All language subtitles for Remington Steele s03e22 Approval.eng

Ah. On time as always,
Mr. Dunford.

Good evening, Mr. Erhart.
Gentlemen.

Would you excuse us, Jack?

Certainly. Gentlemen.

Proceed, Mr. Dunford.

Well, I thought you should see
some of the poster mock-ups...

we've been working on
for you, Mr. Erhart.

Oh. They're coming right along.
Right along indeed, Mr. Dunford.

Horton, don't you think
you're being a bit premature with all this?

After all, the election
is still two years away.

It'll be here faster
than you think,J.W.

Perhaps so. However,
I feel we should at least wait...

until the background check
on Mr. Westfield is complete...

before we go any further.

We wouldn't want to put
our collective reputations...

behind a man who may have some
buried bodies lying around.

From everything I've read
so far, he's exemplary.

Now, I say we put our mouth
where our money is...

and get this campaign
in full gear now.

Gentlemen, I think it would be
more prudent if we wait...

until we're absolutely certain there are
no chinks in Mr. Westfield's background.

Wait.

Wait.

Well, Horton, old boy.

I guess
you've been outvoted.

I'm getting sick and tired of being dismissed
like an errant schoolboy...

- every time a decision has to be made.
- Be patient, my boy.

You'll be part of
the inner circle soon enough.

- When?
- Have you set everything in motion?

Then be of good cheer.

Thanks again for your time, Mrs. Tucker.
You've been very helpful.

Oh, it was my pleasure.
Really. Believe me.

And, uh, I know
I'm prejudiced, but...

I think Mr. Westfield would
make a wonderful senator.

Well, he appears to have
the credentials for it.

Unless something suddenly comes up,
uh, I'd say he has a shot at it.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

Uh-Yes, Mildred?

Mr. Steele, Mr. Erhart's
here to see you.

Who's Mr. Erhart?

Horton Erhart.

Well, I'm delighted he has a first name,
but who the devil is he?

The background check
on William Westfield.

- Who's William Westfield?
- Miss Holt's working on it.

Well-Well, then
sic him on Miss Holt.

She's not here.

Oh. Never around
when you need her.

Uh, well-

Uh, all right, Mildred.
Okay. Send him in. Thank you.

Okay.

Ah, Mr. Erhart. How very nice
to finally meet you face-to-face.

- May I call you Horton? Bring in the file, will you, Miss Krebs?
- What file?

Why, the files on William Westfield's
background check, of course.

Uh, that is why you're here,
isn't it, Horton?

Mr. Steele, I'm impressed.

A man as busy
as you undoubtedly are...

making the extra effort to become
personally involved in each and every case...

tells me that we have hired
the right agency.

Well, I wouldn't have it
any other way, Horton.

After all, that's why my good name
is on that door out there.

Ah. Thank you
very much, Miss Krebs.

Now, I really haven't had a chance to, uh-

peruse this case
since its final, uh, update.

But, uh, well, it appears we've turned
every page possible on Mr. Westfield...

and it appears, uh-

Well, it appears
he's absolutely clean.

Then I see no reason why you can't give it
your stamp of approval and send me on my way.

Consider it stamped, Horton.

- Not so fast.
- Hmm?

Ah. Working undercover
today, Miss Holt?

Uh, excellent
bag lady look. Yes.

Mr. Erhart,
something has come up...

and I think we should pursue it
before we stamp anything.

- What's happened?
- I was shot at today.

Twice, actually.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that,
Miss Holt, but...

what has that got to do
with William Westfield?

In addition to the fact that we're not
working on any other cases at the moment...

I was interviewing Mr. Westfield's
former secretary when it happened.

But your superior just finished
telling me that Westfield was clean.

Recently, however...

my superior and I found a gap
in Mr. Westfield's history.

A gap? What sort of gap?

There's a period in his life
that cannot be adequately accounted for.

- Sounds as if she's grasping for straws, Mr. Steele.
- Hmm.

I hardly think someone would want
to shoot me just for grasping at straws.

Do you, Mr. Steele?

Horton, I'm going to
get on top of this personally.

I know how upset you are about this
and how important it is to you.

