Original subtitles

Mr. Hewitt?

Sorry to drag you up here, Mr. Mannix. We have to talk privately.

About what?

This man.

He's been writing my wife crazy letters for over a year.

You know the kind... if he can't have her, nobody else will.

Last week she went to Chicago to visit her mother.

He jumped into her taxicab at O'Hare Airport.

Amanda screamed her head off,

he jumped out of the cab and lost himself in the crowd.

Now he's followed her to Los Angeles.

How do you know that?

I saw him watching our house.

I took that picture just before he took off.

But I... I called the police.

But they can't do anything until he makes a move.

Hm.

Then it could be too late.

My wife could be dead.

♪♪

First I thought he'd gone up with the car.

But he was thrown clear.

He was dead when I got down to him.

How'd you get into the act, Joe?

Hewitt made a date to hire me.

He thought somebody was trying to kill his wife.

He must have had his victims mixed up.

You don't think it was an accident?

Do you, Mitch?

Two cars speeding on a mountain road. One didn't make the turn.

There's nothing to indicate the guy in the black job bumped Hewitt.

Mrs. Hewitt, you'll have to sign this.

I'll take care of that, Laurie. Thank you.

Now, if you'll just sign this, Mrs. Hewitt,

we'll have a car come around and take you home.

What is it?

It's just a release for your husband's personal effects here in his briefcase.

Why don't you sit down, Mrs. Hewitt?

Can I get you some water?

Mr. Mannix?

Lieutenant Webster said you were there when it happened.

Yes, uh, I'm a private investigator. Your husband called me.

Why?

About the threatening letters you've been getting.

Uh, he gave me this just before the accident.

Who is he?

Well, isn't this the man that jumped into your taxi at the Chicago Airport?

Chicago? I've never been to Chicago in my life.

Mrs. Hewitt, where does your mother live?

My mother's been dead for six years.

I'll see about that car now.

Oh, uh, Mitch, I'm parked right out in front.

I'll drive Mrs. Hewitt home.

Okay, fine, Joe.

I simply can't understand about that picture.

Why would George have made up a story about a man I've never seen.

Mrs. Hewitt, do you know if your husband had any enemies?

I don't think so, but I'd probably be the last to know.

I'm afraid I didn't know George very well.

We were married less than a month.

Where, uh, where did you meet your husband, Mrs. Hewitt?

New York.

Just after I came back from Peru.

I spent two years there in a mountain village

with the Peace Corps.

I was trying to decide what to do next,

and suddenly there I was married to George.

I guess that's what I decided to do next.

That's strange.

What's that?

I left all the outside lights on.

Not just the coach lights.

But it was daylight when they called you down to the police station.

I remember thinking it would be lonely when I got back, and dark.

Well, you better let me go in first.

Mrs. Hewitt.

Did you leave that door open?

No. I'm sure I locked it.

Doesn't look as though anything was touched.

I wonder what he could have been after.

Maybe something your husband had on him.

Do you mind if I...

No.

House key... car key...

What's that key to?

The desk drawer. Over there.

What does he keep in it?

I don't know. It was always locked.

This lock has been jimmied.

Hey, you, what are you doing in that window?

Get away from it!

What happened?

Uh... I saw a prowler looking in that window right there.

Shouted at him what he thought he was up to... he hit me.

Lucky thing you showed up.

George home?

Who are you?

Albert Tucker. I was about to ask you the same question.

My name is Mannix. I'm a private investigator.

This is Mrs. Hewitt.

Mrs. Hewitt? George didn't say anything about bein' married.

When was the last time you saw him?

About a month ago.

In my office in Washington.

Legal matter.

Where is George?

He's dead.

How did it happen?

Car crash.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Hewitt. I won't bother you at a time like this.

Oh, I... the only thing is I don't know what I'm going to do with this now.

They're just check stubs.

Yeah.

With only the amounts filled in.

There are no names.

Do you have any idea who these might have been payable to?

I've never seen them before.

The envelope was sealed when George gave it to me.

That was a month ago in Washington.

What are you doing here now, Mr. Tucker?

Well, George knew I was coming out to Los Angeles on business,

so he asked me to bring the envelope with me.

