08x11 - The Survivor Who Wasn't

[bunniefuu]

♪♪

♪♪

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...with a loss
of passengers,

and Penn Anderson, Beverly Hills
real estate developer,

the sole survivor.

It's the story of a man
miraculously flung clear

at the time of the crash,
even more miraculously,

groping his way
from deep wilderness

to a trackless
expanse of desert,

and living to tell about it.

They should be ready
for us now, Mrs. Anderson.

And I can tell you
we have every reason to believe

that the surgery's
been successful.

I just want to...
Warn me?

You said it was successful.

Well, not warn you,
I just want to remind you

of what I first told you,
about the damage

the sun had already done
to your husband's face.

You said the restoration
might not be entirely...

Well, uh, starting
from scratch, as it were...

Oh, but no
unpleasant distortion,

of that I can assure you.

You may notice certain,
uh, nuances of expression,

that sort of thing,
and the voice.

The voice? Yes,
there'll be a hoarseness.

Well, the larynx suffered
rather extensive damage, too.

But we believe that in time

he'll begin to sound
quite normal.

Okay?

Okay.

Penn?

Kelly?

Hello, Kelly.

We were sure you'd want your
wife here for the unveiling.

Well, I'm not so sure.

It all depends.

Have faith, Mr. Anderson.

Well?

Let me answer.

It's excellent.

Excellent.

I'm really pleased,
Mr. Anderson.

Oh, so will you be, Penn.

Really you will.

You want proof?

And every time
you look in there,

what you see you're
going to like even better.

Now, that's a professional
opinion and a known fact.

Are... you pleased?

Oh, of course I am...

A stranger.

But...

if you can get...

used to him...

I suppose...

I can, too.

♪♪

You did say Mrs. Penn Anderson?
Yes.

Mr. Mannix is expecting you.
Mrs. Anderson?

We both recognize the name.

That was quite an experience
your husband had.

A remarkable feat.

Yes, it was.

Oh, please, come in.

Have a seat, Mrs. Anderson.

How's he doing?

Very well, the doctors say.

He should be leaving
the hospital any day now.

I'm glad to hear that.

That's just part of it.

Uh, how do you mean?

He'll be coming home.

Is that a problem?

I don't know
how to tell you this,

because I don't think
you'll believe me.

I'm not sure
I even believe it myself.

But I have to know, Mr. Mannix.

Know what, Mrs. Anderson?

The man in the hospital...

I don't believe
he is my husband.

You're from the airline,
Mr. Mannix,

is that what you said?
Well, not exactly.

Uh, the insurance end.

Oh, I see.

Well, I was wondering when
I'd be hearing from you fellows.

The usual procedure is,
we wait to hear from you.

You will, Mr. Mannix.

That hospital
wasn't exactly free, you know.

And those miles of desert...

you'll be paying
a lot more than taxicab fare.

See that he's all right.

Just what the hell
is the matter with you?!

Oh, mister... oh, God...

if it wasn't for you, I...

My-my accelerator jammed on me
as I was making that turn.

I...
Just what are you doing here?

Oh, |, uh...

I-I was gonna park my car here.

My brother's a...
brother's a patient here, see?

I... oh, I...

Look, anyway, we're-we're
both very lucky, you know?

Oh, say,

tell that guy over there
I'm sure sorry, huh?

Yeah, I'll do that.

Hey... I'm sorry.

Uh-huh. It's all right.
I'm fine.

He's all right.

Sorry about that.

As crash landings go,

I'd say that was a breeze.

Right now I'm more concerned
about that near miss.

Well, I suppose a man
could even get used to that.

Oh, it isn't that I don't
appreciate what you did for me.

As far as I'm concerned...

you can knock a couple of bucks
off my settlement.

No need for that, Mr. Anderson;
the shove is on me.

His license number
was what, Joe?

- - -K-Q-B.

All right,
I'll have DMV check it out.

But what makes you think
he's not for real?

He said he was on his way
to visit his brother

in the hospital, and when
he headed for the parking lot,

I kept an eye on him.

He drove up and down
a couple of aisles,

and then drove out.

So? He changed his mind.

Maybe, or he never had a brother
there in the first place.

Now, look, Art,
you come up with a name,

and I'll find out soon enough.