But I'm not gonna let you down.
I'm gonna stake my reputation on this.

Consider it staked.

Rest assured, Horton.

Laura, I mean, really.

I really would appreciate it if you'd inform me
what cases I'm meant to be working on.

I did, but you dozed off
in the middle of it.

It's not my fault
legwork makes you drowsy.

- I know you're upset, but-
- I get that way when I get shot at.

Irrespective of that, Laura,
I've been looking over this file...

and I must say you have done
some admirable work here.

Really. I mean it.
I would vote for Mr. Westfield.

That's the way it appears
on the surface.

But if you're going to stake
my agency's reputation...

we're not closing the books
on this until we're sure.

- We're sure.
- Hmm.

That's what I love about you, Laura.
You're so thorough.

You're so-
so tediously thorough.

I got a look at the car
of whoever shot at me.

Oh, excellent. What was it?

A green... Thunderbird.

Or a Cougar.

Or a Buick
or a Oldsmobile.

Well, that certainly
narrows it down, doesn't it?

I'll call Detroit
first thing in the morning.

But...

there was a bumper sticker
with a lightning bolt on it.

- Yes. Go on.
- That's it.

- That's it?
- I was lying facedown in the gutter.

- That's it?
- I was lying facedown in the gutter.

Couldn't you have lifted your head just a little
bit and got a look at the license number?

Next time, I'll try to do better.

All right, mister.
I want to kn-

William Westfield?

Uh, you're not gonna put this
on my report, are you?

Well, as soon as I found out you'd been
shot at, I headed straight for your office.

I saw you leaving and followed.
At least I tried to.

How did you find out about
the shooting, Mr. Westfield?

William. Please.

Uh, Mrs. Tucker called me.

Do you have any idea what
anybody doesn't want me to find out about you?

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.
I have nothing to hide.

Suppose we start with a curious gap
in your history, Mr. Westfield.

William. Please.

You worked for the district attorney
10 years ago.

From April through June, no one seems to
recall seeing hide nor hair of you.

Ten years ago.

Um, you know, I remember that.
I was down in Mexico at the time.

Business or pleasure?

Definitely not pleasure.

The case involved
a- a really bad fire.

A residential district went up in flames,
and a lot of people lost their lives.

It smelled of arson,
and there was a suspicion in the office...

that SenatorJefferson
was behind it.

The late
Senator Hartford Jefferson?

The same. He owned the land,
and there was talk of putting a freeway through.

The residents took it to court,
and it could have dragged on for years.

But without the houses,
the suit was academic.

Anyway, we got a lead
that his son, Scott, had skipped to Mexico...

because he'd found out about
his father and the fire.

I traipsed around down there for better than
two months looking for that kid.

I finally found him in a hospital
in Canc�n where he'd tried to kill himself.

- Did you talk to him?
- I was only instructed to find him and then call Erhart.

Erhart? Horton Erhart?

Yeah. He was D.A. at the time.

Anyway, he flew down to Canc�n
to take the kid's deposition...

but before he could get there,
Jefferson was transferred to a-

a sanitarium in Mexico City
and declared legally insane.

There were no further leads,
so the case just fizzled out.

Why wasn't there
any record of all that?

We were talking about implicating
a United States senator.

That's not the kind of thing
you broadcast around...

until you're pretty sure
you can make it stick.

Your story seems
plausible enough.

It seems plausible?

Now, what do you think I did down there?
Rape and pillage?

Come on, Miss Holt.
I don't even like Mexican food.

I think I'll have a little talk
with Mr. Erhart.

See what he remembers.

Thank you, Mr. Westfield.

William. Please.

If a man's gonna melt
a woman's ice cubes...

they ought to at least
be on a first-name basis.

We got trouble, boss.

- Remington Steele?
- Call you right back. Yes.

Oscar Bergman,
State Bureau of Investigative Licensing.

Uh, you better go get
Miss Holt, Mildred. Hmm?

We have run across some irregularities
in your case reports.

Perhaps you would be so kind
as to clear them up for us.

Uh, actually, Mr. Bergman,
I am rather busy at the moment. Um-

Well, I'm sure
this won't take long.

Let's start with
the Harper case, shall we?

