All language subtitles for The Streets of San Francisco s02e06 The Stamp of Death.eng

Excuse me.

Yes, who is it?

Glen.

But why the library?

Excuse me, business.

What are you doing here?

Looks like you buy another round,
buddy boy.

No more. I give up.

- One more line. Give you a chance.
- It's midnight already.

- What's the matter, you got a date?
- I wanna go to bed.

What do you do all day
but sit around on your slats.

- Come on. Loosen those kinks.
- I'm loose. I'm loose.

Lieutenant Stone. Telephone.

- One more line, we'll call it quits.
- Sure, one more line.

Yeah, Stone.

- When?
- Now.

All right, we'll be right over.

Game's over.
You owe me two beers. Come on.

Listen, why do I always have
to owe you when I can pay you?

Watching you bowl is pay enough.

Window was open.
Smudges on the windowsill.

There's a trellis outside.

- Burglary?
- Maybe.

But we can scratch one motive,
jewellery theft.

Did you see the ring
on that guy's little finger?

- No.
- It's gotta go for at least five figures.

- Anything else?
- No, that's it, Mike.

Two shots, point blank.
.32 calibre I'd say, but I'll check it out.

- Thanks.
- Nice shoes.

I forgot them.

Listen, why didn't you remind--?

Well, anyway, whoever it was
knew his way around.

Turned off the silent alarm.
Look at that.

You got anything?

Yeah, I talked to the butler
who found the body.

He said Sturdevant was missing
from the party for about 45 minutes.

Only he didn't want to intrude.

- Why not?
- Sturdevant had another hobby

besides stamps.

- Oh, he did?
- Yeah.

- And he brought them up here?
- Yeah.

I asked him for some names
but he wouldn't tell me.

He said, "Mr. Sturdevant
was very circumspect

about the women he was seeing."

Oh, he was, huh?

Well, what about the safe?

Would he know what was inside?

No. Only the business manager
would know what's in there.

Okay, then give him a call

and tell him we have
to audit the contents.

Right.

Fellows, the safe first,
then the windowsill.

Hey, Mike.

Yeah.

- It's the only stamp missing.
- Yeah.

British Guiana, 1850,
6-cent magenta.

Magenta, that's a colour, isn't it?

Kind of light purple?

Yeah, that's right.

And Guiana?

Well, it used to be a British colony.

It's called Guyana now, I think.

You think? Oh, you college guys
with all that esoteric information, huh?

Toss it in there
as though it's nothing at all.

- Just, "I think," you know.
- Look at those, will you?

I used to collect stamps
when I was a kid.

- You did?
- Yeah. Nothing like those, though.

These are rare, huh?

- This is the only one missing, huh?
- Yup.

Well, maybe it's worth stealing,
but murder?

Maybe we ought to ask
an expert.

Edward T. Hawkins.

Yeah. The last word's philately.
It means--

I know what it means.

- Stamps.
- Right.

No college,

but a lot of crossword puzzles.

Be right there.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Lieutenant Stone. Homicide.

Ed Hawkins, stamps.

You did say Homicide?

- James Sturdevant.
- Oh, yes,

I read about him in the newspaper
this morning. Awful.

- You did business with him.
- Of course,

he was a very good customer.

Several months ago,

- I offered him a Lallier.
- What's a Lallier?

Well, a Lallier album

is the first album published
for stamp collectors.

It's rare, of course,
but we run across one occasionally.

What do you know
about British Guianas?

I can tell you I wish I had some.

They're very expensive.

As a matter of fact, last year,
I sold Sturdevant five of them.

Now these,
they're the 2-cent yellow issue.

It was quite a coup for him.
He already had five.

It gave him ten in all.

1850 2-cent.

Twenty-five hundred dollars each?

That's correct.

Say, you wouldn't happen to know
how much the 6-cent mag--

Here it is.

Three hundred thousand dollars?

That's its estimated value.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Looks like there's writing on it.

The 1850 series
was initialled by the governor

or his subordinate in Georgetown,
it's the capital of British Guiana.

Well, why would it be
worth $300,000?

Oh, now, my goodness, lieutenant,

it's unique.

