

Mrs. Unawa and I have
a small domestic matter to discuss.

We'll join you directly.

How does it feel to be referred to
as a small domestic matter?

Among my various
attractive attributes,

I neglected to mention
I have a big mouth.

Who told you?

- Does it matter?
- Was it he?

Did he come running to you?

My dear,
I'm sure you believed yourself

to be acting in my own best interests,
however--

And in the interest of the embassy,
of our nation, of your mission here.

- We are harboring a fugitive.
- I am sheltering a friend.

In this case,
it is one and the same thing.

If it were known...

And at a time when we are practically
in the streets begging for allies.

- Davala, you cannot ask that I put--
- I should not have to.

You who have fought with your body
and your brain for independence,

for freedom,
for the very Laws which this man,

this m*rder*r,
would now have you break.

We're struggling to stand with dignity
alongside other nations.

In our constitution, we stress the Law,
domestic and international.

We cannot, we must not,
be held up as hypocrites.

My dear, were you ever to address
the U.N. General Assembly,

we would be inundated
with foreign aid.

- Then you will?
- No, my Love, I will not.

I don't have to tell you
how the world sees us.

Like a child.

They expect mistakes from us,
blunders,

the diplomatic gaucheries
of amateur statesmen.

You will not be serving
your country well

by providing them
with just such an example

of our lack of sophistication.

That's enough, Davala.

Can a man serve his country

who does not even serve
his own conscience?

Bought out their entire stock.
I just Love books.

You spoke to the ambassador.

Well, there's nothing unusual
about that.

Hardly a day goes by
that we don't speak to each other.

- Why?
- Why'd I tell him?

I'm not sure.

But if you figure it out,
you'll Let me know.

Mrs. Unawa begs to be excused.
A mild headache.

- Scat?
- Scat.

My room's at the end of the hall.
Bring cookies.

What is interesting to me

is the absolute Lack
of a sympathetic bias.

Nowhere does he even hint
at the possibility

that these men were innocent,

but only that, in his opinion,
they were unjustly tried.

I didn't k*ll my wife.

I did not suppose you had.

I have seen a Lot of m*rder in my Life,
Dr. Kimble, and a Lot of murderers.

I, myself, was once a hunted fugitive

with a price on my head,
marked for execution.

Consequently, I sort of think
of myself as an expert.

And my opinion is that
you are no more guilty than I was.

You have, uh, talked to this man,
this Mr. Hobart?

- In the morning.
- Excellent.

Then we do have time
for a game of chess.

You do play, Dr. Kimble?

Yes, I play.

Oh, Waiter.

Bring the car around, will you?

- Are you sure it'll be all right?
- Quite, Mr. Farrell.

Mr. Hobart's office
is right on my way.

Operator, give me the police.

You want me to handle your appeal
and petition for a new trial, right?

I should warn you, I don't have
any money, but your book said that I--

What I said I meant.
I'm not in this for the money.

At Least not in your case.

I suppose I'm something of
a throwback in this age of expediency.

''Justice'' is one word
I'm still not embarrassed to use.

Then there is a chance?

- We've got some work to do.
- What does that mean? In your book--

My book said you should never have
been convicted on the case

the prosecution brought
into that courtroom.

It was all circumstantial.

Could’ve been att*cked
in a hundred different ways.

Then there is a chance?

If we get a new trial,
I'm sure I can get you off.

- That's good to hear.
- Only partly good.

Maybe that ''if'' sipped by you.

The problem will be
getting that new trial.

- How big a problem?
- Not too bad, but it'll take time.

You've already had one appeal
turned down.

That was predicated
on the usual grounds:

judicial error, venue,
even the press treatment.

I'm afraid we'll have to search
elsewhere.

Unfortunately, the Stafford police
knew their business.

All their pre-trial procedure

met even the requirements
of the recent Supreme Court rulings.

- Where does that Leave us?
- Looking for a new piece of evidence.

You can forget it.
There isn't any new evidence.

Maybe not anything
that'll prove your innocence per se,

but they have to prove your guilt.

All I need is something
to get your case retried.

Then what?

Oh, a witness that wasn't called,
a testimony that was never elicited,

a deposition that should’ve been taken
and wasn't. Anything Like that.

