Original subtitles

(Music)

Why this place?

I know what I'm doing. Don't worry.

Come on in, honey. We gotta talk price.

Blondes are more fun, honey.

114, okay, Manny?

I just thought you ought to see this one.

This guy by the name of Colin Fletcher gets mugged.

Same M.O. as the others.

Hooker picks up some guy, takes him upstairs.

There's a dude waiting behind the door.

Zack!

Claudine the Dream?

His wallet was here. He had a half a pint of whiskey.

It smashed when he went down.

There's whiskey on his breath.

That seal looks broken to you.

How come he's still got his watch and ring?

Well, like I was saying, there were credit cards in his wallet that they didn't get.

I'll notify next of kin.

Hey, look, man. I just work in a bar. I don't do nothing illegal.

You don't take anything for stirring John's through a good time.

What, a girl wants to lay a tip on me? That's against the law?

Hey, why don't you get off my back?

You're kidding, right?

Talk nice to the officer.

You want to hurt his feelings?

All he wants to know is this girl with the platinum hair.

Now, what's her name?

Honest, I ain't never seen her before.

She comes in here and she picks up this dude at the jukebox.

And she lays her money down on the bar for my tip.

Her money?

Yeah, underneath the bar.

Well, how come this Claudine the Dream character

winds up in the same room with a stiff?

Hey, Manny, you always double book?

I guess that other girl just took a key without

asking for it and put it back without telling me.

I gave the same room to Claudine.

How did I know there was a body to be cleaned up?

I just want you guys to know that I think you're a couple of beautiful human beings.

Of course I'm scared.

Fletcher was going through the books of a company I was operating.

Fletcher gets murdered.

Fletcher had some kind of accident.

Nobody says it was connected with you in any way.

So forget it, Mr. Marshall.

Still, I'm scared.

You made certain guarantees, Mr. Cain.

You'd better stick with them.

I'm watching out for you as best I can.

Now you just do your part.

Well?

He says Fletcher's death was an accident.

Not to worry.

You, you, you, and you, and all the idiots.

Here's your coffee, Lieutenant.

Oh, uh, Blige?

I just come from the borough commander's office.

And he was boiling.

He says... Pun said he isn't fun anymore.

I know, Frank.

Why don't you tell him to move to Detroit? I don't know.

To continue.

The commander pointed out that Fletcher's death was a homicide off a Murphy game.

And that 27 out-of-towners have been victims

of Murphy games in the past three weeks.

Only this one puts us on the front page.

I know, Frank.

I know.

Now, what about Fletcher?

Colin Duncan Fletcher, 37, married, three kids,

a bookkeeper for investment securities and corporate of Cleveland.

On vacation in town alone with a wife and kiddies? What?

Word from Cleveland Police Department is that

he was in New York on temporary assignment

to check some books or accounting procedures of an outfit over on 8th Avenue.

Lester LeBaron dresses.

The wife is flying in from Cleveland to identify the body.

It's gonna be hard to explain to her.

Explain what?

That this is just a routine Murphy game that went sour on her husband? Is that it?

I think it stinks.

I'll tell you why.

Because this blonde puts her money up front.

And because the dive never saw her before, right?

Never saw her, but yet she knew the routine so perfectly

that she was able to take a key off the hook without many even knowing about it.

You know, somebody I'd say had done some very thorough research on his project.

What else bothers you, Theo?

Wallet, watch, the ring, a few credit cards they forgot.

Hey, Frank, that's the whole point of the Murphy game, isn't it, greed?

But I want a rundown of Fletcher's last day, second by second,

at his hotel, at the clothing manufacturers.

I want to know if he was playing around, and if he was with whom.

Also, how he found out about that side street bar.

Well, we got a description from Claudine of the alleged prostitute.

Description? I can hear it now.

Ah, blonde and cheap, honey.

Come on, will you, Fatso? And what was the man with her?

A tall dude in dark clothes. That's terrific.

That means we gotta pick up almost everybody on the West Side of 55th Street.

What about the whiskey bottle in Fletcher's pocket?

The lab feels that the bottle was sealed when it was smashed.

Uh-huh. And the autopsy?

No alcohol in his bloodstream, not much at all.

So we got a platinum blonde nobody's ever seen before,

with a male accomplice, working a fake Murphy game on an aditana.

We have a dead man, and that's all we've got.