- The, uh-The-The Harper case, huh?
- Yes.

According to the publicity it garnered,
it was one of your more famous cases.

Uh, give me a year, eh?

1980. November.

1980. Uh-

You wouldn't perchance have
any, uh, more recent irregularities, would you?

Let's stick with
Harper for now.

Yeah. Why not?
Stick with Harper. Okay. Uh-

Hmm. To be absolutely candid
with you, Mr. Bergman, uh...

in those early years I never really
involved myself in any of the cases.

My talents worked best
in a more advisory capacity.

Oh, yes, yes.
The good old days.

Uh- Uh, I best just
go get the files, uh...

just in case, you know,
to check anything out, and, uh, don't go away.

- Miss Holt? What?
- No luck.

- What's going on in there?
- Oh, I wish I knew, Mildred.

Mildred, I want you to go
through Miss Holt's files...

and I want you to find
everything you can on the Harper case.

- November, 1980. Okay?
- Okay.

1980.

Well, Miss Holt, since
you arrive empty-handed...

I can only assume the report
is still incomplete.

I just need a bit of corroboration, Mr. Erhart.
Then I can issue it.

Oh. What, uh-What sort of
corroboration?

You sent William Westfield to Mexico
to locate a ScottJefferson, correct?

Good Lord.
That was 10 years ago.

Mr. Westfield called you
after he'd found ScottJefferson in Canc�n...

but when you got there
to take his deposition...

Jefferson had been moved to
a sanitarium in Mexico City.

Case closed.

Did you ever suspect
there might have been a leak?

Uh, I'm not sure
what you're getting at.

Well, there you were, trying to incriminate
a United States senator...

and suddenly your key witness
was labeled legally insane...

rendering him useless
to your case.

Well, yes, but the only other person
who knew that we'd found the young man was-

William Westfield.

Are you suggesting that
Westfield had Jefferson moved?

What if he had already obtained
a deposition from Jefferson...

before he called you?

What if he then arranged it
so thatJefferson...

could not legally give
his deposition to anyone else?

Why would he do
something like that?

Less than two months after you
both returned from Canc�n...

Mr. Westfield moved
from his office...

to the most prestigious
law firm in the country-

the same law firm that handled
Senator Hartford Jefferson's legal work.

A payoff of some kind?

Careers have been
built on less.

Well, it's food
for thought, Miss Holt.

But how would you go about finding out
whether it's true or not?

Well, the only man who could prove it
would be ScottJefferson.

I'm going to Mexico City and see if I can
have a chat with him.

But that trail
is 10 years old.

It's fresher than that,
Mr. Erhart.

Remember.
I was shot at this morning.

Ah. Miss Holt.

Making any progress
in the Westfield matter?

I'll let you know
in a few days.

Horton doesn't look
too happy.

Hmm. What say we cheer him up?

It's the only green
Thunderbird I got, Mr., uh-

Uh, Keyes. Uh, Norman Keyes.
Uh, Vigilance Insurance.

I guarantee you won't find any dents in that baby.

- I- I checked her out myself.
- Mmm. Yes, yes, yes.

Well, when my client cries hit and run,
I mean, we have to check this out.

Uh, we're vigilant.
Vigilance is our watchword.

That's what it is. Vigilance is our-

watchword.

- Yes.
- Hey. Wait, wait.

- Why are you looking inside?
- Well, you can never be too vigilant, see.

You think he hit your client's car
with a glove compartment?

Ah, well. Well.

Well, sir, you've been an absolute brick, sir.
An absolute brick.

It's people like you
who keep the insurance rate down.

Good day to you, sir. It's been very nice
talking to you. Good day.

Mildred?

- Mildred?
- Oh, Miss Holt.

- Thank God you're here.
- Mildred, what's the matter?

- He grilled me like an animal.
- Who?

Some jerk from the Bureau of
Investigative Licensing.

He said he found some discrepancies
in your old case reports.

- Where's Mr. Steele?
- Bailed out on me.

- Where? - I don't know. One
minute he's here, the next minute-

That's what I love about Mr. Steele-
always here when you need him.

- All right, Mildred. I'll handle the bureau when I get back.
- Where are you going?

