04x17 - Simon Without Simon: Part 2
Posted: 01/11/24 08:11
♪♪ [theme]
[Announcer] Last week
on Simon and Simon...
- Come on, hurry it up.
- Got it.
Well, if it's his, I guess we
probably ought to give it to him.
When you realized that
you had suddenly become
in a very real sense
soldiers in the Cold w*r?
But remember, once
you've been alive at 5,
hold on to your hat size.
Oh, Mr. Simon, is there
any truth to the rumor
that your agency
is leaving San Diego
for a bigger city?
We want you to head
up our San Diego office.
$100,000.
I... I'm not a writer.
- Why me?
- You're a hero.
I'm going to buy you a drink.
- I am buying...
- I'm gonna buy you a drink!
Rick and I have decided
that what each of us needs
is no longer what
both of us need.
Million bucks.
Absolutely. Oh.
Gentlemen,
let me start by saying
how happy I am to be here.
I've come up with a better way
to discredit Rick and
A.J. Simon's testimony.
You'd better hurry.
With what I'm working on,
they won't be appearing at all.
[A.J. laughs]
Whoop, whoop,
whoop, whoop, whoop.
Hmm.
[siren blaring]
[police radio chatter]
Any fire from the house?
sh**ting ended just as
we drove up, Lieutenant.
The last blast was
about a minute ago.
Let's get some
more light up there.
Get some more light
up there. Light it up.
Good.
Move those people
back. Get them back.
Move them back.
Move those people back.
A.J., Rick, this is Town!
Are you in there?
Okay. Low and slow,
everybody. Low and slow.
Rick! A.J.!
Anybody here?
[A.J.] Careful, Town.
They're on the patio.
No, I'm on the patio,
along with half the San
Diego Police Department.
Where the hell are you?
[Rick] Uh, I for one
am under the sofa...
I think.
[A.J.] I'm under the table.
Did you give the all clear yet?
Check the canal
and across the bridge.
Yes, sir.
[Policeman] You
heard the lieutenant.
Check the canal first,
and then fan out
across the bridge.
Why didn't you answer me before?
I wasted a lot of
adrenaline out there.
Uh, we didn't know
if they were watching
to see if we moved.
I want to talk. Are
you... Are you hurt?
No b*llet holes.
I got to stop mixing
single malt whiskey
and machine g*n fire.
I got a horrendous headache.
[laughing]
- You're wet.
- Yep.
And both of you are loaded.
Fried to the gills.
Corked to the eyeballs.
This isn't funny, guys.
Well, it might not
be to you, Town,
but to us it's damn miraculous.
I mean, look at this place.
Somebody sprayed
enough lead in here
to as*ault a small
Caribbean island,
and we're still alive.
- And even pleasantly drunk.
- [A.J.] Yeah.
Ooh, boy.
I'll bet this is going to
jack up your insurance.
Can't go it any good.
Huh. Insurance. Cute.
Well... I'm getting real tired
of how cute you've been lately.
This was supposed to
be a m*rder... your m*rder.
I'm sorry.
I've got a lot of terrorized
neighbors out there
and a lot of questions.
I'd like some answers.
Well, we never even saw 'em.
We never even got off a sh*t.
Hey, Lieutenant, we found
a w*apon and some clips.
We also have a man down.
- What?
- What do you mean down?
sh*t. Unconscious.
Losing a lot of blood.
Out there on the bridge.
I called the meat wagon.
g*ns, please.
Look, Town, they jumped us.
We never even saw a target.
You were at the scene
of a felony sh**ting,
and there are a
lot of cops around.
Give me your g*ns.
Any identification on
the man, Sergeant?
No, he's clean.
But I recognize him.
Bobby Williams.
One of the guys these
two hotshots busted.
[Rick] Everybody had
to be sh**ting at once.
Had to be five, six
weapons at least.
[A.J.] Not six. Maybe four.
Rick's exaggerating a little.
[Town] Danger Man
exaggerate? No.
The point is there
was more than one.
- There had to be.
- Why?
Because he's sh*t,
and we didn't sh**t him.
There's the brave
Captain Midnight.
He's got the duty. Hiya, Raj.
Oh, no, no, no. Oh, my
goodness gosh, this is terrible.
Dead relations?
Mm. Well, that is karma for you.
The heart... what a pesky organ.
Well, there's only
one thing to do...
Send the children to a movie
and shut off the pump.
Yes. Do not quibble.
Mm. Goodbye.
You lose one, Raj?
One? Good gracious,
no. Hundreds.
Guppies. My wife was
putting a light in the t*nk,
and she k*lled them. Zzzt!
She does not
understand electricity.
- Ricky, my friend.
- Raj.
- Lieutenant Brown.
- Raj.
- A.J.
- Hi.
- [Nurse] Dr. Raj?
- Your doing?
- No, no, no.
- No, no.
- It's under investigation.
- No.
Oh. Nasty, nasty, nasty. Mm.
Oh, dear. Dear me. Hmm.
Vishnu, Vishnu, Vishnu.
- Is he going to make it, Raj?
- I should say,
although I'm a bit concerned
he has lost consciousness.
His wound is not that severe.
Can you save the
b*llet for us, Raj?
We'll need it to prove a point.
I'm sorry, Ricky.
There will be no b*llet.
It went in, it went out.
- Oh, swell.
- Saves me some work.
Let's go, guys. Let
him do his work.
We got to ask Raj
a couple more...
Let's go. We got an
investigation going here.
- Geez.
- Okay, Town.
Hey, don't you think
you're pushing the cop
thing a little far tonight?
If you don't want
us talking to Raj,
what did you bring
us in here for?
- Blood tests.
- For what?
For what do you think?
Intoxication and
manslaughter go together
like a hand in glove.
Seeing how you can't
help yourselves these days,
I'm going to have to
lead you by the hand.
- What does that mean?
- His lawyer's Austin Tyler,
who does the huck-a-buck
with the best of them.
- Huck-a-buck?
- Yeah.
Now look, guys, the
least he's going to do
is challenge your competence,
so volunteer for the blood tests
like you've got nothing to hide.
Hey, look, let me
explain something to you.
Williams sh*t first.
I mean, he did all the sh**ting.
Well, I mean he didn't
do exactly all the sh**ting,
- but he did most...
- We'll take the blood test.
Uh, listen to your brother.
No, wait. I can explain this.
May I?
You look b*at.
Busy?
Oh, we've had a
boatload tonight.
Hectic. I can assure you,
When the moon is full,
it's difficult to tell
what is accidental
and what is transcendental.
- How's Williams?
- Oh, not bad at all.
A very clean sh*t
through the fatty roll here.
Struck no bone.
They said he bled
heavily. Very curious.
It is not a bleeding wound.
Any idea what kind of a g*n?
No. Small caliber.
Could the wound
have been self-inflicted?
No, no, no. No powder smudge,
no tattooing from the
discharge, no wadding.
No, the b*llet came from
farther away than this,
most definitely.
Well,
either one of his
cohorts was a rotten sh*t,
or he got double-crossed.
With this moon,
anything can happen.
Oh.
Want to sack out at my
place for a couple of hours?
Yeah, I guess.
I'm supposed to
meet Talbot later.
I thought you said you
were trashing the book.
No, I said the book was trash,
and you weren't
supposed to hear that.
You can worry about
a book right now?
You going to quit the agency?
I've thought about it.
And rejected it because
nothing's changed.
You know as well as I do
what happened last night, A.J.
We got careless.
They tried to shut us up,
and one of them
got caught at it.
They raised the stakes,
but they still lose the game.
Well, maybe,
but I got a funny
feeling if things...
- Oh.
- Oh, geez.
As the saga unreels,
Rick and A.J. Simon,
lucky today just to be alive.
Sally, I got a really
bad hangover.
Would you turn that thing off?
We're dragging cans.
Just catch us later, all right?
It seems Dame Fortune
has plans for these men,
and we can only watch
and wait, wondering.
What the hell are
you talking about?
Sally, we have nothing to say
that the press wants
to hear this morning.
I do. You know, you're beginning
to wear just a little
thin on me, Sally.
- [crackling in distance]
- No matter what happens,
you'll sandwich it
between commercials
and put little words under it
saying "The worst
is yet to come."
