04x10 - To Cage a Sea Gull

[bunniefuu]

KBEX Morning b*at time
is eleven minutes before :.

Time to go to the air now
with Pete Panelli in Airview .

Come in, Pete.

Yeah, Frank, we just left
the West Los Angeles area.

Traffic on the Hollywood Freeway is still
moving along quite well in both directions.

Down below us now,

we're above the interchange at the San Diego
and Santa Monica Freeway.

The earlier slowdown is all cleared up now.

I'd say we've got a winner.

There are no accidents,
no sig-alerts in effect, no major tie-ups.

For a Monday, it's looking great.

Airview is clear.

Thanks, Pete, for that live report.

The temperature outside the studio
is a sunny degrees,

and we'll get back to our records
in just a moment,

but first a word from our sponsor.

Hey, Pete.
How's the sunbathing scene?

Any action?

I'm sorry, I'm unable to read you.

Listen, you high-rise Peeping Tom,

a dollar says you're eyeballing
a rooftop right now.

Hey, listen, I understand they have a
jackknifed truck up there at Cabrillo Beach.

I want to run up and take a look.

I'm about halfway
to the county line right now.

Okay, baby, I gotta go.

Hey, listen, I tee off with Joe Mannix
about :.

Try and make it.
Will do.

Real fine. Airview is clear.

You need any help down there?

I say, do you need any help down there?

Do you want me to--

♪♪

Yes, Mr. Perram, I'll tell him
as soon as he get back from court.

Sign these.

What time?

Oh, I'd say about :, Mr. Perram.

Yes, Mr. Perram.

Goodbye.

Peggy, take the rest of the day off.

Thanks.

Oh, and sign this one.

Who've you got lined up for your pigeon?

My pigeon for the day
is the Lone Eagle of the Freeways.

Pete Panelli?

None other.
Tell Pete I said hi.

I'll do that, just as he starts
his downswing.

See you tomorrow.

Mr. Mannix' office.

Oh, hi, Frank.

Well, for you we'll make an exception.

Frank Binns of the radio station.

Oh.

Hey, Frank, you going to join us today?

What?

When?

Any idea how it happened?

I uh...

I don't know what to say, Frank.

I mean... Pete and his chopper...

they just...
sort of helped get my day started.

Without him, it--

Yeah.

Yeah, Frank, I'll be there.

Joe?

You understand, gentlemen,
that anything we say at this point

comes under the heading of speculation,

and we won't be able to give you
an official FAA readout

until we've had a chance
to reassemble the helicopter at the lab

and make an analysis.

Joe.

Al right.

Peter Panelli was reputed to be
a highly skilled chopper pilot.

So for now, we presume
he was the victim of mechanical failure.

Al right.

From preliminary data, we can estimate
altitude prior to the plunge.

Here. Notice the frame of the aircraft.

Now, abstracting from what the fire did,

we can see that purely structural damage
was slight-- relatively slight.

Equivalent to what would have resulted

from a free fall of not much more
than a hundred feet.

Al right.

The aircraft came to rest here,

some feet below the ridgeline.

Now that puts Panelli's altitude
over terrain prior to the plunge--

less than feet.

We think what happened was this--

Panelli was cruising at customary altitude
when he detected a malfunction.

He came low with the idea of setting down.

Believing that the problem had corrected
itself, he started back up.

And suddenly he lost everything.

All right, that's it, gentlemen.

We'll contact you as soon as we
have something definite.

Inspector Hartigan.

What brings you out, Joe?

Don't tell me you've joined
the working press.

No. I could use a little of their
detachment right about now.

Then you knew Panelli.

He taught me to fly choppers.
I taught him to play golf.

We had a game lined up today.

Inspector, what you said
about Pete's sensing a malfunction,

then thinking it was solved...
What about it?

He used to tell me over and over again--

Don't ever second-guess trouble
until you get out of that bubble.

If he suspected a malfunction,
he would have set that chopper down.

He wouldn't try to take it back up.

But he did.

The controls were locked in "lift" position.

Then the malfunction must have happened
after he came down and started back up.

Why?
What would have brought him down?

Maybe something he saw.

It's the boondocks, Joe.
There's nothing out there.

I don't know.

I never knew him to goof.
He just didn't. He was too good.

When the engine quits in one of those birds,
Joe, nobody's too good.

Not even Pete Panelli.

Well, Inspector, I'd still like
to keep the books open.

I

KBEX Morning b*at time is :.

Hey, you folks out in West Valley there,
out beyond Woodland Hills.

Remember, if you saw our helicopter
come down yesterday morning

about ten minutes of in the vicinity
north of Mulholland, give us a call.