It's the only one of its kind
known to be in existence.

From 6 cents to $300,000?

Oh, come on.
There's gotta be something more.

Well, yes, there is...

...the mystery.

You see, nobody really knows
who owns it.

Ever since its first discovery
and sale,

the various owners have elected
to remain anonymous.

Sometime in the '30s,

President Roosevelt was supposed
to have had it in his collection

but he denied it.

Princes and potentates

would give their most valuable
possession

for the 6-cent magenta.

Oh, among true philatelists,

that stamp is like the Holy Grail.

It's a real mystery.

Well, it's not a real mystery
anymore.

It's murder.

I don't understand.

It looks as though whoever killed
Mr. Sturdevant

stole the 6-cent magenta.

Sturdevant? He had it?
Are you sure?

Well, we're checking it out

and you can do us a big favour
by keeping it under your hat.

Might help us find the killer.

Oh, of course. Of course.

If I can help you in any other way,
lieutenant, you just call on me.

I will, thank you very much.

You know,
I learned something today.

- Thank you.
- What do you got?

I got a name and a motive.

Give me the name.

One of the guests said Sturdevant
received a phone call

at approximately 10:45 p.m.
from somebody named Glen.

Now immediately after that,
he went up to the library.

- Glen who?
- Don't know yet, but the motive--

Is $300,000.

How did you know that?

Philately.

Did that guy in the store say
that Sturdevant owned the stamp?

He said nobody knows who owns it.

What about the business manager?

- Did he give you a rundown?
- Yeah, there's 1,500 in cash,

a couple of thousand in negotiables,
all in the safe untouched.

Now, I also took a look
at the insurance policy.

Sturdevant
had his entire collection covered.

The agent checked the list,
there's only one stamp missing.

"One rare stamp unidentified
at owner's request, value: $300,000."

- Grand Colonial Indemnity.
- 2013 Montgomery Street.

I called and told them
we're on our way.

- Good.
- The manager's name is Tom Wood.

No, that will not be acceptable.

Mr. Johnson, you were told two weeks
ago to have this report completed.

I would say
you now have about two hours.

- Yes, may I help you?
- Lieutenant Stone.

Oh, yes, just a moment.

He's been waiting for you.

Mr. Wood, the gentlemen
from the police department are here.

Terrible isn't it?
About Mr. Sturdevant?

Yes, it is. Did you know him?

Vaguely.

Tom Wood.

- Mike Stone.
- Hi. Stephen Keller.

If you don't mind,
we can talk on the way.

I'll introduce you to the man
who's been on this case

since this morning.
He has all the files.

- Is Chris in Miss Williams?
- Yes, sir. He's waiting for you.

If you'll follow me.

I suppose you want a copy
of the policy.

Oh, we have one
but he has a few questions.

- Shoot.
- Well, I guess you know

that Mr. Sturdevant's entire collection
is insured by your company.

And that each stamp
was specifically identified

except the one that was stolen.

Worth over a quarter
of a million dollars.

That's right.
Well, it's a little strange, isn't it?

Yes, it is. He apparently paid
a high premium for the privilege.

I have to apologise
for not being more specific

but you realise we underwrite
more than 5,000 policies a year.

I'm not able to keep up
with all the details myself.

What is the usual procedure

if you wanted to insure
something like that?

Well, the actual policies are written
by independent agents.

For something that valuable,

they'd have to secure
at least three expert appraisals

before we'd underwrite.

- Who are the appraisers?
- We don't know.

Their names are not in our files.

And frankly, I just don't know why.
Of course, we're looking into it.

Guess we'd like to talk to the agent
who wrote the policy, then.

So would I.

But he died two months ago.

We have one of our claims
investigators working on it right now.

He'll have all the specifics
you'll need.

Gentlemen, this is Chris Conway.

Good morning, gentlemen.

I was just going over the records.

I hope I can be
of some assistance to you.

How did they get that?

- Hawkins?
- He said he'd keep it confidential.

Yeah, well, it's pretty hard to keep
something like this quiet for long.

I guess you're right.

- Steve.
- Yeah.