Yeah, thanks.

Yes.

Well, yes, I'll tell him.

Thank you. Whoever
that was, Peggy, I'm out.

I'm on my way
to the airlines office.

To check the passenger list
of the crashed plane? Right.

You can save yourself a trip--
that was the airline.

Oh, they're gonna
send the list over?

I mean they respectfully decline
to show it to you at all.

Matter of policy.

Policy is policy, Mr. Mannix.

What's to explain?

Well, one thing is why,
to date, there has been

no publication whatsoever
of the passengers' names.

That's always withheld until
next of kin have been notified.

You mean they don't know by now?

Those people aren't missing
in action in Vietnam.

This was a commercial air crash,
front page news.

Exactly what is your position
in this, Mr. Mannix?

My position, Mr...

By the way,
what is your full name?

I want to get it
exactly correct.

Oren J. Arthur.

Oren J... Arthur.

Now, my position, Mr. Arthur,

is that of a licensed,
bonded representative of the law

who is more than
a little puzzled

at your airline's
behavior in this matter,

and who thinks that the press
might be puzzled, too,

once they've been advised.

We have nothing to hide.

Not even the passenger list?

All right, come with me.

Here you go.

Let's see you
make something out of it.

Won't even take long to try--
the names are alphabetized.

Hm.

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

Hmm.

I don't see the name
Penn Anderson listed.

Penn Anderson?

The only survivor.

Oh!

Yes.

The survivor.

Uh...

that check mark.

Martin Thompson.

Now, the man who
walked away from that crash

has had plenty of publicity
as Penn Anderson.

Why wasn't
the discrepancy reported?

Mr. Mannix,
this was not an overseas flight

requiring passports.

If Mr. Anderson
chose to fly as Mr. Thompson,

why, that was his privilege.

Actually, the authorities
did learn about that,

and evidently
they didn't see any reason

to make anything out of it.
Mm.

Well, I guess if it's
good enough for the authorities,

it's good enough for me.

Thank you, Oren.

Hello, Joe.

I know. You just happened to be
in the neighborhood, right?

Oh, I happened to be wondering

what's got your people so
interested in that plane crash?

Oh, are we interested?

Well, I got that impression

from one of the airline's
junior Napoleons.

The authorities
was the way he put it.

Oh, well, that could be anybody

from the Federal Aviation
Administration

to the Texas Rangers.

Anyway, whoever "they" are,
they haven't chosen

to let me in on it.

I wouldn't mind if you did,
though, Joe.

Is there something
I ought to know?

Yeah, there's quite a bit
I ought to know.

When I find out,
I'll pass it along.

Yeah, well,
if it's concerning that driver

with the jammed accelerator,

I may be able
to advance you a step.

You identified the car?
Oh yeah.

There's something I'm missing.

It belonged to a year old
librarian

who lives in Altadena.

Stolen?
Yeah.

She reported it
two days ago.

We found it abandoned about
a mile from the hospital.

Meaning whoever borrowed it,

borrowed it to pull a job.

Which means we've lost him.

Maybe not.

Maybe not what, Art?

We found some
fresh fingerprints in that car

that didn't belong to a
little old lady from Altadena.

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

Well, I'm pleased
to see you again.

It looks like you're
coming along just fine.

Well, every day I seem
to get stronger and stronger.

Ah, good, good, good.

Now, here you are,
Mr. Anderson.

What's this?

Oh, they're the usual
insurance forms.

If you would look them over,
and fill them out,

it would certainly help
speed things up.

Yes.

Oh, yes.

These look like very,
very good copies.

Copies?

Copies. They're no more
legitimate

than you are an insurance man.
Let me buy you a drink?

Yeah, I think I could use one.
Scotch on the rocks.

Right.

You know, Mr. Mannix,

my wife has been acting rather
strangely since my return.

So the other day...

I had one of my employees
follow her.

Where do you suppose she went?

To my office.

Exactly.

How about why she hired me?

Any information on that?

Well, Mr. Mannix,

I think it's safe to say

the sort of thing I went through

doesn't leave a man precisely
the way it found him.

Now, that's aside from
any changes of contour

of the face or the nose
or anything.

