Original subtitles

Son of a gun.

There's old Steve Marley.

I thought he was dead.

I mean, I thought he drank himself to death a long time ago.

Let's go over and say hello. No, wait a minute.

I'd rather not.

Let's find a bar downstairs.

Steve makes me a little uncomfortable.

How about you?

You know what?

Okay. Okay.

What? Too much noise.

This place is too stuffy.

This scotch, it just don't make it.

I got something a lot better. It's real quality.

Get out all this noise.

Take me.

Huh?

Beautiful, beautiful.

That good stuff?

Come on.

Come on.

Let's go over there.

Now look at it.

And that was the last thing Ruth saw.

Excuse me? Excuse me?

How you doing, baby?

His name's Stephen Marley.

This was pinned to his jacket.

Name tag? National Society of Industrial Engineers and Designers. They're having

their convention in the hotel. He was in the bar last night, lapping it up.

We're checking now to see if he had a good friend, maybe abroad.

Then there's this.

One of the few things in his wallet.

Congratulations from the National Society for the Grand Prize in Design.

Awards for the year 1970.

Important guy, huh?

Yeah. Just like Icarus.

Marley can't drink that of everybody.

There was one guy he could have left with. Short hair, young looking,

But nobody remembers him good. The bar was loaded and so were all the

The usual not so hot time in the old town tonight.

What time did he go off?

According to the medical examiner, the time of the subject's death was between

and 2 a .m. in the morning.

Constant use of alcohol is indicated by hyperemia.

and irritative elements in the digestive tract, mucosa.

You're kidding.

Blood sugar concentration at the time of decease was 35%. 35%. Where's the

decimal, boy?

It's right here, front of the three.

Yeah, front of the three.

You can tell them what the difference between 35 % is and .35, man. Forget

it. What do you got?

Last known address is West 60th Street.

How's that for a yellow sheet?

Drunk and disorderly, drunk and disorderly, drunk and disorderly.

Dress for St. B &O, B &O. How many, maybe 40?

37. First one started about almost three years ago, skipped a month, and then

the guy never stopped. He was trying to drown himself.

Intent to design it to bum in less than a year. How do you figure that?

Give me that address.

And would you explain to him the difference about the decimal point?

So I'm officially a widow.

Well, what do you know?

The boo's finally drowned, poor Stephen.

No, not exactly.

He went off a roof.

Oh, my God.

What was the last time you saw him?

Oh, let me see.

Six months ago, maybe five, something like that.

I found him drunk in the hallway.

So I gave him a bath, a kiss on the cheek and a ten dollar bill and sent him

his way.

I mean, have you spoken to him in the interim?

About a week ago.

He called to tell me they were going to one of those conventions they have.

Something he hadn't done in two years. Make contacts.

Pull himself together again.

What was it that pulled them apart to begin with?

I have no idea.

Suddenly he couldn't sleep, so he drank to knock himself out.

I caught him.

Arguments, no explanations.

We screamed at each other. He left. He came back.

He drank, and finally I had it.

I threw him out.

Why would anybody want to kill him?

Did someone do that?

Maybe.

Look, I'm going to need some names.

Some people in his past.

I'm not going to be much help to you, Lieutenant.

If men friends from Skid Row are managed to avoid, the old ones from before

would be at the convention.

As for his lady friend, however, I guess I'm bitter enough to drop her name.

Linda Miller.

Over?

Is it all over?

Paul?

No, Shelby, it's not.

Not yet.

Soon?

He was, uh, mental, you know? He brought books, like, uh, The Prophet, you know?

And, um... This is my beloved.

Oh.

So Linda with karma loves Stephen. That's nice.

Oh, we discussed.

And when he wasn't drunk, we talked about things.

Oh, like, uh, current events, the stage.

I really learned a lot from Stephen.

It was kind of his contribution, you know?

Oh, yeah.

I used to just like to hold him.

And I'll tell you something.

Do you want me to tell you something, Lieutenant?

Please tell me something, Miss Miller.

That's all Stephen wanted me to do.

Just hold him.

Until he got crazy.

Well, let's see. A man reads, this is my beloved.

He likes to be held. That's nice.

Gets himself arrested 37 times.

Sounds like a man in conflict, Miss Miller.

Tell me.

Here, juice.

One night he hit me.