Let us hear about it.
There's money in it.

In case you've just tuned in,
the reward is getting fatter.

The first hundred dollars
put up by a... private party

has been matched
by the staff here at KBEX,

and the management has offered
an additional hundred.

So our phone number is -.

If you know anything about it,
pick up the phone and call us.

Frank, anything yet?

No, a couple of flying saucer reports,

some gal out in Topanga Canyon
at a nudist camp.

Are you ready for this?

She saw three choppers
flying low yesterday.

But Pete's chopper wasn't one of them.

Anything else?

Oh, just some guy who said he was
too busy to talk on the phone,

but if you wanted to go out there,
he'd see you.

Hey, I'll take that one.

You really going to go out there, Joe?

He seemed like kind of a nut to me.

Oh, it's just a hunch.

But anybody that's too busy
to talk on the telephone

might have had time to keep his eyes open.

Thanks for the rule.
You bet.

You'd be from the radio station.

That's right.
And you're Antrim Scott.

I am.

It's me now, and it was me yesterday.

Yesterday morning, I was standing
right here feeding the Toms

at the exact moment your helicopter
was supposed to be crashing over there.

Supposed to be?
You mean you didn't see it?

No, no, no. What I saw was a plane.

I see.

Well, thanks, Mr. Scott. I'm afraid
you're not going to be much help.

Why not?

All you have to do is find
the fellow that flew that plane,

and he can give you chapter and verse
on your helicopter.

Don't you understand?
Yeah, well I do now.

Uh, can you give me a description?

Well, it was loud-- awful loud.

Making a terrible racket.

Hmm. Can you recall any markings?

I'm recalling the whole thing,

if you'll be kind enough to listen.

Sorry.

It came screaming right above us--

Not more than , feet high,
God save us all!

My Toms went crazy.

Started thrashing around,
flinging themselves against the fence.

You heard that phrase
"frightened to death"?

I sure have.

That's what happened to ten of my best.

You mean, from the noise
and the sudden appearance of the plane.

Indeed.

And now, young fella, I'll describe
that plane under one condition.

Oh, certainly. I've got it right here.

Oh, no, no, no. Keep your money.

But when you nab the fellow that flew
that plane, you tell me who he is.

Now you've got to promise.
I sure will.

I'll drag him before a judge--
I'll put such a suit on him.

When I'm through with him,
he'll think he's a turkey and a hen at that.

That's fair enough.
What color was the plane?

White.
Tell me, when this plane flew over,

did you happen to notice any numbers
or letters under the wings

or on the fuselage or tail?

You're looking at Exhibit A.

That boot is going to court.

Nick, fire off a repeat
on that registration request.

Tell the FAA we want that information
now, not next week.

Art.
Hello, Joe.

Oh, your turkey rancher
knew what he was talking about.

A plane did land?

On a dirt road-- behind the ridge
where Pete crashed.

We're making a moulage of the tire tracks.

Oh, while they were at it,
they found these little goodies.

Hmm. Not exactly what you'd
hunt jackrabbits with.

More than twenty of them.

Enough to bring the chopper down.

Pete must have spotted that plane
and thought it was in trouble,

went down to help, and then saw
something he wasn't supposed to see.

Lieutenant, your answer's coming through.

A white twin engine-- NT--

Owned by Elman Leasing Company,
West Los Angeles,

leased for the past week by Jud Gerner.

Berthed in Santa Monica.

Find Gerner.
Have him here when I get back.

Yes, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?

I want your Security people
to impound that aircraft.

Meanwhile, I'd like to take a look at it.

Yes, sir. I'll see where it's parked.

Any problem?

I'm sorry. We have a flight plan
on this aircraft.

Where to?
Ensenada, Mexico.

Pilot-- Jud Gerner. No passengers.

Call the tower.
If he hasn't taken off, hold him.

Right.

I'm sorry, sir. He lifted off just as word
came through from Operations.

Order him back.

We have no authority to do that, sir.
We need an air violation.

What do you need to talk to him?
Nothing, sir.

Do it.

I'll put you on the speaker.

November Tango,
Santa Monica Tower. Over.

November tango,
Santa Monica Tower. Over.

This is November Tango. Over.

November Tango,

this is Lieutenant Malcolm,
Los Angeles Police Department.

You are instructed to return
to this field immediately. Over.

November Tango, turn around
and come back-- that's an order.

I say again that's an order.

November Tango,
this is Santa Monica Tower.

Do you read me?

Failure to reply will be construed
as unauthorized flight to avoid arrest.

Let me try.

Gerner, listen, this is Joe Mannix.