However,

it would appear that my wife,

Kelly,

thinks that I have changed

considerably more than somewhat.

I mean...

she is more than merely puzzled.

I suppose the whole experience

of the airplane crash...

the strain
that it put on her,

well, it was just
very traumatic.

The fact is, Mr. Mannix,

that in the case of my wife,

I feel that she needs

quite another kind of specialist

other than
a private investigator.

Are you saying
the dramatic change...

is in your wife?

Yes.

That's one way of putting it.

However, in your case,
you must agree

that there was some change

in you before the crash...

if in name only.

You were on that plane
as Martin Thompson.

Oh, that.

Odd thing to do.

No, no, not at all.

Not if you're in the land
development business.

You see,
Mr. Mannix,

competitors are constantly
snooping around,

trying to get a line
on what they think

you are going to be doing next.

Now, in this particular
instance,

I was on a very hot deal, so |
merely took some precautions,

that's all.

Tell me, Mr. Anderson,

are any of those competitors

rough enough
to try and k*ll you?

What?

Well, let's say,
try and run you down

crossing the hospital driveway
in a wheelchair?

Now we're competitive,

but we're not savage.

No, Mr. Mannix, I think
you're imagining things,

and perhaps, in your case,
it is somewhat of a...

occupational habit, I suppose.

Yeah, yeah, well, that could be.

Anyway, thank you very much

for the drink, Mr. Anderson.

Oh, well, thank you.
Thank you for the visit.

Listen, you put that bill
of mine in the mail

and I'll see to it
that it's paid promptly.

Oh, no, no need for you
to do that, Mr. Anderson.

Well, no. I mean,
it's very generous, but...

Not at all.
It isn't yours to pay.

You didn't hire me.
Your wife did.

Mr. Mannix...

No, Mrs. Anderson,
he didn't exactly come out

and say you thought
he was an imposter.

What did he say?

Well, I think a fair translation
would be that you were...

suffering delusions,

and needed help.

Do you believe that?

You're my client,
Mrs. Anderson.

I'm doing my very best
to believe you.

Art, anything on those
fingerprints?

Oh yeah. A report came in
about an hour ago.

We've been trying to reach you.

Chances are those prints belong
to the car thief, all right.

They were fresh enough,
and he's hot enough.

Creep named Danny O'Meara.

Anything on him?

Nothing but a bad smell
so far.

We think he's connected
with a new organization in town.

Any connection with real estate?

Not unless you consider heroin
and prostitution real estate.

They're a syndicate, Joe.

We think O'Meara
does odd jobs for them.

Okay, Art, since you're
such a whizbang at fingerprints,

I've got some more for you.

Now those insurance forms
have the fingerprints

of the man currently calling
himself Penn Anderson.

I think you ought
to check them out.

Here are all the letters, Joe.

Ready for your signature.

Thanks, Peggy.
I'll see you tomorrow, huh?

Well, Art will be calling
anytime now

with that fingerprint report.
I don't mind waiting.

Peggy, I can sign
the letters by myself.

I can also answer the telephone.

Now, you just pick it up
and talk into it, right?

But, Joe, you might need...

Goodnight, Peggy.

Goodnight, Joe.

Mannix. Yeah, Art.
What took you so long?

Calm down, Joe, I called you
as soon as I could.

And what about Penn Anderson?

Well, I don't know if this is
gonna flip you or relax you.

Well, come on, Art, what is it?
Let's have it.

Penn Anderson turns out to be...

Penn Anderson.

Are you sure?

Positive.
We had his fingerprints checked

against those
on his Air Force record.

Joe, are you there?

Yeah, yeah, I'm here, Art.

So Anderson is Penn Anderson.

Then his wife is hallucinating.

But why is he a target
for the syndicate?

I mean, what's the connection?

I wouldn't worry
about that, Mister.

Hang up now.

Company, Art.

Hey, what's going on in there?

Joe? Joe?

Are you there?

Joe, what's going on?

♪♪

All right, Mannix,

tell us all you know
about the job you're doing

for Penn Anderson.

I am not working
for Penn Anderson.

How many times
do I have to say it?

Now the reason we're here,
Mannix,

is so we can find a little peace

while you find out we mean
to get the right answers.

Now, how much
did Anderson tell you?

About what?