He called me this afternoon at the Hamilton,

asked me to come over this evening at 8:30.

What time did he call you?

About 6.

You're sure about that time, Mr. Tucker?

Yes, I found a note in my box when I got back from dinner.

I came out right away.

Mr. Hewitt couldn't have called you at 6:00.

Why not?

Because he was killed at 4:30.

There, you can see for yourself. It says 6:05 P.M.

Mr. Tucker, you were Mr. Hewitt's attorney?

- Yes. - What business was he in?

Well, now I don't think anyone knew, really.

He seemed to want it that way.

He enjoyed playing the man of mystery.

Why, why is that important now?

Mr. Mannix thinks my husband's death wasn't accidental.

It's also very possible that we saved your life.

How?

Well, whoever it was that called you at 6:05

must have wanted that envelope pretty badly.

If we hadn't arrived here before you, you would have walked right into his trap.

Yeah.

Got it.

That was '69?

There's coffee and sandwiches over there.

Uh-huh.

And that's all for '68.

Rough subject you picked.

I've spent the whole evening trying to get a rundown on the late George Hewitt.

Oh, photostats of his tax returns are on your desk.

I couldn't find any that go back more than two years.

Oh, and I called New York.

They were married, April the seventh.

Civil ceremony. So that much is legitimate.

Hmm.

What, do I detect a yawn?

I'm so glad you noticed.

Oh, why don't you go home, huh? Oh, and say hello to Toby.

Will do. Good night, Joe.

Good night.

I've seen you take some wacky cases, Joe, but this is got to be the best yet.

Why?

Did you get a good look at this guy?

Well, it was pretty dark.

But, uh, I did get a pretty good look at his fist when he slugged me.

He's got all five knuckles.

Did you uh, get the prints off the gun?

Yeah, we got 'em all right.

They belong to a man named Alan Guthrie.

I guess it's just as well you didn't see his face.

Why is that?

Alan Guthrie's been dead for two years.

Guthrie?

Alan Guthrie.

Name mean anything to you?

Well, he was 38.

Ex-Air Force.

He was flying for Monarch Air Freight

and he was killed in a cargo plane crash in 1968.

1968.

I was in Peru when he was killed.

Well, there was a miracle.

He's come back to life.

Do you think he had something to do with George's death?

It's possible.

Don't most private detectives usually work for money?

Well, we'll worry about the fee later.

Hey, what's that?

My version of huevos rancheros.

- Hmm. - My principal diet when I was in Peru.

Well, eat it while it's hot.

Watch it. It's also spicy hot.

Excuse me.

Hello.

Yes he is, just a moment, please.

- It's your secretary. - Hmm.

Yeah, Peggy.

What are you eating?

Huevos rancheros.

Huevos rancheros? And I can't even get you to try soul food.

Anything on Monarch Air Freight?

All they'd admit to was that a Monarch cargo plane

did go down in Death Valley, March, '68.

The co-pilot was killed and the pilot, Alan Guthrie, was, quote, lost.

Well, we found him.

Dig up everything you can on his Air Force record.

I'll get on to it right away. Goodbye, Joe.

Tell me, did, uh, did George ever talk to you

about his friends, hobbies, that sort of thing?

The only thing he ever went on about...

It's not that important.

Well, tell me anyway.

Well, he loved horse racing.

We flew down to Hialeah a couple of times.

Was he a heavy bettor?

Well, if he was, he never told me.

The account was opened on April, the eighteenth,

with a cash deposit of twenty-four thousand dollars.

October ninth, twenty-five thousand dollars.

There's nothing until March, 1970.

Thirty-one thousand.

Then on the fourteenth, that's two weeks ago,

seventeen thousand dollars.

All in cash.

- That's all you have? - That's all there is, Mr. Mannix.

Our records are complete.

That's almost a hundred thousand dollars.

I never saw him before. Who is he?

George Hewitt. Do anything to you?

Sorry, nothing.

Hewitt likes the races.

I'm trying to track down some big money he's been getting regularly.

Work down a little lower, honey. I'm trying to talk to my friend.

Sorry, Joe, he's not a bookie. I'm pretty sure of that.