I was a personal friend of the chopper pilot
who was k*lled yesterday.

All we're really after is some information.

Uh, we'd just like to know what really
happened yesterday morning.

Now, you were there
when the chopper went down.

Santa Monica Tower,
November Tango.

Santa Monica Tower,
November Tango.

Come in, November Tango.

Engine stalled. Unable to draw fuel
through line on either t*nk.

Heading degrees.

November Tango,
you are clear on your present heading.

How about Hughes Field?

You're okay for Hughes Field
in Playa Del Rey.

Maintain .

He's losing altitude too fast.
He'll never make it in.

Coast Guard Rescue and the Harbormaster.

Airspeed dropping. May have to ditch.

Gerner. Gerner, listen to me.

You can't get fuel from either t*nk.
That ought to tell you something.

You've been sabotaged.

Someone wants you dead.

Gerner, think about it.

You've been had. Can't you see that?

Gerner. Now come on, open up.
Tell us what happened.

What did the chopper see
it wasn't supposed to see?

Gerner! Who hired you, Gerner?
What were you doing there?

Gerner, who was with you?

Seagull! Seagull!

Thirsty?
Yeah. Thanks.

I talked to Art Malcolm's office.
They said you were still at the airport.

Figured you were making progress.

We were, but we missed the plane.

What have you got now?
A dead pilot.

He went down a couple of hundred yards
from the Marina.

Unaccountable accident, I suppose.
Like Pete's.

What's more, he had to know about it.

We were in radio contact
right up to the last second.

But did he say anything?
Yeah.

Seagull.

Seagull?

Mean anything to you?

A bird flying around.

Thanks a lot.
Oh, I get what you're driving at.

When you're going to your death,
why describe the scenery?

Hmm. You try and say
something significant.

Any calls?

Oh, Frank called from KBEX.

The funeral mass for Pete
is day after tomorrow at

at St. Charles in the Valley.

Said he'd check with you later.

Don't forget to order the flowers, huh?

Joe, about that pilot saying "seagull,"

did you hear him correctly? I mean,
maybe he was saying something else.

Like what?

Remember last year when I took
that course in semantics out at UCLA?

Now if we really care to stretch,

we can go into other languages
for phonic equivalents.

Would that be of use?

It's worth a try,
if you have the time, Professor.

Now we can eliminate Swedish
straight off.

Their closest equivalent would be cirkel,

which, of course, means circle.

In Italian, sicuro, which isn't close at all.

In Spanish, the word siglo,
which means century.

And we can skip French.

They have the "seh" sound
rather than the "see."

And Yiddish comes a bit closer.

There's zi, which mean yellow,

and zig/, which means seal or mark.

That brings to mind the German word
Ziegel, which means brick.

Oh, getting back to Yiddish for a moment,

I almost forgot the word saykhi,
which means reason or intellect.

It seems to me that this one
had the closest sound.

What did you say it meant?

Brick.

Excuse me.

A dying man shouting "brick"?

It's a bit ridiculous, isn't it?

Yeah.
Hello.

No more than seagull.
Yes. Yes, he is.

Just a moment, please.

It's for you, Mr. Mannix.

Hmm. Thank you.

Hello.

Right.

Yeah, right. I'll be there.

It seems they've recovered Gerner's plane,
or what's left of it.

How much did he get for his services?

Two thousand dollars.

Not bad.

Yeah it is, when you're too dead
to spend it.

A sample of what we found in both tanks,

not to mention the fuel lines.

About a sack and a half.

Popcorn?

Couldn't have been more effective
if it had been a b*mb.

The motion of the plane sloshes the fuel
around the t*nk, the popcorn gets wet.

More and more of it
settles to the bottom

until, finally, it completely clogs
the feed lines.

First they blast Pete
with a submachine g*n,

then they stuff Gerner's fuel tanks
with popcorn.

Ingenious, aren't they?

These are quite a bit larger
than the usual variety, aren't they?

That's right.
Standard expansion ratio is to .

These are half again as large.

Popcorn.

Almost every independent movie house
in the metropolitan area--

Including your drive-ins--
it'll be my popcorn you'll buy.

Of course, I have other outlets.

Five-and-dimes, bars, ballparks--

Mr. Slatoff, I'm interested in your new brand
that's one-and-a-half times as big.

Oh, my "King-Pop."

I understand you're the only one
that handles that.

I developed it.
But you're out of New York.

You don't mean to tell me
you heard about it back there.

When there's a breakthrough
of this magnitude, Mr. Slatoff,

it's our business to find out about it.

That's amazing.

So far, I've only test-marketed.

Here. This is the baby.

Top-grade lowa corn.