- Mexico City.
- But what about Mr. Steele?

I'll handle him
when I get back too.

Front desk.

Yes. Uh, I'd like to have my car
out front in 10 minutes, please.

Uh, the valet number is, uh...

3773.

One moment, please.

Oh, yes. That's the green
Thunderbird, Mr. Donaldson?

Yes. Yes. That's the one.
Thank you very much.

Oh, and could I have a newspaper
delivered to my room right away?

- I'd be glad to, Mr. Donaldson.
- Splendid. Thank you very much.

- Champagne.
- No, thank you.

Oh, it's compliments
of the gentleman.

How is it that you just happen to be
on the very same plane to Mexico City?

Coincidence?

With answers like that, I'd never buy
a used car from you, Mr. Westfield.

- William. Please.
- You're avoiding the question.

You and I share a common interest,
Miss Holt: my past.

Who knows? Maybe before this is all over,
we'll find we share even more important things.

That's a coincidence
I wouldn't count on.

You didn't say.
Did you ever talk to Erhart?

I didn't say.

I don't think I quite
understand you, Miss Holt.

I've been perfectly straight with you.
I've told you everything I know.

Then I find out you're
headed for Mexico City...

which tells me there's something
in my background you're looking for-

something to do with
ScottJefferson, I assume.

I don't know exactly
what you're after...

but I plan on being there when you find
whatever it is you think you're gonna find.

- I have nothing to hide.
- So you've said, Mr. Westfield.

Who the hell are you?

I represent a rather
disgruntled client of yours.

The one connected to
the Holt situation.

Look, uh, sweetheart.
Why don't you take off? I'll call you later.

But what about the coat you bought me?
Can I take it with me?

Yeah. Well, don't
take all day, huh?

- So, what do you want?
- Ah, ah.

My client is extremely unhappy.
You missed your target.

He wants his money back.
I'm here to collect.

What? What are you? Crazy?
That was the deal!

That's not the way
my client sees it.

I told Prince
I didn't like the setup.

I'm not paid to miss.
I don't care how much I get.

I have a certain
reputation to maintain.

You honestly expect me to believe that Prince
hired you to intentionally miss Laura Holt?

That's what he wanted,
and that's what he got.

And he's not gonna
weasel out of this now.

Fascinating story.

The police will-

- Get your head up. Get your head up.
- Helen! Helen, don't shoot!

- For God's sake, it's me.!
- Go on. Right up.

Come on. Up, up, up.
That's it. Okay.

Who is she?
Who is she? Come on.

- My wife.
- Your-Your-Your wife?

Uh, H- Helen.

All right, darling. You can do
one of two things. It's your move.

You can either drop the gun,
or it's instant divorce. Huh?

- Come on.
- Helen.

What's taking you so long?

- Come on.
- Helen.

That's a good-That's a good girl.

All right, sunshine. Up you get. Up you get.
Stay there. Stay there.

A husband-and-wife hit team?

Oh, yes. The family that slays together
stays together, eh? Come on. Out this way.

Where have you been, boss?

- I need you to check out-
- Listen. I may be out of line, and if so...

I still have
an I.R.S. pension coming...

but when you left me hung out to dry
with that bureau pip...

I felt like
a discarded pi�ata.

And he was batting me
all over the place.

- Mildred, I apologize, but it was for a worthy cause. Please.
- I should hope so...

because Mr. Bergman called
and insisted you come down...

and answer some questions at 4:00 sharp,
and he wasn't asking either.

- Where's Miss Holt?
- Mexico City.

What? What in bloody hell
is she doing in Mexico City?

- Beats me.
- I mean, I'm out there sidestepping bullets...

trying to find out who shot her,
trying to save her agency.

Her agency?

Yes. Uh-
Merely a figure of speech.

I mean, one for all, all for one.
Esprit de corps. Semper fidelis.

You'd better hurry, boss.
You don't want to be late.

First I want you to get
that computer to spew out...

everything it's got on
someone named Jack Prince.

- But, boss-
- Listen. Don't worry about the licensing board.

It's merely a formality. I assure you.
I shall straighten everything out. Okay?

Okay. Okay.