One time and then out the door. Boy, I never let him back in here again, you

know?

Well, how long did you know him?

I met Stephen two years ago. Maybe not quite.

And he was around, I guess, six months.

How'd you meet him?

Louis, I think.

Louis who?

Louis O 'Reilly.

I've got his card here somewhere.

Let me see.

Lewis O 'Reilly.

Well, I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.

Lewis O 'Reilly, industrial designer.

that display models wear bikinis, evening gowns, or elastic bottom

The rate is $10 an hour. Tell her that. She quits, she quits.

Okay?

Help you.

I'm Lieutenant Kojak.

I'm looking to locate one of your convention guests.

Sure. What's his name?

His name is Louis O 'Reilly.

You don't want to locate Mr. O 'Reilly, surely. You're investigating his death.

Oh, am I?

Two suicides in just a few days at the same hotel?

I've been marveling the papers haven't made something ghastly out of it.

Indulge me, miss.

I mean, people have accidents all the time. People die all the time. And you

know something?

I never get to hear about them.

Late yesterday, Mr.

O 'Reilly was found on the pavement beneath his room. He committed suicide.

Out of his window, lieutenant, from the 12th floor.

Lieutenant, yeah, but Mr. O 'Reilly here claims he has an appointment with you.

Lieutenant Kocak, Mr. O 'Reilly. Thank you.

Get out of here.

What happened to my brother?

Well, Mr. O 'Reilly, our records list him as a probable suicide.

Oh, the hell with that.

There's no way I'm going to believe that.

Oh, why not?

Lewis was a man eager to live.

He had recently met a lovely woman, and they were planning to be married in a

month in Tucson.

That's where I just flew in from.

Is that where she is now, Tucson?

Yes.

He pushed my brother out of that window.

Mr. O 'Reilly, how well did your brother know a Stephen Marley?

Stephen?

Fairly well. Why?

And has he been in touch with him lately?

Not lately. I don't think so.

When was the last time?

After that last convention at the St. Teresa, Lewis didn't mention Stephen

much.

Mr. O 'Reilly, Stephen Marley is dead.

Dead?

Early this morning, I'm sorry.

Oh, what an awful thing.

What a terrible, awful coincidence.

Hmm.

Myron Joyce, operator.

Are you sure you rang his room?

Okay.

Did he leave word when he'd be in?

No, there's no message.

Now, the guy I talked to says he can't remember anything unusual happening.

Wrong.

You mean two years ago at the St. Teresa Hotel?

Yeah. A jumper. In the unusual occurrence reports of that week, a

St. Teresa Hotel on the night of September the 17th. Right there where it

defenestration.

That means out the window.

Nice talking to you.

Enough already, okay?

Oh, you want a downer or something?

No.

Make you feel mellow?

No, no drugs, Shelby.

That's not my thing.

I gotta keep a cool head anyhow.

Maybe.

You're quite a guy, you know.

I respect you. You got dedication.

You're a strong human being.

I gotta tell you the truth, Shelby.

I'm scared.

I was scared of Nam, too.

Not about dying.

About killing.

That scared me.

Hey, you got medals. You are a terrific soldier.

Somehow you get the hang of it.

You have to.

I don't know.

I think my sister Ruth was a very lucky girl.

She never should have been killed, Paul.

It wasn't fair.

They had her all to themselves and she was just a child. Stop it, Shelby.

Well, you're making them pay.

How much time do you have?

I've got to be finished today.

By tonight.

Is there enough time?

Paul, I'm talking to you.

On September 20th, two years ago, a female Caucasian, age 22, fell or jumped

from approximately the 16th story to St. Teresa's Hotel during the time that

some designers were having their convention. How do you like those

Fell, jumped, pushed, what? Closed out, fell or jumped, but it's all there. You

read it.

You know, it's hard to tell. It's St. Teresa's Hotel. It's an old one,

A fire escape on the outside. She was found beneath it. I thought you wanted

to read it. And during the time that all these conventioneers were getting ready

to go home with their bloody merry breakfast, not one of these good people

heard of the young lady. You ready?

This is crazy.

Some madman starts pushing people out of windows two years ago, gets back on the

job again this year.

What's he got against designers? Oh, no, no, no. She's no designer.

Just a simple, young, little housewife waiting to join her soldier husband over

his knees.

Ruth Nelson, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, height, weight, next of kin,

husband, Paul, United States Army.

