All language subtitles for 06.06 Round . Around.eng

That was one of the guys
that killed your dad.

A friend of mine is dead
and his son is missing.

Please find my son, T.C.

I'm working!

Today was his funeral
and you weren't there.

The both of them took off and I
think it was to go after those boys.

That would be a real mistake.

My friend was killed

because you robbed a store.

Basketball is a simple game.

And it really hasn't changed
much since Dr. Naismith

nailed up that peach basket
some 90 years ago.

The object of the game
is still to throw the ball

through the hole more times
than the other guys.

We got them on the run!

But as you get older,

you also find yourself
playing some tough D

against that fast-breaking combo
of mortality and Dr. Time himself.

That's why my occasional
Saturday mornings

of a little three-on-three with T. C.
and our buddy Ron, against these kids

have become a little more
than just recreation.

Recreation's fine,
but winning

has somehow become sweeter.

Chalk another one
up to experience,

teamwork,
and six deadly eyes!

And six dead legs.

Speak for yourself, Thomas.

You boys want to give us old
men one more taste of victory?

You sure about that, Ronnie? I mean,
maybe we ought to call the paramedics

and have them standing by
just in case.

Look here,
we are just getting warm.

Hey, man I thought
you had to get home?

I do. But I got enough for
one more game for the road.

I guess one more game
won't kill anybody.

Man, I don't care if l never play
another basketball game in my life.

At least not for
six or seven years.

How about
watching one instead?

76ers and Lakers.
I got it on cable.

Sheila won't mind?

Mind? Come on, T.C.,
you're family.

And she hasn't
seen you in months.

Hey, that's great.

I promised Higgins I'd help
him catalog Robin Masters'

collection of
detective fiction.

Detective fiction?
How much could he have?

All of it. A personal favor
to Mr. Masters.

Listen, if I hurry maybe I can
get there for the second half.

You're on.
T.C.: Good luck.

With Higgie baby, though, you might
make it by halftime next season.

I'll be there.

Sheila said she'd keep the fire going.
Burgers okay?

How many?

Well, you think Dr. J is gonna
hang it up at the end of this season?

I hope not.

Man, he's an inspiration
to all us...

All you old guys.

You know, I think old age
really starts hitting you

when you realize that all of your
heroes are younger than you are

and even they're
considered old.

Especially if you've
got a 17-year-old son

that almost outjumps you...

And outshoots you!

How's Ronnie Jr. doing,
anyway?

I don't know, man.

He's not talking to me
too much these days.

Maybe you better ask him.

Oh, what is it this time?

I think the psychologists
call it alienation.

Oh...

Hey, that's nothing, huh?

I mean, it's all
part of growing old.

First they need you,
then you need them.

Except right now,
I don't think he needs anybody.

Hey, Sheila asked me
to stop by

and pick up some hamburger
buns on the way back. You mind?

Oh, no. No.

T.C.: And don't
forget my Gatorade.

Man, I'm dying
of thirst here.

You got it. Be right back.

Oh, hey, the orange kind.

Doctor, I just don't
know, except lately when my husband

comes home from work,
he doesn't want to do a thing.

Nothing.

It doesn't matter what kind
of sexy clothes I'm wearing,

or what kind of perfume
I've got on,

or even the Johnny Mathis
records on the stereo.

It just doesn't matter.

All he wants to do is watch
a damn basketball game.

What should I do?

If I was you, I'd leave
the poor sucker alone.

Not only are you getting old
you're getting senile.

This is green.

Oh, that's right.
You wanted orange.

It's all right,
I'll take it back and exchange it.

Hey, look, I'll take it back.
Look, I'm the youngest.

After all, I'm the one
that messed up.

That's okay,
I'll drink it green.

Come on, T.C.,
I'll be right back.

So watch one of
those silly ballgames with him,

Iearn a little bit about them

so you can communicate
in his own language.

But at the same time,
do it totally nude,

side by side.

Then I guarantee you,
by halftime,

he'll be watching you
instead of Larry Bird.

Thank you, doctor.
I hope I don't catch cold.

Yo, Ron!

Ron!

Father, are you all right?

You okay?

Ron.

Ronnie!

They hit my father.