Less moisture-- that's the secret.

I expand each kernel times.

I'm revolutionizing the business.

Tell me, have you test-marketed
in Santa Monica?

Heavily.
How heavily?

Fifty-six spots. A real good sample.

I'll get you the list.

.

A sack that big?

Mister, my customers are only this high!

Thank you.

Never happen.

People buy this stuff on their way
into the theater, not on the way out.

You look b*at.

I 'am b*at.

There's got to be a better way
to make a living.

Oh, what a day.
Over fifty spots to cover.

What do you do?

You'd never believe it.

Try me.

You see this?
I work for the outfit that makes it.

You are looking at "King-Pop."

Now, my job is to run around town,
talking to guys like you

to find out how it's going over
and if it's going over.

Are you kidding? That stuff is terrific.

Our customers love it. And we love it.

This stuff soaks up so much booze, I serve
over a hundred drinks more every shift.

Oh, come on now.

What, are you trying to make me feel good?

No, I really mean it.

Last week we ordered ten
of those big sacks of yours--

You know, that's three-and-a-half
pounds each, right?

Right.
You know how many we got left?

One.

What are you doing?
Selling them out the back door?

Mac, will you listen to me?
I tell you, our customers love this stuff.

Even though, now that I think of it,
there were two sacks that I did sell.

Yeah? Who bought them?

Oh, the little chick works up the block.

She said she needed them
for some party or something.

What was I gonna say?

If a little King-Pop makes the lady happy,
you give her a little King-Pop.

Friend, you have said it all.

She have a name?

Bonnie?
Mm-hmm.

I just came from your local watering hole.
The bartender sent me.

Oh?

From his description, you had to represent
the ultimate in graphic art.

He was right.

And what do you represent?

Great Pacific Insurance,

which has me running around
trying to prevent bellyaches,

very bad bellyaches.

How nice of Great Pacific Insurance.

You see, one of our accounts
is the manufacturer of snack items.

When his product turns out
to be contaminated,

he gets sued, we pay.

Now, uh, getting back to the bar
down the street.

Last night you left there
with two sacks of popcorn

about, uh, so big.

That--

That was contaminated?

It was for Mr. Travers.

He wanted it for his little boy.

Mr. Mannix.

Are you-- Are you sure?

I mean, are you positive?
Come in, Mr. Mannix.

Fine.

No, that's fine.

No, you do exactly as I say.

No, no, not in the trash.
In the garbage disposal.

Just put it in the garbage disposal
and get rid of it.

That's fine.
Okay. Goodbye, sweetheart.

Oh, Mr. Mannix, I can't tell you
how grateful I am you came by.

Thank you.
I did get here in time, then.

Oh, indeed you did in time.

That popcorn was on its way
to my son's Cub Scout meeting tonight.

Oh, well,
that wouldn't have been very good.

Look, I'd love to do something for you.
Can I buy you a drink or something?

Oh, no, no, no. I'm afraid I have
too many other stops to make.

Thanks, anyway.

Listen, let me tell you--

I'm so-- I appreciate it so much--
I'm so very grateful.

Not at all. Good day.

Good day.

He seemed on the level.

Like I did?

You-- You better follow him.
Find out how much he knows.

Mitzuhito said the commission

will seek ways to avoid the v*olence

that has disrupted the campuses
of major universities throughout Japan

during the past months.

Argentina.

Rumors have apparently been confirmed,
and it is now believed

that American right-wing fanatic
Leonard Brix

has been k*lled in an expl*si*n
in the city of Chacabuco,

some one hundred miles
west of Buenos Aires.

Brix has been in hiding in Argentina
ever since his conviction here

on possession of an illegal
cache of weapons.

During the past eighteen months,

State Department officials
have tirelessly sought his extradition,

only to be thwarted by red tape

and the slow-moving processes
of international law.

Brix gained notoriety two years ago

as the militant leader
of the Party of the Fourth Reich,

breakaway faction of the INCAA--

The International New-n*zi Council
for an Armed America.

Hello.

Hello, Professor Resnick?
This is Joe Mannix.

Earlier today you mentioned
a German word that meant brick.

Ziegel.

Ziegel-- uh, now, what if |
wanted the word bricks?

What would the plural of Ziegel be?

Ziegel-- no change at all.

In other words, what sounded like seagull
could mean bricks, plural.

If I spell that phonetically,
it would be B-R-I-X, right?

Right.

Like in Leonard Brix?

But I thought he was k*lled in Argentina.

No, I'm afraid the news report on his death
was greatly exaggerated.

Thank you very much, Professor.

You've certainly made a believer out of me.

You're welcome, Mr. Mannix.