- Get out of my way.
- Rick, something's going on.
Uh, I thought perhaps
you might want to publicly
deny your involvement?
Why should I deny
involvement? In what?
How should I know? The
FBI isn't searching my house.
People, you're trespassing.
Now, you want to get
busted for it, stick around.
I am justified in using
force to get rid of you.
Turn that damn thing off.
Hey.
Hey, what's going on?
What are you doing?
Mr. Simon?
I'm David Kinney.
I'm with the Justice Department.
They thought enough of your case
to fly me all the way out
here from Washington.
Well, you're just
about to fly back, pal.
It's 6:00 in the morning.
Just what's going on here?
It's a search.
Wait a minute.
Let's back up again.
You said our case?
Fox and Williams.
You're scheduled to
give Grand Jury testimony
for me on Tuesday.
- It's my baby.
- But why a search warrant?
The last I heard, we were
on your wise, not theirs.
Something's out of focus here.
That's one way of putting it.
We, uh, we found these
in the refrigerator drip tray,
stereo speaker,
lamp base, toilet t*nk.
Any more we haven't found?
I suppose these
are the same gizmos
that Fox and Williams
were smuggling.
Well, more of the same.
But I'm not sure who was
smuggling what any longer.
We'll talk about that.
Who'd you say was
losing the game?
Bobby.
The government man is here.
The Federal Prosecutor.
Bobby, this is Mr. Kinney.
If you're totally
honest with him,
he thinks we can come
to an arrangement.
Yes, Williams, as I've
explained here to your attorney,
even though there are
serious overtones of
national security here,
I think we can
probably deal down
to a change of
industrial espionage.
You'll still have to pay a fine
and serve maybe
six months in jail,
but we give you immunity
on both m*rder attempts.
It's called general immunity.
It's a very good offer.
Okay.
But they take the fall, right?
- Who?
- Rick and A.J. Simon.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
Boy, I wish they'd
check their facts.
Listen to this.
Uh, ba ba ba ba...
Uh, "sh*t by one of
the Simon brothers
"during a midnight
exchange of fire,
police sources suggest."
Well, suggestions aren't facts,
and sources aren't
people you can blame.
That's how they work it.
Yeah. We put it
all on ourselves.
What?
We did. This is paying the piper
for all those nice pieces
they wrote about us before.
We can't complain now.
Yes, we can.
We can expect them
to get the story straight.
I want the Grand
Jury to believe me
when I tell them that those
microchips were planted in here.
I won't have to deny
stories in the press.
Why should I want to deny
my involvement? In what?
[Sally] How should I know?
The FBI isn't
searching my house.
You people are trespassing.
Now, if you want
to get busted for it,
just stick around.
You know I'm justified
in using force to get...
Turn that damn thing off.
[Sally] And, as so often happens
in our changing world,
have the heroes
become villains again?
Perhaps they are
only innocent victims.
But, as now seems more likely,
perhaps they are
much more involved
than we know.
Get out of my way.
[Sally] This morning,
Judge Warren Trask
dropped charges
against Sonny Fox.
And Federal
Prosecutor David Kinney
hints at a damning
new confession
from Bobby Williams,
implicating both
Rick and A.J. Simon.
This is Sally Edwards reporting
from the U.S. Court
House in San Diego.
Nice touch, that last.
It's always effective
to invoke the scales of justice,
whether or not justice
has anything to do with it.
Hmm. Well, you'd know
more about that than I would.
Anyway, thanks for the story.
No thanks required.
Just to satisfy my
personal curiosity,
do you feel any
conflict of interest
giving me that story?
What did I give you?
It looks as though Rick
and A.J. Simon are dirty
and Williams was
in there with them,
and I get Williams
a light sentence.
Those are just facts.
Now how do you feel?
You're the main reason
those two are local heroes.
Slow news day.
Mm-hmm.
But you're already
starting to destroy them.
It doesn't bother you?
Frankly, the news
business bores me.
It doesn't offer as many,
uh, opportunities as I'd hoped.
I want something international,
something with travel.
You said you know people?
Oh, yes.
I know people.
Uh, right here.
- Sorry I'm late.
- Hey.
Things are getting really
weird with Fox and Williams.
But I think I may have a
new way to open Chapter 2.
Rick, uh, we saw the papers.
- Want a pita?
- No. No, thanks. I can't stay.
Listen, uh, we think
that their lawyers
came up with this
whole frame against us
just in order to confuse
the issue, you know?
If things get confusing enough,
we'll just forget about it.
Ahem.
Uh, I didn't have
time to polish this.
How far did you get?
"The big one moved
like a Patton t*nk
and smelled like a bear pit."
What does a bear pit smell like?
Well, you know, awful.
Like a bear...
in a... in a... in a pit.
Like a bear that's been
in a pit for a long time.
Look, you guys can change it.
Yeah, look, Rick,
I really like what
you've done here,
but, uh, I can't use it.
It's too honest.
Rick, the public is
in no mood for truth.
Real as it may be,
who wants to think about
what a bear
smells like in a pit?
Life is bad enough.
We can lose it.
Yeah, but it's all like that.
Everything you write
smells like something,
feels like something.
It's... I don't know.
- It's, uh...
- Garbage.
That's not the word I
was going to use, but, uh,
it's really worse than garbage.
It's boring garbage
nobody wants to read.
Ahem.
But I got another angle to try.
Now don't jump at this, okay?
Just let it sink in.
One of my clients, a producer,
wants to package a
project around you,
and he's very hot.
Morty Glaspiegel.
Spiders From Mars.
Yes. But that's
only representative
of his early films.
1983 is early?
Wait a minute. He's much
more mainstream now.
He's about to come
out with something
that's really very exciting...
Reggae Down Death Row.
It's an extended music video.
I don't think I'm following you.
Well, look, instead of a book,
you write a screenplay
from inside the prison,
as an inmate. I don't
think it's been done.
What makes you think
I'm going to go to jail?
Rick, Rick, it doesn't matter
to me what you've done
ultimately. Whatever they
can prove, I'm an agent.
I sell it. I don't
smell it. Okay?
Look, you get
convicted, you go in,
you give us the panache
of being a prisoner,
Morty puts together a
bunch of original songs.
That I can sell.
What are you doing, Ricky?
Hey, really, come on...
Enjoy your lunch, guys.
Did you get that?
Hello, Miss Hemmings.
Oh, good afternoon.
Mrs. Ferguson is in there.
She insisted on staying,
even though I told her you're
no longer handling her case.
Of course I'm still
handling her case.
Where'd you get
the idea I wasn't?
Mr. Trowbridge, of course.
Hi, Mrs. Ferguson.
Oh, my God.
Hey, call an ambulance.
Didn't you see her face?
Didn't you think she
needed some help?
If I were you, Mr. Simon,
I wouldn't worry about the
way I'm handling my job.
Call a doctor now.
Come sit down.
Did your husband do this to you?
He saw you last night
outside the restaurant.
He... He saw you
at the motel before.
I guess he went crazy
when he realized I
was having him followed.
I didn't do a very
good job of it. I'm sorry.
He started calling, saying
he was coming over to get me.
I tried to reach you.
Your house, here...
even the, uh, old office.
By then it was too late.
He didn't leave
till this morning.
He was there a long time.
Well, now we can
have him arrested.
If you can find him.
Betty has a point.
Don't worry. I'm not going
anywhere, Mrs. Ferguson.
Stay right here.
We got a situation, Simon?
You're damn right we do.
This lady has been in my office
for over an hour.
Nobody called. Nobody
offered to help her.
You're up to your
eye teeth in trouble.
They brought a big
chuffa-chuffa in from D.C.
to lock you in the ice house.
His name's Kinney.
I met him. He hasn't got a case.
He's getting one.
You know what they
call him back there?
The stiletto.
He's going to stick
a legal needle in you.
Now, one idea that I've got
is to lose you around
the Persian Gulf
for around six months.
We got a number of big contracts
with some oil sheikhs there.
How's that sound?
Unnecessary. I quit.
That's good, too.
Lieutenant Brown,
I'm David Kinney.
What do you want to know?