He doesn't speak
very good English

and I think at first he
didn't know what was going on

until they pulled a gun.

He tried to fight them,

that's when
one of them hurt him.

Hit him with the gun?
Yes.

T.C.: Where were you?

I was in the cooler,
stocking the soft drinks.

I heard the commotion,
that's when I ran outside.

And saw what, precisely?

I saw them turn
and shoot this man's friend.

He was in the juice aisle.

He was going to help my
father and they shot him.

We'll be in touch.
Thank you, Andy.

Did you get
a good look at them?

One haole, one local,

one local guy
driving a car.

No license?

Just a brand new
black Continental.

Guess they stole it.

I'm gonna find out.
Put it in the computer right away.

If it turns up, we've got
a good shot at them.

When you find them,
I want to be there.

I'll call you later.

Right now, I've got to see
Mr. Pennington's family.

No, you don't. I do.

It's my duty.

No, it isn't. It's mine.

Forget your key again, Ron?

Or did you just have trouble
remembering where you live?

T.C. I hope you guys like
your hamburgers well done.

Where's Ron?

Where's Ron?

I guess
when I think of funerals,

I think of dark,
drizzly days

and everybody dressed up
in long gray overcoats.

Kind of like
a black and white movie.

I mean, it's real hard to
reconcile death and rainbows.

Especially when you're
at a funeral of a friend

who spent a lifetime
collecting them.

T.C.: He'll show up.

When?

You only bury
your father once.

One day when he's older, he's going
to be real sorry he wasn't here.

Maybe he's real sorry now.

Then where is he, Thomas?

I'll go find him.

Will you take care
of Sheila and Jan?

What if you do
find him, T.C.?

What are you
gonna say to him?

What makes you think it'll
be any different with you

than it was
with his father?

Well, I don't know
whether it will or not.

I'm gonna give it a try.
Tom.

Mrs. Pennington?

Come on, Sheila,
I'll help you get ready.

Thomas, I really don't
feel like seeing anybody now.

Mrs. Pennington?

Excuse me, my name
is Andy Nguyen.

My father's very sorry he
couldn't be here this morning.

The concussion's
very painful.

But he wanted me to
express our family's sorrow

and our gratitude for what
your husband tried to do.

We're truly sorry.

Thank you.

That must have been
real hard for him.

Please find my son, T.C.

Let's just slow down
a little bit, huh?

Hey, slow down
a little bit, huh?

Watch out.
- Hey!

Hey, watch out!

Hey, pull over, huh?
Pull over!

Pull over!

20 bucks.
No, you're kidding me.

You almost got us killed.
20 bucks.

You're lucky we're
not calling the cops.

Come on, honey.

T.C.: Drive.

Forget it, T.C., I don't need
any more grief. Leave me alone.

Just drive.

Leave me alone.
I'm working.

Here.

I'm paying for my time.
Now drive!

You're wasting your time, T.C. Save your
speeches for your Little League Team.

Ain't gonna be no speeches,
but we are going to talk.

About what?

About your mom, man.

Oh, come on, now, T.C.,
that's not fair.

Who's trying to be fair?

You are hurting
your mother, Ronnie.

I guess that just runs
in the family, right?

I mean, same name
and everything, too.

He couldn't even
give me my own name.

He gave you...

He and she gave you that name
because they were proud of you.

They were proud
of that name.

Well, they sure had
a funny way of showing it.

What's that supposed to mean?
What's that supposed to...

Are you serious, T.C.?
Where you been?

I mean, I haven't even...

My mom hasn't had a real good look
at my dad since we settled here.

He's either at that lame
bureaucrat job,

or at the playground
with you.

Shooting baskets with you and the
other guys like a bunch of kids.

Hell, you probably knew him
better than I did.

My dad abandoned his family
a long time ago.

Except he did it
without leaving.

Pretty neat trick, huh?

But it don't matter.

Today was his funeral
and you weren't there.

What are you running from?

I'm working!

Stop! Stop this thing.
Stop it right now.

I think you're running away
because you care!

You're wrong. Wrong!
I'm past that.

Well, I'm not.

Your father was a good man
and he was my friend.

And that lame
bureaucratic job

probably did more for people than any
100 laws or shouters or do-gooders...

