01x14 - The Girl from Little Egypt

Episode transcripts for the TV show "The Fugitive". Aired: September 17, 1963 – August 29, 1967.*
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Dr. Richard is wrongly convicted for a m*rder he didn't commit, escapes custody and ends up in a game of cat-and-mouse with the real k*ller.
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01x14 - The Girl from Little Egypt

Post by bunniefuu »

NARRATOR:
The name: Dr. Richard Kimble.

The destination:
death row, state prison.

The irony:

Richard Kimble is innocent.

Proved guilty, what
Richard Kimble could not prove

was that moments before
discovering

his m*rder*d wife's body,

he saw a one-armed man running
from the vicinity of his home.

Richard Kimble ponders his fate
as he looks at the world

for the last time...

and sees only darkness.

But in that darkness
fate moves its huge hand.

ANNOUNCER:
The Fugitive.

A QM production.

Starring David Janssen
as the fugitive.

Co-starring Ed Nelson...

Diane Brewster...

and special guest star
Pamela Tiffin.

Also starring Barry Morse
as Lieutenant Gerard.

Tonight's episode,
"The Girl From Little Egypt."

Ruth, honey, I...
I was going to tell you.

But you didn't.

I had to hear it from your
partner just before we landed.

"A fine man," he called you.

And he thinks your wife
is wonderful.

Wonderful.

Neurotic, possessive.

Close to being an alcoholic.

All right. Let everybody else
think she's wonderful.

I don't want anyone to know
the truth but you and my lawyer.

A divorce?

I don't believe you.

Whether or not you do,
it's the truth.

Do you honestly think
the past four months

have meant nothing to me?

Honey, our place, our parks,
our bridges...

Paul, please.

Our Wednesday evenings.

Don't do this to me.

Ruth, it's done.
We can't go back now.

And I can't go on.

Honey...

Ruth!

You won't be flying out till
this is cleared up, Miss Norton.

I'll notify the airline.

Yes, sir.

Checked his bag.
It's the usual stuff.

No ID. Small amount of cash,
about $ in silver.

How badly is he hurt?

Might only be a concussion
instead of a fractured skull.

Bruises, cuts.
Deep one on his leg.

Could I...? Would it be possible
for me to go to the hospital?

To make sure
he's going to be all right?

For your sake, miss,
I hope he's all right.

KIMBLE:
You did everything you could,
John.

Everything you could.

I've delivered
I don't know how many kids...

I'll, uh...
I'll be by to see you later.

Hello, darling.

How are you feeling?

Oh, not very well.

I didn't know they were
going to put me in so deep.

Well, they gave you
the privilege of telling me.

Do we have a son or a daughter?

We had a son.

Helen, I love you.

We can look forward
to a long, full life.

I am so happy.

As a doctor
I ought to have the words, I...

All I can say is,
I'm sorry.

In time we'll be able...

What's wrong?

Our child was stillborn.

Dead?

What else?

Why did they
put me under like that?

What time is it?
How long was I in there?

A long time.

Why?
What else did they do to me?

We almost lost you, Helen.

What else?

It was the only way.
We can't have children.

No children.

My baby dead.

Hey...

Hey,

we will have children.

We'll manage to...

Dead!

Dead!

Dead!

Helen...

Helen...

Officer Westphal.
Welcome back.

Should we notify Helen,
Mister...?

Browning.

George Browning.

Did I say "Helen"? I...

Girl I knew.

Did I mention any others?

Heh. No, just a lot of mumbling
we couldn't make out.

"We"?

WESTPHAL:
Miss Norton.

She's been here
ever since you came in.

What happened?

WESTPHAL:
You tell me.

Just listen, miss.

I, uh...

I had a ride.

I...got out of the car
and waited...

I... I ran outta cigarettes.

I saw a place up the highway.

I, uh,

should've looked
before I stepped out.

You stepped out?

I...

tried to jump back.

Sorry.

Oh, my head hurts.

Concussion, Browning.

Got a bum leg too.

You'll be here a while.

Say,

you didn't tell me
he stepped onto the highway.

I didn't have a chance
to see what he was doing.

Well, that wraps it.
Goodnight, Miss Norton.

You're a lucky girl.

Helen...

Mr. Browning?

Why?

Honey,
you look wonderful.

Thank you, darling.
You're very gallant.

And I might say
the same for you.

