08x08 - Enter Tami Okada

[bunniefuu]

♪♪

Move on.

There's no double parking here.

I'm with the Japanese consulate.

Official business.

I'm here to meet the diplomatic
courier arriving from Tokyo.

Very nice to see you again.

Glad you had a good flight.

Stop the car!

The courier has been kidnapped!

What?
He forced me off the road!

He tied me up!
He took the car!

Just relax. He'll make a call.

Okay.

Thank you so much.

Good morning.
Good morning.

May I help you?

Yes, I'm here to see
Mr. Joseph Mannix.

Is he expecting you?

I should have called first.

I'm sorry,
but it is very important.

Name is Tami Okada.

One moment, Mr. Okada.

Oh, thanks, Peg.

Says it's important.

Show him in.

Mr. Okada.

Mr. Mannix.

Mr. Okada.

A pleasure to meet you,
Mr. Mannix.

Please sit down.

Would you like some coffee?

Of course. It would be
impolite to say no.

Not if you really don't want it.

Ah, well, I really don't.

Thank you.

Some tea?

How very kind of you.

Now, uh, what can I do for you,
Mr. Okada?

I need your help.

I'm your counterpart in Tokyo.

Counterpart?

Private investigator.

Oh. Oh.

May I say, your office
is most impressive?

Well, I'm not sure
that's quite the word for it.

Oh, yes.

In Japan,
investigator has small office,

most times, no secretary.

Beautiful flower arrangement.

Oh, what can I do to help you,
Mr. Okada?

One starts talking business
so soon?

In America, usually sooner.

Ah,

Perhaps you have read news
about diplomatic courier

who disappeared
day before yesterday.

Yes.

I've been sent here to find him.

By whom?
Courier's father.

He suffers deeply
from this disgrace.

Disgrace?

The man was kidnapped.

Oh, yes, in Japan, when a man
fails in professional duty,

it is a disgrace to family.

Even when it's not his fault?

Yes.

And if courier
is not found soon,

his father will have to atone.

How?

For those who live by our
customs, there is only one way.

Yes, Mr. Mannix.

Hara-Kiri.

In this day and age?

In Japan, days do not age
as they do here.

Huh.

Well, I'll be glad
to do whatever I can.

Thank you.

You see, it is my first time
in your country.

Hmm.

Now, do you have any leads?

Leads?

Clues.

Ah, clues, yes, yes.

There is someone
the courier has seen

each time he comes
to Los Angeles.

She works at Japanese Village
in Sea Theater Show.

This time, ladies and gentlemen,

we'd like to introduce
something quite spectacular.

And you'll agree to that
when you see it.

We're going to use
two of our oldest dolphins,

Uriko and Okiyro.

We're one of the few theme parks
in the world doing this,

results of nine months
of training.

The dolphins are side by side.

And this is it,
ladies and gentlemen.

Amyio Kim astride our two
dolphin stars, Uriko and Okiyro.

Going out on the ride of his
life, making one revolution.

Now in for the landing;
that's the tricky part.

Well, the second time around,
and look at him go.

They're really picking up speed.

Can he make it?

Safe and sound.

That's Amyio Kim.

Our dancers are
performing something

quite traditional in Japan,

bringing our show
good luck and fortune.

Our dolphins have
been watching the dance,

and they've come up with
a modernized version.

It's something
everyone can learn.

So if you expect to learn,

you'll have to watch
very closely.

Took them a couple months
to pick up this dance step.

Shouldn't take you
any time at all.

Watch closely.

Think of how impressed
your friends will be

as you show them
the latest craze.

It's called The Dolphin, by
our dancing discotheque stars.

Our dolphins will be
leaving us at this time,

and they'd like to thank Kim
in the way that they know best.

That's by waving good-bye,
dolphin style.

And as a conclusion to our show,

we'd like to thank
our trainer Amyio Kim,

our three dolphins,
Uriko, Akim and Okiyro.

And with the flight of
our doves, we'll end our show.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you very much,

and we hope you have a nice day
here at the Japanese Village.

Excuse me,
we're looking for Miss Nakano.

Thank you.

Miss Nakano?

Yes?

I'm Joe Mannix.

This is Tami Okada.

Oh, is it about Akio Iguchi?

Yes.

I've already told the police
I know nothing.

But you are
a good friend of his.

I see him whenever he comes
to Los Angeles.

Did you know he was
coming here this time?

I never know in advance.

Excuse me, Nakano-san.

May I ask if he telephoned
from airport to say he was here?

No, he didn't.

Do you know where he stays
when he's in Los Angeles?