You get with that dead agent's wife
and see if she remembers anything

since she talked to Conway, will you?

I'm gonna take a cab
and see if I can tap another pipeline.

- Mr. Conway.
- See you.

Mr. Conway, you said you would try
to run down those appraisers, right?

- Absolutely.
- You do that.

My car's around the corner,
can I give you a lift someplace?

- How about Broadway?
- Perfect.

Giants are 3-to-1. You're down.

Hey, lieutenant.

Three-to-one
the best you can do, Doc?

You know me. It's an old habit.
This is just pretend.

Just keeping your hand in,
so to speak.

Would I lie to you, lieutenant?

Hey, you're still working Homicide,
ain't you?

Haven't been switched
to another department?

Don't worry. I didn't see the book.

What are you hearing?

- Depends on what you wanna hear.
- Stamps. The rare kind.

Oh, look, I gave up the trade,
you know that.

I haven't fenced anything
for two years. Almost three now.

You still have eyes and ears.

The Sturdevant thing, huh?

Well, I did read something
about it in the paper.

He's a heavy collector
or something.

One stamp worth $300,000.
Heavy enough?

Ten percent of that is 30 G's.

That's what the insurance company
pays for recovery, isn't it?

So I hear.

But that's pretty specialised.

Somebody trying to move a sticker like
that, they'd have to be pretty careful.

It being tied in
with a murder and all.

Ask around.

- Quiet like.
- Sure.

Anything, anytime for you,
lieutenant.

And maybe for the money.

Arnie?

Be still.

How's it going?

Well, you about finished?

Take a look for yourself.

That looks perfect.

Too perfect.

The copy is still too sharp.

It's gonna have to be aged down.

How long does that take?

Nothing of value is ever born
of impatience, my friend.

Come on, Arnie, will you?

I got customers waiting
and I need those stamps tonight.

You'll have them.

How do you breathe in this place?

I have no trouble.

Then again, I've never killed anyone
in cold blood, Mr. Conway.

Tell me, is it worth it?

You tell me.

Ten little pieces of paper,
each one worth $2,500 apiece.

When you get through with them,
they'll be worth $300,000 apiece.

That's $3 million, baby.
You tell me.

Of which I only get 50,000.

You got a complaint?

Would you kill me if I did?

We made a deal, Arnie.

Don't get greedy on me.

I'm an old man of modest needs,
Mr. Conway.

I'll call you.

No, I'll call you.

Ten o'clock. That gives you 12 hours.
Now you be ready.

Chris.

Sorry I'm late.

- I've got the tickets.
- Terrific.

Terrific.

- Everything all right?
- Everything's just fine.

They're gonna be ready
this evening.

I thought he'd be finished
this morning.

Yeah, well, he's a perfectionist.
I can't help that.

Come on, honey, relax,
everything's fine.

What about the police?

That's no sweat.

And I gave the story
to the local papers.

And the wire services picked it up
and by now it's all over the globe.

Okay?

- Okay.
- Let's grab some lunch.

Oh, I have to get back.

What's your hurry?

Mr. Wood's flying to L.A. at 4:30
and I have to go with him.

I'll call you in the morning.

What, you're spending the night?

It's business.

Oh, come on, Chris. Not Mr. Wood.
He's over 50 years old.

Sturdevant was all of that too, eh?

I'll see you in the morning.

Honey, I'm sorry.

Look, we both made our mistakes
but that was three years ago, okay?

Pretty soon we're gonna be together.
Everything's gonna be fine.

Like it used to be.

I love you, Mrs. Conway.

I love you too, Mr. Conway.

Yeah, yeah, Charlie, I'm still here.

Okay, if you say so.

Yeah. Thanks, Charlie.

Anything from Prints?

No smudges or scratches
on the trellis

which means the windowsill
was a phoney.

The guest list is a dead end too.

Everybody that was invited
is accounted for.

Maybe he invited himself.

It was a very big party.

Maybes don't buy us much,
do they?

Come on, buddy boy.

Give me something encouraging.

Well, I understand the crime rate's
down in the big cities this month.

Come on, give me what you got.

