All language subtitles for 05.10 Luther Gillis - File No.001

Higgins, did you wanna
hire me personally?

Yes, but...
I'm gonna need

a little assistance,
that's all.
Sort of a legman.

You are simply to be his
"legman", as he describes it.

The day I'm
Tom Magnum's legman

is the day I sit on a street
corner selling pencils

and drinking cheap pink
out of a paper bag.

I am going inside with you.

You don't know anything
about cowboy joints.

You could get into
serious trouble.

Every time I do
a favor for the big guy,
I end up in this dump.

Payday.

I'm well aware of that.
Why in blazes
do you think I...

Here.

Thank you.
I'll see you next time.

Same place. No cops.

Please...

What?

How much longer?

I asked you
how much longer.

Happiness
is a relative state,

especially as it applies
to the delicate subjects of
work and obligations.

It's a constant turmoil,
and that's where the big
"O" comes in. Obligations.

Like in whether you take
a case because of the money,

because of friendship
and loyalty, or simply
because you have to.

Well, after three weeks
on a tough case

on the North Shore,
all that was irrelevant.

I was happy.

That's because
all my obligations were
part of the past.

Or the distant future.

At any rate,
I wasn't going to
worry about them.

I finally was going
to just rest and kick back.

Hey, Thomas,
where have you been?
I really need your help.

I got a problem
you just wouldn't believe.
Thomas, you got to help me!

What, Rick?

I got a chance to go out
tonight with Belinda Kowalski,

but the catch is
she won't go unless I find
somebody to double

with her roommate, Geraldine.

Please, pal, you got to come.

You got to help me.
I'm in love.

Please.
What do you say?

No.
Thank you.

Hello, Magnum.
I trust you're well.

Good. I need a favor done
of an investigative nature.
I assume you are free?

Good.

A very close friend of mine

owns a majority interest
in Kaimuki Savings and Loan.

Apparently, someone
in the real estate
loan department

has been doing some
long-term embezzling
of the firm's funds.

Consequently, it's been
arranged for you to begin
work there tomorrow,

under the guise
of a loan officer,

to attempt to
ferret out the culprit.

No one in the office will be
aware of your true identity,

since all employees
are suspect.

Please report
to Ms. Cathcart,

the officer manager,
at 8:00 sharp.

She's expecting you.
Further instructions from me
will be on your computer.

Your personal access
code is "Rosebud".

Thank you, Magnum,
and good luck.

Yuck.

Hello, Magnum.
Robin again

with a further reminder.

Please wear a suit and tie.

Polyester, if possible.

Bye now.

Come in.

Higgins.

Yes, you are quite
correct, Magnum.

You knocked?

Of course I knocked.
What civilized
gentleman wouldn't?

You never knock.

You always just
barge right in.

You sick or something?
Feeling okay?

I'm feeling quite fine,
Magnum.

And I'm not here
to discuss my health.

I am here to approach you
about a case.

Oh! I know.

You know?

Of course, I know.

My God.
How could you...

It's all here
on the answering machine.
Robin told me.

And yes, I will clean up
and wear a tie, I promise.

But I draw the line at
wearing a polyester suit.

Mr. Masters hired you
on a case?

Yeah. That's right.
Kaimuki Savings and Loan.

Oh, I think Robin didn't want
to wait for you to tell me.

I know I've been gone
a lot... Higgins?

Higgins, did you wanna
hire me personally?

Yes, but...

It's relatively unimportant,
and in as much as
you are already disposed,

I'm sure I can make
other arrangements.

After all, I'm sure
it's something that

any semi-competent
detective could do.

Forget I brought
it up, Magnum.

Wait, wait, wait, Higgins.

You've never wanted
to hire me, I mean...

I guess you've come to
appreciate me for
the professional that I am.

I'm gonna help you, pal.

Well...

All right then. Thank you.

However, even though,
as I've said,

the case itself is
relatively unimportant...

Wait. Wait.

This isn't something
stupid, is it?

Like the trisected
Paulo worm or the kudu buck?

Nevertheless,

you should be cautioned
that the matter requires

the greatest
discretion and tact,

qualities which in the past
you have been sorely lacking.

However, at the moment I have
no other recourse, so...

My situation began
some 30 years ago...