Rizzo, were they able to lift any prints off their wallet?

Three partials, lieutenant, small enough to be that of a woman's.

Left hand, but they weren't Claudine's.

That's no help to us without a full set for comparison.

All right, I thought I asked you to find out what Fletcher was doing yesterday.

Every second.

So maybe it was just a Murphy game.

I mean, they get interrupted.

The victim doesn't have to be drinking.

They don't get the credit cards, huh?

Maybe Fletcher was Casanova disguised as a bookkeeper.

The hooker, a jealous husband in drag.

Why go through the whole charade? Why not just knock him off in an alley?

Hey, Frank.

Suppose I said I thought he was hit, professionally.

A contract on a minor league out-of-town bookkeeper?

Who says that's all he is?

You know, here we are looking at a botched-up Murphy game

when I really think what we have here is a well-planned,

coordinated, cold-blooded execution.

Come in.

Mrs. Fletcher.

You told me you were the man investigating Collins.

Please, sit down.

They explained the circumstances of his death.

But I don't believe that Collins went up to that room with that woman for sex.

He wouldn't.

That was a prostitute.

You mean alternative.

He called me just a couple of hours before they say he died.

Mm-hmm.

Where would you from where?

That office where he worked.

Well, tell me, how did he seem?

Seem.

You know, same as always. How's the kids? How's the weather? How's this?

He said he had an important appointment.

A very important appointment.

I guess he sounded...

excited.

Mrs. Fletcher?

Are you keeping anything back from me?

Nothing, Lieutenant.

Nothing at all.

You guys, I mean, give me a break.

I had the same conversation with you last week.

It's the same dress, the exact same dress,

and there's a two-inch difference in the sleeves.

What am I supposed to do with them? Who can I send that to, huh? Excuse me.

Excuse me. I'm Detective Crocker, Manhattan South.

This is Detective Saperstein.

Hi. How are you?

And I am Rick Levine. Hi.

I guess it's about Fletcher's death, huh?

Well, we'd like to talk to the manager, Mr. Adrian Marshall.

Adrian Marshall.

Well, Adrian Marshall no longer has the key to the establishment.

It seems his relationship has been severed.

What's your relationship with this little barren dresser, Mr.

Levine? Well, I work for Investment Securities, Incorporated.

We manage the business.

Well, that's the same company Fletcher worked for.

Right, except I worked for New York, and he was hired out of Cleveland headquarters.

You know, I didn't meet him, so let's wait.

All right, if you don't mind, I'm a little confused about all this.

Who is Lester LeBaron?

Lester LeBaron is a rich playboy-type kid

who founded this organization three years ago

because he wanted to score with a lot of models.

Then he hires this hippie chick who creates a spring line that is dynamite.

I mean absolute dynamite.

The buyers couldn't believe it. They ordered left and right.

Only LeBaron couldn't fill them.

Why not?

I just told you. He didn't know anything about the business.

I mean, he didn't have the right cloth.

He didn't have the right cutters.

If I tell you that he could move 5,000 units a week out of here

when each of the big five wanted 5,000 units a week, you know what I'm talking about.

And it was then that our company stepped in.

So that's how investment securities got into the act, huh?

They were looking for a place to put their money to work.

So they bought Lester LeBaron dresses.

Now, this guy in San Diego, Adrian Marshall,

he convinces them he's the genius that should operate Lester LeBaron.

He's slick, drew himself a top salary.

He had them convinced that they could just sit up

there in Cleveland and have the shackles just roll in.

Well?

And nothing, the shackles rolled out.

2.8 million last year.

So Marshall rips off investment securities for close to $3 million.

I wish I knew for sure.

I came in, I went over the books, I talked to Marshall.

I was sure that man was absolutely ripping him off.

I mean, he charges private planes for business junkets and for pleasure.

Besides, he wants to show the spring line in Los Angeles.

So what does he do?

He flies 75 buyers out there, plus his family.

And how long did management put up with this?

For over two years.

The guy was an incredible talker.

He said he was building an image for the company.

I say he was building an image for himself.

He had a Rolls Royce, a Mercedes with color television,

a Maserati coupe.

How about a $95,000 wardrobe for his wife?

Italian.

I told my employees, get an injunction, get that man out of here.

Oh, any criminal charges?

Well, we went to the U.S. Attorney's office.

