All language subtitles for 07.04 A.A.P.I

Tell me how you killed the Fatman and why.

Oh, no!

Magnum, everybody knows
it's a murder.

Jean Claude Fornier
was poisoned.

Poisoned?

Strychnine
in his French onion soup.

You dirty rat.
I'm gonna rub you out.

I'm afraid you got
the wrong hombre, pilgrim.

How did you know
it was a murder?

Luther Gillis works alone.

Duck!

What's the deal?

No deal.

Tell me how you killed the Fatman and why.

Maybe I can
talk to the Lieutenant

about a few weeks off
for good behavior.

I'm not going in.

Why, Wilmer?

You said
you were coming alone.

I lied.

Who else knows
about the Fatman?

Now, if I told you that,

you'd have your goons
shoot me.

Care for a cigarette?
The names...

Say, Goliath,

you don't happen to
have a match, do you?

Come on, Wilmer.

You killed 'em.
You killed 'em.

We got here
as fast as we could.

You all right, Magnum?

Take him away, boys,
murder one.

Oh, and you better call the
coroner for the other two.

It's all over, Inspector.

Looks like you wrapped up
another one for us.

Got a match?

Oh, hi, boss.

You still here, Precious?

Yeah, I'm just trying to
decide what bills to pay.

Oh, by the way,
you have a late caller.

The Fatman's widow.

You forgot to tell me
she's such a looker.

Lock the door behind you on
your way out, will you, Precious?

Hello, Angel.

Out a little late,
aren't you?

I heard you got Wilmer.

I don't know
how I'll ever repay you.

Cash would be fine.

But you don't understand.

I mean, I don't know how I'll
ever be able to repay you.

You see, the Fatman,
he left me completely broke.

I don't have a dime
to my name.

Oh, Angel,
that's not what you told me

when you walked in here
three days ago.

I lied.

I've got
something else for you.

Something better than money.

Not tonight, Angel,
I have a headache.

What is it? It's heavy.

The stuff dreams are made of.

Like any of us,

Thomas Magnum
has his ups and downs.

Kind of goes
with the territory.

I mean, hey,
none of us are perfect.

Not even me.

But you can be sure
of one thing,

every time I came
to Bananaland on a case,

he was always there
to back me up,

to do the little things that don't
always show up in the box score.

Providing me with the back-up
and the legwork

that enabled me
to crack three major cases.

Speaking of
the word "cracked",

it reminds me of a time my little
brother thought he was a chicken.

We should have took him
to the doctor for a cure,

but we needed the eggs.

Well, enough of the frivolity.

So, in conclusion,
I just wanna say

that I'm very proud
to be here today

and be one of the Joes
that's taking part in honoring

our pal, Tom Magnum, as Local
Private Investigator of the Year.

And I hope to say

that maybe next year he'll get
lucky and win the real award.

The national one.

Well, thanks again, and I just
wanna turn the festivities back

to that super flash of a P.I.,
Richard Lindley, our Pres.

How'd I do?

You were wonderful, Luther.

I thought so.
Great joke, huh?

Thank you,
Mr. Gillis.

It's always a pleasure

to hear from one of the
pioneers in the field.

Now I would like to
bring to the podium

not a private investigator,

but nonetheless, a gentleman who
is as expert at law enforcement

as anyone who is attending
this convention.

The man who
almost single-handedly

crippled the drug dealers
in Southern France

and their leader,
Marcel Dubray.

A man whose methods
may not be sanctioned

by the Supreme Court
or the World Court,

but so far they have
the good sense

to let him keep on doing what
he does best to the criminals,

and that's arresting them.

So, ladies and gentlemen,

I give you
Inspector Jean Claude Fornier

of the
Marseilles Police Department.

Merci. Thank you.

You're all too kind.
Much too kind.

For your accolades

should be reserved to the
gentleman seated here on the dais,

the great private
investigator, Thomas Magnum.

I only did work
with him briefly,

but in that very short time,

I learned
much of his many talents,

his bravery,
his unique singing ability,

and his unique friends.

It gives me pleasure
to present this award,

for without the incredible efforts
of this great private investigator,

I would be dead today.