You've been awfully quiet
for some time, Miss Holt.

Have you run out of
questions for me to avoid?

Would you, uh, excuse me for a moment,
please? I have to use the ladies' room.

By all means.

Gracias.
"Mucho"gracias.

Gracias. Mucho gracias.

Jefferson's gone.

- Where?
- He was transferred to Los Angeles yesterday.

You won't be heartbroken
if I don't believe you.

Senora Gomez has the file.
How's your Spanish?

Better than my German.

Por favor,
Se�or ScottJefferson.

ScottJefferson?

...fue transferido a Los Angeles.

Uh-

The order was signed
by a Dr. Herbert Sanderly.

After 10 years, Jefferson's
suddenly transferred?

I'm getting tired
of all these coincidences.

- May I, uh-
- Oh, s�.

Yes. Uh, may I have, uh,
the aeropuerto, please?

Don't tell me. You want to know when
the next flight to Los Angeles leaves.

S�.

Hola.

Gracias.
Not till morning, I'm afraid.

Uh- Uh- Uh-
Ha-Hablas ingl�s, please?

Great. Great. Listen.
Can you tell me-

I need to know when the earliest flight
back to Lo- Los Angeles.

Gracias. Mucho gracias.

Hey. You're probably
not going to believe this either...

but I know a great little
Chinese restaurant right around here.

I am so sorry
to keep you waiting.

That's one thing I dislike
about this profession.

You never know
what's gonna come up next.

You can scarcely
plan things in advance.

Is that a fact?

Yes. Sometimes it's
absolutely intolerable.

Now, if we can, uh, scurry things along
a bit. I'm pressed for time.

Yes. Well, uh, Mr. Steele,
I've got good news for you.

You do?

Yes, I do. I'm going to fix it so that
you've got all the time in the world.

You are?

I am officially notifying you
that, as of this moment...

the State Board of
Investigative Licensing...

is suspending your agency's
license until further notice.

Any cases you or your operatives are
currently working on...

you are hereby ordered
to cease and desist...

or face criminal charges.

In other words, Mr. Steele...

you're out of business.

Hello, Mildred?

Oh, Miss Holt.
I'm so glad you called.

But I don't think
you're gonna be.

I can't hear. Can-
Can you speak up, Mildred?

It's terrible, Miss Holt.
It's just terrible.

They've taken our license away!

What? Who did?

Oh, that licensing bum
I told you about.

They're confiscating
our files right now!

- Where's Mr. Steele?
- I don't know. I haven't seen him...

since he went down to the hearing
to straighten everything out.

Are you telling me
that Mr. Steele-

- Oh! I can't talk anymore.
- Why not?

They want to padlock
the office.

I got us two rooms.

Miss Holt?

- Miss Holt?
- I leave the office for less than 24 hours...

and suddenly
all hell breaks loose.

Oh, that man! What could I have possibly
been thinking about all this time?

Why have I stuck it out
for so long?

Boy, have I been
kidding myself.

- Who are we talking-
- That agency means everything to me.

How could I let him do this?

- Your boss, hmm?
- Ha!

Are we talking more than
just a professional relationship?

Ah, who knows anymore? I mean,
one minute there is, the next there isn't.

Up and down. Up and down. You need a bloody
elevator to keep track of all the ups and downs.

I'm sorry about this, William.

- I'm not.
- Why not?

Because that's the first time
you've called me William.

I just- I shouldn't be
laying all this on you.

Hey. It's okay.
I like to listen.

You know, I've never
actually met the man...

but everything I've read
about him makes me envious.

He's naturally dashing,
adventurous, outgoing-

Irresponsible,
devious, enigmatic.

While I, on the other hand,
have always been described...

as a nice, successful...

slightly introverted guy who...

happens to believe in the good old-fashioned
Protestant work ethic.

Hey. What's funny?

I don't know. It's- It's just that that's
the way I've always been described.

A match made in heaven.

- Hey. You're shivering.
- Am I? Well...

- I guess it is a little chilly out.
- Yeah. Here.

Thanks.

Think nothing of it,
Miss Holt.

Laura.

Lovely morning,
isn't it?

Nothing like a brisk jog
to stimulate the senses.