Showed them the evidence, and they said last week

that we didn't have enough for a case against him.

So he's in Long Island,

doing no work and getting a lot of pay.

Collecting his pay?

Still?

Sure.

He threatens a countersuit.

Defamation of character.

So we got a stalemate, except he's way ahead.

Three more years at 200,000.

And our victim, Mr. Fletcher.

What exactly was he doing for investment securities?

Well, he was doing everything I was doing,

except with Fletcher, it meant a microscope.

That guy kept his pencil sharp enough to draw blood.

These are things he was working on before he was killed?

Yeah, I guess so.

I see.

671 slash 30 slash 6801 slash 2 slash 30.

Well, what's this?

Beats me.

You're the detective, you figure it out.

Hey, wait a minute, let me see that.

Last week, Fletcher was going through a ledger.

And all of a sudden he lets out a long whistle

like he suddenly found a naked chick pressed in between the pages, you know?

Then he writes down the figures and puts it back in that lockbox.

Which ledger?

Who knows?

You gotta understand that he was shuffling them around like he was dealing stud.

He told me that he knew Marshall was cooking the

books and he was the boy who was gonna prove it.

Very, very self-righteous dude.

His wife said he'd call from here a couple hours before he was killed.

Said he had an appointment.

Did he say anything to you the night he was killed,

who it was with or anything like that?

No.

No, he never talked much.

Just did a lot of arithmetic.

Three horses of parlay, Irish swoop steaks.

What is this?

Hey, lieutenant, where are we going?

Long Island.

I want to see that 96,000 banana wardrobe firsthand.

Malcolm Kane, please.

Malcolm, this is Wilson.

I thought I'd better call you right away.

Thought you ought to know.

They were in there with him a long time.

I'm Lieutenant Kojak to see Mr. Marshall.

This is Detective Stavros.

Come on in, please.

Thank you.

My father will be with you in just a moment.

All right?

How do you do?

I'm Lieutenant Kojak.

This is Detective Stavros.

Detective.

Good afternoon, Lieutenant.

What can I do for you?

Well, tell me about Colin Fletcher, Mr. Marshall.

I didn't know Fletcher personally.

We never met face to face.

Do you mind if I smoke?

Of course.

Thank you.

Mr. Marshall, you must have known that Fletcher was going through your books

looking for questionable transactions, you know, embezzlement, fraud.

It sure is elegant.

There is absolutely no proof of those alleged crimes.

And the United States Attorney's Office apparently agrees.

I suggest you be careful what you say to me.

I'll take anyone into court who I think deserves it.

Court?

I've already filed suit against investment securities.

I'm going to get back in control.

I didn't think there was very much left to control.

In my opinion, the company has a brilliant future.

Frankly, that's all I have to say for now, Lieutenant.

You know, I was down in the Virgin Islands.

It was very nice.

Did you buy this down there?

No, we've never been to the Caribbean.

I can't remember where we picked that up.

Hey, Stavros, how come you know so much about the Caribbean?

I mean, why isn't it Tahiti?

Well, Lieutenant, it's very easy.

Look, you see, there are no coral reefs

and the waves break right down on the beach.

That surely isn't the Pacific.

Should I be impressed, Detective?

Or are you just jumping to conclusions?

What about, say, the Andaman Islands?

Where's that?

Off the coast of India.

They're quite primitive.

Oh, well, I doubt if it's India, Mr. Marshal.

Why do you say that?

Well, why, with people water-skiing and all that?

Thanks for your time.

Call 7-4-0, K.

7-4-0, K.

Respond to list of a bar and dress company,

38th Street and 8th Avenue.

Relative to a past assault and possible kidnapping, K.

Right.

Excuse me for a minute.

Rick Levine was just grabbed right off the street in broad daylight.

This is his wife, and she saw them take him.

Did she help?

She can't even remember what they looked like.

Just two big goons grabbed him off,

took him off the street, and took him off in the car.

Levine snatched off the streets?

Fletcher snatched off the mortal call entirely?

You know, somebody hasty snoops from city investing.

And if I hadn't been with Mr.

Marshal while this was happening, who knows what

naughty thoughts I'd be having about him right now.

Yeah, well, I think this guy,

he has a connection, this Mr. Marshal.

All right, get some answers, okay?

Try to impress your superiors. Go ahead.