No!

No! Jean Claude!

Jean Claude?

Thomas.

Oh, gee, he croaked.

Thomas,
I just can't believe it.

It just doesn't
make any sense, does it?

He was such a charming,
vibrant man.

I remember the time
he was shot

and I came over and I brought him
some Chinese take-out, you know.

And then you came in
and you were jealous.

I wasn't jealous.

That's not what you told me.

Yeah. You said that...

I said Jean Claude was
a great guy.

Now, we've still got the room
you guys gave me...

There goes our party
right out the window,

right along with your award.

But there'll be
other awards, T.M.

Now, wait a minute. Wait
just a minute. I'm shocked.

No, no,
I'm more than shocked.

I'm hurt that you guys
would think for one minute,

one tiny little second,

that this silly,
unimportant little trinket

could have
any meaning to me

when put up against
the death of a human being.

Who you didn't like.

What's that got to do
with anything?

We're talking about
a human life here.

Oh, Thomas,
that's so beautiful.

Yeah. I'm sorry.
Hey, I misjudged you, T.M.

I mean, I know how much
you were counting on

having that thing
on your mantle and I...

I wasn't
counting on anything.

I mean, yes, I was flattered,
okay, I was proud.

But so what?

I mean, what really matters
is a friend,

a member of the profession
has crossed the river.

That's what counts.
Not this, this...

Award?

You're upset, Carol.

We've still got the room.
You go upstairs and rest.

Nobody goes anywhere.

Gentlemen.
Carol, my condolences.

What are you doing here?

Investigating a murder.

I'm not
investigating a murder.

You're going to a funeral.

I'm going to Detroit
on vacation.

Jean Claude Fornier
was poisoned.

Oh, my God. Poisoned? How?

According to forensics,

with about enough strychnine
in his French onion soup

to wipe out half of the
rat population of Waimanalo.

Which means someone at the
convention must have done it.

You got any leads?

Oh, no, you don't.
This is not my case.

The only reason I came
down here before I left

is to order everyone to
stay exactly where they are.

No one leaves town.

Bad luck about the award, Magnum.
I know you were counting on it.

If you're going on vacation,
who's handling the case?

Luther.

Right again, big guy.

No wonder they gave you
the old Poop 'n' Snoop Award.

Better luck next time.

What are you doing here?
Nothing.

You're investigating
the murder, aren't you?

You are.

How did you know
it was a murder?

Everybody knows
Jean Claude was quaffed.

It's all over the hotel.

You're looking for
some of the action, too, huh?

Forget about it, pal.
Luther Gillis works alone.

I don't want to
work with you, Luther.

Don't beg, Tom,
please don't beg.

You stay out of my way.
Do you understand?

Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Hey, hold it, gentlemen.

Ray Lemon.
Hotel Security.

What are you two
doing up on this floor?

Looking for the ice machine.
Luther...

I need some ice. I need
a drink. I need a drink.

Sorry, I got to
get my friend to his room.

You know, get him some coffee.
You know what I mean?

Yeah, you guys
wouldn't be so ambitious

as to try and con me
now, would you?

I mean, you're only about
the 10th and 11th P.I.'s

I've caught skulking around
looking for a clue.

Really?

Really.

Thomas Magnum?

You're the guy they're
throwing the shindig for?

Well, yeah, yes, I am.

That's in the old dumper now,
isn't it?

Well, it's unimportant,
really, Mr. Lemon.

Well, let me
give you guys a little clue.

The police are guarding
the victim's room.

So go play Sam Spade in
somebody else's hotel, will you?

Hey, sure.
No problem.

We'll stay
out of the way.

Oh, listen, by the way,
I haven't heard.

Who's the police detective
assigned to this case?

John Wayne.

Never a lawman
when you need one.

That rookie
better show up soon

or I'll have him pounding a
beat in a cane field, by golly.

Oh, yeah? He'll have to
step over me first. See.

What?
What are you talking about?

I'm doing
Edward G. Robinson.

See? See?
I'll get you for that. See?

You know?
Uh, no, I don't know.

You don't know? What do
you mean, you don't know?