Doesn't necessarily
have to be earthshaking.

Just enough to Let the appellate court
say that maybe, just maybe,

the jury could’ve found differently.

- Don't worry. I can come up with that.
- How?

I've got two investigators packing
to go to Indiana right now.

Well, there...? There is hope?

Well, of course there is,
or I wouldn’t be going to all this trouble.

I know I can come up with something,
but I can't tell how Long it'll take.

I'd guess a maximum
of two months.

- Two months? I don't see how I can--
- Relax.

You're at the embassy, right?
By international Law, my friend,

that embassy
is not part of the United States.

It's foreign soil.

And you, dear client,
for so Long as you remain there,

are out of the jurisdiction
of the American police.

I don't see how I can just move in.

From my point of view,
I'm afraid I must insist on it.

What does that mean?

I mean, as an attorney,
I'm an officer of the court.

I can't represent
a criminal on the run.

I'm bending a few Legal
and personal ethics right now,

in fact, just talking to you here.

But as Long as you're under
the Legal protection

of another duly
constituted government,

I'm not assisting and evading
any federal or state Laws,

and I can represent you.

I don't see how
I can just ask the ambassador

for board and room for two months.

So he tricks up
some kind of job for you:

houseboy, janitor, pearl diver.
What do you care?

For now, you hustle back
to that embassy.

We'll meet there from now on.

Once inside, I don't care
if that building’s burning down,

you don't budge.

All right, all right. Hold it right there.

- Come out.
- No, no.

Once he's inside this gate,
he's on embassy property.

That means we can't touch him.

The talk about Washington girls
trying to get themselves a man,

just talk.

Come in.

I'm not intruding, doctor?

No, I was rather expecting you.

I know what it's Like
to infiltrate a combat zone.

At one point in our Lives, my husband
and I were virtually commuters.

I know it will come as no surprise
to you if I tell you

that it was I who phoned the police.

No surprise.

Perhaps you regard
our current positions as a stalemate.

It isn't.

I am determined to be rid of you,
Dr. Kimble, as soon as possible,

and regardless
of any dissenting voices.

- Mrs. Unawa, I--
- No.

Let me finish, please.

The ambassador

is my Life, Dr. Kimble,

and your presence in this house
would assuredly k*ll him.

- You mean his career?
- That first, then him.

Have you been so preoccupied
with your own problems

that you've failed to notice

the very obvious
classical medical symptoms?

He tires easily.
Naps for hours on end.

Suffers dizzy spells.

Has recurring trouble
with his eyesight.

- Need I go on, doctor?
- Brain tumor. How Long?

It was discovered
several months ago.

He doesn't know.
He thinks it's a form of malaria.

I won't Let the doctors tell him.

- I'm sorry. I--
- Every day he Lives,

every day he continues
to serve the cause

to which he has given
his entire being.

You will not deprive him
of that privilege.

Well, how can my presence here,
uh, thr*aten that?

Scandal at the diplomatic Level,
doctor, is sudden death.

Your presence here can do more
than merely wreck a man's career.

It could rewrite the course of history.

I'm not unmoved by your plight,
Dr. Kimble.

I'm simply unable
to accommodate it.

Yes?

Good morning, Dr. Kimble.

- Do you know him?
- I know him.

I'd Like to see Ambassador Unawa,
please.

I am he, sir.

Lieutenant Gerard.

I'm here for my prisoner.

Your prisoner, Lieutenant?
Surely not.

A guest of the embassy, yes,
but no man's prisoner.

This man is a convicted m*rder*r,
a fugitive from justice,

and I hold a warrant for his arrest.

Are you refusing to honor that?

I am.

I have offered Dr. Kimble sanctuary
here, and he has accepted.

I will honor that responsibility
and nothing else.

Then I'm afraid, Mr. Ambassador,
you Leave me no choice.

- I shall have to file charges.
- As you will.

However, it would be a waste
of your good time

and the taxpayers' money.

As you know,
I do enjoy diplomatic immunity.

He doesn't.

Ah, but as my guest,
he is beyond your reach.

The privilege of immunity
and sanctuary

is expressed by many countries,
including yours, sir.

The Local police
have surrounded the embassy.

He's boxed in tight.