Now, you get in touch with city investment in Cleveland,

find out everything you can about Levine.

He's bonded, so he's got to be Prince.

I want a copy of Mr. Marshal's prints, too, if they

got them, and all the background they got on them.

Here, have the lab lift Mrs. Marshal's prints from this ashtray,

and try to get some sort of rundown on her background, too.

How come?

Well, what you said about the Caribbean made sense, that painting,

and the other souvenirs, probably from that area.

Only she makes a great big deal about never having been there.

Probably nothing to it.

But I got news for you.

I'm curious.

Hey, Frank.

Look, I got a work for Levine.

What's your excuse fagging around this hall? Just $1.

12.50 downstairs, pinnacle.

Figure $1.

85 an hour.

Hey, that's some moonlighting.

What is that arrangement?

That's my pizza warmer.

I have a piece.

Got any cream soda?

Good thing I've got under your chin and shed it. All right.

Okay.

What's wrong, Theo?

I told you I thought Fletcher was hit, right? Professionally.

Because the blonde who took him upstairs did

a research on that hotel and bar perfect.

And because he got hit a lot harder than any.

sapper's gonna hit anybody unless he wants to kill him, right?

He was meant to die.

Maybe he wasn't professional.

Maybe it was just a good job.

We run across a lot of slick amateurs.

Well, what about the two cool Sharpies

who shuffle being off the streets in midday with no commotion?

There's something very professional going on, Frank.

Where is Lester LeBaron in all of this?

He's in Europe

looking for new models.

It's true.

It's been confirmed.

Yeah.

Make anything of this?

He was in a lockbox in Fletcher's desk.

Somehow it was important to him.

It's not a phone number.

It's not a safe combination.

It's not an address.

Call Washington.

It might be a numbered Swiss account.

I called four government agencies myself.

I don't like mysteries, right?

So far nobody's called back.

Incidentally,

whatever happened to that FBI report we're supposed to get?

You didn't get that yet?

I didn't get it yet, no.

Let me sleep on my winnings.

I'll follow up tomorrow for you.

Hey, Theo.

I love your pizza, Robin.

Yeah.

Lieutenant Kojak? That's right.

Who's this?

Just listen.

I got people on the streets.

You got cops on the streets.

So what's he compromise?

That's how we're going to save the city, right?

Hey, it's too late, baby.

We're already down at tubes.

What does it all mean, huh?

It means we got something for each other.

On this kidnap number today.

I'm in the bar at the corner of 7th and Broadway.

I'm waiting on you.

Who was that?

I don't know, Frank.

Whatever it was.

Has something to do with the Levine caper?

Can't pass it up, can I? Kojak.

Mo Pearl.

You never heard of him.

Uh-huh.

Now, Mo used to be the biggest Shylock in Long Island.

What'd you do, give up country living, Mo?

Mo Pearl is dead.

He died in Denmora.

Understand?

My name is Jim Ryan.

I sell fixtures, hangers, racks.

Supplies in the district here.

Yeah, sure.

Legitimate business, man, right?

Buy a thousand gross on my coat hangers or I'll break your arm, right?

Hey, you think what you want.

I-I can't stop you.

Now, this is causing me big trouble with this kidnap.

This guy, uh, Sky Levine,

he snatched East of 7th.

Well, East of 7th belongs to somebody else.

That is somebody else.

Figures I'm intruding on his territory.

Guys are calling me up,

laying heavy numbers on me.

Let me get to the point.

Hey, you got high blood pressure?

Mo, talk nice to the captain.

Captain? Uh-uh.

Hey, I'm sorry.

Who knew? Go on.

Anyhow, I asked around.

Finest book you saw to snatch.

Stood on the corner watching.

Couldn't believe it.

You're lucky.

He keeps numbers in his head like you guys remember holidays.

And, uh, I got the license on a limo that drove off with that guy in it.

Hey, ain't you glad?

You know I've been looking all over for witnesses, right?

So I've done you a favor.

Mo, you want something?

Don't put too big a price on it.

Okay, you just get the word out.

It wasn't me.

I never made a move East of 7th Avenue in my life.

You got it.

$149, CZU.

New York State.

Okay, we can call it from here.

I don't want to be at the bureau.

One problem, Kojak.

Lucky you don't think I'm playing games with you.

Now, why would I take that, Mo?