Yeah, he got compassionate leave from his post in Germany. Returned there

after the funeral.

We got worldwide locators on it now, getting a scam on him.

Maybe he can shed some light on her death. Maybe she was a suicide.

Well, there's a surviving older sister, Shelby Phillips, local address.

Maybe she was being shopped around like Molly's mistress. What's her name, Linda

Miller? Hey, Frank, it's possible.

Husband far, far away overseas, huh?

Whose room? Was she in O 'Reilly's room? What room? Like that.

It's gonna be pretty tough to find out.

St. Teresa's now a parking lot. You gotta be kidding. This whole country is

information bank. Nobody throws away records anymore. And besides that?

We got a room full of bright ones out there. What's Ruth Nelson's sister's

Shelby Phillips, 668 Tremaine Avenue, Brooklyn.

Yeah.

Yeah? Hello, I'm Lieutenant Kojak, Manhattan South.

I'm looking for Shelby Phillips.

Oh.

IMC. Oh.

Well, can I talk to you for a couple of minutes, Miss Phillips?

Please.

Come in.

Mm -hmm.

Thank you.

It's about your sister, Ruth. She fell to her death two years ago.

Committed suicide, yeah.

Well, there have been recent deaths under similar circumstances, and I kind

find it hard to accept.

Maybe it was an accident. I mean, something other than suicide.

How could I know, Lieutenant? How could even I be sure? I mean, I was

out someplace hooting around, and I came home, and they told me

about my sister.

Do you want something cold?

Cold drink.

Oh, no, no. No, thanks.

In Switzerland?

What? In the Alps, skiing, a ski resort, something like that?

Me? No.

That thing.

Well, I rent furnished, and it just came with

things.

How about your brother -in -law?

My brother -in -law?

Paul. Your sister's husband?

When did you see him last?

Uh, at Ruth's funeral. The army sent him home with some kind of leave they give.

They flew him home all the way from Germany.

I know. I really do know. You see, that's where that comes from. From Paul.

He visited there when he was stationed in Germany. Paul sent it.

Still a G .I.? We don't keep in touch. since the tragedy of my sister's death.

What do you do, Miss Phillips?

Me?

For a living.

I'm on call.

I substitute for secretaries who get sick.

And I listen to music and wait for the phone to ring.

Listen.

isn't the only record I have.

But, you know, sometimes you get, you know, really stuck on something and you

don't hear enough of it, right?

What do you want?

Nothing.

Nothing.

It's all right, baby.

They killed Ruth, and what you're doing is right.

I know.

Well, anyway, what worried me about her was that little...

Yellow pillow. She said it came with the house.

And then she remembered that her brother -in -law gave it to her.

Why don't you taste it first?

Hey, that's good. It's a good coffee.

You gotta be kidding.

Well, anyway, she was smart enough to cover up.

She figured that I knew that Garmisch was R &R for German -based troops. She's

smart cookie to show.

But I spotted her for a user from the word go.

You got a yellow sheet?

Two arrested for possession and one parole for a cure at Lexington.

Worldwide locators on Paul Nelson.

He's alive and well and a master sergeant and assigned to the 12th

Group stationed in Fort Benning, Georgia.

He's an instructor with the Rangers, just got back from overseas.

Yeah, how long ago?

Two weeks. He was stationed over there for three and a half years in Germany.

Right now he's on a 10 -day furlough.

Where to?

They said he took a jeep and went to climb rocks up in the Georgia mountains.

He's due back on post tomorrow morning.

So nobody knows where he is? No.

Well, I want to know.

Get a description of him. Get it out on the street.

Especially around that hotel.

I'm already working on that. And the army's sending it on the wire, too.

included.

Well, I want to take a peek at him on the inside.

A complete psychological profile. A 24 -hour surveillance on his sister -in

-law, Shelby Phillips.

Just in case he decides to deliver another little yellow pillow.

Oh, are you comfortable?

Who made the coffee this morning?

I don't know.

Must have been Saperstein.

It's pretty good.

Saperstein? Later for Saperstein, I was a little musty, but I made the coffee. I

followed the directions on account to the letter.

Oh, with your own razzle -dazzle?

What do you mean you were musty?

Well, going through all those cartons in the cellar.

They gave me a brownie to help, but she wore a smock.