Well, first of all,
why no charges?
The other guys sh*t first.
Guys?
There's an
interesting assumption.
We'll get back to that.
What about the blood tests?
Rick and A.J. Simon
were both drunk
when one of them sh*t Williams.
Now you're making assumptions...
1, that you and I
agree what drunk is,
2 that you and I agree
that you sh*t him.
But you will agree
that, with their
blood alcohol level,
had they been caught driving,
they would have been arrested.
I don't get the point.
Sure you do.
Right now they make better
suspects than witnesses.
Their story's as muddy
as a cow pasture in May.
Did they sh**t
Williams, or didn't they?
Was he alone, or
were they in it with him?
And who hid the
microchips in the house?
Grand Juries don't like
that many questions.
They don't like any.
I had a tight little case
against Fox and Williams.
I got a better one
against Simon and Simon.
You gave their g*ns back?
The 357 was fully loaded,
but it had been fired.
A.J. was at a practice
range the day before.
That much he can prove.
Was there a paraffin test?
No. Why?
He was sh**ting targets.
Was Williams
alone, like he says,
or part of a group,
like they say?
We found nothing that
proves he has company.
We found one machine p*stol,
eight magazines,
30 rounds per mag,
and about this much brass.
The other guys could
have had brass sketches
over the ejectors.
Why? How about
the hits on the house?
About 200.
The other guys could
have been f*ring in the air.
Why?
Why invent a reason
when you don't need one...
when it's so much
easier to believe
that Williams acted alone?
You know, I get
the distinct feeling
you don't like talking
about the Simon case.
Is that what you're
calling it now?
It's shaping up like that.
I'm a local cop.
You're Palladin...
Out of town g*n.
You're like a big
strange beetle.
People want to
look at you close up,
so you've been going to a
lot of cocktail parties and stuff.
Get a sample of your
own blood alcohol.
Rick and A.J. are
friends of mine,
so I'll be watching you
up close and personal.
You step out of line,
and you can get real lost.
Is that a thr*at?
I'm not speaking English?
Yeah. That's a thr*at.
Rick? How'd you get in? I
thought we gave our keys...
Oh.
Take a load off.
What is all this stuff?
Just what it
says... Toilet paper.
Guess they're using the
old office as a store room
until they can rent it.
Toilet paper.
That's...
That's demeaning.
Why? It's not our
office anymore.
It's an empty room.
Did we say we were
going to meet here?
No.
I guess we were just
on the same wavelength.
I was out wandering around.
This seemed like a logical place
to stop wandering.
Yeah.
Mrs. Ferguson's husband
b*at her up last night.
Geez. She all right?
She's got a lot of deep bruises.
Some loose teeth.
Needed some stitches.
There's no broken bones.
Gee.
I stayed with her
at the hospital,
and then I took her over to
the Chester Street Hostel.
She'll be safe there.
[sigh]
I really screwed up this time.
We screwed up.
[sigh]
I just been lying here
trying to think like
a smart raccoon.
Okay, I give up.
Well, let's say you're
a smart raccoon.
You think you're
pretty good at it.
For years now,
you've made your living
snatching the
cheese out of a trap.
You know you can do it.
You look at the cheese,
and then you look at the trap.
You get your paw
right out there to it.
You get real Zen with it.
And just when you
think you cannot miss,
wham.
You get your leg
busted in a trap.
A farmer comes along and
smashes you in the head
because as smart
as a raccoon can get,
he's really dumb.
If he were smart,
he'd stay away from
the trap altogether.
You know what I said earlier
about... what each of us needs
is no longer what
both of us need?
Yeah.
- It's not true.
- It never was.
Well...
Want to try opening
up the agency again
on a limited basis?
Clients?
Well, the first thing we do
is we take Mrs. Ferguson back.
Mm-hmm.
After that...
I know a couple of brothers
who could use some help.
Stay away from the older one.
He's dumber than a red brick.
The young one ain't no genius.
To purposely inflict yourself
with a grievous g*n wound...
Oh, what a thing.
And more importantly, why?
Tyler wanted Williams'
story to sound convincing.
People tend to believe a man
if he's got a
b*llet hole in him.
But we didn't put
that hole there.
And you don't give
a g*n to your friend
and then say "Take
your best sh*t."
You got to have somebody
who's an expert marksman
and somebody
who knows a little bit
about the human body.
Yes, most assuredly.
And a very tricky business.
The g*n must be positioned so.
The body, mm, so.
Precise point of
entry calculated.
That would explain quite a lot.
What would it explain?
Well, the sedative, for one.
You were drinking last night,
but Mr. Williams was
much closer to Nirvana.
- Drugged?
- Loaded.
Berythium, a
prescription depressant.
Something a surgeon
would use, not an addict.
Also, there is a
question of his blood loss.
It was reportedly heavy,
but his pressure was good.
Would he need an
operating theater
and a surgical team?
No, no, no, just a
well-equipped office.
So they rigged it.
What did they do, get a
surgeon to sh**t the guy?
All you need's a
marksman to sh**t him,
but a surgeon standing by.
Yeah, to keep him drugged,
wait for us to get home,
spill a little fresh
blood on the bridge.
Such a naughty thing.
How do you find
a doctor to do this?
Yellow Pages?
[Raj] Mm. I don't think
it would be a specialist.
No. Mm. I would say someone
in general surgical practice.
Him, yes.
Hmm. Possibly him.
I figure Williams' lawyer must
have had enough leverage
- to force somebody.
- Leverage?
Yeah. Tyler handles a lot
of medical malpractice suits.
Are not such
things confidential?
Any penetration?
Breach of perimeter?
Alien presence?
- Speak up.
- We ain't seen anybody.
- Who are you?
- Ultra Prompt.
We received a
silent alarm at 11852.
Oh. Oh. We had
a light downstairs.
- What have you been doing?
- Climbing the stairs.
[beeping]
No intrusion.
No intrusion.
[beeping increases]
Ah.
We've got a circuit
overload, station 9.
Roger that. They want
us to sweep it anyway.
Electrostatic discharge.
Roger.
Excuse me.
[beeping]
No.
We won't be able to get
a clean sweep of
you guys in there.
Too much polyester
in your uniforms.
Tsk.
We'll take it from here.
Better go back
down to the lobby,
head off the cops. I
hate these false alarms.
We'll reset.
Thank you, guys.
Okay. Uh, malpractice,
malpractice.
Malpractice, master cross index.
[police siren in distance]
Okay, also look for
Fox and Williams,
Kemper Electronics,
and, uh, the truck driver
who had his load of
microchips stolen...
John Nathan.
Oh, that's sweet.
Whoo.
Comes in brown, red, green,
any color you want.
How did we ever survive
before they invented
these things?
Come in.
You know, when
I joined the force,
I knew I was going to be
in for long, strange hours.
My mama said I might as
well become a jazz drummer.
Ha ha. I laughed.
If I was a drummer,
I'd be asleep now
because when I
got off at 2, I'd be off.
Someone is trying to put
our necks in a noose, Town.
We need your help
to follow the rope.
All right, this is
Williams talking
from his statement
to David Kinney.
Uh... You're not
supposed to have that.
That's a Grand Jury
deposition there.
Why do you think we stole it?
Would you just stop wagging
your finger for a minute and listen?
Geez.
Uh... Uh, yeah.
"I stole that Kemper
truck from a truck stop.
"I found that Fox guy
"working maintenance
at the dock.
"I didn't know him before.
"I paid him from the
money that they gave me
"and put the
microchips on the ship.
They had already worked
everything out with the captain."
- Who's they?
- Us.
He claims we engineered
the whole thing.
He claims we hired
him for a one sh*t
and then double-crossed him.
He admits to trying to
strangle me in the parking lot,
and he admits to
ambushing us here,
but he claims he
was acting alone
and we sh*t him.
In return for his testimony,
Kinney dropped both charges.
Sure. Tyler worked it real nice.
Yeah, one of his
clients gets off free,
the other one gets a
much lighter sentence.
There's no substitute for a
cop's mind, you know that?
Williams probably
agreed to a bonus
for taking the rap
and doing the time.
That's easy to see.
Yeah, the old way.