I've already told you,
I know nothing.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

A pleasantly
beautiful young lady.

What does that mean?

Huh?

Oh, it means, "Meeting is
beginning of parting.”

No, no.

I told them I didn't know
where you were.

I'll call you later.

Good-bye.

Joe, what are you
so worried about?

Tami Okada said he'd be here
for lunch at : .

Joe, it's only a quarter after.

Peggy, when a Japanese
says : , he means : sharp.

Old custom, punctuality.

I tell you,
there's something wrong.

Well, where'd he say he was
going when you dropped him off?

He wanted to go over to Little
Tokyo and look for a lead.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Just one moment, Mr. Okada.

Oh, what happened?
Where are you?

Sorry not to be punctual.

Have been busy.

Did you find anything?

Not safe to talk on phone.

I have read about
wiretapping in the U.S. of A.

Meet me.

Okay, where?

I'll be there.

Where you going?

Shopping.

Where else?

Hey, what's this
all about, Tami?

When I left hotel room today,
I put matchstick on top of door.

On return from Japanese Village,
matchstick on floor in hall.

Meaning that somebody opened
the door while you were gone.

Somebody still inside
when I get to room.

So, I come here.

You mean, you didn't
go in after him?

Oh, no. I leave quietly.

Why?

Number one reason: I'm rather
good at karate and kung fu,

but there are some
who are better.

Number two: in Japan,
it is considered disgrace

for man of law to use force.

Number three:
a man in room might have g*n.

Well, there is always
that third possibility.

In Japan, no.

Here, yes.

In Japan, only policemen and
soldiers allowed to have g*ns.

And how do you plan
on taking care of that somebody?

I will trick him
into using force against me.

How do you plan to do that?

I have let it be known
in Little Tokyo,

I go to bath house across
the street from hotel at : ,

hoping that Yakuza
will hear about this.

Yakuza?

Gangster.

Ah,

I'm hoping he will
be waiting for me outside

to make forceful att*ck on me.

And suppose Yakuza is
across the street on the roof

and takes a sh*t at you
from there?

Yakuzas think it is cowardly
to use g*ns.

Prefer knives.

This one could be the exception.

Number three reason
for not going into room.

But if I am k*lled,
you will be there

to capture Yakuza
and find Courier.

It's your funeral.

Oh, that's just
an old American saying.

♪♪

Excellent bath house,
very clean.

Someone on roof?

I haven't seen anyone suspicious

on the roof or anywhere else.

Will come.

Do not keep too close.

Yakuza must think
I am all alone.

Oh, uh, tuna sashimi.

Malcolm.

Yeah, Art, Joe.

Do me a favor, will you?

A pickup truck,
license number FTW.

Joe, if you want me
to put out an APB,

you've got to give me
some details.

All I want
is to have it followed.

Some details, Joe.

Art, there's no time.

Now look, just tell me

when and where the truck parks.

I might even catch a couple
of big fish for you.

Yeah, okay, Joe.

FTW.

Splendid cooperation
from police.

Also splendid
to have phone in car.

Will definitely get one
when I get car.

Excuse me,
did a couple of men go by here,

one of them Japanese?

Oh, yeah, about ten minutes ago.

Where did they go?

Went toward the Sea Theater.

♪♪

Get back to the car.

Call Lieutenant Malcolm
at Police Headquarters.

Tell him to get away
with some men fast.

Not necessary;
two of them, two of us.

But you don't have a g*n.

Now get going.

♪♪

♪♪

Oh!

Oh! Aah!

Take comfort.

As we sometimes say in Japan,
"To be beaten is to win.”

Yeah, well, my head tells me
we're not in Japan.

Thanks, Tami.

I'm pleased that you call me
by first name, Joseph.

Joe.

Okay, Joe, far out.

Where did you learn that?

Worked as bartender in Tokyo
to send me through college.

Many American tourists
come there.

Hi, Art, anything?

Nobody around
but a few workmen and guards.

We've questioned all of them,
but nothing.

You work here?

I'm working with Joe.

Oh?

Tami Okada.

He's a private investigator
from Tokyo.

Lieutenant Malcolm.

Well done, Lieutenant,
to get here so fast.

Thanks.

Working on what?

Missing person.

Japanese diplomatic courier.

That's my case, Joe.

Yeah, well, uh,

if we get any leads,
we'll let you know, Art.

Or clues, Lieutenant.

What are you doing here so late?

There's someone inside
waiting to see you.

Yeah, who?

A girl.

Midori Nakano.

I didn't know where else to go.

About what?