Everyone who's anyone has
heard of Edward G. Robinson.

How about Cagney?

You dirty rat.
I'm gonna rub you out.

Okay, now it's your turn.

I'm afraid you got the wrong hombre,
pilgrim. I don't do impressions.

Oh, yeah? Let's see if you
can figure this one out.

I know
what you're thinking.

Lieutenant Gordon Katsumoto had
already searched Jean Claude's room

and had probably impounded
anything that might resemble a clue.

So why chance getting busted
by going over barren ground?

Well, maybe
because of something

Jean Claude had told me once
in confidence.

Something about
a little black book

that he hid
in a very special place

whenever he felt
his life was in danger.

And maybe remembering those little
details told to you over a beer

is what makes the difference between
an award-winning private investigator

and your
run-of-the-mill gumshoe.

Freeze, Magnum.

Let me count the felonies.

Put it down, Tracy.

You better tell me
what you're doing here.

Wait a minute,
wait a minute.

You ain't heard
nothing yet, folks.

No. I think you better tell me
what you're doing here, Tracy.

Now, I know you're not
a meter maid anymore,

but I don't think patrolmen,
patrolwomen,

are supposed to be lurking around
murder sites out of uniform.

Especially with Homicide
right outside the door.

I know that.

How did you get on
Jean Claude's balcony?

Or should I ask
Lieutenant Katsumoto?

No!

...guys, it's Dirty Harry.

Dirty who?

Talk to me, Tracy. Dirty who?
What's the matter with you?

Softly.
Dirty Harry. You know?

Okay. I'm no longer a cop.
"Go ahead, make my day."

Why?
I got fired.

Why?
Oh, it's really not important.

Well, how about,

"What's up, Doc?

"You wascally wabbit...

"Don't get excited, Rick,
I'm just..."

Inka dinka doo

It's okay, it's okay.

Now, for the last time, Tracy,
what are you doing here?

I am trying
to solve the murder.

How'd you know
it was a murder?

Magnum, everybody knows
it's a murder.

What, are you freelancing?

Of course not.

I'm a regular P.I. Now.
Just like you.

In the employ of the Richard
Lindley Detective Agency.

The Richard Lindley,
you know,

the President of the American
Association of Private Investigators.

The guy who was in charge
of the ceremony for the award

that you never got.

Have you talked to Lindley?

Yeah. About an hour ago.

Did he say any...

The plane, the plane... What plane?

Were they talking about
rescheduling the award or anything?

No.

Oh. Well, it's not important.

Look, Mr. Gillis...

So, what do you say, let's help each
other out and solve this grounder?

From the
greatest movie ever made.

Just like old times.
Ready? Here goes.

And this is
your last chance.

Frankly, Inspector,
I don't give a damn.

Look, it's been a pleasure
chatting with you, Mr. Gillis,

but I have to go inside
and call downtown.

A uniformed policeman was
supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.

Uh, wait!
What?

Uh, The Three Stooges!

Look, pilgrim,
you take your hands away,

or you're facing
a one-way trip to Boot Hill.

What was that?
The Three Stooges.

That's it!

Get out or I'll place you under
arrest for obstruction of justice.

Let's go.
Now, if you're not gone

by the time
I finish my call, I'll...

Hey, hey, are you all right?

Oh, it's my ticker.

Get the paramedicals.

Oh, hang on, partner,
I'll be right back.

Isn't this exciting?
No, it isn't.

Tracy, you're a nice person,
but every time I'm around you,

things just seem to fall
apart. You know what I mean?

Oh, gee, Thomas,
why are you so upset?

I'm not upset!

Yes, you are.

Okay, okay,

if it makes you happy,
I'm upset.

I could tell.

Here, catch.

How do you get fired
by the police department

and hired by someone
like Richard Lindley?

Well, that's
a very long story.

See, it all started...

Never mind, Tracy.
I don't... Never mind.

Here I come, get my leg.

I got it.

Catch my...

Whoa!

Thank you.

Tracy,

I can't stop you
from investigating,

but Jean Claude Fornier was
kind of a friend of mine.

Really?
Really.