Higgins, before you go on,

I think there is something
that I should tell you.

What?

Well, because of
my other commitment to Robin,

I can only handle
this case in a sort of
supervisorial fashion.

What is it you are
attempting to say, Magnum?
If you're not going to...

No, I am, I am.
I'll be right on top of it.

It's just that
because of this other
Savings and Loan thing,

I'm gonna need
a little assistance,
that's all.

Sort of a legman.

If you're contemplating
using Rick or T. C...

No, no, no, not Rick or T.C.

Then who?

Well, it's someone
with a real private
investigator's license.

Who?

Someone with a great deal
of discretion and tact.

Who?

Someone who'll be just right.

Who?

Does the phrase,
"Stuff it, Scrungo"
ring a bell?

Oh, my God.

Hiya, kiddos.
Name's Gillis, Luther.
You remember me.

I'm the big-time,
big-city gumshoe
from Saint Louis.

The one that keeps
having to come out
to the Big Pineapple

to save the neck
of my brother P.I.,
Tom Magnum.

Anyway, I was getting
so good at it,

I guess he kind of
felt obligated,

especially when I told him
that my secretary, Blanche,

quit waiting for me
to tie the knot

and ran off with this
encyclopedia salesman guy.

I had to close the office
and everything.

But who cares?
Her loss.

I could tell that the big guy
felt awful about it, too,

'cause even though
he wouldn't let me
stay with him,

'cause they're remodeling
the mansion or something,

he did promise me and cross
his heart that he'd swing
the next extra case my way.

Even gave me a line
on this neat office.
What a prince.

And he even came
through with the case.

Holy cow, I expected
some action.
But this fast?

Hey, my pal
Tom Magnum delivers,

even if it was
just the butler cat.

But a case is a case.

I think I'll call
this one File 001.

My maiden voyage here
in Banana Land.

Hey, you're right on time.

Which is more than
can be said for you.

Additionally, how dare
you leave the phone number
of the estate

on your office door
where anyone off
the street can copy it?

How dare you?

Gee, I'm sorry.
I didn't think you'd mind.

Mind? Mind?

Mr. Masters' private line.
The red phone.
Why would I mind?

How in bloody hell
did you get it?

I probably jotted it down
the last time I was by.

I only did it
because I didn't have time
to go to the phone company

and have one put in yet.

Hey, big deal.
It'll only be
for a few days.

Hardly. I'll have it
changed immediately.

Now, may we proceed?

Certainly.

You were doing
a pretty good job

of explaining it on the phone
till I ran out of dimes.

Now, there's only one thing
I don't understand.

Just one?

Hey, do you want me
to handle this or not?

You're not handling it.
Magnum is.

You are simply to be his
"legman", as he describes it.

Yeah, yeah. The day
I'm Tom Magnum's legman

is the day I sit on a street
corner selling pencils

and drinking cheap pink
out of a paper bag.
Now, let's get on with it.

Gladly. Now, what is it
that you do not understand?

Now, why didn't you tell
the lady in England
she was being blackmailed?

Perhaps the concept of honor
is an alien one to you,

as is the one, "gentleman".
Hey...

Nevertheless,
under no circumstances

should Elizabeth Andrews be
made aware of the situation.

She is a member of
the House of Commons,

and her career would be
in ruins if there were
the slightest inkling

that she had had
an illegitimate son.

As a matter of fact,
Elizabeth...

Mrs. Andrews
is frequently mentioned
as a potential candidate

for prime minister
from her party.

Oh, yeah?
I'm real impressed.

Except how could she be
the mother of a country

when she can't be
the mother of her kid?

Unless it ain't her kid.

I beg your pardon?

What I'm saying is,

what if this Eric
fellow ain't hers?

If only that were so.

But the blackmailers
have presented me with
empirical evidence.

Birth certificates,
medical and school records,
adoption papers.

The child is undoubtedly hers.

How come they came
to you in Hawaii
instead of her in England?

Well, obviously...
Obviously, it's somebody
who you bought.

Someone out of your past.

The only person I've had
any contact with is the...

Go on, say it.

Bagman. Let me tell you
something, Hig.

Blackmail's an ugly business.
You got to get used to it.

I did.

Now let me get
some more facts.

How old is the little nipper?