The recently deceased
insurance agent.

He did die of a heart attack
like Conway said.

His estate's still in probate,
but his wife let me look at the files.

And?

I can't be sure until I check it
against the company files,

but from what I saw,

the premium Sturdevant paid
wasn't high enough

to cover a $300,000 stamp

plus all the other stamps
he had insured.

Okay, expert, you check it out
in the morning.

- Tomorrow. So, what did you get?
- Nothing. Just noodles.

Just noodles.
What about those missing appraisers?

Conway called in and said
they're still missing.

I don't get that.

But we do have one thing,
buddy boy.

- That stamp dealer, Hawkins?
- Right.

He said that he sold Sturdevant

five more of those 2-cent Guianas
last year.

- So making ten all together.
- Right.

But they're not accounted for
in the insurance policy.

He insured all the other rare stamps,
why wouldn't he protect these ten?

They're worth 25 G's.

Maybe he sold them.

I know.
Maybes don't buy very much.

Maybe there's something else.

You mean like maybe the man
who killed Sturdevant stole them.

Yeah. Yeah, and he didn't
want us to know,

so he leaves the stamp album open
on the desk

so that we'd be looking
for the one stamp

he wanted us to know
was stolen.

I mean, if you're gonna sell something
illegal,

you want the buyer to know
it's been stolen, right?

That ties in with the newspaper.

Homicide. Stone.

Yes, I'd be very interested.

May I ask who's calling, please.

Are you there now?

Yeah, I'll be right over.

Somebody wants to talk about
the 6-cent magenta.

Is it a fence?

I don't know.

At the Chinese Consulate?
Are you kidding? Come on.

Yes. Who is it?

No, I'm sorry, I'm not finished yet.

Yes, I know what time it is
but I won't be done until morning.

Don't bother to come
until the morning, I said.

I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't reveal
his name or his residence.

All I can tell you
is that he lives in Hong Kong,

he's very wealthy,

and he assures me
he still possesses

the only authenticated 1850
6-cent magenta.

- He told you that himself?
- By telephone this evening.

I understand he'll be mailing you
notarized documents

to prove his claim.

This man is well-known to us.
I'm sure he wouldn't lie.

Maybe somebody lied to Sturdevant.

- Sold him a forgery.
- Maybe.

And maybe the guy that killed him
got just what he was looking for.

Oh, I appreciate your call.
Thank you very much.

Sure.

What are you talking about?

Those ten missing stamps.

I'm beginning to believe
that whoever killed Sturdevant,

didn't kill him
because he owned the magenta,

but because he didn't.

Not here.

You're sure?

I've been through the whole collection
twice, lieutenant.

Could he have sold them?

Oh, not without my knowing about it.

No, the 2-cent Guianas
are not unique,

but they are rare enough for the trade
to keep an accurate record of them.

Besides, Mr. Sturdevant, he only
dealt through a bona fide dealer.

All right, let's assume
that they were stolen.

They darn near look alike,
don't they?

So couldn't somebody fix them

or alter them somehow so that they
would look like the 6-cent magenta?

Well, now, with skill and patience,

I suppose someone
could copy the face,

forge the initials,
even duplicate the ink.

Now, the 2-cent Guianas
are surface dyed.

So the ink wouldn't permeate
the paper. They could be bleached.

- Bleached?
- Oh, yes,

the most difficult thing to duplicate,

especially with the rare issues,

- is the paper.
- Okay.

Okay, let's say the guy
has ten big ones. All counterfeit.

How tough would they be
to move?

Well, now, since the owners
of the Guiana

have traditionally remained
anonymous,

I suppose it's possible that we'd
never hear of any of the sales.

Ten times $300,000.

That's a lot of motive.

- You think it's possible?
- Oh, yes, forgery and counterfeiting

are much more prevalent
than many people realise.

It is, huh?

Wait a minute.

You know, a gentleman came
to see me last month.

We had the same conversation.

- About counterfeiting?
- No. About the 6-cent magenta.

He was most interested in the dye.

- You know his name?
- No. He didn't tell me that.

But he did tell me that he was
recommended to me

by a dealer who knew about
my particular fondness for the Guiana.