Oh, come on, T.C. He worked for
the City Planning Commission.

He wore a dumb tie and
disappeared for 16 hours a day.

Then he spent the rest of his
time with you guys, at the park.

Ron Pennington is the
reason there is a park.

He's also the reason that clubs
and discos that discriminate

get closed down if they
don't get their act together.

And don't think that fighting
for other folk 16 hours a day

don't take its toll.

He probably had to run up and
down that basketball court

just to get it
out of his system.

You know what, Ronnie,

you find it easy to find
fault with your dad,

but you know what's hard for you?
What's hard for you

is seeing that there's a
lot in him to be proud of.

Man, he really dug you
and your mom.

Now, maybe that
wasn't enough for you,

but I think he did
the best he could.

Then why'd he have to
go and die on me?

Die on you?
Die on you?

Man, he lived for you.

In fact he'd still
be living for you

if I had gone into that store
like I started.

So I only want two things.

Number one, I want
your family to have peace,

and number two,
I want to find the people

responsible for
what happened.

Now you can help me
on the first one

if you're not too busy
feeling sorry for yourself.

Now, I'd appreciate it and your mom
would, too, Ronald Pennington Jr.

Death.

Death.

Death.

Ah, here they are.

Death Among Friends,
Death At Lords.

Death Before Bedtime,
Death by Dreaming.

Death At the BBC.

How extraordinary.

Yes, it is, Higgins.

Real extraordinary.

Extraordinary is a superlative,
real extraordinary is a redundancy.

However, I was referring to your rather
unorthodox method of filing books.

By title.

Don't you care about
the Dewey Decimal system?

At this moment,
not particularly.

You know what's real
extraordinary, Higgins,

is how many people
trivialize the word death

in their book titles and their
movie titles just to make a buck.

That will be all
for now, Maile. Thank you.

Magnum, I believe
there's a difference

between trivializing such a profound
event and mere entertainment.

Unfortunately, sometimes,
the line often gets blurred.

Did you find out anything
illuminating at the store?

No. Nothing illuminating.

Unless you count
a lot of flat neon lights

that don't illuminate
a damn thing.

Now that the glass
is cleaned up,

Andy is behind the counter
instead of his dad.

And it's business as usual.

Well, of course it is.
They're poor immigrants.

That store is
their livelihood.

I know that, Higgins.

He's a good kid.

You know something,

they've been robbed over a
dozen times in the last year.

Yet they persevere.

I suppose...

Robin Masters' Estate.
- Higgins?

Yes, one moment, Rick.

Yeah?

Thomas, I think I got
what you're looking for.

Great.

But I had to pull in
every favor that I had.

Plus, the big one.

Ice Pick's daughter, Hilda?

You got it.

How many dates?

It's more than that.

More than... You...

No, he's not...

He's making you...

Look, can we
talk about this later?

Do you want the information on
the black Continental or not?

Sure, go ahead.

Well, I found at least
parts of it

in a chop-shop
over in Waimanalo.

Any registration?

To No-Lemons Rent-A-Car.

Well, that's a dead-end.

Not necessarily.
The car was stolen

from a couple of rich tourists
the other night down in Waikiki.

Great. That is a dead-end.

Not necessarily. Wait till I tell
you where it was stolen from.

Hi, Kika.

Hey, Magnum, T.C.
How's it?

Listen, congratulations
on your promotion.

You don't drive anymore?

Hey, you get old, your legs start to go,
and they kick you upstairs.

I'm management now, brah.

You guys looking for a job?

Oh, no.
Just some information.

Hey, Magnum,
you getting old, too?

Taking on trainees, huh?

What about me?

It's personal, Kika.
We need your help.

What can I do for you?

Uh, a buddy of mine...

Of ours was killed
in a market holdup.

And the guys who did it
stole a black Continental

that was parked right across the
street a couple of nights ago,

by a couple of tourists

who rented some time
on one of your cabs

and we were just wondering if
maybe you saw something, you know.

You know, anybody who was hanging around
who struck you as out of the ordinary?

Everybody down here
is out of the ordinary.

Man, I wish I could help you,
but, you know, so many cabs

and drivers go in and out of this place,
tourists everywhere.