And he doesn't bet at the local tracks.

Yeah, suppose, uh, he placed bets with some other bookie?

- Big money? - Twenty, thirty thousand at a crack.

No way.

A regular big money winner, no matter who handled it, or where, I'd know.

Can I buy you a rub, Joe?

She really takes the kinks out.

I'll keep it in mind.

Hold it very still, Mr. Mannix.

Over here.

Hands on top, feet apart.

Mannix.

Don't be foolish.

I was expecting Alan Guthrie.

Who are you?

- I heard Guthrie was dead. - You heard wrong.

What did Hewitt say to you before he went off the mountain?

I presume you were the man in the black car chasing him, huh?

Say, uh, haven't we met before in this office?

- What did he say? - Nothing interesting.

Well, try anyway.

It'd save time if you tell me what you're looking for.

Stay where you are. Very quiet.

Hi, Joe.

Joe?

Something interesting out there?

Oh, just watching a visitor leave.

Through the window?

I heard of dissatisfied clients, but that's ridiculous.

Who was he?

Just a reckless driver.

What did you get?

Not much.

Guthrie was in Vietnam... Ninety-Seventh Fighter Squadron.

Separated from the Air Force in April of '67.

He joined Monarch Air Freight in August of the same year,

and the crash was in March of '68.

What I don't understand is why Monarch is so uptight over the crash.

Where are you going?

To give a reckless driver a ticket.

Aw, Joe, not again.

And after you've pulled the prints, I'd like my paperweight back.

You want you own prints?

Confess, Joe. What is it you've think you've done?

Just run it through, Mitch. It may get you Hewitt's murderer.

You really think there is such an animal?

Well, run it through and find out.

Okay. But'll take some time.

Fine. It happens I have some to kill.

Hello, Amanda.

Your secretary said I could wait.

I was frightened.

Oh, I don't know, maybe it's just my imagination,

but I think somebody was watching the house.

Phone rang four or five times,

and every time I answered it, the line went dead.

Well, you better stick around where I can keep an eye on you.

I think we're on the track of something.

What's that?

This is a report on a cargo plane

that crashed about eighty miles south of Tonopah, Nevada,

going from San Francisco to Louisville, Kentucky.

Alan Guthrie's plane.

Yeah, he was the pilot on the plane who's either dead or "lost."

I don't know why Monarch Air Freight is making such a mystery of it.

It was really quite some explosion.

It's amazing they got down in one piece.

Well, the cargo list and the list of stuff they recovered checks out.

Looks like they got everything back.

Or did they get it back?

Look at this.

The weight totals.

What about them?

Well, they're different.

Hmm.

Exactly 1,449 pounds more listed on the shipping manifest

than there is on the list of recovered cargo.

Bingo. There it is.

One crate of machine parts.

1,449 pounds.

But if it was lost, why wouldn't the company admit it?

I don't know.

And there doesn't seem to be a claim for insurance, either.

There seems to be something here by the plane.

Could be a road.

- See it? - Mm-hmm.

Looks like a track here...

and then it picks up again over here.

Excuse me.

- Hello, Mitch. - Joe.

Going off duty and I, uh, figured you want to know about George Hewitt.

I do.

We sent the reports back east and they just came back.

Saying what?

Saying his name is not George Hewitt.

What did his mother call him?

Samuel Whittaker, born New York, 1931.

Graduate Columbia.

Air Force, rank of Captain.

Oh, and he served in Vietnam.

Ninety-seventh Fighter Squadron.

Right.

Well, Joe, if you knew that, why did you make...

Just instinct, Mitch.

Tell me, did he ever work for the Monarch Air Freight?

No no, nothing about that.

He was thrown out of the Air Force, though.

Quote, separated for the good of the service, unquote.

Gambling or black market is best we can gather.

But he had no wants against him before he changed his name.

He was clean.

Then why change his name?

Joe, I can't do all your work.

Oh, Mitch, there is one thing you can do for me.

What's that?

Speed up the prints on my paperweight.

What did the Lieutenant have to say?

Oh, he just wanted to talk about somebody involved in this case...

Sam Whittaker.

Who?

That was your husband's real name.