The real way, Kinney has a
weak and a confused case,
and he probably could lose it.
What's he got now?
Oh, a much easier case to win,
wrapped up neat...
A one-time heist instead
of an ongoing operation
and a witness who
fingered the brains... you.
I guess that's why you sh*t him.
- Yep.
- But we didn't sh**t him.
- But you can't prove it.
- We can try.
Dr. Rooney.
Hi, Dr. Rooney.
I'm Frank Bacon.
This is Chris Marlowe.
We're with the Surgeon
General's office.
What?
I hate to disturb you
away from the office,
but we'd like to get your
side of the Williams thing.
Excuse me.
Well, we're not in the business
of excusing unethical practice.
We simply punish it.
We'll see how ready
you are to thr*aten me
when we're not alone.
No threats, just facts.
Two days ago, you
sh*t Bobby Williams.
Where it wouldn't
do much harm...
You know, right around in here.
And then, when he came
up out of the general,
uh, you froze the wound
and pumped Mr. Williams
full of depressants.
As long as he got to a hospital
in a decent amount
of time, he'd be fine.
Good work. He's fine.
Look, I'm going to call
the Surgeon General
and really fix you.
Okay, but shouldn't
you call your lawyer,
call Austin Tyler first?
There's no reason for you
to take the blame alone.
You're damn right
I'm going to call Tyler.
You know, Rooney...
There is a way
out of this for you.
How big is that malpractice?
I'm sure you know.
And Tyler thinks he can win.
Of course, he can always lose.
For him, that's
just lost income.
My hunch is there are some
real ugly angles to this case.
Otherwise, you'd just
get another lawyer.
You're in a spot, Rooney.
You could make it a
lot worse for yourself.
You know, get up there
in front of a federal Grand Jury
and perjure yourself.
Be a party to attempted m*rder.
Now, um, here's the
number of the prosecutor
handling the Williams case.
I hear he's a man
who will make a deal.
Why don't you call
him instead of Tyler?
He just lost about 5 pounds
standing there sweating.
Yeah, but he didn't
admit anything.
Think we can put
the screws to him?
No, I think that's about
as tight as they go
on Dr. Rooney.
Of course, we may
have just lit a fire
under Austin Tyler's feet.
Let them go. I
think they saw us.
Listen to me. We have
to take care of them now.
I know, I know. You
prefer the physical solution,
but I say it's best to
keep them at arm's length.
While they pull your plan apart?
No, no. That won't happen.
The doctor won't say anything,
and we'll check on the
Simon boys tomorrow.
- Relax, will you?
- I relax for just so long,
and then I do something about
what's making me nervous.
I worry about it later.
[Rick] Usually,
when you get down
to the last piece of the puzzle,
you can see
exactly how it all fits.
[A.J.] Maybe he's
not part of the puzzle.
Does he look to you
like the kind of man
who would sell out
his own country?
What do they look like?
I'm telling you, that
is the inside man.
He's been slipping
out the microchips
and fudging his
delivery records.
Williams said
he stole his truck.
He said that after
he got caught.
You only steal a truck
like that once for a job.
They've been losing
microchips for over a year.
[sigh]
Okay, so he's deeply hidden...
What the espionage
types call a moll.
The fact that he still
has a job proves that.
The FBI probably put
him through a sieve
after... after the bust.
Okay, if he's a moll,
he's not going to communicate
directly with anybody.
He's going to use sign
posts and message drops,
all that John le Carré stuff.
Now, if we want him to
open up his pipeline again,
we're going to have
to use his system.
Or come up with a whole new one.
If he's hungry enough,
maybe he'll bite.
Maybe he's not hungry.
Maybe he's motivated
by some personal
belief or philosophy,
something that we
can't tempt him with.
Maybe.
He's probably motivated
by the same thing
as everybody else...
- Money.
- Money.
♪♪ [funk rock]
That's it.
That's the drop.
That's the place he expects
to find the next message.
Or one of the places.
What does it mean to
him when it's empty?
Danger signal?
I don't know.
Chances are he'll check again.
He took the money, he
must be ready to take the risk.
If we're lucky,
he'll just assume that
the system was changed
after the bust.
[knock on door]
Who is it?
It's me. It's John Nathan.
Count to 5, Mr. Nathan,
then come in, close
the door, and sit down.
Don't turn on the light.
What's that for?
Just take your seat. Mr. Nathan.
The light's for your
own protection.
All this hocus pocus. We
never needed it before.
Is that you, Fox?
[speaking fake Russian]
[speaking fake Russian]
Never mind who that is.
You're safer not knowing.
Fox can't make
contact right now...
Not until this last mess
is straightened out.
[speaking fake Russian]
Da, Commissar.
All right, Nathan, the
truth is we're desperate.
We need more Z70
processors, a lot more.
Are you kidding?
I mean, the FBI came to see me.
They're, uh,
watching the stocks.
Nathan.
[Russian accent]
Don't play that game.
We know you can get more.
If you cannot get more...
you are not useful to us.
Are you understand?
Fox never threatened me before.
I don't think I like it.
Very wise.
But we are willing pay.
We pay three times price.
Uh, 75,000?
That's it, Nathan.
Are you in or out?
Uh...
in.
Hail, hail, the g*ng's all here.
It's amazing what
a few well placed
anonymous phone calls will do.
The nice thing
about conspiracies
is that you can trust
everyone not to trust anyone.
Wait.
Looks like Nathan.
Austin! Over here!
What do you want?
- What do I want?
- Yeah.
You called me.
[Man over loudspeaker]
This is the FBI.
Stay where you are.
Put your hands
on top of your head.
You're under arrest.
All right! We're
going up in that plane.
Everybody stay clear.
I'm going to take
the big guy with me.
Come on, Kinney. Come on!
Everyone, keep calm.
[Rick] Uh-oh. It's gone
sour. They got Kinney.
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Wait a minute. What
are you going to do?
If they get Kinney in that
airplane, he's a dead man.
Yeah, but just don't
do anything rash now.
Let me... Let me
think for a minute.
Come on, Rick.
Uh, get in.
- What's the plan?
- I'll think of something.
You, Doctor, in the back seat.
[A.J.] It's over.
Don't be stupid.
[Kinney] Fox, just
surrender to me.
We're coming out.
He gave me his g*n.
All right! All right.
Thanks for the tip.
Stick around. I'll do you next.
Glory time.
Glory time?
Mr. Kinney, as Alice
was heard to say,
curiouser and curiouser.
How did you know
they'd attempt shipment,
this time by air?
Well, I would like to
say it was all hard work,
but truthfully we
received an anonymous tip
just in time for us to
get an undercover agent
here as pilot.
Speaking of just in time,
what about the two men who...
I guess they didn't hear me.
Thank you, Juan.
- Hi, Mom.
- Hi, darling.
- I like it.
- Mm-hmm.
This time it's for keeps.
What a mother
has joined together,
etc., etc., etc.
For now.
But one of these days,
Mom, one of these days,
I'm going to give up.
He's supposed to be
moving us in right now
while I finish up the
Ferguson divorce.
Is he here? No. Of
course not. Rick's late.
I'll tell you another thing.
I'm not going to have my name
on the lease alone anymore.
I'm the one who always ends
up paying for the patched walls.
I'm the one who ends up
paying for the broken desks.
But no more. This
time I've learned better.
A.J., I know it's not
good for me to take sides,
and I've tried not
to with you and Rick,
but when he was in fourth grade
and you were in kindergarten,
I knew you were
older than he was.
You always will be.
Oh. Hi, A.J. How'd the case go?
Uh, Mrs. Ferguson
got the divorce.
Mr. Ferguson got six months.
- Good.
- Where have you been?
- Hi, Mom.
- Hi, darling.
You're in luck.
I got here five of the
world's greatest tostadas.
Went all the way to
Rosarita to get them.
When I woke up, I realized
what the day was for.
Mexican food. Rick,
we're supposed to be
moving into our office today.
It's after noon already.
And you're probably starved,
so see how things work out?
Did you forget about the lease?
You didn't sign that
already, did you?
This man refuses to
accept any responsibility...
Before you split up again,
which way is the
manager's office?
- End of the hall.
- I'm surprised you know.