Now don't give us that.
We heard you on the phone.

"Syndicate,” isn't that
what you said?

Yeah, I...

I thought there
might be a connection.

Apparently there is.

Who were you talking to?
Who was on the phone?

I told you...

the police.

You mean the Feds, don't you?

If you're not working
for Anderson,

you must be
working for them, right?

I'm not working with anybody.

Make him understand

it's important
for him to tell us.

♪♪

Check this place out.

♪♪

Nothing, Lieutenant.

Yeah, well, give me a hand here.

Well?

They slipped us, sir.

What about Mannix?

He'll survive.

They're FBI men, Joe.

I don't know how long
they had you under surveillance,

but they were trailing you

and they didn't know
how much clout those guys had,

so they shortwaved us
to take over.

Well, that answers
one of the questions.

What's that?

Who the authorities are,
riding the case.

What did they say, uh, about
Anderson and the syndicate?

They were about as closemouthed
as they could be.

Oh, they, they must have said
something.

I got the impression
that Anderson was

some kind of a front money man
for the mob.

He laundered syndicate funds

through those land deal
operations.

Well, the...

What's the FBI waiting for?

Either they have the evidence
or they haven't.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Art, uh, you wouldn't be holding
out on an old pal, would you?

Believe me, Joe,
that's all they told me.

Well, they did say
one more thing.

They gave me a message for you.

Yeah?

Get interested in another case.

They don't want to see or hear
any more from you.

And they meant it.

Yeah, well, they didn't get hit

on the back of the head
with a piece of pipe.

Forget those hoods for now, Joe.

We'll... we'll track 'em down.

Yeah, you make it sound
like next year's business.

When?

When the FBI tells me.

How do I know?

Hey, uh...

they had a message for me, too,

for my whole department,
and they had my boss deliver it:

Hands off.

You think I like that
any more than you do?

Oh, that-that-that's beautiful.

All right, laugh,
but I've got my orders

and now you've got yours.

You're off the Anderson case

and you'll stay off
because you'll get no more help

from me or from the feds.

You're solo a-against a
brand-new roughhouse syndicate.

Now stay alive!

Get some rest.

See that he does, Peggy.

Yeah, Peggy, have we got
a phone number on Woody?

Woody?

Yeah, Woody Blaine.

We did him a favor a couple
of times and softened a rap.

Maybe he'll return the favor
and get us a line

on where Danny O'Meara's
holed up.

Joe, for heaven's sake, didn't
you hear what Art just said?

Yeah.

He can't help us anymore.

Woody Blaine--
see if you can get him.

Joe, he said
you're off the Anderson case.

Yeah, so did Anderson...

and I'll tell you
what I told him.

My client is Mrs. Anderson.

I don't care what
the fingerprint record said.

The man in that house
is not my husband.

All right, Mrs. Anderson.

And you can think
what you want about me--

That I'm sick, scheming,
crazy, or anything.

All I can tell you is that
when you've lived with a man

as long as I did with Penn,
you know.

That's all I want to talk about,
Mrs. Anderson--

When you were living with him--
that and nothing more.

I'm sorry, I...

I, uh, made a few inquiries--

Some people who have known you.

I get the idea that lately
there had been some problems

between you and your husband.

I guess you could say that.

Did it have anything to do
with certain of his associates?

Associates?

Yes, associates
you didn't approve of,

members of a... syndicate.

Why are you holding back,
Mrs. Anderson?

Better yet, why didn't
you tell me this from the start?

I hoped it wouldn't get
to that...

and I'd sworn
I wouldn't say anything.

About what?

Penn's deal with the FBI.

They promised him immunity

if he'd fly to Washington
to testify to what he knew.

Well, that would explain
the phony name.

What?

Oh, on the flight he used
the name Martin Thompson.

Yes, but there was the crash.

He never got there.

And when he did get back home,
he wasn't your husband...

or so you thought.

He is not my husband.

I don't know who he is, but...

...he isn't my husband.

Then, why shield him?

I mean, what do you care?

I was... All those people
he was dealing with,

I was frightened of them!

I still am!

And you're still a little, uh,
confused, aren't you?

Wouldn't you be?

Mrs. Anderson,
have you, uh, mentioned

to the man in
your house the syndicate

or his trip to Washington?