I don't think I could remember unless
they were really weird or something.

Sorry, but l...

Hey!

I need your cab, man!

Ronnie!

What?

T.C., what's going on?

That was one of the guys
that killed your dad.

Like I said, it's your leg
that goes first, huh?

Thanks, Kika.

Hey, um, I'm sorry
it was one of my guys, huh?

You got an address on him?

Yeah, but...

But he's not gonna be
anywhere near there now.

Hey, try the cops.

He got a record?

Yeah, in a way.

You see, all my drivers are
registered with the police.

City rule, you know,
regulate the industry

so the tourists
don't get ripped off.

Maybe you can find out
something down there.

Appreciate it.

Go for it.
I hope you get the slime, huh?

Ronnie knew him.

Yeah. Looked that way.

What do you mean,
looked that way? He knew him!

We'll find him.

And then what?

It's as though everything I said
didn't even get through to him.

Probably the same problem
that Ron had with him.

I want to find the other guy,
Sammy Garns.

Well, let's go see Tanaka,
we'll check him out.

No, no, no, no, no.

You go.

I got something else
I gotta do first.

No, I don't know
where he go.

And I don't know why he go.

Yesterday, I had a family.

Yesterday, I had
a little baby.

Why's it all been
taken from me, T.C.?

Maybe not all. Maybe...

That's that same
misguided optimism Ron had.

It may be bleak, but there's still
some light out there. No matter what.

Where'd anybody be

without some kind of optimism,
misguided or not?

Maybe back in Philly.
That's where.

Maybe back with our family,
our friends.

Home.

You and Ron have
lived here for 10 years.

This still isn't home.

I tried.

But, somehow, things just never
turned out like we planned.

I remember when
Ron was discharged.

It was in the middle
of February,

we were under three feet of
snow back on Vine Street.

And he called me from a phone
booth at Wheeler Air Force Base

telling me we had a new home.

He, Ron Jr. and l.

"Paradise," he said.

We took the next plane.

I worked at
a souvenir stand

in Waikiki while Ron
finished his degree.

Then when I'd come home Ron
would leave for his night job

down at that club in the marina,
mixing drinks.

Yeah.

Ron Jr. didn't know either one of
us very much back in those days.

I guess he doesn't know us

very much better now.

We should have
never come here.

Wrong.

Ron working like that
and you working,

why, it's paid off.
I mean, look at...

Look at his job
with the city?

But what about Ron Jr.

hanging out with bums
doing that rickshaw thing

in Waikiki instead of
going to college?

Tell me, T.C.,

what good is any job
without a life?

Without a family?

You have a family.

Where?

Where?

Where were you?

I'm... I'm sorry.

I had to think.

But I'm back.

I'm back now, Mom.

I guess there could be
a case made for the theory

that not every kid has an
equal shot at making it.

Handicaps like being poor
and not being exposed

to some of the better things in
life can make it tough on kids.

Like the kids from this block.

Sammy Garns' block.

But on the other hand,

what about a kid
like Ron Pennington Jr?

A kid who grew up
with loving parents,

grew up not wondering where
his next meal was coming from,

and above all,
grew up in Paradise?

But then, of course,
so did Sammy Garns.

Yes?

Hi, Mrs. Garns?

What kind
do you think it is?

I don't know.
I want one.

I'm looking for Sammy,
Mrs. Garns.

You from his job?

No.
You police then?

No.
Then why you want him for?

Could we talk inside?

No, mister.
We can talk right here.

Why do you want Sammy?

He's in some trouble.

Sammy's always in trouble.

Look,
a friend of mine is dead

and his son is missing
because of this trouble.

Sammy may know where he is.

Sammy's been gone
for three weeks now.

He shares this room
with his two little brothers.

Maybe it just got
too crowded for him.

Any idea where he'd go?

No, I don't.

Not anymore.

I tried.

I try with all my kids.

Maybe, the two little ones,
they be okay.

Anything else?

No.

Thank you for talking to me.

Mister. Wait.

If you find Sammy,
you do what you have to do.

I understand.

Sometimes being
a private investigator

can be extremely frustrating.

Especially when you do
everything by the book

and still
nothing makes sense.

No black, no white. Just gray.