You're getting on my case again.
You bet I'm getting
on your... ow!
[Announcer] Last week
on Simon and Simon...
- Come on, hurry it up.
- Got it.
Well, if it's his, I guess we
probably ought to give it to him.
When you realized that
you had suddenly become
in a very real sense
soldiers in the Cold w*r?
But remember, once
you've been alive at 5,
hold on to your hat size.
Oh, Mr. Simon, is there
any truth to the rumor
that your agency
is leaving San Diego
for a bigger city?
We want you to head
up our San Diego office.
$100,000.
I... I'm not a writer.
- Why me?
- You're a hero.
I'm going to buy you a drink.
- I am buying...
- I'm gonna buy you a drink!
Rick and I have decided
that what each of us needs
is no longer what
both of us need.
Million bucks.
Absolutely. Oh.
Gentlemen,
let me start by saying
how happy I am to be here.
I've come up with a better way
to discredit Rick and
A.J. Simon's testimony.
You'd better hurry.
With what I'm working on,
they won't be appearing at all.
[A.J. laughs]
Whoop, whoop,
whoop, whoop, whoop.
Hmm.
[siren blaring]
[police radio chatter]
Any fire from the house?
sh**ting ended just as
we drove up, Lieutenant.
The last blast was
about a minute ago.
Let's get some
more light up there.
Get some more light
up there. Light it up.
Good.
Move those people
back. Get them back.
Move them back.
Move those people back.
A.J., Rick, this is Town!
Are you in there?
Okay. Low and slow,
everybody. Low and slow.
Rick! A.J.!
Anybody here?
[A.J.] Careful, Town.
They're on the patio.
No, I'm on the patio,
along with half the San
Diego Police Department.
Where the hell are you?
[Rick] Uh, I for one
am under the sofa...
I think.
[A.J.] I'm under the table.
Did you give the all clear yet?
Check the canal
and across the bridge.
Yes, sir.
[Policeman] You
heard the lieutenant.
Check the canal first,
and then fan out
across the bridge.
Why didn't you answer me before?
I wasted a lot of
adrenaline out there.
Uh, we didn't know
if they were watching
to see if we moved.
I want to talk. Are
you... Are you hurt?
No b*llet holes.
I got to stop mixing
single malt whiskey
and machine g*n fire.
I got a horrendous headache.
[laughing]
- You're wet.
- Yep.
And both of you are loaded.
Fried to the gills.
Corked to the eyeballs.
This isn't funny, guys.
Well, it might not
be to you, Town,
but to us it's damn miraculous.
I mean, look at this place.
Somebody sprayed
enough lead in here
to as*ault a small
Caribbean island,
and we're still alive.
- And even pleasantly drunk.
- [A.J.] Yeah.
Ooh, boy.
I'll bet this is going to
jack up your insurance.
Can't go it any good.
Huh. Insurance. Cute.
Well... I'm getting real tired
of how cute you've been lately.
This was supposed to
be a m*rder... your m*rder.
I'm sorry.
I've got a lot of terrorized
neighbors out there
and a lot of questions.
I'd like some answers.
Well, we never even saw 'em.
We never even got off a sh*t.
Hey, Lieutenant, we found
a w*apon and some clips.
We also have a man down.
- What?
- What do you mean down?
sh*t. Unconscious.
Losing a lot of blood.
Out there on the bridge.
I called the meat wagon.
g*ns, please.
Look, Town, they jumped us.
We never even saw a target.
You were at the scene
of a felony sh**ting,
and there are a
lot of cops around.
Give me your g*ns.
Any identification on
the man, Sergeant?
No, he's clean.
But I recognize him.
Bobby Williams.
One of the guys these
two hotshots busted.
[Rick] Everybody had
to be sh**ting at once.
Had to be five, six
weapons at least.
[A.J.] Not six. Maybe four.
Rick's exaggerating a little.
[Town] Danger Man
exaggerate? No.
The point is there
was more than one.
- There had to be.
- Why?
Because he's sh*t,
and we didn't sh**t him.
There's the brave
Captain Midnight.
He's got the duty. Hiya, Raj.
Oh, no, no, no. Oh, my
goodness gosh, this is terrible.
Dead relations?
Mm. Well, that is karma for you.
The heart... what a pesky organ.
Well, there's only
one thing to do...
Send the children to a movie
and shut off the pump.
Yes. Do not quibble.
Mm. Goodbye.
You lose one, Raj?
One? Good gracious,
no. Hundreds.
Guppies. My wife was
putting a light in the t*nk,
and she k*lled them. Zzzt!
She does not
understand electricity.
- Ricky, my friend.
- Raj.
- Lieutenant Brown.
- Raj.
- A.J.
- Hi.
- [Nurse] Dr. Raj?
- Your doing?
- No, no, no.
- No, no.
- It's under investigation.
- No.
Oh. Nasty, nasty, nasty. Mm.
Oh, dear. Dear me. Hmm.
Vishnu, Vishnu, Vishnu.
- Is he going to make it, Raj?
- I should say,
although I'm a bit concerned
he has lost consciousness.
His wound is not that severe.
Can you save the
b*llet for us, Raj?
We'll need it to prove a point.
I'm sorry, Ricky.
There will be no b*llet.
It went in, it went out.
- Oh, swell.
- Saves me some work.
Let's go, guys. Let
him do his work.
We got to ask Raj
a couple more...
Let's go. We got an
investigation going here.
- Geez.
- Okay, Town.
Hey, don't you think
you're pushing the cop
thing a little far tonight?
If you don't want
us talking to Raj,
what did you bring
us in here for?
- Blood tests.
- For what?
For what do you think?
Intoxication and
manslaughter go together
like a hand in glove.
Seeing how you can't
help yourselves these days,
I'm going to have to
lead you by the hand.
- What does that mean?
- His lawyer's Austin Tyler,
who does the huck-a-buck
with the best of them.
- Huck-a-buck?
- Yeah.
Now look, guys, the
least he's going to do
is challenge your competence,
so volunteer for the blood tests
like you've got nothing to hide.
Hey, look, let me
explain something to you.
Williams sh*t first.
I mean, he did all the sh**ting.
Well, I mean he didn't
do exactly all the sh**ting,
- but he did most...
- We'll take the blood test.
Uh, listen to your brother.
No, wait. I can explain this.
May I?
You look b*at.
Busy?
Oh, we've had a
boatload tonight.
Hectic. I can assure you,
When the moon is full,
it's difficult to tell
what is accidental
and what is transcendental.
- How's Williams?
- Oh, not bad at all.
A very clean sh*t
through the fatty roll here.
Struck no bone.
They said he bled
heavily. Very curious.
It is not a bleeding wound.
Any idea what kind of a g*n?
No. Small caliber.
Could the wound
have been self-inflicted?
No, no, no. No powder smudge,
no tattooing from the
discharge, no wadding.
No, the b*llet came from
farther away than this,
most definitely.
Well,
either one of his
cohorts was a rotten sh*t,
or he got double-crossed.
With this moon,
anything can happen.
Oh.
Want to sack out at my
place for a couple of hours?
Yeah, I guess.
I'm supposed to
meet Talbot later.
I thought you said you
were trashing the book.
No, I said the book was trash,
and you weren't
supposed to hear that.
You can worry about
a book right now?
You going to quit the agency?
I've thought about it.
And rejected it because
nothing's changed.
You know as well as I do
what happened last night, A.J.
We got careless.
They tried to shut us up,
and one of them
got caught at it.
They raised the stakes,
but they still lose the game.
Well, maybe,
but I got a funny
feeling if things...
- Oh.
- Oh, geez.
As the saga unreels,
Rick and A.J. Simon,
lucky today just to be alive.
Sally, I got a really
bad hangover.
Would you turn that thing off?
We're dragging cans.
Just catch us later, all right?
It seems Dame Fortune
has plans for these men,
and we can only watch
and wait, wondering.
What the hell are
you talking about?
Sally, we have nothing to say
that the press wants
to hear this morning.
I do. You know, you're beginning
to wear just a little
thin on me, Sally.
- [crackling in distance]
- No matter what happens,
you'll sandwich it
between commercials
and put little words under it
saying "The worst
is yet to come."