- Do I know you?
- I know you.

Jack Prince.

Self-made millionaire.
String of shopping centers.

Oil wells.

How else does one put it? Uh-

Extraordinary political connections.

- Yeah? And what business are you in?
- Me? Oh, I'm retired.

- Retired, huh?
- For about 14 hours now.

The name's Steele.
Remington Steele.

Well, now, Mr. Steele.

Isn't this a coincidence?

You're awfully chipper considering
your stripes have been taken away.

- I see good news travels fast.
- Let's cut through the bull.

Oh, colorfully put, Jack.
Well, getting to the point...

your hired gun and his
enchanting wife and I had-

what shall we say-
a little soiree yesterday.

What the hell
are you talking about?

You hired them to shoot at Miss Holt.
That's what, mate.

- And you're crazy, and I'm bored.
- Not so fast.

- What do you think you're doin'?
- Making a citizen's arrest.

You hired someone to take a shot at Miss Holt,
and you wanted that someone to miss.

Now, I want to know why.

- This is ridiculous.
- Believe me.

If I could do it
alone, I would.

- Uh-uh. I want to be there when you question
Jefferson. - You might not like the answers.

Oh, are you still
suspicious, Miss Holt?

Laura. And yes, I am.

- It'll never work.
- You've got the easy part.

All you have to do is growl.

- What's his problem?
- I don't analyze 'em. I just deliver 'em.

- Who's the admitting physician?
- Dr. Herbert Sanderly.

He wants him with the other patient
he just had admitted.

Johnson?

The guy that came in
yesterday from Mexico.

Yeah. Johnson.
But he's in the lock ward.

This guy doesn't look like
he needs something that severe.

Hey. Ours is not to reason why.

He just said
stick him with Johnson.

I better double-check.

Obviously the doc knows
what he wants.

Will you just please
put him where he wants him?

Take this guy up
to the lock ward. Room 7.

Dr. Herbert Sanderly, please.

Meadow Wood Sanitarium calling.

Better get some Thorazine.
Twenty-five mil.

When those straps come off,
this baby goes wild.

That's right.

- Watch the door.
- Right.

Mr. Jefferson. Scott.

My name is Laura Holt...

and I need to ask you
some very important questions.

It's about what happened
10 years ago with your father...

SenatorJefferson,
and that terrible fire.

When you were in Mexico...

did you tell anyone
what you knew about that fire?

- Laura, what are you doing here?
- Wrapping up our last case.

Odd. That's what I'm doing.

- You're gonna be astounded by what I've learned.
- I doubt that.

Nothing you do these days
astounds me.

How was Mexico?

How was the licensing board
hearing?

Gentlemen, we're here
to present you with the results...

of our background check
on William Westfield.

Pardon me, Miss Holt,
but I understand you and Mr. Steele...

are no longer accredited
private investigators.

We are merely completing
the job you hired us to do...

when we did have
our license.

You'll be happy to know that Mr. Westfield
is as clean as a proverbial whistle.

Oh, that is good news.

You, on the other hand, Mr. Erhart,
are as dirty as they come.

I beg your pardon?

Uh, Miss Holt,
you're accusing the w-

After Mr. Westfield informed you
that he had found ScottJefferson in Canc�n...

you were the one who had him
moved to Mexico City.

That's a lie!
An outrageous lie!

Then you went to Mexico City,
and you tookJefferson's deposition.

You are the one whose career
is built on bodies, Mr. Erhart.

Then when I started
getting close to the truth...

you sent someone
out to kill me!

Excellent work, Miss Holt.
Excellent work.

There's just one slight adjustment to be made
to your otherwise flawless presentation.

- Kendall is the one who had you shot at.
- Kendall?

- What are you talking about?
- Yes. What are you talking about?

Your prot�g�, Jack Prince,
wanted in on this-

this, uh, illustrious
power circle.

So the two of you conspired together
to cause Mr. Erhart's fall from grace.

- That's the most illogical babble I've ever heard.
- You propo-

You proposed William Westfield as
your candidate for senator...

knowing full well that
a thorough investigation...

would ultimately lead to
Mr. Erhart's closet full of skeletons.