I guess I really didn't know him that well, did I?

You told me that, uh, your husband flew down to Hialeah.

Was that a commercial flight?

No. He rented a plane.

Did he do any flying after you got here?

Not with me.

But he rented a plane last week.

No, it wasn't, it was the week before last.

That would have been just before the last deposit in his checking account.

Do you know where he went?

No. He didn't say.

Do you know where he rented the plane?

I'm sorry.

But I'd just used the car and the tank was almost empty.

I remember telling him about it and he said he'd have it filled when he got there.

It couldn't have been more than a few miles from the house.

Good girl.

That's Mr. Hewitt, all right.

Sorry about your husband, Mrs. Hewitt.

Thank you.

He used to fly out of here all the time.

You know where he went?

No, local, I think. Just keeping his time in.

He used to handle that 185 like it was a fighter plane.

Do you mind if we look at your log?

No, not at all. It's in the office.

See, he'd be gone for different times.

Here's an hour and a half local.

There's six hours.

Another four hours.

There's no pattern, really. A guy just likes to get up and cruise.

These figures are the same each time.

What figures?

Fuel consumption.

Approximately the same amount of fuel was used every time.

Meaning what?

Well, I'd say that means he went to the same place every time.

He just stayed on the ground a little longer sometimes than others.

The question is where did he set down?

- Mind if I use your phone? - No, help yourself.

Is this an L.A. sectional chart?

It sure is.

Oh, uh, Lieutenant Webster, please.

I wonder if you have an extra one I can take with me.

Yeah, coming up.

Hello, Mitch.

What did you get on my paperweight?

They said the prints are classified.

Why is that?

Joe, I asked them the same question.

What did they say?

They said the prints are classified.

Thanks a lot, Mitch.

Here's the airport where he started.

The fuel consumption on the 185 is twelve gallons at seventy percent power.

That gives us a cruising range of about a hundred and sixty-five miles.

Now, he used eighteen gallons on each trip,

half of that is nine gallons,

which would give us a distance of about, uh, 120 miles, more or less.

Let's take a look at that...

To scale.

That's 120 miles...

That's about fifteen and a half inches.

Now, if we're not wrong, he set down someplace on the perimeter of that circle.

Now this section, the southeastern section, is all built-up coastal area.

Not likely for a man with something to hide.

South and southwest is all water, so that's out.

Northwest is mountain ranges, it's too tough to land.

And just north of Bakersfield is farm country.

That's a possibility.

Due north is mountain ranges again, east of that is the desert.

As a matter of fact, the circle touches on Death Valley.

Well, I was wondering if I'd see you again, Mr. Tucker.

If that's your name.

Seems everyone in this case has a different one.

I checked with the Eastern Bar Association.

There is no Albert Tucker.

I'm Tucker, all right.

What have you found?

I see you have the Monarch file. Good.

Yeah, that's what I've been doing. What have you been doing?

Just trying to solve the Monarch case.

Or rather, trying to get you to solve it for me.

What did you expect me to find?

Gold, Mr. Mannix.

Gold?

Half a million dollars' worth.

Hold it!

My identification's in my pocket.

Very slowly.

Sergeant Albert Tucker, San Francisco Mint.

We were shipping the gold to Fort Knox.

I've been on this case for two years.

Well, since when do they have guards doing their investigating for them?

Well, I was the officer in charge of the shipment.

And I got suspended.

They needed a patsy and you were it, huh?

That happens to be true.

The only way I can clear myself is to find that gold.

What's that got to do with Hewitt and Guthrie?

Well, the way I reconstruct what happened on the plane,

Guthrie killed the co-pilot, then he landed the plane.

He set a fire and then an explosion

to make it look as though he'd been blown out in mid-air.

Your husband's job was to follow the cargo plane in his own ship.

Then he landed next to Guthrie in a pre-determined spot

and they transferred the gold.

The machine parts.

The 1,400-pound discrepancy.

That's a lot of gold.

Why is it nothing was said about it in the newspaper?

Well, the Treasury Department asked Monarch to keep it quiet

because they knew that sooner or later

whoever had the gold would feel that he was in the clear

and he'd tip his hand.

