Original subtitles

Namo Amitabha

Bye.

Mr. Tokura, would you kindly look this way? There are rumors Steve McGarrett's

going to produce a surprise witness against you. Any comment?

Any witness Mr. McGarrett and his state police unit produce will be against me.

Then you know about the surprise witness.

I know Mr.

McGarrett. What about the attorney general's charge that you're head of

organized crime in Hawaii?

I've been charged before.

Everything from...

Double parking to fixed cockfights. Well, we're all aware of that, sir, but

the question is... Then perhaps you are also aware of the fact that I am head of

Tokura Imports, a legitimate business.

Tokura Imports, period.

All hills broken loose.

Mr. Takura, what just happened here? Who did it?

Did what?

Please, gentlemen, please.

We mustn't keep the crime commission waiting.

Ladies and gentlemen, a most incredible series of events has just taken place in

this crowded courthouse. Mr. Takura, surrounded by his bodyguards, apparently

shot to death by an assassin.

The assassin shot down as he tried to escape, and Takura, all right.

You swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so

help you God. I do.

Mr. Tokuram, I should like to take the liberty of assuming that as an

intelligent and well-read man, one who has been a resident of these islands for

many years, you're not totally unaware of the reason why this hearing is being

held.

It is an investigation into the nature of and the...

personalities involved in the major areas of crime in our state of Hawaii.

We have some questions to propound to you, Mr. Tokoro, and we intend to get

the answers to them. Your compliance and cooperation would be most deeply

appreciated.

Mr. Tokoro, do you know a certain William Boroff, alias Willie

Brown? Alias respectfully refused to answer on the grounds of possible self

-incrimination. Mr. Tokura, may I finish, please?

I did not mean to interrupt counsel.

There are two more aliases, one of which just might ring a bell. I promise to

listen very carefully.

Alias Thomas Grable, alias William Rose.

Have you ever known anyone who... She was found on warning about a half an

hour ago. Sent for a doctor.

Mary?

You just relax. I'll ask for a postponement.

No, I've waited long enough.

I want to testify.

You sure?

I have to.

I have to.

I respectfully refuse to answer on the grounds of possible self-incrimination.

Senator Harada, at this time I would like to interrupt the questioning of Mr.

Tokoro in order to present to the commission a very important witness for

the state.

Very well, counsel.

Call your next witness.

The committee now calls Miss Mary Travers.

Is the witness present?

Is the witness Mary Travers present?

I promise I'll be all right.

You're a lot better than all right, lady.

Would you raise your right hand, please?

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so

help you God?

I do.

Full name, Mary Ellen Travis.

Yes.

From January 1967 through July 1967, will you tell us the name of your

employer?

From January...

Maybe it's just nerves.

Up to a few hours ago, she was fine.

Well, you were employed as a bookkeeper for Mr. Tokura, were you not?

I was employed. I worked for him.

Would you briefly outline your responsibilities?

My responsibilities?

Well, you were one of several bookkeepers and accountants, were you

not?

Yes.

And is it not true that the nature of Mr. Tokoda's bookkeeping system made it

impossible for any one bookkeeper to get a complete picture of his operation?

I am sorry.

For a period of time, you had absolutely no knowledge of the kinds of business

which your employer operated, did you?

No, I... I had no idea.

until one day, quite accidentally, you were handed a set of books, secret

books, which revealed your employer's interest in such things as narcotics,

prostitution, object.

Counsel will refrain from leading his witness.

Now, Miss Travis, will you kindly tell us in your own words what you believe to

be pertinent to this investigation?

Suppose we start morning.

April 7th, 1967.

I'm sorry. When you reported for work the morning of April 3rd, 1967.

I'm sorry.

You'll have to excuse me.

How do they do it? How do I know? Well, you should know you're a cop.

It was your job to protect her, to keep her alive. Your job. I put you in

charge. You want me to say I blew it? All right, I blew it. I blew it!

Look, Steve, I was with her every second. And when I wasn't there, Chin Ho

or Kono was.

Nothing, nobody got close to her. The food she ate, one of us tasted it first.

If she wanted a candy bar out of a machine, I took the first bite.

I think I got something, Steve.