Well, I wanted to find out if this car belonged to my competition, understand?

He could have been setting me up or, uh, make a patsy out of me.

So I had this friend, uh,

check out the ownership for me.

And?

It's, uh, registered to an outfit called the Altamont Corporation.

It's a dummy corporation.

Belongs to the feds.

The feds?

Yeah.

They, uh, they got a couple of special strike forces.

Real heartbreakers.

Hey, get you something good, huh?

The feds kidnapped Rick Levine.

No wonder nobody in Washington is returning my calls.

Huh.

Our victim's back and better arrested than any of us.

Oh, Levine?

Yeah, apparently he got in at 10 o'clock last night, came in the back way,

saw a man on stakeout, didn't pick it up.

And neither he or his wife called us.

Now, you get his Fanny down here.

I want to talk to him.

On advice of counsel, Lieutenant, uh, Mr.

Levine is not talking with any cops unless a warrant is issued against him.

Advice of what, counsel?

He wouldn't say.

He referred me to a Malcolm Cain who works for some federal agency.

Malcolm Cain.

That's what the man said.

Uh-huh.

That figures.

How have you been, Mel?

Fine, thank you.

Kojak, have you ever thought what would happen if the feds leaned on you real good?

Well, you terrify me.

I got a talk with one of my witnesses in a murder case.

That's murder, Mel.

Now, what do I find?

I find my man has been snatched on a public street in broad daylight.

by a couple of your necktie salesmen.

And when he gets back home again, what?

He never heard of me.

Talked him out, he says.

So, here I am.

Rick Levine is under federal wraps.

End of explanation.

No questions, no answers. Period.

And I do mean period.

Now, this is supposed to get me off my murder case, Mel.

I mean, this baffling development I'm supposed to somehow ignore.

Baby.

You got me hooked on this case forever.

See you later, Mel.

Yes, Commissioner.

No, Commissioner.

You can rest assured, Commissioner.

Right.

Guess who that was.

Now, what are you?

You are some detective.

About Fletcher's murder.

We're instructed to limit our investigation to routine channels.

And report all names of suspects and witnesses

to the Chief of Detectives before the court.

Before we interrogate them.

In other words,

a properly managed investigation.

Theo, who knows this whole Cuchafrito,

the real story?

Maybe Levine is CIA and Marshall is a Russian spy they've got under observation.

Hey, with his background,

nothing's impossible.

Why?

Marshall's resume,

has he supplied at the city investing.

High school, college,

first place of employment.

I called a few of these references.

Everybody gets very, very cagey when I ask for specifics.

One administrator remembered him at the high school here.

One dean remembered him at college.

Yeah, A, B.

Here's his marks, not bad either.

It's just a transcript, Theo.

I call the person in charge of housing at the college.

He never had a room there.

You know why?

Because Marshall never even went to that college.

He's a paper man, Theo.

Paper, the wife and the kids too.

A paper man, huh?

And who phonies a background better than the feds?

Huh, will you really go to suggest the Russians?

Theo, I've done enough research on my own

to think that we better play this game the way we were told.

Well, you have, Frank.

You've given me my instructions.

What, you're going to follow?

Uh-huh.

You really want to know the answer to that?

No.

All right, thanks.

Hey, Theo.

Look at those numbers you showed me that Fletcher wrote down.

Well, take a look at this.

My hero.

Now, what numbers set up like this?

The one indispensable number you need to pay your taxes,

to have a bank account,

to receive income from any... Social Security number.

All right.

Now, Fletcher runs across four Social Security numbers in sequence.

And somehow that's very special to him.

Now, you used to mess around with some girl in welfare, right?

She must have a pipeline into Social Security records.

You go make a date with her.

Check these out.

And do not make it an official police request.

You get the prints on Marshall? Yes, sir.

They came in this morning with his resume, but there's no arrest record on him.

Tell fingerprinting I want them run through Interpol

and don't memo their request to any federal agency

and have them check their Caribbean files for starters, okay?

Yes, sir.

I haven't heard a thing.

What have I had?

Why Interpol?

Because they're not under the thumb of some United States agency,

And because Marshall's house was filled with souvenirs from the Caribbean.

And maybe because Interpol can tell me if Mrs.

Marshall's lying,

which she makes a big deal out of saying they've never been down there.

Social Security number. That's very good.