So it's important to me that
I find out who his killer is

without any interference.

So I'm sure you'll understand
why I have to do this

alone.

Paramedics'll take another three
and a half minutes to get here.

Oh, great. All I need
is another stiff.

I gonna try some CPR.

Okay.

I'm not
that kind of boy, pal.

But maybe
if you play your cards right,

I might let you take me to the
party at the hospitality suite.

But... But you were just...

Probably gas.

Thanks for everything, pal.
See you around.

See?

I know what you're thinking,
but this time you're wrong.

Sure, it's a great feeling
to be the one guy

who finally cracks
a major case all on his own.

But I'm not really the kind of
private investigator

who has to always work alone
and grab all the glory.

I believe in teamwork and pulling
together to get the job done.

And I'm not too proud to
ask for help when I need it.

But when it comes to Tracy
Spencer and Luther H. Gillis,

I'd rather do it myself.

Who is it?
Gillis.

All right!

Boy, that just worked
like bear grease

on the lock of the ladies'
room at the Cleveland City Hall.

Reminds me of a case I had
in Calumet City back in '66.

It was a trucking company.

They were using their rigs to transport
illegal cases of peanut butter.

Illegal peanut butter?

Yeah, but that's not what
was really on the inside.

But quit meandering, Magnum.

You got to live in the present.
The right here and the now.

What did you find?

I didn't find anything.

What? What do you mean
you didn't find anything?

After all I went through?

And you inside there
dropping more stuff

than DiMaggio did
in his entire career.

You wouldn't be holding
back on me, would you?

Me? Luther.

All right. All right.

The scrounges who killed
that frog are gonna pay.

Even if I have to do it
without your help.

I'll let you know
if I find anything.

Nice try, though.
And I'd watch the booze.

It ain't that bad.

Magnum!

Magnum!

It actually got worse.
Between Luther and Tracy,

then Gordon wanting to know
what games Luther was playing,

and finally, Ray Lemon,
the hotel dick,

again warning me
to stay out of his way,

there was more traffic
in my room

than on Kuhio Avenue
on a Saturday night.

But there was another reason
for leaving my hotel room.

A better reason.

It had to do with
comforting a friend.

A friend who'd lost someone she'd
become seriously involved with.

And that was
at least as important

as finding out what clues Fornier's
little black book might hold.

Oh, Thomas.

This was written last night.

"For your accolades
should be reserved

"for the gentleman
seated here on the dais..."

It was his
presentation speech.

He certainly did write a
lot of nice things about you.

Carol, I'm sorry if this
is too painful for you.

What was that reference
to your singing about?

I think you better
let me see that.

Wait! Listen.

"I know everything,
yet I know nothing.

"And whether to tell Monsieur
Misty about it is the question.

"Perhaps it is yet too early,

"but the fruit of the lemon

"is beginning to leave a bitter
after-taste in the palate.

"More later."

Who is Monsieur Misty?

Ray Lemon.
What?

"The fruit of the lemon

"is beginning to leave a
bitter aftertaste in the palate"

I think he's talking about Ray Lemon,
the hotel detective at the Royal Surf.

Oh, that's an awfully
big reach, Thomas.

No, but maybe not, Carol.

I mean, Jean Claude
wasn't the kind of guy

who'd come all the way from
France just to give me an award.

You're worrying about your
award at a time like this?

Oh, no, no, no!
I'm not! I'm not!

I mean, that's not important
now. It's just that...

Carol, I mean, Jean Claude and
I didn't always see eye to eye.

Why would he, of all people, come
all that way to give you the award?

Exactly.
Unless he was on a case.

Tracking down Monsieur Misty,
who you think is Ray Lemon.

No, I'm Monsieur Misty.

What?

This is stupid.

Well, on the Dubray case, you know,
we went to this sing-along bar.

I kind of sang Misty.

Oh, Thomas.

What did he sing?

I don't know.
Sentimental Journey.

Our song!

Oh, Thomas...

Oh, no, Carol, I'm sorry.

Look, don't do that.
It's okay.

He'd want you to go on.

Okay.

Okay.