Go. The guy who hit Takura yesterday, Japanese passport issued last week.

Gives his occupation as a factory foreman.

We checked it out with the Tokyo police.

Factory foreman comes 3,000 miles to kill Takura? Why?

What else?

Got here yesterday on flight 906 from Japan.

Went right to the courthouse. Didn't even bother to check into a hotel.

Ah, doesn't figure.

Let's do a rundown in front of Cora, huh?

Go ahead, Dano.

Born stateside, San Francisco.

Family. One daughter living in Honolulu. Strictly jet set. Wife, deceased.

Any link to Japan?

Nothing.

Now, an attempted murder and then a murder.

Any connection?

No openers. All Doc's been able to give us is her heart stopped beating.

We don't even know for certain it was murder. She was murdered.

What do you got? A big fat goose egg.

The lad came up clean. No prints?

Nothing. However, we do have here one Japanese number.

Eight millimeter.

Common.

One knife.

Not common at all.

Also Japanese.

batch, boss.

Report from HPD. A broad daylight hit on P.E. Coy.

Professionals with shotguns. Killed two enforcers. According to your report,

practically cut him in half.

Coy didn't wait very long, did he?

Nope. You want us to roust him?

Not yet. We gotta prove it.

Let me try something.

About E-5-0.

One moment, please.

It's the man.

Governor?

Yes, sir.

He's on my way.

These depositions you've got just...

Go

right in, McGarrett.

He's waiting for you.

Thanks, Millie.

Sit down, Steve.

There's terrible violence in our land.

In our state.

It has to be stopped.

The hit on Pequoy?

Yes.

Your sources are fast and accurate.

Not too much happens around here that I don't know about.

I believe it.

Takura? Well, sir, I don't like to prejudge a man, but that's the way we

figure it.

Can you prove it?

The way Takura operates?

Not a chance.

What happened, Steve?

You had a witness.

An airtight case.

How did he get off the hook?

Well, give me a couple of days and I'll let you know. I don't know now, sir.

Precisely what the Attorney General said.

I told him that's not good enough. Now I'm telling you that's not good enough,

Steve.

Steve, you and Five-O have done a superb job for this state.

And I'm on record. One of the smartest moves I've made during my tenure as

governor is to select you as head of our state police unit.

But this violence, this killing, must be stopped.

Tokura has to be brought to justice. It has to be done.

Yes, sir.

Please keep me informed.

Very well, sir.

Steve.

Open.

You made one big fat mistake, Takura.

Your muscle wiped out the wrong heavies.

A rather puzzling observation, Mr. McGarrett.

Those two gambling goons your boys knocked off, they didn't write the

contract on you outside the hearing room.

This was responsible.

Samurai. Ancient order of Japanese knighthood.

Fanatic principles of honor.

A coat of Bushido.

Very enlightening, but... May I ask what this has to do with me, Mr. McGarrett?

We found this on the guy who ventilated your suit.

Take a look.

Nice slender blade.

Makes it easy for a Bushido to gut himself when he fails on a mission.

You know, honorable tradition.

Then another Bushido comes.

And another, and another.

Till a mission's accomplished.

Always is.

Level with me, Takura.

Why are they after you?

I'm the only one who can help you.

How touching.

I am sure you stay up nights finding new ways to help me.

Yeah, I'll help you right into Oahu prison.

But in order to get you there, I've got to keep you alive.

To get me there, my Garrett, you have to dig up, so to speak, another witness.

By the way, how did the poor girl die?

It was murder.

Poison. Well, in your custody?

Why, that is absolutely shocking.

Nobody said anything about poison.

You did say she was murdered.

And since I heard no shots, saw no knife wounds, I assume poor Miss Travis had

been poisoned.

Clever.

But here I am helping you, and you came here to help me.

How would you keep me alive?

Mr. McGarrett.

We're state police.

Five-0 operate with the local police units on all seven islands.

We can seal airports, harbors.

We can make certain that no more of those hatchet men set foot in Hawaii.

Key men reassigned.

Thousands of dollars spent and all for me.

How very generous of you, Mr. McGarrett.

I'm always generous.

Especially to people who volunteer information.

Such as?