Tell me, Frank, how'd you come up with it?

I didn't.

My niece Shannon did.

The eight-year-old?

So?

Just takes after me.

Captain, Lieutenant, jackpot.

Father, mother, daughter,

son in sequence.

Now, call me in, Kroger.

How does the Marshall family get four Social Security numbers in sequence?

By having them all issued at the same time.

Which ain't possible, right?

Well, let's just say it takes about the heaviest cloud imaginable from Uncle Sam,

which makes me think we'd better slow down.

Hey, Frank, are you kidding?

Slow down.

I got a woman without a husband, right?

Three kids without a father.

I'm not slowing down for his murderer, Frank.

Hey, forget it.

Very serious charges, Theo.

They're not charges, Evan.

Good questions.

For instance,

why were no criminal charges filed against Adrian Marshall?

Because the complaint lodged by investment securities gave me nothing on which

to base a true bill of indictment.

The line between mismanagement

and embezzlement is not an easy one to fix.

Now, if it makes you feel any better,

my own feeling was that Marshall probably was guilty of misappropriating funds.

But, uh, proof.

Legal proof.

They just didn't give me any.

So?

Your decision not to file was arrived at

without pressure from any other federal agency,

Pressure?

No.

There were inquiries.

From Malcolm Cain?

I mean his people?

From Cain, yes.

I was able to tell him honestly we just didn't have the evidence for a conviction.

You think he would have pressured if we were ready to prosecute?

That's outrageous.

That's right, baby.

Now, there's a man, Levine.

I want to talk to him. Can you help?

You claim Mr. Levine you never talked with Martin

Cain or any member of a federal investigation agency?

I understand it, lieutenant. I'm not supposed to be here.

I mean, I wasn't kidnapped, right?

There is nothing I can say to help you.

Listen, Mr. Levine.

You're in the middle of something that neither one of us clearly understands.

That's the murder of Colin Fletcher.

A man pretty much like you.

I was told not to say anything.

That's all I know.

Okay.

I'll ask some questions. You don't have to answer.

However, if you look toward that window over there, maybe I'll take it to mean yes.

Okay?

Let's talk about Marshall.

You know him by any other name?

You know anything about his wife?

His family life?

Do you know the color of your eyes, Mr.

Levine? Or maybe Mama's name?

Or your own name, Mr.

Levine? I was told in the interest of national security...

Mr. Levine, national security begins right up here.

With brains you don't let other people scramble for you.

And murder doesn't happen to be in the best interest of this country, Mr. Levine.

Fastein? I'm sorry.

Mr. Levine, why don't you go home?

Thanks a lot.

Lieutenant.

Lieutenant, Interpol's escort for us on Adrian Marshall.

Thanks to a certain detective's perceptive

observations about his interest in the Caribbean.

If this is good, Stavros, I'll buy you a blowfish lamp, okay? Don't worry.

Go ahead.

Well, it seems that Interpol had some partial fingerprints on a syndicate employee.

A man who spoke Spanish, ran three mob control casinos in the Caribbean for them.

And a man who just vanished, family and all, three years ago.

They knew him as Ariana Maseca.

We know him as Adrian Marshall.

My, my, my, my.

What the hell have we got here?

You're trying to tell me now that Adrian Marshall is

really Ariana Maseca, formerly casino manager for the mob?

Him and his whole family, they lived in Cuba.

Moved out after Castro to some of the other islands.

Interpol had their eye on him.

He went to Miami three, four years ago, apparently got picked up by the IRS.

That's the last the four little Maseca were ever seen by that name again.

Yeah, the IRS wiped out half the Miami mob on tax evasion charges about the same time.

Maseca's help, no doubt.

Probably made a deal with him.

No identity, relocation.

He probably went underground in San Diego and got stiff with some dull job.

Probably dug up some action for himself in New York.

Ripping off Lester LeBaron's dresses.

You know, Fletcher stumbles on Marshall's funny social security numbers.

Figures Marshall has some sort of pool, probably a lot to hide.

Fletcher could have blackmailed him or maybe

tried to sell the information to the syndicate.

Fletcher? No, I doubt it.

I think he was a lot straighter than that.

Well, if Fletcher was that straight, maybe he

leveled with Marshall and demanded an explanation.

What about this appointment that Fletcher told his wife he had?

The one that made him very excited.

So? I mean you were the flashy blonde?