I'll be waiting up for heaven

Counting every mile
of railroad track

He'd want you to go on.

Okay.

So, could you put your computer on overtime?

You know, any name.

A dry cleaners, a clerk at a flower
shop that could mean something...

How did you know
that he sent me flowers?

I don't know.
He was that kind of guy.

Oh, Thomas...

Oh, no, Carol, now don't do
that. It's okay, it's okay.

Oh, it's okay.
Don't do that.

Stay down.
No problem.

Hey, it's me.

Sorry to barge in like this,
but some wimp just shot me.

What's the prognosis,
Doctor?

He'll live.

Any lasting
repercussions?

I think the javelin throw
is out for the time being.

Can he talk now?

Oh, he can talk all right.

As a matter of fact, he hasn't quit
talking since we brought him in here.

Great.

I'll check in
on him later.

This isn't going to work.

Of course it will. It always
has for you in the past.

Yes, but in the past, there was a
certain basic level of intelligence.

Whereas here...

It's okay, Chuckie.

We'll find the guys
who did this to you.

Oh, no. Not again.

Who's Chuckie?
Come on, Higgins.

This could be our only chance to
find out who was shooting at him.

Who's Chuckie?

Very well.

Keep your eyes on the watch.

I got my own watch, Chuckie.

Would you tell me
who Chuckie is?

You're getting sleepy.

You will remember
everything you saw last night.

Blanche.

Who's Blanche?
Will you be quiet? Please.

Higgins, it's working.

Perhaps I overestimated
the requirements.

Will you ask him
about the car?

Try to visualize last night.

You were following Magnum.

Magnum. Oh, yeah.
Too bad about his award.

I wish everyone would
forget about that award.

It's just
a silly piece of metal.

Steuben glass.

I saw it
in Richard Lindley's office.

Etched on the base.

Can we get back to the car?

Uh, just a minute, Carol.
Car?

Uh, wait a minute, Luther.

What was etched
on the award?

I thought
you didn't care about it.

I don't. But...

Perhaps they could present it at Jean
Claude's grave site right after the eulogy.

Try to see the car
that was following Magnum.

It's all coming back to me
now, Chuckie.

Two-tone blue,
four-door sedan.

Lemon?

No, it was
a pretty good car.

Thanks, Higgins.
You did it.

Come here.

You take the diary,
get on the computer.

On the count of three
you will wake up.

And what about you?
One...

I got to pick something up
at the estate

and then I'm gonna stay on
him for as long as it takes.

If Jean Claude was right,

Lemon is gonna slip up somewhere along
the way and I'm going to be there.

Oh, Thomas...
Two...

Jonathan, Thomas,
I can't thank you enough

for everything that you're
doing for Jean Claude.

One question?
Three.

Who's Chuckie?

Only the best ex-partner
a guy ever had.

God rest his soul.

What are you guys
doing here?

Leaving.

This is the first hospital room I ever
stayed in that had it's own butler.

I know what you're
thinking, and you're right.

Maybe I hadn't been
completely honest with myself.

Maybe I did kind of
want that award.

I mean, to be recognized
by your peers,

I guess that meant something
to me after all.

But I knew I had to put that
behind me and just do my work.

Which tonight meant watching
Ray Lemon make his rounds,

questioning people
about Jean Claude.

Just another private
investigator doing his job.

Except whatever job he was
doing at this time of night,

he was doing in the car that was
driven by the guy that shot Luther.

I guess
that's called moonlighting.

Okay, boys, freeze! The
banana train gets off here!

Luther! Luther!

I bet you're glad
to see me!

No!
What? What an ingrate!

Ingrate! You're the one
who screwed everything up!

Me? Me?
I was saving you!

You are not!

I am too!

I'm out of here.

I would've at least gotten
the license plate number.

I can't believe you just went
out there and didn't even tell me.

Didn't you get a good look
at the guy's face?

No, I...

What was
the make of the car?

It was dark, I...

You know, Tom, you're not exactly
contributing your fair share here.

Me? Me? I'm the only one
doing anything!

Well, it doesn't seem to me
like you're doing very much.

It's you guys who are making
a shambles of this case.