Who gave you a brownie? The holding company that owns the St. Teresa Hotel.

They were very cooperative. They gave me a brownie.

They pointed me to the cellar and said, go.

Was it worth it?

Oh, yes.

Lewis O 'Reilly, registration card, two years old.

Lewis O 'Reilly, address, phone.

Checked in September 20th, 1972, room 1506, single.

Daily rate, $35, I'm going blind.

Bill of charges to Donald Calder, 670 Central Park West.

Write that down for me.

670... Donald Calder. Turn the card over, Lieutenant.

Due to lack of facilities, room shared by Myron Joyce, Chicago, Illinois, no

charge.

Are you looking for the list of persons at the convention?

Yeah.

I already checked Myron Joyce's name against it.

And? He's registered at the Aurora.

But he's not there.

He went out with some group to check out some factory.

They said he'd be back later this afternoon.

Oh, you're finished. Fantastic.

You know, I think I'm your biggest fan.

You can't reach me here.

I'll be with Donald Calder.

I want to talk to this man in choice.

Okay, Lieutenant.

O 'Reilly was a

dear friend of yours, you said?

Hmm.

I didn't see enough of him only when he got to New York or business took me to

his part of the country.

His death was a shocker.

But the reason I'm here, Mr. Calder, is the fact that two years ago you picked

up this tab at the St. Teresa.

At the convention, yes.

Curious you should even mention that.

You see, I admired his talent and his conversation, and it was my pleasure to

pay his way.

Are you in the same business?

I manufacture toys and games, and Lewis did some work for me.

Well, at that convention, did you see Lewis then?

Oh, yes. I picked him up at the plane and we had a couple of lunches.

That's about it.

On the night of September 20th, did you see him then?

I'm sure I didn't. I never go out nights.

I bring whatever foolishness I need right into here.

Do you know a Stephen Marley?

Marley? I think we met. He's a friend of Lewis's. Why do you ask?

He died yesterday morning. He was pushed off a roof.

Oh, that's pretty scary, isn't it?

Why is that?

Two men, friends, to die the same way so close in time.

One final question, Mr. Cawdor.

Did you know a Ruth Nelson?

No, I don't know the name.

I'll let you get back to your guess.

If I can be of any help at any time, please don't hesitate. I'm mostly right

here. I'm going to remember that.

The description of Paul Nelson just came over the wire, and the photo also.

Uh, they're already on the street.

What about the psychological profile?

Yeah, they sent that, too.

He has a pretty high IQ.

He's quiet, a good soldier, a hell of a mountain climber.

Pretty much a balona, like that.

I see.

Nothing kinky?

No, not on paper.

Look, I'll be back around three.

If Myron Joyce calls, tell him I'm on my way to the hotel.

You remember me, don't you? Are you kidding?

You're in half of my nightmares.

I'd stay away from high places if I were you, Myron.

Lewis is dead. So is Steve Marley.

You think I don't know that?

You think I'm not going crazy trying to figure out if this was because of what

happened at the St. Teresa Hotel?

Listen, I think I'd better just go to the police.

I wouldn't do that.

Look, I'm frightened.

What do you think I should do?

Get out of town.

I can't do that. Not till tomorrow.

I've got too many commitments.

Then protect yourself. Be careful.

Well, is that what you're going to do?

Something like that.

Pardon me. You got a match?

Oh, sorry. I don't smoke.

How you been, Mr. Quimley?

You miss Seattle?

No, not at all.

Yeah? John Quindemeyer. From Seattle.

Hey,

what is it?

Who are you?

Paul Nelson.

Ruth. Yes, Ruth.

I was married to Ruth.

I did nothing.

I was there, but I did nothing.

Now listen to me. Just listen to me.

Just listen to me.

I can tell you what happened.

I can tell you just what happened. I know what happened.

Ruth died.

My God, it's Myron.

Myron Joyce.

Oh, my God.

What's happening at this convention?

What

about

Paul, Nelson?

Well, the pictures are all out. Everybody's looking for him.

He's got to be our man, Frank.

So far, nothing, nada. But he's an army ranger. He's lethal. His profession is

to kill. Since he's due back at his outfit in the morning, we'll have him

returned for questioning.

If he shows.

I suppose his job here isn't done. How do we figure this guy out?

Two years ago, he was away in the army in Europe, okay?