Thirty.

Months?
Years.

The assignation
in question took place
in Mrs. Andrews' youth,

when she was a young woman
growing up in Kenya.

It must have been
awfully Ionely out there
on the veldt.

Hey,

you mess around,
you got to pay the piper.

I know, believe me.

I'm sure you do.

Damn right.

Look, your lady friend's
in trouble,
we're gonna help her.

But don't try to convince me
she's some kind of saint.

She's a broad.
All the same.

So are kidnappers
and extortionists.

None of them like
to be kept waiting.

So let's go.

They're all the same.

So are private investigators.

Pull over.
I think I'm gonna
toss my cookies.

T. C: Pull over where?

Anywhere,
but do it fast.

T. C: Oh, no.

I'm sorry.

T. C: Sorry?

It's bad enough that I let
Magnum con me into flying you
all over the place,

but now I got to...
- Please, shut up.

Here comes
the Mongolian beef.

T. C: Okay, okay, okay, okay.

At least there are
no bullet holes.

All right, we're here.

Hey, you know,
this is kind of neat
once you get used to it.

I never pulled a tail
in an aeroplane before.

Chopper.

You know, it's kind of nice
when get used to it.

It kind of reminds me of...

Don't look at me.
I'm just Tom Magnum's legman.

Okay, I know
what you're thinking.

Maybe I shouldn't have
given the case to Luther.

Maybe this was something
really serious.

But on the other hand,
I kind of doubted it.

Because on closer examination,

even T.C. Had to admit
that the bullet did not come
from the car

he and Luther were tailing.
It came from behind them.

Probably pakalolo growers.

Therefore, I didn't
have any qualms about
Luther continuing

with whatever Higgins'
little problem was.

Especially since I was
going to be really tied up

with this important
embezzlement case for Robin.

I figured as long as I was
telling Luther what to do,
he'd be okay.

Kind of like following
in my footsteps.

Put it on my tab.

You don't have a tab.

Who cares?
The big guy does.

Find anything out
yet from Ice Man?

It's Ice Pick.

What's the difference?
The guy's a bum.

I'm kind of inclined to
sneak into his steam bath
and snap his towel.

You know what I mean?

I wouldn't do that
if I were you.

Oh, yeah?

Hi, Hig, what's shaking?

Absolutely nothing,
except for the fact that
you're off the case.

Hello?
You and Magnum.

I should have known
the situation was too delicate

to entrust to a detective
who sublets.

I will endeavor now...

Hey, hey, what are you
talking about?

We're just getting
started here.

Fortunately, you won't
be around to finish.

I'll send Magnum a check.
He can divide it with you
anyway he likes.

No. They can
divide it with me.

$833.97.

That's how much
a new plate
is gonna cost you.

Put it on
the big guy's tab.

His tab is history.
Quite.

Let me tell
you guys something.

Nobody takes a shot at
Luther Gillis or his pals

and gets away with it.
Nobody.

That ain't a part of life.

That's why I'm gonna
find the crud who shot
your aeroplane

and the crud who's
blackmailing your lady friend

if I have to go
to the end of the earth
or I can't crawl anymore.

Luther H. Gillis
finishes what he starts.

All I need is a clue.

Cal's Country Bar
and Billiard Den.
West Kilauea Street.

That's where the guy
hangs out.

There's an old saying.
I think it was by me,

that a private eye is only
as good as the kind of clues

and the kind of clients
he's got to work with.

On this case, I figured
it was about 50-50.

Pretty good clue,
so-so client.

Now, you wait here.
I'll be right back.

I'm not waiting anywhere.
I am going inside with you.

You can't go inside.

I should've never let you
talk me into coming along
in the first place, but I...

But you are indeed
lucky to still be employed,
Mr. Gillis. Furthermore...

Furthermore, you don't know
anything about cowboy joints.

You could get into
serious trouble.

Nonsense.
I'm quite conversant with
the ways of the West.

How? How?

Did you grow up on
Tom Mix and Hopalong Cassidy
at the Bijou?

Did you? Did you?

I know just how to
talk to these guys.

They'll tell me
where Warren is.

They certainly ain't
gonna tell any old limey.

Who you calling a limey, boy?

Where'd you learn
to talk like that?