All you really care about are
your stupid little fantasies

about being
private investigators.

You don't give a damn about
who gets hurt or killed.

And you should
know better, Luther.

All your years
in the business,

you come busting into a discreet little
stake-out with both barrels blazing.

You could have
got yourself killed!

Or worse, me!

You see if I ever bail you
out of a jam again!

You don't have to! I don't
want you to! Just leave!

Ah, stuff it, scrungo!

No offense, Magnum, but,

gee, you've changed.

Tracy, it's 5:00
in the morning.

Well, that's no excuse for
being rude to your friends.

He's not my friends.

Well, no wonder,
the way you treat him.

You know, I'm not so sure you weren't
at our little party at Wahiawa.

I don't have to
tell you anything.

You want us out of your way,
I am out of your way.

I'm almost glad
you didn't get your award.

A P.I. Who can't even get
a license plate number!

Hello?
Carol.

Yeah, it's... I know
it's 5:30 in the morning.

I got a license number
on the car

belonging to the guy that the
hotel detective was meeting.

Oh, great.
Well, give it to me.

Mmm-hmm.

Okay, I'll go right in.
What are you gonna do?

Go check on a lemon.

Ray Lemon certainly
was keeping odd hours.

He wasn't in his quarters
or his office,

and I was beginning to wonder

whether because of the
evening's rather exciting events,

he'd decided to quit the mundane
tedium of being a hotel detective

and decided to go for shooting
people in the dead of night

as a full-time occupation.

At any rate,
at least I could ask.

Does the phrase "material
witness" mean anything to you?

No, but "sleep" does.

Well, there'll be plenty
of time for that, partner.

As a matter of fact, Ray Lemon's
gonna be sleeping a mighty long time.

You know, I thought after Ray
got himself kicked off the force

that he'd clean his act up.

You know anything about multiple gunshots
being fired last night near Wahiawa?

No.
Come on, Magnum.

If I answer that question,
will you answer one for me?

Okay, you first.

No, you first.

No. I'm a cop.

No, I'm an award-winning... Almost
award-winning private investigator

on a cold streak.
Humor me, huh?

Okay.

What division of the S�ret�
was Jean Claude assigned to?

International
Narcotic Smuggling.

I knew it.

You know anything about multiple gunshots
being fired last night near Wahiawa?

Yes.
I knew it!

I knew they'd been fired
because you told me.

And I know you wouldn't have told me
unless, in fact, they'd been fired.

Other than that,
I know nothing.

Except for the fact that if I hear
something, I'll certainly let you know.

In the meantime,
I'm long overdue for a nap.

Listen, Thomas.
The car from last night,

the guy
that Lemon was meeting,

well, it was a rental.

Great. A name?

I'm afraid we've reached
a dead end, Thomas.

It was rented to a woman.
Somebody named Tracy Spencer.

It had to have been
lack of sleep.

That's the only thing that would
have made me leap to the conclusion

that Tracy Spencer,

ex-meter maid,
ex-police detective,

aspiring private investigator,

and 24-hour accident,

could possibly have been
involved in a drug ring

being investigated by the great
Jean Claude Fornier himself.

On the other hand,

sometimes lack of sleep can
make you acutely insightful.

I knew I had two choices.

Go get some sleep, or find out
exactly what Tracy was up to.

Hold it, Tracy.

Let me count the felonies.

Magnum.

Hi.

What was in the package?

What package?

Tracy, you can talk to me
or you can talk to the police.

I don't have to
tell you anything.

I'm not talking
to you anymore.

Fine. Don't talk.

Just paw the ground or
something every time I'm right.

Like Trigger?
Very funny, Magnum.

No, Tracy,
nothing's funny at all.

Especially to Jean Claude.

You know, he was really here on
a drug smuggling investigation.

And the stuff was probably
coming in from the Far East,

but how do the dealers get it
past the DEA and the local police

when they've been cracking
down on them like crazy

the last couple of years?

Why not use the prestige
and good offices

of one of the country's
largest detective agencies?

They could get the stuff through
where it has to go, right?

I mean, Richard Lindley
probably realized

there's a lot more money
in distribution than divorce.