Now that we've bolstered
each other's egos,

what do you say we do something
about our appetites?

Good. Where to tonight?

Oh, there's a little
seafood house

that Carter
was telling me about.

It has good food.
Uh...

When did you see
Ross Carter?

Oh, Helen,
let's not spoil tonight, huh?

The great Ross Carter of the
clinic for planned parenthood.

Look, we merely discussed
the possibility...

Forget it, Richard.

For the last time,
I won't live a lie!

I'm not so far away
you have to scream it.

I'll scream all I want.

Helen, why do you keep
thinking of adoption as a lie?

Because it is.

I wouldn't be its mother.

Every year thousands
of people...

I don't care if a million people
lie to themselves.

If I can't have a child,
I won't have one.

You won't.
Your tragedy.

Look, he was my son too. Doesn't
that mean anything to you?

It means I'm going to have
another drink.

We have lots of glasses,
Richard.

MAN:
Richard David Kimble,

it is the verdict of this court

you shall be removed
to the state penitentiary

and there held
until a date to be determined,

and on that date,

according to the laws
of this sovereign state,

execution shall be done
unto you.

May God have mercy
on your soul.

I thought you'd gone.

I...wanted to ask,

why you said the accident
was your fault.

That's my business.

What's going to happen to you?

Why the concern?

Dr. Kimble, I...

Yes, I heard.

You were sentenced
to be ex*cuted.

I was innocent.

People usually don't lie
when they're delirious.

But what if
the police come back?

Or a nurse hears what I did?

I'll find out how soon
you can be discharged,

if you have someone
to take care of you.

Why are you doing this?

My name is Ruth Norton.

I come from the part of Illinois
they call Little Egypt.

I'm years old.

You saved my life.
That's right.

If it hadn't been for you,

I probably would have
k*lled myself

at the first curve
in that highway.

I, uh, can do it myself,
little girl from Little Egypt.

That wasn't the agreement.

And you've got to be
back here in three days

for a checkup, Mr. Kimble.

Uh...

Do us a favor.

The name is George Browning.

You know,
once, a long time ago,

I was out there
on a troopship.

It won't work.

"I'll tell you my life story,
you tell me yours."

You've all the defenses
of a first-rate chess player.

Don't you want anything else?

No.

Well, the bed's made,

so I'm going marketing.

What are you allergic to?

Not a thing.

You're a...very trusting soul.

That's my trouble.

Besides, what could you do?

Run up the telephone bill,

steal the $ from the
coffee can underneath the sink,

get the television out of focus?

But you wouldn't even do that.
You're a careful man.

I have to be.

Lock the door, will you?

Darling, I had to come,
to...

To make sure you were all right,
to try and explain.

There's nothing to explain.

But there is.
You didn't give me a chance.

What good would it do?
You're married.

That's all I know.

You're married.

PAUL: Darling, I... I admitted it.

It's all my fault.

I kept telling myself that

this isn't right.
I... I have to tell her.

And then it was the second hour
of the second day

in the second week
and I was trapped.

Trapped?
And what was I?

I like to think you felt
the same way, and still do.

Paul, please don't!

Leave me alone!

Uh, sorry.

Paul, this is...

George.

Brother George.

How do you do?

Well, uh, you could have
told me, Ruthie,

saved all this egg on my face.

George,
this is Paul Clements.

Glad to meet you.

You know, uh,

in your letters
you said you were lonesome.

Uh,
what do you do, George?

Salesman.
Uh, sporting goods.

I get to town
about once or twice a year.

Must be quite a change
from back in...

Little Egypt?
Yeah, well,

I get there
about once a century.

George works
out of New York.

Oh?

Well, uh,

they're not letting people
into ball games

at half-price anymore.

Meaning, I'll, uh,

take a walk
and get the papers.

Walk as though
you've a bad leg there.

Huh?
Oh, I just, uh,

sprained it, uh, playing
a little golf with a client.

You, uh...
You gonna be in town long?

I'll, uh, wind it up
in a couple of days.

Let's, uh...
Let's have a drink?

No, thanks, anyway.

I'm gonna have to be going.

Oh, now, wait a minute.
Stick around a while.

After all, I barged in here
like an elephant.

Don't worry about it.

Goodnight, darling.

Oh, nice, um...
Nice meeting you, Paul.

Yeah.

No wonder
they haven't caught you yet.