- Get out of my way.
- Rick, something's going on.
Uh, I thought perhaps
you might want to publicly
deny your involvement?
Why should I deny
involvement? In what?
How should I know? The
FBI isn't searching my house.
People, you're trespassing.
Now, you want to get
busted for it, stick around.
I am justified in using
force to get rid of you.
Turn that damn thing off.
Hey.
Hey, what's going on?
What are you doing?
Mr. Simon?
I'm David Kinney.
I'm with the Justice Department.
They thought enough of your case
to fly me all the way out
here from Washington.
Well, you're just
about to fly back, pal.
It's 6:00 in the morning.
Just what's going on here?
It's a search.
Wait a minute.
Let's back up again.
You said our case?
Fox and Williams.
You're scheduled to
give Grand Jury testimony
for me on Tuesday.
- It's my baby.
- But why a search warrant?
The last I heard, we were
on your wise, not theirs.
Something's out of focus here.
That's one way of putting it.
We, uh, we found these
in the refrigerator drip tray,
stereo speaker,
lamp base, toilet t*nk.
Any more we haven't found?
I suppose these
are the same gizmos
that Fox and Williams
were smuggling.
Well, more of the same.
But I'm not sure who was
smuggling what any longer.
We'll talk about that.
Who'd you say was
losing the game?
Bobby.
The government man is here.
The Federal Prosecutor.
Bobby, this is Mr. Kinney.
If you're totally
honest with him,
he thinks we can come
to an arrangement.
Yes, Williams, as I've
explained here to your attorney,
even though there are
serious overtones of
national security here,
I think we can
probably deal down
to a change of
industrial espionage.
You'll still have to pay a fine
and serve maybe
six months in jail,
but we give you immunity
on both m*rder attempts.
It's called general immunity.
It's a very good offer.
Okay.
But they take the fall, right?
- Who?
- Rick and A.J. Simon.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
Boy, I wish they'd
check their facts.
Listen to this.
Uh, ba ba ba ba...
Uh, "sh*t by one of
the Simon brothers
"during a midnight
exchange of fire,
police sources suggest."
Well, suggestions aren't facts,
and sources aren't
people you can blame.
That's how they work it.
Yeah. We put it
all on ourselves.
What?
We did. This is paying the piper
for all those nice pieces
they wrote about us before.
We can't complain now.
Yes, we can.
We can expect them
to get the story straight.
I want the Grand
Jury to believe me
when I tell them that those
microchips were planted in here.
I won't have to deny
stories in the press.
Why should I want to deny
my involvement? In what?
[Sally] How should I know?
The FBI isn't
searching my house.
You people are trespassing.
Now, if you want
to get busted for it,
just stick around.
You know I'm justified
in using force to get...
Turn that damn thing off.
[Sally] And, as so often happens
in our changing world,
have the heroes
become villains again?
Perhaps they are
only innocent victims.
But, as now seems more likely,
perhaps they are
much more involved
than we know.
Get out of my way.
[Sally] This morning,
Judge Warren Trask
dropped charges
against Sonny Fox.
And Federal
Prosecutor David Kinney
hints at a damning
new confession
from Bobby Williams,
implicating both
Rick and A.J. Simon.
This is Sally Edwards reporting
from the U.S. Court
House in San Diego.
Nice touch, that last.
It's always effective
to invoke the scales of justice,
whether or not justice
has anything to do with it.
Hmm. Well, you'd know
more about that than I would.
Anyway, thanks for the story.
No thanks required.
Just to satisfy my
personal curiosity,
do you feel any
conflict of interest
giving me that story?
What did I give you?
It looks as though Rick
and A.J. Simon are dirty
and Williams was
in there with them,
and I get Williams
a light sentence.
Those are just facts.
Now how do you feel?
You're the main reason
those two are local heroes.
Slow news day.
Mm-hmm.
But you're already
starting to destroy them.
It doesn't bother you?
Frankly, the news
business bores me.
It doesn't offer as many,
uh, opportunities as I'd hoped.
I want something international,
something with travel.
You said you know people?
Oh, yes.
I know people.
Uh, right here.
- Sorry I'm late.
- Hey.
Things are getting really
weird with Fox and Williams.
But I think I may have a
new way to open Chapter 2.
Rick, uh, we saw the papers.
- Want a pita?
- No. No, thanks. I can't stay.
Listen, uh, we think
that their lawyers
came up with this
whole frame against us
just in order to confuse
the issue, you know?
If things get confusing enough,
we'll just forget about it.
Ahem.
Uh, I didn't have
time to polish this.
How far did you get?
"The big one moved
like a Patton t*nk
and smelled like a bear pit."
What does a bear pit smell like?
Well, you know, awful.
Like a bear...
in a... in a... in a pit.
Like a bear that's been
in a pit for a long time.
Look, you guys can change it.
Yeah, look, Rick,
I really like what
you've done here,
but, uh, I can't use it.
It's too honest.
Rick, the public is
in no mood for truth.
Real as it may be,
who wants to think about
what a bear
smells like in a pit?
Life is bad enough.
We can lose it.
Yeah, but it's all like that.
Everything you write
smells like something,
feels like something.
It's... I don't know.
- It's, uh...
- Garbage.
That's not the word I
was going to use, but, uh,
it's really worse than garbage.
It's boring garbage
nobody wants to read.
Ahem.
But I got another angle to try.
Now don't jump at this, okay?
Just let it sink in.
One of my clients, a producer,
wants to package a
project around you,
and he's very hot.
Morty Glaspiegel.
Spiders From Mars.
Yes. But that's
only representative
of his early films.
1983 is early?
Wait a minute. He's much
more mainstream now.
He's about to come
out with something
that's really very exciting...
Reggae Down Death Row.
It's an extended music video.
I don't think I'm following you.
Well, look, instead of a book,
you write a screenplay
from inside the prison,
as an inmate. I don't
think it's been done.
What makes you think
I'm going to go to jail?
Rick, Rick, it doesn't matter
to me what you've done
ultimately. Whatever they
can prove, I'm an agent.
I sell it. I don't
smell it. Okay?
Look, you get
convicted, you go in,
you give us the panache
of being a prisoner,
Morty puts together a
bunch of original songs.
That I can sell.
What are you doing, Ricky?
Hey, really, come on...
Enjoy your lunch, guys.
Did you get that?
Hello, Miss Hemmings.
Oh, good afternoon.
Mrs. Ferguson is in there.
She insisted on staying,
even though I told her you're
no longer handling her case.
Of course I'm still
handling her case.
Where'd you get
the idea I wasn't?
Mr. Trowbridge, of course.
Hi, Mrs. Ferguson.
Oh, my God.
Hey, call an ambulance.
Didn't you see her face?
Didn't you think she
needed some help?
If I were you, Mr. Simon,
I wouldn't worry about the
way I'm handling my job.
Call a doctor now.
Come sit down.
Did your husband do this to you?
He saw you last night
outside the restaurant.
He... He saw you
at the motel before.
I guess he went crazy
when he realized I
was having him followed.
I didn't do a very
good job of it. I'm sorry.
He started calling, saying
he was coming over to get me.
I tried to reach you.
Your house, here...
even the, uh, old office.
By then it was too late.
He didn't leave
till this morning.
He was there a long time.
Well, now we can
have him arrested.
If you can find him.
Betty has a point.
Don't worry. I'm not going
anywhere, Mrs. Ferguson.
Stay right here.
We got a situation, Simon?
You're damn right we do.
This lady has been in my office
for over an hour.
Nobody called. Nobody
offered to help her.
You're up to your
eye teeth in trouble.
They brought a big
chuffa-chuffa in from D.C.
to lock you in the ice house.
His name's Kinney.
I met him. He hasn't got a case.
He's getting one.
You know what they
call him back there?
The stiletto.
He's going to stick
a legal needle in you.
Now, one idea that I've got
is to lose you around
the Persian Gulf
for around six months.
We got a number of big contracts
with some oil sheikhs there.
How's that sound?
Unnecessary. I quit.
That's good, too.
Lieutenant Brown,
I'm David Kinney.
What do you want to know?
Well, first of all,
why no charges?
The other guys sh*t first.