This afternoon when we talked,

I lied to you.

I did know where Akio-san was.

Why didn't you say so?

He told me not to tell anyone.

Trust is most important.

But two men walked

into my dressing room
this afternoon

and asked
if I knew where Akio-san was.

I told them I didn't.

Was one of them Japanese?

Yes, and the other,

most frightening man.

They didn't believe me.

They threatened me.

And you told them?

No, the stage manager walked in,

and they just went away,

but I think somehow
they found Akio-san.

What makes you think that?

Well, as soon as I could get
to the telephone,

I called Akio-san to warn him.

A man answered.

When I asked for Akio-san,
he just hung up.

Was it one of the two men?

I think so, but I'm not sure.

Hurry, please.

I-I'm so afraid.

Akio-san was at Crown Motel

at East Avenue.

I told you
he didn't have any luggage.

What are you looking for?

When people check into
your motel, you usually make

a note of the license number
of their cars, right?

He came in a cab.

Did he leave in a cab,
or did somebody pick him up?

Cab.
What kind?

City Cab.

City Cab Company.

Eddie, Joe Mannix.

Well, it's good to hear
from you, Joe.

Eddie, listen, uh,
you got a call

from the Crown Motel about : .

Where'd the cab go?

Oh, now, Joe,

I got strict orders
against giving out log entries.

It's important, Eddie.

Well, so is my job, you know?

It seems to me I remember

a couple of times
when you needed a favor.

Stop shoving, will you?

Oh, now, Eddie, don't tell me

you forgot that trip
to San Diego?

Okay, hold on.

Very effective.

When I get home again,

I must remember to do favors
for taxi dispatchers.

And don't forget hotel clerks
and doormen.

And et cetera.

Joe?
Yeah, Eddie, what've you got?

Gardena.

The Kyoto Club.

Good evening, gentlemen.
Good evening.

We're looking for a man
named Akio Iguchi.

I do not know the name.

Well, he would have arrived
a few minutes before : .

About years old,
medium height,

probably wearing a black suit.

Sorry, I do not remember him.

What'd she say?

Is he here?

No, no, now we are
in my baseball park.

Must go slowly.

One moment, please.

First we go to private room
for dinner,

then ask questions.

What was in the envelope?

$ bill.

In Japan, we put tips in paper
or put them in envelopes.

Tips and bribes.

What makes you think
we're getting anything

but a private room for that $ ?

Lady's manner reveals
she is honorable person.

As such, she would not
take money deceitfully.

This way, please.

You handle chopsticks
like Japanese.

I learned in Korea.

If we were in Orient now,

we would have geisha girls
to entertain us with meal.

You haven't forgotten
we're still

working on a case, have you?

A refined, well-trained geisha
can be very helpful.

Lovely face, soothing music,

tranquility,

rests soul and stimulates mind.

I think your mind's
been stimulated enough

with Akio's girlfriend, Midori.

Very shrewd observation,

but do not think it is just a
response to her physical charm.

You could have fooled me.

People who told me about her
say she has very fine ancestry.

Most eligible young lady.

You should never
leave chopsticks in rice bowl.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Bad luck, old superstition.

Means nothing.

But you'd like me
to take them out?

If you wish.

The man you are
seeking talked to somebody

at the bar
who looked like a Yakuza.

I was afraid to tell you while
the Yakuza was still there.

Do you know where the man
we were looking for went?

He asked me how to get
to the Buddhist Temple.

Akio talked at the bar

with man who looked like Yakuza,
and then left.

Well, is the-the gangster
still here?

No. She was afraid to come
until he left.

Does she know who he is?

No, but she knows
where Akio may have gone.

Where?

He asked her how to get
to Buddhist Temple.

♪♪

I thought I heard someone.

What is it you want?

Excuse me, do you speak English?

Yes.

We were told a man
came here about an hour ago.

His name is Akio Iguchi.

I heard no one come in.

Akio!

Hara-kiri, huh?

I didn't think
they did that anymore.

According to Tami,

it's still the only
honorable form of su1c1de.

Well, if we get
positive identification,

I guess that does it.

Well, give me a ring
if you find out, will you?

Don't I always?

I have a question, Joe.

What's that?

When body is found,

do police not send men to look
for fingerprints and et cetera?

They'll be here soon, Tami.

Not so fast this time.

Lieutenant Malcolm
is very intelligent man,

but not brilliant.

No?

It was not hara-kiri.

It was m*rder.

What makes you so sure?
Before hara-kiri,

man with Samurai traditions

must fulfill
certain obligations.