Ah, well.
The beds here are very comfortable,

we have a superb cook,
excellent television reception,

and then, of course,
there's always chess.

I'm certain that Dr. Kimble
will manage to while away his hours.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Ambassador,

I'm sure you realize
that there is an extradition treaty

between your country
and the United States.

Dr. Kimble.

You will excuse us, my dear.

Have a seat, doctor.

You, uh, spoke with your attorney
this morning?

- Yes.
- It went well?

Well enough.
He estimates that we'll need

at Least a couple of months
to get the information we need.

- Months.
- I know I can't stay here.

I've caused you enough trouble.
I can't ask you to fight the extradition.

Tonight, I'll find a way to get out.

And right into Lieutenant Gerard's
eagerly awaiting arms, huh?

Surely there must be
a less spectacular method

- of committing su1c1de.
- I'm used to it.

Have I ever intimated
that I wished you to Leave?

Has anyone?

Ah, yes, of course, heh.

My wife.

But that, after all, is my concern,
isn't it? And mine alone.

Two months, you say.

But is he optimistic, this Mr. Hobart,
about the outcome?

- That's what counts.
- Seemed to be.

Are you?

Three things have kept me going,
Mr. Ambassador:

to avoid capture,

find the man that k*lled my wife,
and to secure a new trial.

I'll show up in court, all right.

Even though it was in a court
that you were unjustly adjudged guilty?

Yes.

Such unshakable faith
speaks well for the American system.

Speaks well for you, Dr. Kimble.

You are familiar with the symptoms
of malaria, doctor?

Yes.

I'm running out of symptoms.

I don't understand.

My wife thinks I have malaria,

and I wish her to continue
in this belief,

but I'm running out of symptoms.

I am a terminal case, doctor.

I have an inoperable brain tumor.

Perhaps you had better
pour the coffee.

It's always been my feeling
that both the patient and the family

should know the truth.

And don't things become awkward,
mawkishly sentimental?

Lots of tears and pity?

At first.

But then they adjust
to the inevitable.

If she knew the truth,
it would make your situation easier.

How?

Well, a wife
can hardly refuse to indulge

her dying husband's every whim,
can she?

Telephone, Charlie.
You can take it on Line .

I'll take it in my room.

All typed
and ready for your signature.

Thank you.

What a mess.

It's a good thing you weren't
entertaining the State Department.

Mr. Hobart?

Yes, this is Richard Kimble.
Has something happened?

Just Letting you know
I'm gonna drop by

with some authorizations
for you to sign.

Fine.
You should know something else.

Lieutenant Gerard was here.
He's talking about extradition.

I was afraid of that, but we can
fight it out for a couple of months.

How did the ambassador handle it?

Uh-huh.

Good.

All right, here's what we do.

You tell Mr. Unawa there's no question
there'll be a Lot of static over this,

but if he'll hang tight,
stall, I don't care,

declare a state of w*r if he has to.
There are two months to be bought,

Kimble, and if he's half as feisty
as you say he is,

Unawa's the man who will buy them.

- I'll Let you know.
- Yeah.

- Oh, Miss Priestley.
ALISON: Yes?

I've been in touch with
the prime minister back home.

I want you to tell the rest of the staff
to pack their things.

We'll be Leaving
the embassy tomorrow.

- Tomorrow?
- Yes.

Call the movers and tell them
to be here tomorrow afternoon.

Does the ambassador know this?

I'm going in to tell him right now.

It's rather short notice,
don't you think?

Perhaps.
But by : tomorrow afternoon,

this building will no Longer
house our legation.

Miss Priestley, I made a request.

Yes, of course you did.

- Who is it?
ALISON: Charlie, I've gotta talk to you.

They're closing the embassy.

Why?

The way I see it,
we're moving to other quarters.

When did this happen?

You mean when did she arrange
for it to happen?

Well, as far as I know, she canceled
the lease effective tomorrow night.

Sorry, Charlie.

''Sorry'' doesn't begin to say it.

I'd Like to see the ambassador.

He evidently fainted.

Afterwards, he felt tired.
He complained of a headache.

And?

I gave him two cc's of meperidine.

That'll keep him sedated
for eight hours.

I talked to his doctor.

The dosage is to be repeated
every eight hours.

So he won't be able to object
to your moving the embassy.