Now we have this convention at St. Teresa's.

Maybe Ruth was hired to display toasters. Who knows?

But anyway, she finds herself up on the 16th floor.

mixed up with a bunch of guys who got to go back to the office with a story for

the boys, right? The booze, the broth, and who nailed to it. All right, so Ruth

is in one of those rooms, more than one guy with her, maybe three.

There's O 'Reilly, Steve and Molly, and maybe this last guy, Myron Joyce.

Now, something happened.

She ran down the hall, and the next thing we know, she takes a 15 -story

Yeah, who knows what they were doing to her.

Maybe she was coming to us.

Falcom's home on compassionate leave, attends her funeral, and gets back to

Germany? And two years later, our same buddy boys are having a convention.

So he figures whatever they did to my wife, I'm going to do to them.

Yeah, but if we marked it a probable suicide and closed the case out, how did

find out different and how did he know who was in that room?

Oh, Frank, I just ran out of theories.

Excuse me, Captain.

Yeah. Lieutenant Crocker and Saperstein just checked in, in case you want to

know. Oh, well, I'm always interested in the day and the lives of Crocker and

Saperstein, Stubbers.

Well, they were doing a tale on Shelby Phillips.

She was cruising, so they were cruising.

Cruising what?

Seventh Avenue.

Seems like she's got a frailty.

She checked in at the Admiralty Hotel, you know, that fleabag on 37th?

With a customer.

Still in there, Lieutenant.

Maybe she'll score enough for a fix.

Hey, there's the John.

Saperstein, you tail him.

He could be a messenger from Paul Nelson.

I got it.

Careful now.

Hey, Lieutenant, she's flagging a cab.

Let's see where she's gone.

She's heading uptown.

747 to Central, over.

Central to 747, go ahead.

Paul Nelson, subject under surveillance, seen entering 668, remain.

Request backup immediately.

747, out.

10 -4, 747.

Central, all units in the vicinity of 668, remain.

Get at 747, requesting backup.

Hey, Lieutenant.

Yeah, looks like she made a score.

It's the fuzz, baby. Open up.

What the hell do you want?

No time to flush the juice down the tubes, baby.

Look, so you're saying get out, huh?

It might take a little time. It all depends on you, Shelby.

Why don't you come back?

Why don't you be really beautiful and come back? I have ten minutes.

What happened at the St. Teresa Hotel?

Two years ago at the St. Teresa Hotel, what happened?

Oh.

Look,

I can't talk to you now. I really can't.

Were you there, Shelby?

Which I had to be.

Otherwise, how would Paul know exactly what happened? You know something, kid?

You're the missing link.

I'm going to die, you know that.

Talk to me.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

All right, what else?

What else?

Wait.

Look,

whatever you want. I mean, whatever you really want. Just come back.

They tried to rape your sister, is that it? And then she ran.

They chased her and then she ran and then she fell.

products like that?

What else?

I went up to the room with the man.

O 'Reilly's room?

Only there were others there.

And finally, just me.

Uppers and downers and amos and whatever.

And she walked in.

hit me but it was okay she kept on hitting me and

hitting me and hitting me and screaming and the

men who were in the fire escape trying

to stop her

Stay with us, Epstein.

Is Calder in?

Yes, sir. You call him. Tell him Lieutenant Kojak wants to talk to him.

Yes. Mr. Calder, this is security.

There's a Lieutenant Kojak wants to see you.

Tell him to come right up.

All right, Lieutenant.

Anybody with him?

Yes, sir. I guess we'll come in with him. What did he look like?

Very tall.

Big man, kind of blonde.

Not Paul Nelson.

You should know.

You killed my wife.

No, no. I'll shoot you out on the roof.

I won't do that.

You're going to die.

Maybe not the same way, but you're going to die.

Hold it, Nelson.

You won't kill him.

He'll buy his way out.

Do you know what he did?

He's the last one.

I have a right.

He's a murderer.

We'll take care of that, Paul.

Shelby.

Ruth's sister.

She saw it happen.

She can tell you.

You can trust her.

Ever had that empty feeling in your stomach? That's nothing compared to what

Meryl Streep goes through when Goldie Hawn takes a shot at her in deliciously

dark movie comedy Death Becomes Her, tonight at 9 on ITV3. Next, though, back

-to -back episodes of Surgical Spirit.