Well, who was that?

He didn't tell me that either.

- Can you describe him?
- Oh, yes.

He was elderly, maybe 55 or 60.

He was small. Wiry.
You know what I mean.

Oh, he had the most delicate hands,
I remember that.

Anything else? Colour of hair?
Eyes?

What about mannerisms? Scars?

No.

He had a lovely smile.

Was he an American?

Oh, yes. Or at least
I assumed he was.

I'm sorry, gentlemen,
I can't remember.

Well, you've been a big help,
Mr. Hawkins.

- We'll drive you back.
- Thank you.

Small, wiry about 55 or 60.

You know, I remember a guy
about five or six years ago.

He'd be about 55 now.

Gee, I can't remember his name.

Well, anyway we found out one thing,
buddy boy.

Sturdevant never had the magenta.

Which means that somebody made up
a phoney insurance policy

to make it look like he did.

Or he planted a phoney in the safe
so that we would find it,

- do exactly what we've been doing.
- The copy in the office was fixed too.

It's gotta be an inside job.

I'll drop you off
at the insurance company.

I've got to see Doc.

Oh, and listen. Pull the book
on the counterfeiters.

Start thumbing through the pages.

Maybe we'll get lucky.

- Gone? What do you mean, gone?
- I mean he's gone.

I went there this morning, the door
was locked and he was not there.

He probably, last night,
just finished up

and stalled me
to buy himself some time.

You said you knew him.
We could trust him.

Well, right now, baby,
I don't know who I can trust.

What's that supposed to mean?

I tried to call you last night
after I talked to Jenkins.

Where were you?
You weren't in your room.

I was out with Mr. Wood.

While we're at it,

how do I know you and Jenkins
didn't work something out?

Now look, this whole thing
was your idea.

You got me into this.

Yeah, well, don't worry,
I'm gonna get us out of it.

As far as I can tell,

Jenkins isn't gonna be able
to sell those stamps by himself.

He's gonna be looking for a fence.

- Now maybe--
- Hello.

Good morning.

Hi.

Look, it's not urgent, Glen,

just tell him I'd like to see him
sometime today, okay?

Yes, sir.

You're the early bird
of the team, huh?

Yeah, I guess so.

Excuse me, did I hear right,
your name is Glen?

My father wanted a boy.

Did you get my message?

No. No.

This is probably what you're here for.

- Premium payments, right?
- That's right.

I called you as soon
as I noticed this.

Now these are the figures I dug
out of the agent's file.

I checked them this morning
against our own ledger.

- And they differ?
- Our books show that Sturdevant

paid a much higher premium
than what the agent wrote down.

I guess somebody around here
made a mistake.

You've worked here for a while.

Do you have any idea
who that might be?

Well, see, I've only been
with the company about six months.

But I'll run a trace on it.

Good.

Anything else?

No. I guess that's it.

- Thank you.
- Okay.

Say, did Stone get anything
from his pipeline?

His what?

From his contact?

See, yesterday when I dropped
him off, I figured he was gonna--

I don't know, gonna meet a fence
or something.

I mean, somebody that might know
if there's any action on the street.

No.

- Did I get any messages?
- Nope.

I don't know what could have
happened to that guy.

I must have checked
every back alley I know.

And believe me, in my 20 years,

I've picked up a lot of back alleys.

What is this, two volumes?

- It's a popular profession.
- That's gonna take us all week.

Why can't I remember
that guy's name?

Must be getting old or something.

Listen, he was booked
with Al Karlinski.

Pull his jacket, maybe it's cross-filed.

- Listen, I think I've got something.
- Name began with a J. Go on. Shoot.

Conway. The Sturdevant premium
payments do not match.

- He didn't notice it until this morning.
- Here it is. J.

You're a good cop
and he's a lousy claims investigator.

He's not lousy
according to his personnel file.

IQ, 127. Reaction to stress, superior.
Motivation, excellent.

- Efficiency quotient, superior.
- So?

So it doesn't jive with what I got
from the L.A.P.D. this morning.

Seems he applied to the academy
a few years back and couldn't cut it.