Let's just say
it's a family trait.

Brew.

Two.

Howdy, partners.

Name's Elmo Ziller.
I poke from Hondo, Texas.

This here's
my partner, Hubert.

How about a friendly game
to pass the time?

I ain't got no quarter.

You got any quarters, Artie?

Nope.

Sure don't, Dexter.

I ain't had no quarters since
last Thursday when that feller
and his monkey come through.

Yeah. Sucker sure could dance.

We're out of quarters
till payday.

When's payday?

Never.

We was just fired off
from the Double-D
over the Ewa way.

Double-D?

Never heard of it.
What'd you raise,
stock or ponies?

Fish.

It's a tuna fish boat.

Now, how about that game?

You got it, son.

Rack them up, Hubert.

Right.

What you all know
about a good old boy,
name of Warren?

Break them, stranger.

Say, why don't we
make this interesting?

Like 20 bucks'
worth of interesting?

Eight ball
in the side pocket.

That's the way to do it.

That's real nice shooting.

Just lucky, I guess.
Yeah.

You know, Elmo and I
ought to be getting

before we plumb
run out of the money
we owe poor old Warren.

You got a point, Hubert.

These boys here
are just too good.

Where'd you say
Warren was?

Didn't.

But you might could find him
around the Double-D
about midnight.

Fishing at midnight?

He's the dock watchman.

Great. Well, thanks, boys.

Elmo and I ought to be
moseying along.

Wait a sec, Hubert.

How about
one more game, Dex?

Just give me one last chance
to get some of my money back.

Sure. I think
that's only fair.

How much?

$500.

Rack them up, Hubert.

Eight ball in the corner.

Hey!
- What?

Oh, my God.
- Get off the table.

Say, they don't talk
like that in Hondo.

Nobody trips Luther Gillis!

Come on, Hig,
let's get out of here.

Hey, help us!
Get them!

Hurry!

Hurry! My God, man,
they're going to...

I can't.
I left the keys in the bar.

Let me see
what I can do about
these applications.

Everything seems
to be in order.

Mr. Magnum, please.

I'm sorry. Sorry.

That's Mrs. Cathcart.
She is the office manager.

I have to pretend
you need a loan

for your medical bills.

Listen, big guy,
you're getting half
the retainer on this one

and we're taking
all the lumps.

That's because
I am the supervising
investigator.

Be that as it may, Magnum,
we've come up with a lead.

The known whereabouts
of the man I've been
dealing with.

Now, I suggest we go
speak with him.

Yeah, tonight,
when he's on duty down
at the Double-D docks.

We'll go down
and stuff his gills.

We can't go down
and stuff his gills.

Why not? You chicken?

Not really, Luther.

It just appears that
this case is neither
fish nor fowl.

I refuse to sit here
any longer
and subject myself

to this childishly
inane behavior.
Furthermore...

Sit down.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm just a little dingy.

I've been working on
this very important case
for Robin all day

and tomorrow
I will get to

your "relatively unimportant"
case. Your words.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. Please sit down.

Please.

Now, we can't
go down to the docks

because I have to work on
the bank computer all night.

I mean, there's
a time clock running on
this embezzling thing,

and if you can
give me till tomorrow,

then I'll go down and see
this Warren guy myself.

How?

He'll be off work by then.

I'll get his address
out of the computer.

He's got to have
a bank account somewhere.

Come on, you guys
did the legwork.

Leave the sophisticated
part of the case to me.

Very well.

Okay. You guys go home,
get some rest

and we'll touch base
tomorrow.

And don't forget
those pesky little
IRS statements.

I'll drop you off
at your office.

Yeah. Thanks.
Where you going?

The estate.

You're lying.

I beg your pardon?

You're lying.

You're thinking about
heading down to the dock.

You're thinking that Magnum's
not gonna do anything but play
with his computer all night.

And that ain't doing
your common lady friend
a damn bit of good.

It would be unfair to ask you
to take that risk.

Big deal. Who cares?

I was born taking risks.

Besides, I'm kind of
thinking about a lady, too.

Blanche?

Your daughter Nancy?

Your first wife?

All of them.
Let's go.

Boy,
this place stinks.

Kind of reminds me...

Here we are.

Where is he?

Don't worry, Zorba.