How can anybody tell who you are
without a scorecard?

Well, Brother George is
a role I didn't like playing.

Neither did I.

And thanks
for not being someone

I picked up on the rebound.

You still love him.

Please, no moralizing.

You fall in love...

Before you know it,
you're in over your head.

You find out he's married.
You want to k*ll yourself.

The question is, Ruthie:

will he come to the funeral,

or will he ask his wife
to pick out some flowers

for a nice little stewardess
he once met on a plane?

I'm sorry
for what I said last night.

What did you say?

I don't remember.

About his wife picking out
flowers for your funeral.

Oh, yes, I remember now.

The, uh,

old story of the lonely girl
in the big city?

Your guess was good.

I met him on a flight.

A week later he called.

Dinner.

One of those little hideaways
that trap ten women a week.

Checkered tablecloths.

Chef comes out and asks you
if you're enjoying yourself.

You've been around, George.

Anyhow, with my flight schedule
I only saw him on weekdays.

Mostly Wednesdays.

A concert,

art exhibition,
baseball game.

Here.

The future
Mrs. Paul Clements

slaving over a hot stove
and loving it.

Uh...

Be back tomorrow?

Friday at .

Well, I'm gonna
go by the hospital

and have 'em
check out this leg.

And I'd like
to pick you up.

Well enough to drive?
Uh-huh.

Okay.

The car's yours.

Don't steal it.

It isn't paid for.

Prestwick.

Oh, Jim? Paul.
How you doing, buddy?

Hey, Paul.
What can you do for me?

Look, Jim, I've got
kind of a funny problem.

"Funny," and you call Homicide?

Heh. Look, kidding aside,
I've been elected

sort of a Good Samaritan
this week, and I...

I just don't know
how to go about it.

Problem is this: There's this
little secretary around here

see, and, uh,
well, she's got a friend

that's a...
A stewardess or something.

Name is, uh,
Ruth...Norton, I think.

Yeah, that's it.
Norton.

Ruth Norton.
Well, what about her?

Well, I'm coming to that
right now.

It seems this
what's-her-name stewardess

won't tell anybody
what's bothering her.

And she's going around
terrifically depressed.

Uh, so the secretary
starts snooping around

and finds a crumpled fender

on the girl's car.

Think she's a hit-and-run?

That's not Good Samaritan.
That's fink.

Well, no, she wasn't acting
guilty or anything.

Just depressed.

Listen, Paul, of all the things
you asked me to do, I mean...

All you have to do
is get the particulars

on the accident,
and then I'll...

The secretary'll take care
of the rest.

All right.

Let's see, uh,
Ruth Norton, huh?

I'll check with Traffic
and get back to you.

I certainly appreciate it, Jim.

Hey, listen,
gonna see you and Lois

over Saturday night, eh?

Yeah, that's right. I'll have
this way before that though.

And give my best
to Doris and the kids.

Right, Jim.
Thanks a lot.

WOMAN:
Lieutenant Prestwick
on the line.

Oh, thanks, honey. Jim?

Paul? Tell the secretary to tell
her friend things are all right.

No charges. Minor accident
involving a transient.

Already discharged
from the hospital.

Oh. Heh. You're a magician, Jim.

You sure it was Ruth Norton,
huh?

Ruth Norton and George Browning.
Case closed.

George Browning?

Thanks, Jim.

Thanks a lot.

You have a nice time?

Wonderful.

What have you been doing?

Rehearsed telling you
my life story.

Don't I know enough already?

I don't think so.

It was in the newspapers,
magazines.

I understand someone's
writing a book about it.

I suppose
that makes it real.

A real nightmare.

Yes, we argued.

Often.

Well, living next door,

my husband and I could hear,
of course.

Do you know for a fact that any
of these arguments were violent?

Well, I...
Well, I once saw Mrs. Kimble

with a very bad bruise
on her cheek.

She became intoxicated.

Fell against the bureau.

And were you present?

Yes, but I was across the room.

"Across the room."

And what did you do
when she fell?

Picked her up, treated her.

And realized
how much you loved her.

Well, I did love her.

I never stopped loving her.

Just...

that one hopeless area.

You say you saw
a boy in a rowboat.

Yes, sir.

But you don't think
he saw you.

As a matter of fact,
you've heard him,

sitting right there,
testify that he didn't see you.

And now you claim
someone else

must have seen you.