Guys?
There's an
interesting assumption.
We'll get back to that.
What about the blood tests?
Rick and A.J. Simon
were both drunk
when one of them sh*t Williams.
Now you're making assumptions...
1, that you and I
agree what drunk is,
2 that you and I agree
that you sh*t him.
But you will agree
that, with their
blood alcohol level,
had they been caught driving,
they would have been arrested.
I don't get the point.
Sure you do.
Right now they make better
suspects than witnesses.
Their story's as muddy
as a cow pasture in May.
Did they sh**t
Williams, or didn't they?
Was he alone, or
were they in it with him?
And who hid the
microchips in the house?
Grand Juries don't like
that many questions.
They don't like any.
I had a tight little case
against Fox and Williams.
I got a better one
against Simon and Simon.
You gave their g*ns back?
The 357 was fully loaded,
but it had been fired.
A.J. was at a practice
range the day before.
That much he can prove.
Was there a paraffin test?
No. Why?
He was sh**ting targets.
Was Williams
alone, like he says,
or part of a group,
like they say?
We found nothing that
proves he has company.
We found one machine p*stol,
eight magazines,
30 rounds per mag,
and about this much brass.
The other guys could
have had brass sketches
over the ejectors.
Why? How about
the hits on the house?
About 200.
The other guys could
have been f*ring in the air.
Why?
Why invent a reason
when you don't need one...
when it's so much
easier to believe
that Williams acted alone?
You know, I get
the distinct feeling
you don't like talking
about the Simon case.
Is that what you're
calling it now?
It's shaping up like that.
I'm a local cop.
You're Palladin...
Out of town g*n.
You're like a big
strange beetle.
People want to
look at you close up,
so you've been going to a
lot of cocktail parties and stuff.
Get a sample of your
own blood alcohol.
Rick and A.J. are
friends of mine,
so I'll be watching you
up close and personal.
You step out of line,
and you can get real lost.
Is that a thr*at?
I'm not speaking English?
Yeah. That's a thr*at.
Rick? How'd you get in? I
thought we gave our keys...
Oh.
Take a load off.
What is all this stuff?
Just what it
says... Toilet paper.
Guess they're using the
old office as a store room
until they can rent it.
Toilet paper.
That's...
That's demeaning.
Why? It's not our
office anymore.
It's an empty room.
Did we say we were
going to meet here?
No.
I guess we were just
on the same wavelength.
I was out wandering around.
This seemed like a logical place
to stop wandering.
Yeah.
Mrs. Ferguson's husband
b*at her up last night.
Geez. She all right?
She's got a lot of deep bruises.
Some loose teeth.
Needed some stitches.
There's no broken bones.
Gee.
I stayed with her
at the hospital,
and then I took her over to
the Chester Street Hostel.
She'll be safe there.
[sigh]
I really screwed up this time.
We screwed up.
[sigh]
I just been lying here
trying to think like
a smart raccoon.
Okay, I give up.
Well, let's say you're
a smart raccoon.
You think you're
pretty good at it.
For years now,
you've made your living
snatching the
cheese out of a trap.
You know you can do it.
You look at the cheese,
and then you look at the trap.
You get your paw
right out there to it.
You get real Zen with it.
And just when you
think you cannot miss,
wham.
You get your leg
busted in a trap.
A farmer comes along and
smashes you in the head
because as smart
as a raccoon can get,
he's really dumb.
If he were smart,
he'd stay away from
the trap altogether.
You know what I said earlier
about... what each of us needs
is no longer what
both of us need?
Yeah.
- It's not true.
- It never was.
Well...
Want to try opening
up the agency again
on a limited basis?
Clients?
Well, the first thing we do
is we take Mrs. Ferguson back.
Mm-hmm.
After that...
I know a couple of brothers
who could use some help.
Stay away from the older one.
He's dumber than a red brick.
The young one ain't no genius.
To purposely inflict yourself
with a grievous g*n wound...
Oh, what a thing.
And more importantly, why?
Tyler wanted Williams'
story to sound convincing.
People tend to believe a man
if he's got a
b*llet hole in him.
But we didn't put
that hole there.
And you don't give
a g*n to your friend
and then say "Take
your best sh*t."
You got to have somebody
who's an expert marksman
and somebody
who knows a little bit
about the human body.
Yes, most assuredly.
And a very tricky business.
The g*n must be positioned so.
The body, mm, so.
Precise point of
entry calculated.
That would explain quite a lot.
What would it explain?
Well, the sedative, for one.
You were drinking last night,
but Mr. Williams was
much closer to Nirvana.
- Drugged?
- Loaded.
Berythium, a
prescription depressant.
Something a surgeon
would use, not an addict.
Also, there is a
question of his blood loss.
It was reportedly heavy,
but his pressure was good.
Would he need an
operating theater
and a surgical team?
No, no, no, just a
well-equipped office.
So they rigged it.
What did they do, get a
surgeon to sh**t the guy?
All you need's a
marksman to sh**t him,
but a surgeon standing by.
Yeah, to keep him drugged,
wait for us to get home,
spill a little fresh
blood on the bridge.
Such a naughty thing.
How do you find
a doctor to do this?
Yellow Pages?
[Raj] Mm. I don't think
it would be a specialist.
No. Mm. I would say someone
in general surgical practice.
Him, yes.
Hmm. Possibly him.
I figure Williams' lawyer must
have had enough leverage
- to force somebody.
- Leverage?
Yeah. Tyler handles a lot
of medical malpractice suits.
Are not such
things confidential?
Any penetration?
Breach of perimeter?
Alien presence?
- Speak up.
- We ain't seen anybody.
- Who are you?
- Ultra Prompt.
We received a
silent alarm at 11852.
Oh. Oh. We had
a light downstairs.
- What have you been doing?
- Climbing the stairs.
[beeping]
No intrusion.
No intrusion.
[beeping increases]
Ah.
We've got a circuit
overload, station 9.
Roger that. They want
us to sweep it anyway.
Electrostatic discharge.
Roger.
Excuse me.
[beeping]
No.
We won't be able to get
a clean sweep of
you guys in there.
Too much polyester
in your uniforms.
Tsk.
We'll take it from here.
Better go back
down to the lobby,
head off the cops. I
hate these false alarms.
We'll reset.
Thank you, guys.
Okay. Uh, malpractice,
malpractice.
Malpractice, master cross index.
[police siren in distance]
Okay, also look for
Fox and Williams,
Kemper Electronics,
and, uh, the truck driver
who had his load of
microchips stolen...
John Nathan.
Oh, that's sweet.
Whoo.
Comes in brown, red, green,
any color you want.
How did we ever survive
before they invented
these things?
Come in.
You know, when
I joined the force,
I knew I was going to be
in for long, strange hours.
My mama said I might as
well become a jazz drummer.
Ha ha. I laughed.
If I was a drummer,
I'd be asleep now
because when I
got off at 2, I'd be off.
Someone is trying to put
our necks in a noose, Town.
We need your help
to follow the rope.
All right, this is
Williams talking
from his statement
to David Kinney.
Uh... You're not
supposed to have that.
That's a Grand Jury
deposition there.
Why do you think we stole it?
Would you just stop wagging
your finger for a minute and listen?
Geez.
Uh... Uh, yeah.
"I stole that Kemper
truck from a truck stop.
"I found that Fox guy
"working maintenance
at the dock.
"I didn't know him before.
"I paid him from the
money that they gave me
"and put the
microchips on the ship.
They had already worked
everything out with the captain."
- Who's they?
- Us.
He claims we engineered
the whole thing.
He claims we hired
him for a one sh*t
and then double-crossed him.
He admits to trying to
strangle me in the parking lot,
and he admits to
ambushing us here,
but he claims he
was acting alone
and we sh*t him.
In return for his testimony,
Kinney dropped both charges.
Sure. Tyler worked it real nice.
Yeah, one of his
clients gets off free,
the other one gets a
much lighter sentence.
There's no substitute for a
cop's mind, you know that?
Williams probably
agreed to a bonus
for taking the rap
and doing the time.
That's easy to see.
Yeah, the old way.
The real way, Kinney has a
weak and a confused case,
and he probably could lose it.
What's he got now?