That's exciting all by itself.

That lady was more than just flashy, baby.

She was smart. She had good timing.

Cased the situation perfectly.

And Frank, guess who fits that description?

A lady who's handled a lot of ups and downs in

her life, like a very cool, cool cookie cookie.

All right, check the prints found on Fletcher's wallet.

Against the prints of Mrs. Marshall, we lift her from that ashtray.

Mrs. Marshall?

Thank you.

Hello?

This is Kane with a problem.

Interpol came up with your real name.

Marseca. They gave it to the NYPD.

But you said that couldn't happen.

I said there's no reason why it should have happened.

And it wouldn't have, except for this investigation into Fletcher's death.

I talked to Levine yesterday.

I found out he had steered this lieutenant Kojak

onto some numbers that Fletcher had written down.

Well, Levine doesn't know where his best social

security card to be ran through for you is.

Fletcher never got in touch with you about these numbers, did he?

No, I never met Fletcher in my life.

Tell me, Kane, how bad is a cover blown? Tell me.

Straight.

My men checked your place from time to time.

There's no sign of trouble yet.

Your men come out here?

What if they're followed?

Mr. Marshall, you've got other worries.

This Kojak has got something to work on now.

There's not much we can do to slow him down.

There's leaks in every police department.

I told you when you wouldn't stay in San Diego, we would cooperate on one more move.

Now the problem is yours.

I'm a man of action, Kane. I was dying out there.

I can sell campus for the rest of my life.

Kane!

Return everything we can into cash.

First, jewelry, everything.

No. If there's real danger, we don't want to waste one minute.

I'm sorry.

Sorry? Don't say that, Aureano.

We came from nowhere, you and me, with nothing.

And we had 20 good years south of Miami.

And we'll have 20 more good ones somewhere else.

We tried our best.

Or I should say, our worst.

Killing Fletcher.

It was a mistake.

We'll pick up the children at school.

My jewelry's in the safe with the cash.

That's right. Mr. and Mrs. Aureano Marsica.

You'd better include the name Adrian Marshall on the warrant, too.

As soon as possible. We'll come by and pick it up.

Right.

Frank, Mrs. Marshall's prints were found on Fletcher's wallet.

We're getting a warrant heading out to his house right now.

Don't you think a warrant with Marshall's name on it

could get back to Kane, who might warn Marshall?

You could be right.

We'll pick up Kane, tell him we gotta talk.

If we got him with us, he can't get too far ahead of us, can he?

Get Kane on the phone for the captain.

There he is now.

Kojak, what's this all about and where we're going? Get in, Mal.

It's important.

So?

So, we're arresting Mr. and Mrs. Marsica.

Why? Because you know their real identity?

Stay away, Kojak.

Stay away from Fletcher's murderers.

No way, baby. Come on.

We got the warrant!

Get in the other car.

Right.

You know, we put Mrs. Marshall in a platinum wig.

Try it on a lineup, see if Claudine the dream recognizer.

Also Hunk, other people in that bar.

Why would the one that killed Fletcher

and why go through this whole hooker masquerade?

Well, I don't know for sure, Mal,

but if I don't try and find the answers,

you're certainly not gonna help, are you?

You think I'm a real hard-nosed bum, don't you?

That I don't cooperate, right?

How would you like to go around knowing that

one slip you make will cost a family their lives?

If anything happens to Marshall and his family once you blow their cover,

then their lives are on your conscience, Kojak.

And thank God there's a few less on mine.

Around the back with Stavros.

Anybody?

I still can't get used to this.

Oh, my God.

Theo.

Yeah.

Was it worth the baby?

It was quick.

I know.

They made me watch.

This is Marsica.

Did you make any notifications?

Marshall.

Our name is Marshall.

My children.

I don't want to lose them.

I don't want them coming here.

I'm sorry.

I don't think this is the fault of anyone here.

Of course it is.

It's his fault and it's hers.

You pay your money and you take your chances, right?

Only that wasn't really fair for Fletcher, was it?

He wanted money.

Like everyone else.

We said we'd have to meet him someplace

where we wouldn't be recognized.

Crocker, help the lady outside.

We sent up four syndicate hulums thanks to him.

Yeah, for how long?

17 months was the longest.

This is not an easy job, Theo.

It's not easy for anybody, man.

Just got to keep trying.