Such as?

Must explain to family
why he's going to do it,

to family and other loved ones.

He would have told
his loved one, Midori.

What makes you think
she was his loved one?

Impossible for friendship
with Midori

not to ripen into love.

Well, we'd better go see Midori.

Oh, no.

Not proper
to intrude on her sorrow.

But we have to, Tami.

She might know something.

Yes, but not tonight.

First you must take me
some place

where I can buy her present.

A present?
Custom.

We give presents
when somebody dies.

Oh.

Uh, maybe you'd like
to see her alone?

No, no. Two who go
on a journey together

should remain together
until it is over.

Forgive the intrusion,

Midori Nakano-san.

I offer heartfelt condolences
and this trivial gift.

I accept with warmest thanks.

I offer my deepest sympathy,
Midori Nakano-san,

and this trivial gift.

I accept with warmest thanks.

I regret to speak
of matters like this,

but I think it was m*rder,
not hara-kiri.

m*rder?

Do you, too, believe that
Akio-san was m*rder*d?

I believe
he might have been, yes.

Think hard, please.

You must tell us
everything you know.

I know very little.

Akio-san telephoned me
from motel

to tell me that he got away
from the man at the airport.

There was only one man?

He didn't say.

All he told me was
that the only way to atone

was to get back
the attaché case.

Can you think of anyone else
that me might have phoned?

No.

Could he have called somebody
at the consulate, maybe?

Unlikely.

But he did owe them
an explanation, didn't he?

It would have been too shameful

for him to confess
that he had been unworthy

of the trust placed in him.

We will leave you now,
Midori-san.

You know, Tami, this whole thing
could have been a setup.

A setup?

Yeah, something planned
to look like something else.

Ah, setup.

By whom?

Akio.

But why?

A fake kidnapping maybe,
so that he could get his share

of the money
without being suspected.

You think money was
in the attaché case?

A diplomatic courier doesn't
have to go through customs.

For all we know,
he could have been

bringing in the emperor's jewels
or dr*gs.

I cannot believe this of Akio.

Well, let's see
what we can find out

at the consulate, huh?

Cotter, stay home!

Cotter, stay home!
Cotter, stay home...

Who is Cotter?

Big industrialist from up north.

I thought the Japanese
loved him.

Ah, James Cotter,

who was
at Tokyo Trade Conference?

Yeah, he's been plugging hard

for cooperation
with Japanese industry.

He's just been named
U.S. Consul in Osaka.

Very popular man in Japan.

Except with fanatical
nationalists.

Is that the driver

who was sent to the airport
to pick up the courier?

Yes. I saw his picture
in newspaper.

Pardon me?
Yes?

I would like to ask you
a few questions

about the day the courier
was kidnapped.

Was there another man

with the one who took
the limousine from you?

Only one man.

Excuse me.

Well, let's see
what we can find out inside.

Anyone there you
do favors for, Joe?

No, this is one place I missed.

Maybe make note.

I realize that the contents

of the attaché case
are confidential,

but if there was something in it

that might provide a motive
for m*rder...

Nothing was in the case
except official communiques.

But how is it possible
to be sure?

The case was not delivered.

The consul has authorized me
to tell you it was delivered.

It was found
outside the consulate door

the morning
after the courier disappeared.

Maybe there was something
in the case

that was taken out
before it was left here.

Of course, that is possible.

But then why would he bother
to deliver it at all?

Oya on.

Pardon?

Oya on means obligations
to our parents

of which it is said,

"One never repays
one ten-thousandth.”

Akio brought shame
to his parents.

He was overwhelmed by remorse,
so he...

Perhaps I should explain
the difference

between on and gimu.

Tami, excuse me,

but could you just kind
of sum it up?

Overwhelmed by remorse,

Akio left the attache case
at the consulate.

And then atoned
by committing hara-kiri.

Very interesting theory, Joe.

But since Akio did not
fulfill his obligations

to family and loved ones,

I still do not believe
it was hara-kiri.

And you have an obligation
to find out who k*lled him.

You are beginning
to think like Japanese.

Oya no on.

No, gimu.

You see, with Akio it was ko,

with me it is nimmu.

All right, Tami,
assuming it was m*rder,

where do you want to look next?

Must have time to think, Joe.

Okay, let's think separately
until : .

I'll pick you up for dinner.

Many thanks for driving me
to hotel, my dear friend.

♪♪

I wouldn't want it known
in Little Tokyo

I used v*olence, Joe.

I won't tell a soul.

What did you use--
karate or kung fu?

To talk about use of force
is in poor taste.