Narcotics, gambling, prostitution.

The book.

By the way, Takora, what goes for you in Japan?

Very well, Mr. McGarrett.

About Japan.

Quite recently, I saw an excellent Fu Manchu movie.

It's Chinese, no?

So it is.

Wrong again.

And if you have paid more than 2.95 for that poor imitation samurai knife, you

were shamelessly cheated.

I suggest you call the police.

Ah.

Just give me the punchline, Papa-san.

My most exquisite daughter, may I present Mr. Steve McGarrett, illustrious

head of 5.0, and one of the great unsung comics of our time.

My daughter, Didi.

If you have pressing affairs elsewhere, Mr. McGarrett, we will quite understand.

Matter of fact, I have. I'm about to order a medal.

Then Exposito comes to chop you down.

McGarrett. Crystals? Gold.

Poison?

Clavercop. I can't believe it. We were with her every minute, every drop of

water, every bite of food she had. The murder weapon.

Mary Travers' lipstick.

Tasteless, odorless, deadly.

Tridectine? Newer. Proc-9 derivative.

No known antidote.

And do you know where we got Mary Travers' cosmetics?

In her desk in Takura's office.

This figures.

I offered Takura a deal.

Price just went up. Now it's murder.

How? So far we haven't been able to make a traffic ticket stick. First degree

murder, I promise you. Thanks, Doc.

Okay, Takora.

You hollered cop.

What do you want?

I made him call you, Mr. McGarrett.

Made him.

I said if he didn't ask for police protection... Don't, Didi, don't.

I'd shoot him myself and end the waiting.

Or, now that you're here, why don't you shoot him?

Don't, baby, don't.

Mr. McGarrett couldn't make his case in court.

So he's going to stand around with his hands in his pockets until they get

Tokula.

Guilty or innocent, this upright lawman couldn't care less.

Look, spare me, huh? Spare me, Takura.

By the way, I should thank you for helping us solve the Mary Travis murder.

She was poisoned, just as you guessed.

Somebody planted it in her lipstick.

One we found at her desk in your office.

Would have killed her instantly, any time.

Only she never used the lipstick till the day of the hearing.

Another case you can't prove in court, Mr. McGarrett.

We'll prove it. Then you'll have to keep him alive, won't you?

Why don't you get some sun?

You've been looking rather pale these days.

Why does the Bushido want you dead?

I have never known El Bushido. I have never done anything to offend the

Japanese. You're wasting my time, Takura.

Mr. McGarrett!

I swear to you that I am telling the truth.

All right, we'll find out.

Born in San Francisco, right?

On Fillmore Street.

Came to Hawaii when?

1939.

Almost two years to the day before Pearl Harbor.

What did you do when you got here?

I worked, Mr. McGarrett, 12, 13 hours a day in the sugar fields.

Then came the war.

And the order that all Japanese were to be interned.

It didn't matter that you were American born and bred.

After Pearl Harbor, you were a Jap.

An army truck came to pick me up at the farmhouse where I had a room.

And I jumped out a window in back of the house.

And ran cross-country through the fields. Two soldiers running after me.

I got away.

To where?

A point near Coco Head.

I waited until dark. Then I stole a boat and slipped through the Navy patrol to

Molokai.

Big caves in that island.

Lots of pineapple.

Plenty of fish in the water.

And after the war, you went into business.

Takura Imports.

Dealers in refugees, women, drugs, and gambling.

You never give up, do you?

Never.

Any of your various business enterprises take you to Japan?

No. Look, you level with me, Takura.

I swear to you that I have never been in Japan in my life.

Stay down.

You go that way, you go that way.

Down.

Get behind that wall.

Get up the hill, both of you. Go.

Easy.

Finished. Ain't pretty.

Shotgun looking down this throat.

Didn't figure to be pretty.

Any prints?

Got whatever there was.

Okay, load them up.

Airport and harbor sealed. Nobody gets off the rock without our getting a close

look. Did you check Tokura's story? Born in San Francisco. He came to Hawaii in

39, just like he said. What about internment records?

None.

How about trips to Japan?

Checked with State Department and with Immigration.

Tokura's never been outside the U.S.

Check, check and double check. Yet the Bushido put him on their death list.