And maybe you did, too.

That's a lie!

Are we talking now?

What happened, Tracy, did
Jean Claude get close enough

to figuring it out that you had the
cook you just met with poison him?

Wrong! Wrong!
Wrong! Wrong!

Prove it!

I overheard Lindley on the
phone with this guy last night.

At first, the old super flash
was a little surprised,

but when I acted
all enthusiastic-like,

see, he agreed
to let me in on it.

You see?
I'm working undercover, too!

I was just gonna
get the goods on these guys

and just blow them
into the cops, see?

Get my own award.

Tracy, the shooting
in Wahiawa last night,

the license plate on the car
came back to you.

Lindley borrowed that car.
You gotta believe me.

I do.

You do?

I do. No one would come up with a lame
excuse like "Lindley borrowed the car"

unless it was true.

He said he had to meet somebody. Lemon.

No, it's a pretty good car.
Really.

Ray Lemon, the bad cop
turned house detective.

You know, he was probably
ripping Lindley off.

You just figured out a whole day's
investigative work on my part.

Oh, brother.

Tracy, would you consider
working together again?

Really?

Really.

Rick? T. C?
You both on? Good.

How would you like to
share part of my award?

Of course
I'm still gonna get it.

But that's not important
right now.

Oh, come on, guys. There's
nothing to this. Honest.

Hey, what's the matter
with you guys?

Your friend's in trouble.
Are you real men or what?

Hello, Luther. Yeah, I've been kind of
having second thoughts about stuff and...

Magnum.

Thomas Magnum.

Hello, can I speak to
Richard Lindley?

Tracy Spencer.

Hello, Dick?

We have a little problem.

Two minutes.

Hold it, you guys can't
park here. Nobody move!

Now, wait a minute, don't get
nervous. It's not what you think.

I think it's exactly what I think. Freeze.

But we...
Freeze!

Tracy.

Thanks for coming.

Well, what's
the big problem?

It's Chang,
he wants to renegotiate.

Why didn't he come to me?

I don't know.

I guess he just, you know,
like, wants to use me as

you know, like,
a middleperson or something.

Or maybe
you want to renegotiate.

Oh, no! No, no, no.

Chang said that, you know,

like he was just giving away
pure heroin to you

like he was in the charity
business or something.

Uh-huh.
What are we gonna do?

Well, we'll take care
of him.

We pay him good money
for that stuff. Good money.

Thanks a lot, Tracy.

I think you have a real
future in this company.

And I don't think
you've got any.

Everyone relax.
Nice going, Tracy.

Thanks.

Perhaps we could make a deal
for that recording?

It's still running, Lindley.

And you still have to
get it out of here.

Yeah, I guess so,
but unfortunately for you,

I... We've got
plenty of help.

Reach for the sky, mister.

Believe me, Officer, just
go down to the supply room...

Something must've
gone wrong.

So what do we do?

Duck!

That's what we've been
trying to tell you!

See?

Come on, the supply room.

Hello, Inspector.
How do you feel?

Oh, shucks, little lady.
It ain't nothing.

Just a flesh wound.

And Luther.

Mr. Gillis.

Thanks, Higgie.
Appreciate it.

Quite.

Can I sniff them?

Of course.

T.C.

I'd get up, but...

Don't you even try.

Rick.

Geez, I was kind of
hoping for chocolates.

I'll speak to the patient
across the hall.

Perhaps we can
arrange a trade.

And Tracy.

Congratulations.
Nice work.

Oh, yeah, I know.

And last...

But not least.

Higgins. Carol.

The police department
sent this over for you.

Apparently, they found it
in Lindley's room.

He was using it
to keep his window open.

That's it? My award!

Your award.

Not that it's important.

Gee...

I don't know what to say.

You could always start
with your acceptance speech.

Acceptance speech? I don't
really have an acceptance speech.

What?

Okay.

It all started...

This is silly.

It all started

in a tiny little town in
Virginia some 30 odd years ago.

And I have climbed,
steadfastly

and with great care,

to this pinnacle
of investigatory significance,

and now I hold in my hand,
finally, this cherished award...