No happy ending.

And the best you can do

is try and keep the situation
from getting any worse.

Like Sammy's mother.

So, Sammy Garns
was now a dead-end,

joining the black Lincoln,

interviews with the witnesses

and Ron Pennington Jr. himself

as leads that didn't pan out.

Like I said, being a private investigator
can be extremely frustrating.

But never more
frustrating than

when even though you know you've
done everything by the book,

you also know
that the answer

Iies somewhere
between the lines.

The only thing is
you just can't quite see them.

Hi, Higgins.

Anything from Rick or T.C.?

Unfortunately, no.

At least not
in any positive sense.

Rick did call an hour ago

to say the chaps
at the chop-shop

had no idea how to reach
the house boys

who ditched the Continental.

It's homeboys.

Well, at least it looks like
you're making some headway.

Yes, quite.

Although, insignificant as it may
be considering what has occurred,

however, it does provide
some mental relief

in a way, if not
stimulation, actually.

For instance,

this book I'm perusing is Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle's A Study In Scarlet.

As you know,
Holmes was the archetypical

deductive private detective...

Investigator.

...who solved
the seemingly unsolvable plots

by his comprehensive genius

at discerning clues that
apparently did not exist.

His was the consummate
deductive mind.

He also talked funny.

If you're referring to those silly
movies of the '40s that merely...

Oh, come on, Higgins,
I liked those movies.

I thought
Basil Rathbone was great.

I just meant that he kind of talked...
Never mind.

What's your point,
if you have one?

On the other hand,
you have a detective

Iike Chandler's Phillip Marlowe,
who plodded along,

muddled in the most
incomprehensible plots.

Chandler himself admitted
in his later years,

that even he did not
understand The Long Goodbye.

But nevertheless,
due to his acute sense of human nature,

not only the "how" but the
"why" people do what they do,

Marlowe was able to,
in the last chapter,

finally confront the villain,

even though we did not know
exactly how he got there.

The point is he did.

Where are you going?

To test how acute
my sense of human nature is.

I'm not really sure which
kind of private investigator I am.

The Holmesian type with the
consummate deductive mind,

or one with a Marlowe-type
intuitive sense

of the darker side
of human nature.

Hopefully,
a combination of both.

At any rate,
it doesn't matter.

Not when you have
a little voice.

I don't know,
maybe a gently nagging little voice

is really just another way of adding
what you know to what you feel.

But right now,
mine wasn't gently nagging,

it was screaming.

Hello, Andy.

Mr. Nguyen.

Hello.

Hello, Magnum.

You've come to
visit your friend?

No, actually, I came here
to see you.

They told me down at the store
I'd find you here.

Me?
Why do you want to see me?

Oh, I think you know why.

It was an accident,
wasn't it?

Why didn't you
tell anybody?

Because it was me.

I shot your friend.

They're surfers.

Most of the drivers are.

You ever try that?

Once. Being inside a washing
machine is not my idea of sport.

Anyway, Sammy goes up to Sunset on
the weekends when he's not working

'cause Stu and Lee
have a shack up there.

They surf, they get blitzed.

You try that, too?

Come on, T.C.

Oh, yeah, I forgot.

You're a man now.

Don't ask you anything about
something you want to hide.

I did that once or twice
with them, too.

And, no,
I don't do it anymore.

I mean they
kind of graduated.

To what?

Dust.

Anyway, I gotta tell you, T.C.,
I don't know.

I find it real hard to believe
it was them. I mean, real hard.

Why?

I mean, from what you said
they sound

exactly like the two guys that
I saw running from the store.

At least,
I intend to find out.

And then what?

I didn't know where else to turn,
Mr. Higgins. I'm sorry.

Oh, please, don't be,
Mrs. Pennington.

I'm very glad you came here.

I'm sure Magnum is doing everything
he can to help right now as will l,

even if it's only offering
a meager cup of tea.

Thank you.

It's just that Ron and T.C. took
off and haven't come back yet.

And here was the only other place
I could think of to look for them.

I've been looking
for T.C., too, and you.

He's with Ron Jr.

Yeah, I guess
T.C. did reach him.

But then the both of them took off and
I think it was to go after those boys.