You swear
that you saw him.

A man with one arm,

running from the direction
of your house.

I call to the attention
of this court

the previous testimony
of Lieutenant Philip Gerard.

Immediately following
the homicide,

and over a period
of ten days thereafter,

my office interrogated
a total of men

of such description.

And what were
your findings?

That none of them could possibly
have been in the vicinity

when the crime took place.

Then, Lieutenant Gerard,
with your reputation

as one of the most brilliant
police officers in the state,


you were forced
to conclude

that there never was
a one-armed man.

Objection. Objection!

Sustained.

I order that
stricken from the record.

I must warn you,
Mr. Rand,

you are familiar with
the proceedings of this court

and I expect you
to abide by them.

Richard David Kimble,

have you anything to say
before I pass sentence upon you?

Before God,

I am innocent.

Innocent.

How you must have felt.

I didn't tell you all this
to make you feel sorry for me.

I know. You're just
trying to put

my little world in perspective,
aren't you?

Hello?

How are you? I didn't...

Yes.

Yes, I will.

Paul.

He wants to meet George Browning
at the Red Lion Bar

in minutes.

How'd he find out?

Where is the Red Lion Bar?

Two blocks south on Taylor.

You shouldn't go.
I just know it.

Yeah, well,
our instincts agree.

But if I run I won't find out
what he wanted, will I?

Five one hundreds.

How did you figure
all this out?

It was simple.

Ruth's car is damaged,
your bad leg. An accident.

Why press charges and get things
all tied up in court?

You thought of a better way:
blackmail.

Room and board,
and I don't know how much

until you...
You got your strength back.

How did you decide
on ?

Why not or , ?

Are you gonna take this?

Successful,
upstanding young executive

protecting a sweet little girl
in the big city, huh?

Except that you're not.

You just wanna get rid of me
so you can try to get things

back to the way they were.

I'll offer you a deal.

Cost you a lot less
than .

Tomorrow.
Saturday night.

Take her out.
Dinner, theater.

What are you trying to do?

Take her out Saturday night.
I'll be gone Sunday morning.

I can't.
We're having...

I'm having
people over tomorrow night.

Family and friends, huh?

Yeah, sure. Why, uh, risk
spoiling that world of yours

for a girl you can love
in the middle of the week?

Listen, Browning,
or whatever it is.

You're lucky. As of now
you know more about me

than I do about you.

As of now.

I still don't believe Paul
didn't thr*aten you in some way.

Disappointed he didn't fight
fang and claw for you?

I didn't mean that.

You know
I didn't mean that.

Ever asked yourself
why Paul Clements?

He was lonely.

On Market Street you have
to step off the sidewalk

to make room
for the lonely ones.

Most of them aren't married,
Ruthie.

I don't want to talk about it.

Well, that's, uh,
not gonna change anything.

You shouldn't forget him.

You ought to remember him

as a particular type of man.

The city's full of them.

They're a lot like children:
"I want, I want."

All pleasure, no pain.

If somebody gets hurt,
it won't be them.

And they'll always
find somebody else.

Well, uh, end of lecture.

I'll, uh, be leaving
in the morning.

Tomorrow,
maybe tonight.

Just like that.

Just like that.

Thank you very much.

For all the right answers,
best wishes

and a pat on the head.

Not all the answers, Ruthie.

The big one you'll have to
find for yourself.

What's this, dear?

A payment to the Mafia?

Oh. Ha, ha. Yeah, that's an
example of better judgment.

I, uh, got a tip
on the commodity market.

I, heh, thought
twice about it.

I'm gonna redeposit it
Monday morning.

Heh. I see. Well,
you hang up your coat

while I relieve
you of the martini.

Yeah...

Oh, darling, um,
speaking of martinis,

I asked the Cunninghams
over Wednesday night.

Fine.

Uh, Wednesday night?
Uh-huh.

I won't know until Monday,

but I, uh...

may have to put in a little time
with Poached Egg Wilson

from Kansas City.

Him again?
You poor man.

You know how he is.

Talk your leg off rather than
go back to his hotel room.

Well, maybe you can
salvage the evening

by getting him to eat something
other than poached eggs.

Anyway, I'll burn a candle
in the window for you.

Good girl.

No matter how late I am, I know
I can always count on that.

Are you always
so mysterious?

We're almost there.

I've never been in this part
of the peninsula before.