I'm not that devious, doctor.

He fell ill before I had a chance
to tell him.

And why are you moving?

I felt this building
no Longer met our needs.

So we're moving
to temporary quarters

until we can find more
suitable facilities for the embassy.

After the police arrest me,

then you'll decide that these facilities
are suitable enough,

- and then you'll move back. I see.
- Perhaps.

But meanwhile,
this building will no Longer serve

as a legally protected haven

for one whose presence not only
jeopardizes my husband's career,

but, in fact,
endangers the entire relationship

between his country
and the United States.

I don't wanna do that.
I'd Leave here if I could right now.

But the police outside
make that impossible.

- Correct?
- Correct.

So since we are unable to manage
your removal from the embassy,

I am forced to remove the embassy
from you.

I see.

Dr. Kimble.

- I wonder what you must think of me.
- I think you Love him very much.

He knows he's going to die.

He doesn't know that you know.

You could’ve told him.

Well, he thinks he's protecting you.

Let's Let him continue.

Look it over and sign the affidavits.

Any way you Look at it, we've had
a chance to get to know each other

and start things moving.
Odds are we'll get that new trial.

In time.

I spoke to Lieutenant Gerard
as I came in.

You can surrender to him.

Did he agree to keep me
in Washington until the trial?

He's agreed to nothing.
He doesn't have to.

Well, you can't exactly blame him
for not cooperating.

You led him quite a chase.

What you're saying is, then,
that I could be ex*cuted

before you could obtain the stay.
That's what you're saying, is it?

Oh, I don't think
they'd move that fast

But if they did,
you couldn’t do anything to stop them?

Probably not.

If I manage to get out of here,
could you still get me that new trial?

If you Leave this building,
you revert to the status of a fugitive.

I couldn’t give you any help at all.

But you said something about justice
meaning something to you.

It does.

So do the years
I've invested in my career.

Well, I haven't much choice, have I?

From the way they have this place
blocked off,

I'd say you have hours
and no choice at all.

Tomorrow, when the embassy
moves out, the police move in.

I'm gonna miss you, Charlie.

I know it sounds silly,

but I took this job thinking
I could be part of something important.

You know, history in the making,
that kind of nonsense.

- That's not nonsense.
- No?

Well, right now I wish I were back
in the Peace Corps

translating ''sincerely yours''
into Swahili.

I'm out of jokes, Charlie.
What will I do now?

I don't know.

I don't either.

I'll think of something.

There he goes.

You two can take the limousine.

- May I know the meaning of this?
- Mrs. Unawa, I'm Lieutenant Gerard.

I know who you are, Lieutenant.

However, I do not consider that
an explanation.

Do you propose to detain
the ambassador, Lieutenant?

No, not if he is the ambassador.

- Open it.
- Excuse me.

- Thank you.
- Excuse me, ma'am.

The van is loaded.
We're ready to Leave.

- Fine. We'll meet you at the hotel.
- All right.

- Was there anything else, Lieutenant?
- No, not if you're through in there.

My authority says I can enter
at : .

Well, Miss Priestley has instructions
to Lock up at : .

Considering the number of men
you have assembled here,

you should have more than enough
time for a thorough search.

- Where'd they go?
- The ambassador and his wife

- are on their way to the hotel.
- No, I mean the moving van.

- It just pulled out.
- It just what?

Weren't they supposed to go?

Well, no. They were supposed to Leave
a packing case for all these things.

Now what am I gonna do?

They're gone, it's gone,
everybody's gone.

- Kimble's still in there?
- I don't know. I don't think so.

What do you mean,
you don't think so?

He was downstairs
when I went up to get these things,

and when I came down,
he had gone.

Lieutenant, can I have
a couple of cars?

- We gotta head off that van.
- Mac, Arnie, Let’s go.

They pulled the man off the rear exit
to cover the front.

- Then it worked.
- My plans always work.

Almost always.

Gerard will be back any minute.

I was going to make you a lunch,
but we ran out of tapioca.

- That's all right. I hate that.
- Me too.

You better be going.

Yeah.

Charlie.

If you're ever passing
through town...

For Richard Kimble,
a moment of safety ends,

and the long search must continue,

for he knows
the only true sanctuary

lies in the elusive proof
of his innocence.