Oh, yes.

What'd he say?

He said that he had no
connection with any syndicate.

He had nothing to confess,
no immunity was necessary.

He was on a real estate deal,
this is all in my imagination.

Excuse me. Mr. Mannix?

Yes?
There's a phone call for you.

Excuse me.

It's a Mr. Woody Blaine,
I think.

Thank you.
Uh-huh.

Yeah, Woody?

Okay, Joe...

with a little help from some
pals who owe me,

I got Danny O'Meara
pinned down for you.

Nice going.

Not so nice.
It's trouble, Joe.

Walk away from this.
Why?

Danny's a bad scene.

You know, he never was what
you'd call a stand-up guy,

but well, the word now is
he's scared stiff.

That means he'll talk.

Look, it means he could also
blow your head off

without thinking once.

Look, Joe, I'm trying to get
this over to you.

Woody, I'm short on time.

You asked for it.

Okay, I'll give you the layout.

You know where Danny's trying
to stay clean?

Sanitation plant near
the airport.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

No, no, Mannix, listen
I couldn't help it!

They made me! No, please!

You're rattling in
your boots, Danny!

You that scared of me?
I don't buy it.

Don't buy it!
Buy what you want!

The cops, huh?

No, they put you in
that big a spin?

I don't buy that either, Danny.
It's your own people, isn't it?

Okay. Okay, they're on my
tail... or they will be.

I couldn't help it.

Buy, buy what you want, Mannix.

I couldn't help it.
They're on my tail!

I couldn't help it!

Because you blew it for them
twice, didn't you, Danny?

Outside the hospital
and the other night

when you lost your mask.

Yeah, yeah, you, you saw me.
You recognized me.

They found out.

You don't know these guys,
Mannix.

You don't know them!

Suppose you tell me!

Are you crazy?!

Now we talk, you get protection.

That's what you want, isn't it?

You think you can give it to me?

Yeah.

You can stay under wraps
at my place,

or a cozy little cell
in the slammer.

Penn Anderson--
your people found out

about his trip to Washington,
didn't they?

Yeah, yeah, they found...
they found out all right.

They... they knew
that if he sang,

heads would roll,
so they had a hit man

all set to knock him off when...
when he got there.

But he didn't get there.

The plane went down,

and they thought
they were in the clear.

Then what does the chump do?

He comes back to life.

And I do mean chump.

Why is that, Danny?

Well, he s...

He sends them word
that he's changed his mind.

He ain't gonna sing after all.

And they say
that's fine and dandy, and...

...that they forgive and forget,

and he thinks
that's fine and dandy.

Do you want to guess
what will happen to Anderson

the first time
they get him alone?

Yeah, I was coming
to that, Danny.

Exactly who are they?

You mean names?

Right.

The... the big brass?

Yeah.

Running the thing?
Yeah.

And do you think
they'd let me know?

If you do, you're as big a chump
as Anderson.

No, Mannix.

I'm a bag of bones.

They'll bury me anytime
they want to,

and I still won't know
who they are.

Mr. Mannix, your secretary
did reach you then.

Mm. What's happened,
Mrs. Anderson?

Well, Penn took my car keys.

I mean, that man took them
sometime this morning.

An extra set that I keep.

He's the only one
who could have.

There were no servants around.

What do you make of it?

I mean,
there's another car-- his.

Why take my car keys?

Are you sure he hasn't left
the house since the hospital?

No, I'd swear to it.

So that would make
his first unannounced trip out

pretty special, wouldn't it?

I... I suppose so.

Now, maybe he wants your car

because
it wouldn't be recognized

as Penn Anderson's car.

In other words, it wouldn't be
so readily followed.

He couldn't use it now
in any case.

I drove it here.

Told him I had some errands,
but he wasn't concerned.

If he was so anxious
to keep from being spotted,

he probably won't need your car
until well after dark.

Now, that would give you time

to get it back for him,
wouldn't it?

You... You mean,
you want me to do that?

Must be very important to him.

I want to know why.

Now, if it's all right
with you, Mrs. Anderson,

I'd like to put an electronic
gadget on your car.

Okay.

Penn!

Glad to see you.

Harry.
Glad you could make it.