Expensive homes.

Did you know these people
before you were...?

Here we are.

Lots of cars.
Must be a party.

I'll leave it to you.

We're old friends
from out-of-town.

You get outta here.

My leg's better.
I feel fine.

Meaning I'll knock you into
your wall-to-wall carpeting

if you try
to keep us out.

Come in, won't you?
I'm Doris.

Yes, come in, come in.

This is, uh, my wife, Doris.

Uh, Doris, this is Ruth Norton
and her brother, George.

Hello.
Ruth is an airline stewardess.

A stewardess?

Tell me something.
Do you girls really

fly those planes
from the pilots' laps?

Scotch and water, Paul.

DORIS:
Don't you like parties?

I do.
They're so meaningless.

Oh, come on.

Uh, what's this?

Uh.

Okay, off to bed with you.

That's the fourth trip.

They must be having
a smorgasbord.

They're beautiful children.

They're monsters
from the planet Earth.

Come on, meet some people.
Sober, drunk, witty, boring.

All friends.

Guess I'll have to get
that drink myself.

See you, Harry.

Where's Sally, Jim?

Oh, I guess she's off
talking politics some place.

DORIS:
Oh, Ruth,
this is Jim Prestwick.

He has endured
the friendship of my husband

longer than anyone else.

Jim,
this is Ruth Norton.

Ruth Norton?

DORIS:
She's an airline stewardess.

Now if you two
will excuse me.

Give me the Scotch.

Uh, you're a stewardess, huh?

Almost a year now.

Oh, is that so?

You know, I've got
a young cousin in Saint Paul

and he is just crazy
about flying.

MAN: Oh, I really don't
know how much good it does.

As a deterrent, I mean.

Do you really think
that in a moment of rage

you'd even stop to think about
legal punishment?

Well, that's a good question,
a very good one.

I don't know.

When you leave,
you leave with me.

This is the cruelest thing
anyone's ever done to me.

Take a look around.

Hey, listen, hey.
There you go.

You think he's going
to give all this up for you?

I didn't know
he had all this.

You've made your point.

I'll get my things.
Let's go.

Here's our man.

Sir, sir, would you help us
over here a minute, please?

Thank you.

We're at -
on capital punishment.

My opinion's supposed
to decide something, huh?

You better vote
and make him happy.

Now, listen, lieutenant,

you're a detective,
not a politician.

No soliciting within
feet of the polls.

Uh, well, I, uh,

think our opinions come more
from emotion than from logic.

So whether I'm for
or against capital punishment,

I don't think I'll change
any opinions here.

I'm going to find a voter,
not a philosopher.

Well,
uh, he's new here.

He doesn't know
we have a little rule

not to take ourselves
too seriously.

My name's Jim Prestwick.

Norton. I came with my sister.

Uh, ahem, hey, listen,

I've gotta find my wife.
I... I'll see you later, huh?

You really did it, huh?

You had the nerve
to bring her here.

You've made enough mistakes,
Clements.

All right, all right. Maybe so.

Maybe I should've been
driving her car.

Tell you,
I wouldn't have missed.

I would have aimed
dead center.

And if I would have missed,

I would have backed up.

RUTH:
I'm ready, George.

You have a lovely home,
Paul.

And family.

Next week
I'm going to move.

Somewhere.

I won't be in
the phone book.

Goodbye.

Just wait a minute!
Who do you think you are?

Sorry.

So am I.

Thank you.

It hasn't been so bad,
has it?

No.

When you meet the guy, um...

Whoever he is,
or you think he might be.

...bring him here.

Don't avoid it.

Come here and, uh,

think of Paul,
think of me.

But most of all, think of
the guy what brung you.

I know.
Make it our place.

Good old
checkered tablecloths.

Good old chef coming out
to ask how our dinner was.

You know, Ruthie, um,

sometime I'll be back
and, uh,

you'll probably be
sitting right there.

Only by then you'll be feeding
tamales to a couple of kids

and maybe slipping the old man
some money under the table.

That'll be the day.

I'm not worried about it.

When I'm through
Little Egypt I'll, uh...

I'll give 'em your best.

George?

I never thanked you
for running me down.

The pleasure was all mine.

NARRATOR: The outbound
bus from San Francisco,

destination known.

George Browning,
destination unknown.

His only companion: hope.

Hope for the day
when he can once again

become Richard Kimble.
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