Let's see
if we can get him to talk.

Come on.

I thought a friend of mine lived
in that hotel room.

Oh, yeah, and you were waiting
for him with a g*n in your hand.

I didn't even know
the g*n was there.

Thanks, Larry.

Well, Mr. Pike, it seems
that your fingerprints match

a set of prints
we found last night on a...

I was in Long Beach last night.

I got witnesses.

...on a window
of a Buddhist temple

in which a man was found dead.

More brilliant than I thought.

A man named Akio Iguchi.

Never heard of him.

Let me refresh your memory.

You talked to him
at the Kyoto Club.

Hey, now I remember.

I was walking past that temple
yesterday.

A little guy said a window was
stuck and would I help open it?

Lieutenant,
may I make observation?

Go ahead.

Hara-kiri has many traditions--
the way sword is held,

the way person is dressed,
and et cetera.

All this must conform
to ancient custom.

And this hara-kiri didn't?

No, did.

Point being that Mr. Pike here

would not know how
to arrange it.

Must have been done by Japanese.

Which lets me out.

May I make suggestion?

Sure, why not?

Point finger at guilty man

and may be rewarded
with lighter sentence.

No deals.

You take your chances.

But the DA won't lean too hard

on the man who didn't do it.

Would he?

Who did it?

His name is Takeshi,

Yorio Takeshi.

Where could we find him?

South Ruxton.

I didn't know what it was
all about in the beginning.

It just looked like a way
to pick up some easy money.

What was it all about?

Takeshi belonged to some crazy
outfit in Tokyo called Terror.

He was sent here to k*ll
a guy named James Cotter.

Hard to understand.

Not for me, Joe.

I understand every word.

Very fine recording.

Aha, Japanese equipment.

What's hard to understand, Tami,

is why they sent a man
all the way from Japan.

Terror outfit probably has
no members here.

Yeah, but Pike said
they have an undercover man

working at the consulate.

And all he knows
is what Takeshi told him.

Why would Takeshi lie to Pike?

"Crazy" means "lunatic,”
does it not?

Something like that.

Lunatics do things
that make no sense.

A government
agent in Tokyo found out

why Takeshi was sent here.

A tip-off to the L.A. consul
was in the attaché case,

and an agent working
undercover in Tokyo

passed the word on to Takeshi.

And that's
why he wanted the case?

Yeah, so nobody here would know

Takeshi was out to get Cotter.

Excuse me, Joe.

That part is hard to understand

because consul did get
attaché case.

He did?

Yes, and if clue was in case,

consul would notify police,
which he didn't.

Well, I think I've got
an answer to that, Tami.

What, please?

Takeshi took the tip-off
out of the case

before he dropped it off
at the consulate.

Ah, and this
he did not tell Mr. Pike.

Right.

Mannix.

We got Takeshi, Joe.

And is there an undercover man
at the consulate?

Takeshi won't talk.

Art, if I were you,
I'd play it safe

and give Cotter
some extra protection.

Joe, sometimes
we get ideas, too.

Cotter's car is headed up
the coast with a police escort.

Very good.

But Cotter isn't in it.

Well, that's even better.

The consulate chauffeur
is driving him to the airport.

His private plane is waiting.

Nice going, Art.

They got Takeshi.

Splendid.

Assassination would been
most harmful

to relations
between Japan and U.S. of A.

What is it, Joe?

You do not look happy.

Case is over.

The consulate chauffeur.

Something is wrong?

Now, he said that the man
who h*jacked the limousine

was all alone.

Ah, and we know now it was
Takeshi and Pike-- two men.

The only reason
the chauffeur would have lied

is because he's
the undercover man.

♪♪

Have a nice trip, sir.

♪♪

Keep both hands on the wheel.

Your assignment was
to k*ll Cotter, wasn't it?

That is ridiculous.

Why'd you let him get away?

I was only doing my job--
driving him to the plane.

Unless you planted something
on the plane.

Nimmu, huh?

Hang onto him, Tami,
there's a b*mb on that plane.

Get out of the plane;
there's a b*mb aboard.

Quick, get out.

Hurry up.

Far out, Joe.

And the chauffeur has made
full confession.

The kidnapping of Akio
was a-a setup.

Thank you very much
for coming here to tell me.

Would you please give
my condolences

and this trivial gift
to Akio-san's parents?

Yes, tomorrow.

I will remember you both
with great warmth.

As we shall remember you,
Midori Nakano-san.

Sayonara.

Meeting is the beginning
of parting.

Parting doesn't have
to be permanent.

Maybe make note.