That would be a real mistake.

Of course it would.

As much as we may sympathize with
their motives, vigilantism is...

Absolutely irrelevant.

I beg your pardon?

Those three kids
didn't kill Ron.

The store owner did.
The boy's father.

How do you know that?

I've just been wondering
why this old man

who'd been robbed so many
times would try to fight off

three armed robbers
with his bare hands.

I mean, it didn't figure. Why wouldn't he
keep the gun in the cash register drawer?

And then they were so
solicitous after the incident.

What you are saying, Magnum,
is that Mr. Pennington

was the unfortunate victim
of circumstance.

Why then did they not go to
the police and tell them this?

Maybe they're not familiar with delicate
legal phrases like accidental shooting.

The boy was probably afraid they'd
send his father back to Vietnam.

So he just threw the gun away
and blamed it on the robbers.

So then Ron and T.C.
are going after innocent boys.

Not entirely innocent.
They're still armed robbers.

The question is,
what can we do to stop them?

Do you have any idea
where they're heading?

No.

The police?
No.

That would be worse
for Ron and T.C.

Well, who are you calling?

Come on, Magnum,
give me a break, brah.

I got a major disaster
on my hands here.

A what? What?

I'll tell you what. In addition
to Ron Pennington not showing up,

and that sleaze ball
Sammy Garns,

I got two more drivers
stiffing me. Flu.

Yeah, yeah,
I'll tell you where.

And when you're
through with them,

maybe you can come down
and pedal a cab for me, huh?

That's it.

Stu and Lee crash here.
Sammy comes by sometimes.

Okay.

Okay, I want you to wait here.
I'll be right back.

Wait a second.
Uh-uh. You wait a second.

I want to go check
this place out first.

Look, T.C., these guys are,
like, totally dusted.

You know, like, space,
the final frontier? Maybe l...

Hold it, hold it,
hold it right there.

Now, I know exactly
what you're going to say.

But I am not gonna
blindly walk in there.

I mean, there're no cars
parked around here,

that probably means
that there's nobody inside.

Now, I just want to simply sneak
up there, check the place out,

and after we're certain
that they've been there,

then I'm gonna send you to call
the cops and I'll wait for them.

Okay?

That's not what l
was going to say.

What were you going to say?

Well, um,

all the way up here I
thought you were gonna go off

half-crazy because of
some weird sense of guilt.

I mean, because you didn't go in the
store and get the Gatorade yourself.

But then I was thinking about
how that would be the most

absolutely stupid thing
you could do.

After knowing you and
especially after talking to you

and hearing you talk to Mom
over the last couple of days,

I know you wouldn't do
anything emotionally that dumb.

So, um, what I was
gonna say was

good luck.

I'll be right back.

T.C.: Sammy sent me.

You looking to
score some dust, man?

Yeah, yeah,
I want some dust.

Powder or sticks?

Powder.

How much?

Uh...

Couple of ounces.

You're a narc.
You're a freaking narc.

No, no, no. Calm down, man.
I'm not a narc.

I just want...
I am not a narc!

Hey, I am here because
you and your buddy

robbed a grocery store
last Saturday

and you killed my friend and
you are going to the police.

Hey, man.

Now, go wake
that punk up.

Hey, look, we didn't kill him.
Now, come on, I'll wake him up!

Hey, look,
that old dude shot him.

He just picked up
the gun and whaled out.

Too hyper,
you know what I mean?

Look, let's talk this over
or something.

You get high?

Hey, man,
my friend was killed

because you robbed a store.

In the eyes of the law and
God you are as guilty as hell

and you are going!

Hey, cool out, man.

Let them go.

And then what?

Then we hop into these wheels
and we drop Ronnie off someplace.

Hey, no worry.
He gonna be okay.

Besides, I told him,

we ain't murderers.

Let them go.

And, brah, don't even think
about following us.

No problem.

Hey, Ronnie, when they drop you off,
you call Magnum.

He'll pick you up.

Hi, guys.

Nice game, guys, thanks.

Yeah, thanks, guys.

Go easy on us next time, huh?
- Hey, Bert.

Yo, thanks, Bert.
Hey, see you guys next week.

T.C.: Bert,
good luck at the club tonight.