Oh, a much easier case to win,
wrapped up neat...
A one-time heist instead
of an ongoing operation
and a witness who
fingered the brains... you.
I guess that's why you sh*t him.
- Yep.
- But we didn't sh**t him.
- But you can't prove it.
- We can try.
Dr. Rooney.
Hi, Dr. Rooney.
I'm Frank Bacon.
This is Chris Marlowe.
We're with the Surgeon
General's office.
What?
I hate to disturb you
away from the office,
but we'd like to get your
side of the Williams thing.
Excuse me.
Well, we're not in the business
of excusing unethical practice.
We simply punish it.
We'll see how ready
you are to thr*aten me
when we're not alone.
No threats, just facts.
Two days ago, you
sh*t Bobby Williams.
Where it wouldn't
do much harm...
You know, right around in here.
And then, when he came
up out of the general,
uh, you froze the wound
and pumped Mr. Williams
full of depressants.
As long as he got to a hospital
in a decent amount
of time, he'd be fine.
Good work. He's fine.
Look, I'm going to call
the Surgeon General
and really fix you.
Okay, but shouldn't
you call your lawyer,
call Austin Tyler first?
There's no reason for you
to take the blame alone.
You're damn right
I'm going to call Tyler.
You know, Rooney...
There is a way
out of this for you.
How big is that malpractice?
I'm sure you know.
And Tyler thinks he can win.
Of course, he can always lose.
For him, that's
just lost income.
My hunch is there are some
real ugly angles to this case.
Otherwise, you'd just
get another lawyer.
You're in a spot, Rooney.
You could make it a
lot worse for yourself.
You know, get up there
in front of a federal Grand Jury
and perjure yourself.
Be a party to attempted m*rder.
Now, um, here's the
number of the prosecutor
handling the Williams case.
I hear he's a man
who will make a deal.
Why don't you call
him instead of Tyler?
He just lost about 5 pounds
standing there sweating.
Yeah, but he didn't
admit anything.
Think we can put
the screws to him?
No, I think that's about
as tight as they go
on Dr. Rooney.
Of course, we may
have just lit a fire
under Austin Tyler's feet.
Let them go. I
think they saw us.
Listen to me. We have
to take care of them now.
I know, I know. You
prefer the physical solution,
but I say it's best to
keep them at arm's length.
While they pull your plan apart?
No, no. That won't happen.
The doctor won't say anything,
and we'll check on the
Simon boys tomorrow.
- Relax, will you?
- I relax for just so long,
and then I do something about
what's making me nervous.
I worry about it later.
[Rick] Usually,
when you get down
to the last piece of the puzzle,
you can see
exactly how it all fits.
[A.J.] Maybe he's
not part of the puzzle.
Does he look to you
like the kind of man
who would sell out
his own country?
What do they look like?
I'm telling you, that
is the inside man.
He's been slipping
out the microchips
and fudging his
delivery records.
Williams said
he stole his truck.
He said that after
he got caught.
You only steal a truck
like that once for a job.
They've been losing
microchips for over a year.
[sigh]
Okay, so he's deeply hidden...
What the espionage
types call a moll.
The fact that he still
has a job proves that.
The FBI probably put
him through a sieve
after... after the bust.
Okay, if he's a moll,
he's not going to communicate
directly with anybody.
He's going to use sign
posts and message drops,
all that John le Carré stuff.
Now, if we want him to
open up his pipeline again,
we're going to have
to use his system.
Or come up with a whole new one.
If he's hungry enough,
maybe he'll bite.
Maybe he's not hungry.
Maybe he's motivated
by some personal
belief or philosophy,
something that we
can't tempt him with.
Maybe.
He's probably motivated
by the same thing
as everybody else...
- Money.
- Money.
♪♪ [funk rock]
That's it.
That's the drop.
That's the place he expects
to find the next message.
Or one of the places.
What does it mean to
him when it's empty?
Danger signal?
I don't know.
Chances are he'll check again.
He took the money, he
must be ready to take the risk.
If we're lucky,
he'll just assume that
the system was changed
after the bust.
[knock on door]
Who is it?
It's me. It's John Nathan.
Count to 5, Mr. Nathan,
then come in, close
the door, and sit down.
Don't turn on the light.
What's that for?
Just take your seat. Mr. Nathan.
The light's for your
own protection.
All this hocus pocus. We
never needed it before.
Is that you, Fox?
[speaking fake Russian]
[speaking fake Russian]
Never mind who that is.
You're safer not knowing.
Fox can't make
contact right now...
Not until this last mess
is straightened out.
[speaking fake Russian]
Da, Commissar.
All right, Nathan, the
truth is we're desperate.
We need more Z70
processors, a lot more.
Are you kidding?
I mean, the FBI came to see me.
They're, uh,
watching the stocks.
Nathan.
[Russian accent]
Don't play that game.
We know you can get more.
If you cannot get more...
you are not useful to us.
Are you understand?
Fox never threatened me before.
I don't think I like it.
Very wise.
But we are willing pay.
We pay three times price.
Uh, 75,000?
That's it, Nathan.
Are you in or out?
Uh...
in.
Hail, hail, the g*ng's all here.
It's amazing what
a few well placed
anonymous phone calls will do.
The nice thing
about conspiracies
is that you can trust
everyone not to trust anyone.
Wait.
Looks like Nathan.
Austin! Over here!
What do you want?
- What do I want?
- Yeah.
You called me.
[Man over loudspeaker]
This is the FBI.
Stay where you are.
Put your hands
on top of your head.
You're under arrest.
All right! We're
going up in that plane.
Everybody stay clear.
I'm going to take
the big guy with me.
Come on, Kinney. Come on!
Everyone, keep calm.
[Rick] Uh-oh. It's gone
sour. They got Kinney.
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Wait a minute. What
are you going to do?
If they get Kinney in that
airplane, he's a dead man.
Yeah, but just don't
do anything rash now.
Let me... Let me
think for a minute.
Come on, Rick.
Uh, get in.
- What's the plan?
- I'll think of something.
You, Doctor, in the back seat.
[A.J.] It's over.
Don't be stupid.
[Kinney] Fox, just
surrender to me.
We're coming out.
He gave me his g*n.
All right! All right.
Thanks for the tip.
Stick around. I'll do you next.
Glory time.
Glory time?
Mr. Kinney, as Alice
was heard to say,
curiouser and curiouser.
How did you know
they'd attempt shipment,
this time by air?
Well, I would like to
say it was all hard work,
but truthfully we
received an anonymous tip
just in time for us to
get an undercover agent
here as pilot.
Speaking of just in time,
what about the two men who...
I guess they didn't hear me.
Thank you, Juan.
- Hi, Mom.
- Hi, darling.
- I like it.
- Mm-hmm.
This time it's for keeps.
What a mother
has joined together,
etc., etc., etc.
For now.
But one of these days,
Mom, one of these days,
I'm going to give up.
He's supposed to be
moving us in right now
while I finish up the
Ferguson divorce.
Is he here? No. Of
course not. Rick's late.
I'll tell you another thing.
I'm not going to have my name
on the lease alone anymore.
I'm the one who always ends
up paying for the patched walls.
I'm the one who ends up
paying for the broken desks.
But no more. This
time I've learned better.
A.J., I know it's not
good for me to take sides,
and I've tried not
to with you and Rick,
but when he was in fourth grade
and you were in kindergarten,
I knew you were
older than he was.
You always will be.
Oh. Hi, A.J. How'd the case go?
Uh, Mrs. Ferguson
got the divorce.
Mr. Ferguson got six months.
- Good.
- Where have you been?
- Hi, Mom.
- Hi, darling.
You're in luck.
I got here five of the
world's greatest tostadas.
Went all the way to
Rosarita to get them.
When I woke up, I realized
what the day was for.
Mexican food. Rick,
we're supposed to be
moving into our office today.
It's after noon already.
And you're probably starved,
so see how things work out?
Did you forget about the lease?
You didn't sign that
already, did you?
This man refuses to
accept any responsibility...
Before you split up again,
which way is the
manager's office?
- End of the hall.
- I'm surprised you know.
You're getting on my case again.
You bet I'm getting
on your... ow!