I'll make him come to us.
How?

Fifteen men on
a dead man's chest, yo ho ho

And a bottle of rum...
My God.

Anchors aweigh my boys...

What are you doing?

I'm trying to find Warren.

I think you just did.

Freeze.
You're under arrest!

I want out of this hole now!

Look, I've been
in much worse,
I can assure you.

Calcutta, '49, and '50.

Who cares?

Every time I do
a favor for the big guy
I end up in this dump.

I hate it.

It's like going home
for Christmas.

The only difference is,
neither the big guy

nor the suicidal bum,
Scrungo, is here.

Instead, I'm stuck with you.

I'm disgusted.
The feeling is mutual,
I assure you.

Yeah, well, that goes
double for me.

I should've never taken you
with me in the first place.

That was mistake number one.

The first of many.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Obviously, your primitively
crude surveillance techniques
forced the blackmailers to,

one, take a shot at you
in the helicopter

to try to dissuade you
from tailing Warren,

and two, that failing,

they had no choice
but to kill him
when you loudly announced

your intentions
in the cowboy bar.

Don't you loudly
intentions me, buster!

I didn't make the run
on that table and make
those guys crazy.

I was willing to leave
with the info.

Neat and clean.

Now look where we are.

Incarcerated.
"Discretion and tact".

Hogwash.

Speaking of hogwash,

did you get ahold
of your shyster yet?

They're trying to track him
down at the Polo Club.

The Polo Club?
Well, hoity-toity-toity.

What do we do till then, rot?

I was hoping
I would never have to see you
ever again, Mr. Gillis.

Likewise.

I must have been
a pretty bad person
in my previous life.

You couldn't be worse
than a copper.

Or a private eye.

Nevertheless, I have my duty.

You're new at this, Hig.

This is where he threatens us
with a murder rap unless
we answer some questions.

Yeah. Questions like,

what was your relationship
to the deceased?

I've never seen
the gentleman before
in my life.

Then what were you doing
down at the waterfront?

It was late
and we were hungry.

Him I could expect this from.

But you, you,
Jonathan Higgins? Never.

There's always a first time,
Lieutenant.

I want answers.

What about Warren Brummer?

I think he was
working for scale.

I'm warning you both.

Maybe I can't make
a murder charge stick,

but I can yank
your license, Gillis.

As for you, Higgins,
I can call the newspapers

and make your life
awfully miserable
and awfully public.

Who cares?
Why don't you go dust
the fish for some prints?

Meanwhile, if you're not
gonna press charges, aloha.

Ditto.

Here's where he says...

Don't leave town!

I told you to wait for me.
I told you!

But no, you had to
force things.

Big deal. The crud's dead.
We need a new lead.

Now you do.

Now all this information
I pulled out on
Warren Brummer is irrelevant.

How'd you get this stuff?
This is a bank.

I have a friend
in the prosecuting
attorney's office.

Carol let our computers
talk to each other.

Bank robbery,
extortion, bigamy.

Gee, that's too bad.

Who's gonna let all
his wives know he's dead?

What now?

Well, my guess is Brummer
was killed because you two
got too close to him.

And whoever
the blackmailers are,

they just didn't want
to get rousted just yet.

What a genius.

They'll probably
wait a little while
and contact you.

Start all over again.

Why didn't you wait?

It ain't my nature.

Besides, the butler didn't
want to wait either.

Well, at least you're not
up on misdemeanor trespassing
charges. Tanaka called.

The owner of the Double-D,
Dan Davies, he's not going
to press charges.

He's willing to forget
the whole thing.

My lucky day.

Hey.

It's quite all right.
I just lost my footing.
I'm okay.

You better get him
back to the estate.

Maybe you could
do me a favor.

I'm way ahead of you.

I'll stay with him
till you get back.

Thanks.

It'll be in the morning.
I've got to stay up all night
with the computer again.

Yeah.

Don't do anything
I wouldn't do.

So much for
sweet dreams in paradise.

I guess I'm used to either
freezing Saint Louis winters

or summer nights
that could steam the starch
out of your shorts.

At any rate, I couldn't sleep.

And I don't think
it was the accommodations.

I mean this place sure beats
the heck out of the Y.

It was something
about this case
that was bothering me.