And her husband double-crossed Guthrie.

Beat him, left him for dead, and took off with the gold.

When Guthrie came to, he had to walk out.

I imagine Hewitt must have felt he really had it made...

until Guthrie caught up with him.

Of all the times your husband landed, he must have left some trace.

Uh, look, Mannix.

You've got a pilot's license.

- I know, I checked. - So?

So I can't fly.

But I know the kind of a spot he'd pick.

I don't know where, you know where, but you don't know what to look for.

So I think we kind of need each other.

That's a pretty cagey deal

for a man that's fighting to clear his record and regain his self-respect.

Hmm... I'm fighting for that ten percent recovery fee.

That can buy me a whole lot of self-respect.

Tango 473, ready for takeoff.

Tango 473, you are cleared for takeoff.

It was all checked out this morning.

It'll be just fine.

Look if you've got everything you want, can I go now?

Sure.

Ah, it's too rocky to land.

Try down there.

Land here. I think we've found it.

Yeah, I guess that could be used as a wind sock.

I don't know how safe these supports are.

Maybe you'd better wait here until we check it out.

I'd rather go with you.

All right.

- This looks like it might be it. - Yeah.

Here, maybe we can get this one loose.

Well, here's the furnace, but there's no sign of the gold.

What made you so sure it was hidden in a mine?

Because you can't sell mint gold.

It's too pure.

That's why I knew he'd have to find a mine

where there are natural impurities available.

Then with heat and water...

He could refine the gold into nuggets he could sell anywhere.

I think the rest of the gold must be back in that mine somewhere.

Well, I guess you'd better go that way and we'll go this way.

Right.

Oh, it's all right.

They're just bats. We must have scared them.

Come on.

Tucker?

Tucker!

What happened?

I found it. I found it.

Well, don't touch anything else.

You're liable to bring this whole mountain down on us.

But the gold is there, Mannix!

Tucker!

Tucker!

Hold it!

Get your hands high. I've got a gun here, Mannix.

I'll use it.

Higher.

Huh... Guthrie.

Just risen from the dead.

That's right.

Your husband was a stubborn man, Mrs. Hewitt.

He tried to kill me once; then he hired Mannix to find me so he could try again.

But I caught up with him first, and he went... over the mountain.

Why did you kill him, Tucker?

He was your case.

Because he was going to shoot you... You and Mrs. Hewitt, here.

A man like that doesn't have any compunction

at all about killing people.

Amanda, why don't you wait out by the plane?

I'll give Tucker a hand with the gold.

Stay where you are... don't move!

You move and I'll kill her.

Drop the light.

Now very slowly... very carefully...

Take your gun... two fingers... And throw it over there.

I kind of figured you were beginning to put things together.

You know now that I was in on this thing from the beginning, don't you?

And you took those check stubs out of the desk,

and then you gave them right back to us out in front of the house.

Hewitt was dead.

I thought maybe you might be able to help us find the gold.

And you did.

Now that you've killed your one remaining partner,

you don't have to split the gold with anyone.

- It's neater that way. - And now you're going to kill us.

I wouldn't put it that way, Mrs. Hewitt.

Let's just say it's fair exchange.

The gold leaves, and you two stay.

Nobody's found this place for two years.

They ain't likely to.

Nobody can tie me into it.

How are you going to get the gold out?

You can't fly a plane.

I'm afraid I lied to you about that, too, Mannix.

I can fly.

I've been over half the mines in California and Nevada.

But you found those flight schedules, and that pin-pointed it for me.

Hold it.

It's classified fingerprints, I presume.

The name is Barnes.

And I thought it was you who ran Hewitt off that mountain road.

If we drive like that in the Treasury Department, we lose our license.

We've had you on radar since you took off.

Yeah, well... that's very efficient.

We do pride ourselves on our department, Mr. Mannix.

Next time, call us.

I'll do that.

You're absolutely sure, huh?

No, I'm not. That's why I'm going.

Before I do something impulsive again.

Where to this time?

They'll tell me when I get to San Francisco.

For how long?

Two years.

That's a long time between huevos rancheros.

Just long enough to get my head together.

Bye, Amanda.