Why?

You.

I want Takura's mugshots and prints telephoted to Tokyo police and sent us

up to the FBI.

Ask them to check for Nellie's.

What do you got, Steve?

Punch? Come on, give.

All right.

Takura alive.

His ring fits so tight he can't even twist it.

Takura dead.

They move the body and it slides off.

May, what's the biggest coffee pot they got in the building? 22 cups. Steal it.

But it's in the governor's office.

Thanks.

$4.95.

What's that?

This girl I met from Cleveland.

Kumu.

Really nice.

Just one catch.

Always is.

She wants me to teach her to hula.

McGarrett.

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah, okay.

Thank you.

FBI. They've checked through to Washington. Nothing.

No alias, nothing.

Now it's up to Tokyo.

So I give her lesson number one. If she says it's not realistic, brother, next

time put on a hula skirt.

Like it's hanging next to the cashmere jacket.

So where do I get a hula skirt?

I head down for Kalakaua Avenue.

Pick one up for $4.95.

I hope there's a punchline.

$4.95 like for a hunk of plastic made in Hong Kong?

Mr. McGarrett.

Mr. McGarrett.

Cablegram. Tokyo Police.

Thanks, Meg.

Photos and fingerprints sent this office under the name Takura.

Identification made positive.

Name of subject, S. Yamashito.

Lieutenant, Imperial Navy. Served on board Kamikaze submarine Pearl Harbor,

1942.

Killed in action.

Yes, sir.

Still Goldberg here, Chief.

Come down to reenlist again, huh, Commander?

With that honey budge, shall you, sir?

Not a chance.

Have some diesel oil.

Thanks.

You were here during the hit on Pearl in 41, huh?

You know it.

Remember those two men subs, those midgets? They tried to sneak through the

nets of Pearl?

Suicide subs, sure.

Small enough to get through the nets, enough firepower to sink a destroyer.

How many torpedoes they carry? Two. With a point-black range you could miss.

Remember one that was raised off Molokai a couple years ago?

Wire services and magazines played it up big?

Remember it very well.

You know, the torpedoes in that baby were never fired.

How come?

I think we found the answer in the chart room.

A skeleton with its head bashed in.

Collision? Could be, but I've always doubted it.

You see, there was only one skeleton, Commander, and those were two-man

submarines.

Thanks, Chief.

Still hasn't changed.

Sit down.

This is going to come as a shock.

What I'm going to say may seem impossible, but I want you to hear it

anyway because I'm 99% sure that I'm right.

Yes?

I think your father's still alive, Dee Dee.

Alive?

That's what I think.

But how?

We saw... We saw a man killed in your father's house.

Face blown apart.

It was your father's build. He wore your father's clothes. Only one thing didn't

fit. Not even close.

His ring.

Dee Dee, you don't even know your father's real name.

He was a Japanese naval officer.

He abandoned his submarine during the war.

Lived in a cave on Molokai.

Sounds like a nightmare.

We think he found somebody else in that cave, a young Japanese-American, hiding

from U.S. internment.

The real Takura.

What happened to him is anybody's guess, but this much we know.

You know?

Yeah.

After the war, your father came back to Honolulu and assumed Takura's name and

identity.

He went into business, married your mother, then some scuba divers found a

submarine.

He was raised.

An international magazine did a story on it.

The Bushido picked it up, figured out what happened.

Even after all that time?

Peter, your father knew there was only one way to escape.

Make them think he was already dead, but he needed a witness for that.

A reliable witness.

One who could testify he saw your father dead.

Who better than me had a 5-0? I was his pigeon.

And somebody who looked like your father.

Somebody whose name we may never know was murdered right over there.

No.

That's why he changed his will at the last minute. Left instructions to be

cremated immediately.

You're sick, Mr. McGarrett. You'll mourn for a couple of weeks, then you'll go to

Europe to forget.

To help two or three million dollars until he's ready to turn up and take it

away from you.

My father loved me.

Sure he did.

But he loved himself more.

Whatever. My father would never hurt me.

Never. Not for all the money in the world.

How much would you bet on that, Dee Dee?

What do you mean?

Would you bet a million dollars that I'm wrong about your father?