And it was more than the fact
that we'd run out of leads.

It was the butler cat.
Something about him
just wasn't right.

I mean, every other time
I've come out here,

I mean he's crazy
and everything, but he's cool.

And this time, he ain't.

Like this case was personal
to him or something.

Now, it ain't my nature
to be snooping around
someone's private stuff,

but Rule Number 41 says
you can make an exception,

if you think your client's
not telling the whole story.

And in this case, I didn't
think the butler was.

I demand an explanation.

Why don't you go first?

You can start by explaining
why you didn't tell us that
this kid we're trying to save

is yours.

Do you remember
where you were in the spring
of '54, Mr. Gillis?

Did you idle your youth
away on the back streets,

fire escapes
and stoops of the city?

Were you
in love, Mr. Gillis?

No.

I've seen it, though.

That year I was with
the Saint Louis Browns
in St. Pete.

It was Spring training.

A client of mine asked me
to find his wife.

She'd run off
with the third-base coach.

I followed the club down
there and pretended I was
a rookie trying out.

Third base.
They cut me, though.
I wasn't good enough.

What about the case?

I was fired.

You didn't catch them?

Of course I did.

We're talking
Luther H. Gillis, P.I., here.

Of course I caught them.

Actually, that was
the only thing I did catch
during Spring training.

But I let them slide.
I let them get away with it.

Why?

Well, the more I watched them,
the more I realized
they were in love.

And when it's the real thing,
you can tell.

I could tell.

I let them slide.
I let them slide.

But what's all this got to
do with extortion, blackmail,
murder and your kid?

I'm not sure.

Except that if you've ever
had the experience of having

loved and lost,

you might be able
to understand the story
I'm about to tell you.

I spent my Spring
of '54 in Kenya,

which is far, far
removed from St. Pete.

There was a war on.

There always seemed to be
a war on, I suppose.

And our squad was
assigned the duty of

guarding the Andrews farm
from the marauding Mau Mau.

We were there three months,
six of us.

I was the youngest,

and quite naturally,

a bond was established between
the only Andrews daughter,

Elizabeth, and myself.

I'm getting the picture.

We would take long walks
in the grass,

read Shelley,

listen to the BBC at night.

Now I'm really
getting the picture.

The war seemed so far away,
so removed.

That is, until
I was transferred
back to the front.

So long, BBC in the dark.

Quite.

Another squad was sent
in to guard the Andrews farm
in our place.

Four months later, I received
a letter from Elizabeth.

The language was polite,

cool, dispassionate.

Yeah.

Apparently, Elizabeth
became involved

with one of the soldiers
sent in to replace me.

Fate is indeed fickle,
Mr. Gillis.

Yeah? Why's that?

Because the man
Elizabeth chose to dispense
her affections to

was none other
than Dan Davies.

The one who owns
the tuna fish boat?

The same.

A wise man named
Branch Rickey once wrote that
luck is the residue of design.

And I would have liked to
think that figuring out
who was embezzling the funds

was something I'd planned
and systematically executed.

However, only I
and the program knew
I got lucky.

Unfortunately,
for Ms. Cathcart, of course,

I hoped she had a good lawyer.

On the other hand,
maybe Mr. Rickey's

"residue of design"
could be equated with

Mr. Magnum's little voice.

And maybe that could be
equated with a little more

up time on Robin's
miracle machine and its mate
down at police records,

because I've seen
Jonathan Quayle Higgins

in just about every possible
kind of circumstance,

but I've never seen him break.

In other words,
maybe the late Warren Brummer
wasn't quite history yet.

What are you doing in there?

Come on. If you're doing
what I think you're doing,

why didn't you phone her?
It would have been easier.

You could've found out
if the little sucker
was yours or not.

You could have found out
if there even was
a little sucker.

They could've faked
the pictures.

You could've. Why?
Why didn't you?

Why didn't you call her?

I forgot.
The alien concept of honor,

all that stuff
I'm supposed to know
nothing about.

Well, maybe it ain't honor
that kept you from making
that phone call.

Maybe it was pride,

something I know
a lot about.

Believe me.

Now, you tell me
what you want to do,
and we'll do it together.

Thank you.

Don't mention it.

Now here's what I think
we ought to do.