Now their file shows prior experience,
merchant marine, four months,

cab driver, six months.

Private investigator licence revoked
for failure to renew.

He may not be a loser,
but he ain't a winner.

Come on. Give me the zinger,
will you?

The insurance company
had no written references on him

but the L.A.P.D. did.

They also had him listed as married.
His wife's first name: Glen.

- Glen?
- That's right.

Same as the phone call
to Sturdevant?

Same as Wood's secretary.

Miss Williams?

That's quite a coincidence.

Little Miss Sunshine's
got her dark side too maybe.

Yeah.

Homicide, Stone.

Hey, lieutenant.

Doc, where have you been?

Oh, around.
How's it going, lieutenant?

I need help. What have you got?

Oh, I drew a blank. Nothing.

Oh, come on,
you have to have something.

Now wouldn't I tell you if I did?
I'm not sneezing at any 30 G's.

All right, then I'm gonna tell you
something.

A small guy, wiry about 55 or 60.
Good hands.

Could be an artist, a counterfeiter,

a printer. Knows all about dyes.

He was busted about five years ago
with Al Karlinski.

Karlinski and five years, you say?

That's right about five--

Wait a minute, Doc.

You gave him to me.

He's the same guy that was involved
in that phoney stock deal.

Didn't his name begin with a J?

Yeah, I know it did. Jensen. Jenkins.

Willy Jenks, isn't that it, Doc?

Jenks.

Yeah, I think you got it, lieutenant.

Yeah, it was Jenks. Billy Jenks.

That's right, Doc. Billy Jenks.
You know where he is now?

Oh, last I heard he was in Folsom.

Let's see, that's Billy Jenks,
a.k.a. Arnie Jenkins.

Printer.
Paroled September 13th, 1972.

Paroled? No kidding.

Well, okay, I'll sniff around.

Yeah, let me know
when you get something.

Oh, Doc, thanks a lot.

I'm going after a warrant.

I'll call his parole officer
for his last address.

Good.

I'll get the back.

Mr. Jenkins?

Mr. Jenkins?

Jenkins.

- Steve?
- Yeah.

Guess he's not here.

He's here.

But he's not gonna tell us anything.

It's not printer's ink.

What about the rag? Same stuff?

Yeah, it looks like a special mixture.

It's a surface-type dye.

This is an ordinary-type cleaner.
This is common peroxide.

What about the newsprint?

There's some sort of printing on it.
I can't make anything of it.

Mr. Hawkins. This way.

There you are, lieutenant.
This is all very exciting.

So glad you could come
to help again.

Mr. Hawkins, you said a counterfeiter
might use a bleach to reuse a stamp.

What kind of bleach would he use?

The same thing the ladies
use on their hair. Peroxide.

- I can't make this out.
- You mind taking a look?

- Oh, heavens, no.
- I have a meeting with the coroner.

- If you need me, I'll be in his office.
- Thank you.

This is a portion of a reproduction--

Excellent likeness, too,
though it hasn't been dyed.

--of the 6-cent magenta.

Well, have you caught him yet.
The murderer?

No.

You do understand, of course,
that this is all very confidential.

Of course, but do you realise
how easily

those counterfeits
can be taken out of the country.

There must be at least a score
of wealthy collectors

be happy to pay catalogue prices
for the magenta.

Don't you think
they should be alerted?

No, I don't think so.

You see the ten stamps are the only
lead we have to two murders.

And if we tip up our suspect,
he might destroy the evidence.

Well, if there's nothing else I can do.

Thank you for coming.

Jenkins didn't work alone.

He had to have help and I bet it came
from inside the insurance company.

That's what I think. Conway.

He's on top of the list.

Beautiful. You're just beautiful.

What the hell did you expect?

He's gone, Glen.

That's 3 million bucks
right out the window.

I was an idiot to listen to you.

You know what I got hanging
over me now? A murder wrap.

If you didn't wanna kill Sturdevant,

why didn't you just
ask him for money?

You've always been good
at begging.

You're really something,
you know that?

You're a real live
man-eating cannibal.

Me. Sturdevant.
Anybody that fails old Glen.