That doesn't make any sense.
Someone tried to kill me-

obviously to stop
the investigation.

Actually, the gunman
was paid to miss you.

Another little added incentive
to keep you on Jefferson's trail. Hmm?

- Uh, Mr. Steele, Miss Holt-
- Just a moment. We're caucusing.

If that's true, why would Kendall
have our license pulled?

I'm afraid I haven't
figured that one out yet.

- Unless-
- Mm-hmm?

It was you who had our license suspended,
Mr. Erhart.

It's a shrewd way to keep us
from being able to find Jefferson.

Good Lord. They're coming at us
from all directions.

Well. That's quite a story.
Either of you have any proof?

ScottJefferson's
signed statement...

implicating you,
Mr. Erhart.

Tough luck, Horton.

And this is a signed statement
from Jack Prince...

implicating you, Kendall.

Tough luck,J.W.

Good Lord.

I've heard about politics
making strange bedfellows...

but this is the most arcane,
byzantine bunch I've ever seen.

You forgot to mention
Machiavellian.

Purely unintentional.

You know, I, uh, took the opportunity
of looking over some of your old case reports.

And, uh, I must admit.

You used quite a bit of creativity
in putting them together.

That was before you were you.

I still had to keep alive the illusion
that there really was a Remington Steele.

Yes. Well, uh-
Uh, despite all that...

I don't think we're gonna have any trouble
in getting our license restored.

Not having it has, uh...

given me time to think.

About what?

Is that piece of paper...

the only thing
that's keeping us together?

Do we really have
anything else in common...

besides this agency?

Laura, if you're talking about
my allergy to legwork-

No.

It's got nothing
to do with that.

Don't you see?
I mean...

losing our license may be
the very best thing that ever happened to us.

Maybe, uh,
it'll give us time to-

to think about how we really feel
towards each other...

outside work.

All we've ever done is-

is play trial and error with
our personal relationship...

as we try to-

to squeeze it into
our professional one.

Are you saying
it hasn't worked?

Are you saying it has?

Well, perhaps not
consistently, but-

All I'm suggesting is that...

maybe we, uh...

take some time...

to think about it for a while.

That's all.

- What are you doing? Wait a minute!
- Come here!

Horton Erhart must have awfully big pockets...

because that's- that's where
he keeps you, isn't it?

So, it won't be too difficult to prove
that we had our license suspended.

Now, perhaps you've noticed.
I'm not a very patient man these days...

and I don't want to have to sit through
any hearings or petitions or motions.

Huh?

Do you like the movies,
Mr. Bergman?

I mean the Disney movies,
for instance.

You don't have to say anything.
Just nod your head. I'll get the message.

Good. Good.

Because you and I are gonna play a little
scene from one of those fine family films...

in which you play the good fairy
who's gonna grant me three wishes.

One. I want you to confess,
in writing...

that Horton Erhart
paid you to pull our license.

Two. I'm gonna make damn sure
that I get that license before I leave.

And three.

You're gonna allow me to escort you to
the police station so you can turn yourself in.

What do you think of it so far, huh?

Well, I was beginning
to think...

I was gonna have to eat
in that Chinese restaurant all by myself.

- I'm here, aren't I?
- Well, I'll drink to that.

Are you okay?

Oh, dear.

William...

I don't know
how to tell you this...

but you were only chosen
to run for senator...

because somebody wanted me
to sink Horton Erhart's ship.

They knew that checking into your background
would ultimately lead to ScottJefferson.

Hmm. Well, look on
the bright side.

If it hadn't been for all that,
we might never have met.

You really are
something very special.

So are you.

Laura?

- Where are you going?
- I'm sorry, William...

but I can't
go through with it.

- I'm sorry.
- What happened? Is it me?

No. No. Of course not.

You're the reason
I've come this far.

But-

Well, I care very much
for someone who...

I think cares
very much for me, and-

and even though we can't figure out
a way to make it work...

I can't really leave
until I'm sure there's no reason to stay.

You understand?

No. Not really.

That's okay.

As long as I do.

Thanks.

Home, Fred.

Mr. Steele?

Hello?

Mr. Steele?

Mr. Steele?

Oh.

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