Yes.

Yes, Mr.

McGarrett, yes.

Thank you for coming.

I'm certain you all know Ms. Tokura.

I call this press conference because she has a statement to make that's of great

import to the university.

Ms. Tokura?

I know that giving money is not the best way to right a wrong, but wrongs have

been done.

At the moment, money is all I have to give toward righting them, and so I will

start by donating in the memory of my father, Leonard Tokura.

The sum of one million dollars to the university.

My father is dead.

There are things I've just learned about him.

Things that I want to make up for.

My money's in the pot, Mr. McGarrett.

Now what?

We wait.

Hi, boss.

Hi, Gin.

Left to have her hair done.

Said she'd be home by eight if you need her.

Thank you.

Come in when you get a chance, huh?

Steven guard 5-0. Get me mobile unit 3, will you please?

Yeah, right away.

Tano?

Anything? Not a thing, Steve.

I've hit the shops on Kalakaua Avenue.

Took a little spin on Pobiscus Drive.

Right now it looks like a two-hour wait outside the Japanese theater on Mauna

Kea. Why don't you get one of the HPD boys to spell you for a while?

I may do that.

Probably grab a bite and head for the jail.

See if they picked up anybody interesting in that narco raid on Hotel

Street. Give me a call when you're through. I'll pick you up at the theater

or HPD.

Right.

How do you figure the odds on your Tokura bet?

I'll let you know.

Only one thing worries me.

What's that?

Bushido. What about him?

Well, I don't know very much about this Samurai Jazz, but if Tukura is dead,

there's one member of his family who ain't.

You think they might hit the girl?

Like I said, I don't know about those kooks.

Just thinking, that's all.

We got a 24-hour guard on her, haven't we?

We also had a 24-hour guard marry Travis.

McGarrett, on my way.

Don't be afraid.

I am not a ghost.

I had meant to reveal myself to you in a less traumatic way.

A letter from a mutual friend containing certain hints, next a visit

from an emissary.

Those were my plans.

I am deeply sorry.

I saw you on television.

The gift to the college.

Most generous.

Most foolish.

But of course you thought I was dead.

You let me think it.

The check.

Was it certified?

If not, we still have time to stop at Monday morning.

Well, was it?

Was it certified or not?

How could you?

I said I was sorry.

For days, days you let me think you were dead.

It was the only way that I could live.

Now, the check.

Was it certified or not?

It was not.

I'll be leaving in a moment. Here is what you must do.

On Monday morning, stop the check.

Then buy a ticket to Geneva on the first flight.

When you get there, go to the Swiss hotel and register under the name of

Goro.

Remember, Goro.

I'll contact you there.

No, Dad.

Didi, there is no time to waste.

I'm not holding you here.

gotten into you.

The truth, Father, may be just a very small hunk of it, but enough to...

Who told you?

I needn't ask Mr.

McGarrett.

It was Mr.

McGarrett, wasn't it?

He showed me how to have peace of mind for only a million dollars.

It was his idea.

His idea.

A trap for me.

You helped him lay a trap for me. You're hurting me.

I did it for you.

I wish you'd had at least enough dignity not to cop that, please.

Did he?

Don't say anything else.

Looks like Takora lost his bet.

Not by much.

All we could get him for was a legal entry.

So far.

She's not coming, Takora.

She will.

She will.

No matter how you've tried to poison her mind against me, she will say goodbye.

I got a present for you.

I am touched.

A going away present.

Might be a fan from Hong Kong and appreciation of all you've done for

these people.

Or a tiki god carved of Hawaiian koa.

Gesture of thanks for your contributions to these islands.

Might even be a samurai knight.

Aloha, baby.

Bushido. Bushido. Yeah, and another and another and another. Give me a break.

Sure, same break you gave Mary Travis, huh? You can't let... You want to make a

bet?

All right.

All right, anything you want.

The books, the entire operation.

No deal. The price went up. Now it's murder.

No capital punishment in Hawaii.

All they can do is put you away for life.

As I said, aloha.

I killed her!

I got it!

I killed Mary Travis!

Get em boys

Beautiful

snooker

Remind me never to bet against you Confession is good for the soul