Hello, Bonnie.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix.
Your secretary isn't here.

She had to run an errand.

Please, sit down.

What's the problem?

Remember that other man
in Mr. Travers' office?

Mr. Olin?
Yes.

Well, the moment that you left,
he got into his car and went after you.

I knew something was going on.

So when he called in later,

I pretended to hang up
after I put him through to Mr. Travers,

but I didn't.

I listened.

He said that he followed you back here.

He found out that you're
not what you claimed.

You're a private detective.

And what was Mr. Travers' reaction?

He seemed... well, nervous.

And after I read the paper today,

I suddenly thought that Mr. Travers
might have had something to do

with that plane that crashed--

The one with the popcorn in the fuel tanks.

Is that possible?

It's possible.

Where does Travers live?

Way out. It's a dirt road.

Up behind Woodland Hills, that area?

Yeah.

You've been there?
Once.

Do you think you could find your way back?

You mean... take you there?

Yes.

But what if he had nothing to do
with the plane?

What if I'm wrong?

Now, if you thought that, you wouldn't
have come here, would you?

No.

I guess not.

Let's go.

Hold it!

Move over, sweetie.

Leave her out of this.
She's not involved.

Is that right?

Drive this car back to his place and park it.

Be sure you wipe away all the fingerprints.

Let's go, Mr. Mannix.

Any problems, Dave?

No, none whatsoever.

Well done.

Please sit down, Mr. Mannix.

You caused us brief concern.

However, I now consider your presence
a timely accommodation.

Shall I call you Brix,
or are you still using Ziegel?

Call me the Phoenix.

You do remember the mythology,
don't you?

How the fabled bennu bird
rose from its own ashes?

That would be in reference
to today's news report?

Came across convincingly, didn't it?

The world considers me dead.

I notice no one has declared it
a day of mourning.

What matters is not sentiment
but the creation of myth.

The idea that a man can die in an expl*si*n

and, like the Phoenix,
rise from the ashes to assume his destiny.

That's the kind of legend
that empires are built on.

When I give the signal tomorrow,

my shock units will hit a hundred
key cities across the nation.

Posing as leftists, they will g*n down the
police and m*ssacre the civil authorities.

Within a week, anarchy will prevail,
the existing order will topple, and--

You and your Fourth Reich
will take over.

I know, I know. It sounds mad,
but I'm hardly a fool.

We have prepared with thoroughness,
and we've bided our time.

Tomorrow we act, and history repeats.

Just where do I figure into this?

As our first official enemy of the State,

you'll establish our reputation for justice.

Under the circumstances,
we'll have to wait till dawn.

Well, that is tradition.

When you're trying to accomplish
what we are, tradition is important.

Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Mannix.

Joe. Joe, guess who's here.

Yeah. Why don't you answer
your phone calls, buddy?

Joel

Joe?

That's funny.

Well, it's not important.

Just give him the message for me,
will you, Peg?

That he's one of the pallbearers
for Pete tomorrow

and should be there
ten minutes ahead of time.

Right. You're a doll.

Frank.

Where could he be?

Well, that is his car out front, isn't it?

Yes.
Well, then he can't be too far.

Maybe he went for a bite.

He'd take his car.

Well, then, maybe he went for a walk.

No.

Well, now, it is possible.

There's something wrong, Frank.

I felt it earlier, too.

Peggy, will you listen to me?

His car is still sitting out front,
so obviously--

Frank, just in case,
check upstairs, huh?

And I'll check the car.

Frank!

No, Peg. Sorry. He's not here.

I knew it.

I knew it.
What?

He called Professor Resnick.

So?

So that means he found out something
or was trying to.

Either way, he'd be off and running--
in his car.

All right, Peggy, let's have it.

Have you ever heard
of a man named Leonard Brix?

Yeah.

He just d*ed in Argentina.

No. He's alive and well in Los Angeles.

Please, Art, just believe us.

We think Brix was smuggled in by plane
the other day, up in the Mulholland hills.

And Pete saw him.
That's why Pete was sh*t.

Where does that leave Joe?

Brix must have him.
That's the only possibility.

Take this down to Mannix.

Tell him it's a gift from the Fourth Reich.

It should last until dawn.

HE'S gone!

Find him! Find him!

Fan out! Fan out! Find him! Find him!

He seems to have disappeared.

All right, keep looking! Keep looking!

Mighty big of you, Art.

What?

This private limousine.

We do that for anybody
who sends up a flare that size.

Where's that membership list
you mentioned?

There you are.

You did a great job, Joe.

No, no, Pete Panelli did.

Which reminds me,
I'm due to say goodbye.