You just chew them up and spit them
out like garbage, don't you?

Let me tell you something,
you're not leaving me holding the bag.

You killed Sturdevant
just as much as I did.

Just as much.

Did I?

That's right.

You set him up.

You gave me the gun
and you told me what to do.

All because he jilted you.
Because he turned you down

for some other dumb skirt.

You thought you were gonna be
Mrs. Rich, didn't you?

That's enough, Chris.

So now what?

I don't know.

You never did.

Where's the gun?

- What do you want the gun for?
- To get rid of it.

It's in the drawer.

Listen, why don't we just leave,

why don't we just get on a plane
and take off.

I can get a job. I know I can.

We can be together. I need you,
honey. I've always needed you.

So you want me to carry you again.

Job to job. City to city.
Scrounging for rent.

I won't do that, Chris.

It's Jenkins, that has to be Jenkins.

Hello, Arnie? Wher--?

Who is this?

What?

Yeah, I know.

Now, wait--

Lis--

Hello?

Hello.

- Who was it?
- I don't know. Just a guy.

He said he's got the stamps.

- He wants to make a deal for half.
- When?

Now. Now, he said.

It's got to be some kind of a trick.

I mean, who knows about it?
Who knows--?

Who knows to call me here?

Leave that stuff alone.

Where did this man say
he'd meet you?

On the beach, he said.
Just south of the cliff house.

You're not going.

Would you like to do it?

I can't do that, Glen.

I can't do that anymore.

Can you?

How will I know who he is?

How, Chris?

He said he'd be wearing a flower.
A magenta-coloured flower.

A sense of humour.

I like that.

And a lot of confidence.

- Glen, you can't just--
- Yes, I'd like a cab, please.

2200 Walnut, right away.

Thank you.

Glen, why don't we just--

Don't worry, hon.

It'll all work out.

- Hey, did you see who that was?
- Glen Williams.

Who is it?

Lieutenant Stone.
I'd like to talk to you, Conway.

Just a minute.

There's an alley out back.

Take it easy, will you?

- Where are the stamps?
- I haven't got them.

Airline ticket. One way.
Mr. and Mrs. Conway.

She was in your apartment.
Where did she go?

I don't have to tell you anything.

That's right, you don't.

That was a Golden Gate Cab.

- Call the dispatcher.
- Right.

Eighty-one to headquarters.

Hey, Dad, we're up here.

Looking for somebody, lady?

I'm meeting someone for a friend.

I know a guy,

name's Conway.

That's my friend.

Where is he?

He's out.

Out where?

All the way out.

Finished.

Where's Jenkins?

Jenkins?

I guess you could say he's out too.

Permanently.

You have the stamps?

One.

Just one.

You move it.

We'll split fifty-fifty.

And then I'll give you the next one.

I want them all.

Now.

Hold on to this guy.

Now, that isn't smart, lady.

But if you're all that intense about it,

well, maybe I can live
with a smaller percentage.

I don't think you can.

If you pull that trigger,
what are you gonna get,

just one stamp, right?

Wouldn't you really rather deal
for all ten?

I know you got the customers
on tap.

Mrs. Conway.

We have your husband.

Lady, you pull that trigger now,
we're both dead.

Put the gun down.

- I didn't kill anyone.
- I know.

Just drop the gun, Mrs. Conway.

Hi, Doc.

Do you mind stepping over here
a bit?

Thirty-eight calibre.

What was that you were saying
about being out of the trade?

You know, I'm beginning to think
you're right.

What's the charge?

Suspicion of murder.

And having a magenta mouth.

Mike,

from Hong Kong.

Along with notarized documents
proving ownership

and possession
of one 6-cent British Guiana.

- What?
- The stamp.

It's a proof of ownership
from the Chinese consulate.

Here.

Read this telegram just came.

"To detective in charge
Sturdevant case.

Have client who wishes
remain anonymous.

But certain authentic 6-cent magenta
British Guiana is not,

repeat, not involved
in your investigation."

Read where it came from.

"London, England."

London?

Well, buddy boy, I guess this is one
mystery we are never going to solve.

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