I think we ought to get down
to that tuna fish boat,

sneak on,
shake down your pal Davies,

and 86 the goods
he has on you.

Whether they're real or not?

Does it make a difference?

They still work as far as
blackmailing's concerned.

They'll still mess up
your lady friend's career.

Does it really make
a difference whether
they're fake or not?

I suppose not.

Except

if the documents are real,

and if I really do have a son,

wouldn't I be jeopardizing
his very existence
by this rash an act?

What are you planning to do
with that? Target practice?

Shoot fish in a barrel?

But perhaps I'm being hasty,
acting emotionally.

For if I do have a son...

There's only one way
to find out.

But by forcing Davies' hand,

I may not ever see him.

Can you understand
the empty, aching feeling
of having fathered a child

and not ever sharing
in the raising of him?

Or her.

Of course.

I forgot.

I'm sorry.

Sorry is for sissies.
Let's go.

What if there's
another watchman?

I doubt it. I think
they got a high turnover
around here.

Perhaps he's asleep.

Or he's out for
an early morning jog.

Either way, there's
one way to find out.

Now, be careful.
You just can't walk
on these things

like you're taking
a stroll in the park.

You got to roll with the flow,
get your sea legs.

Well, what do you want?

The last time I was in a boat,

my hands were strapped
to the oars

and Blanche was feeding
my lunch to the ducks.

I tried to stop her.
I lifted the oars out...

Well, you had to be there.

Look here.

Well, let's get to work.

Please, I once cracked
the safe of the Nazi
High Command in Rome.

Well, excuse me.

And an intense hour
that was indeed.

For directly in the next room
was General Froelich himself

with one of
Mussolini's mistresses.

The pressure was intense,

and I could barely hear
the clicking of the tumblers
over the constant shrieking...

Come on! Come on!
This is taking too long.
Nonsense.

That the goods?

It says here she gave up
the kid for adoption
on January 1st, 1955.

Happy New Year.
So much for the Spring of '54.
Where's my Bic?

Give it to me!
Come on! Come on!

If it is your kid,
all we're burning
is the picture.

Come on!

We'll call the police,
they'll pick up Davies,

you'll be reunited
with your kid.

Why wait when we can
have one right here?

Son?

Wrong.

Well, the good thing is,
at least you know.

The bad thing is these cruds
are gonna kill us.

That would be stupid
and rather incriminating.

A fire on the other hand...

Yeah, fish sticks.

Lock the door on your way out.

Wait a minute!
Maybe we could talk.

We tried.
We did call the estate.
We could have negotiated.

One final payment.
But you weren't there,
Higgins.

You came to us.

So you left us
no other choice.
Come on, hurry it up.

Wait! There happens to be
a guy behind you with a gun.

Last time I heard that,
it was Bugs Bunny
to Yosemite Sam

and he didn't fall
for it either.
Hi, guys.

Hey, big guy,
put the fire out,
when you're done.

Give me the gun,
and I'll see
they go easy on you.

I lied.

He's all yours, Hig.

You stole more than my money.

You took my honor and pride.

I was counting
on that, Higgins.

Well, count on this.

Do you think
he's in, Magnum?

Well, where else
is he going to be?

He sleeps here. He still
doesn't have a phone.

And you didn't have to
come all the way
down here, Higgins.

I could've paid him.

Or you could've sent him
his check in the mail.

As if paying
a utility bill?

Luther Gillis
did far more than just
help solve the case.

I know that.

It's just that...

What?

Nothing.

What?

What?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for taking
your problem so lightly.

Luther?

Luther?

Bet he's asleep.

"Dear Butler..."

It's for you.

"Dear Butler,

"thanks for letting me
work for you.

"And the big guy, too.

"If he hadn't have figured
out the Davies connection
on the computer,

"we would've been
goners for sure.

"Anyway, this whole case

"kind of made me think about
stuff we were talking about.

"Like Blanche. Like really
having a woman who loves you.

"My kids."

Sorry, I was about
to make myself sick.

The truth of the matter
is I can't stand
the damn weather out here.

It never snows,
and you ain't got
a major league ball club.

I'm going back
to St. Louis.

And Blanche has got
absolutely nothing to do
with it.

Nothing.

Cheers.

Luther H. Gillis, P.I.