Sam.
Make it?

Look at him.
He could have walked here.

Well, just so long
as it wasn't desert.

I've had about enough of that.

You came in your wife's car, eh?

Yup. I did everything
you told me.

Hi, Nick.

I'm sure nobody's following me.
Ah, good.

Scotch on the rocks,
right, Penn?

You have a good memory.

Well, in this business, it pays.

Remember everything.

Admit... nothing.

Put a rock in there, will you?

Cheers.

Over here, Penn.

Let's all be comfortable.

How board meetings ought
to be, right?

Right.

Although |, uh, must admit,

I never realized
I was a member of this board.

Well, now, the job
you're doing for us--

The financial work--
certainly entitles you to.

Ah,

You don't know
how relieved we were

to hear
you were coming back to us.

And you don't know, Harry,

how much pressure
those Feds put on me.

But I'll tell you this.

I never had any intention
of ever going on that stand.

Not in a million years.

Oh, that's fine, Penn.

And that reminds me
of one other thing

that pays off in this business,
uh, besides memory.

You know what it is?

Loyalty.

You got a clumsy cat, Nick.

Well, he don't see so good
in the dark, either.

No matter what they say
in the books.

But he's got loyalty,

believe me,
just like, uh, Penn here.

At least up to a point.

What do you mean?

What I mean is...

there comes a time
when everything--

Dogs, cats, anybody--

Everything has a breaking point.

Now, wait a minute.

I told you
I never had any intention

of going on that stand.

I came to that conclusion
on that airplane.

But you were on your way,

weren't you?

What about next time?

What next time?

When they come at you again.

Oh, they're bound to, you know.

Who's to say you're not going
to cr*ck wide open

and stay that way?

No.

Oh, come on, Penn.

I said it myself.

A guy's just human.

He can take only so much.

But it's never going
to be that way,

because you have my word on it.

But look what would happen
if it did, Penn.

Take me, for instance.

Samuel Vincent Imports, Limited.

A nice, new thriving business.

Except they find out
it ain't so much Oriental rattan

as it is narcotics.

Now I ask you,

what does that do for me?

I'm not just thinking of myself.

Solar Investment.
How about that?

Harry, I told you
you were moving too fast.

He's moved all the way
out of loan sharking.

We've made a switch lately,
Penn.

Nick here is running Solar now.

Harry's taken over
the prostitution end.

Offshore Enterprises.

We know you wouldn't want to do
anything to wreck any of that,

any more than we'd want you to.

No.

In a way, Penn,
you know what it is?

It's a question of your being
saved from yourself.

So, you see, we don't seem
to have very much choice.

You understand that.

By the way, Penn,

did you ever have a look
at, uh, my stables?

I'd like to show them to you.

Freeze!

Hey.

Don't move anyone!

You okay?

Thanks to my insurance agent.

Mannix, you don't think much
of orders, do you?

You could have blown
this whole case!

Mrs. Anderson.

Yes.

I'd-I'd like you
to meet Fred Belford.

He's with the FBI.

Uh, Mrs. Anderson,

I would like you to know
how very much I regret

everything
I had to put you through.

And I speak for the entire
bureau when I say that.

But you see,
there was a question

of protecting you,
as well as the case.

Oh, it...

It is a relief.

A great one, I suppose, but...

Well, you see, Mrs. Anderson,

when your husband went
down with the plane,

the government's case
went with him.

They had to try and
pick it up and...

with a man that just might
substitute as your husband.

I'm sure Mr. Belford
could tell you

what kind of machinery
that called for.

Well, for openers,
we had to put a news blackout

on the actual first sighting
of the crash scene

until I could get
started on my trek.

Then they had to arrange to
cover me all the way...

To say nothing of
Washington sending back

the identification
of your fingerprints.

Yes, and it worked.

It-It actually worked,
Mrs. Anderson.

We've learned everything that
your husband would have told us.

I, uh... hope that...

that can be some
sort of comfort to you.

I'd like to think that it would
have been a comfort to Penn.

That it wasn't just
fear or pressures

that sent him on that trip.

He wanted to do
the right thing...

to make a clean start.

I'd like to think that.

I'd keep thinking about that,
Mrs. Anderson.

I'm sure it's true.