Original subtitles

By

by

Gordon?

By

May I help you?

I'd like to see Mr. Mannix.

Can I tell him who's calling?

Joe, a Miss Linley to see you.

Oh, uh, please, come in, Miss Linley.

Sit down.

Thank you.

Uh, what can I do for you?

I'd like you to find a man named Gordon Cameron.

This Gordon Cameron?

Suspected of murdering Mrs. Olson

and getting away with $100,000 in jewelry?

He didn't do it, Mr. Mannix.

You mean the police are looking for the wrong man?

He wasn't there when Mr. Olson came home?

He may have been at the house, but not to rob or kill anyone.

Oh.

Why do you think he ran?

I don't know.

Miss Linley, uh,

just what is your interest in Gordon Cameron?

You might say this is personal.

I see.

Then I can understand your faith in him.

But there's really nothing I can do.

I'm sorry.

Please, Mr. Mannix.

Wherever Gordon is, he's... he's alone.

I have to do something.

Joe, maybe you could... Peggy--

There is nothing I can do to help,

unless he's arrested or gives himself up.

Yeah...

Now, maybe if, uh, you give me

something to work on-- anything.

For instance, uh, what was he doing at the house?

I just don't know.

All I know is that Gordon would never kill anyone.

There has to be some other explanation.

Please, Mr. Mannix,

find out what really happened last night.

Regardless of what I find?

You know, if I dig up evidence to nail down his guilt,

I've got to turn it over to the police.

Regardless of what you find.

Al right.

I still can't understand it.

Of all the people I've ever known,

Gordon was the last person...

How long had he worked here at Viking Electronics?

Oh, about five months.

Satisfactory?

He had a natural aptitude for electronics.

He could have gone right to the top-- here or anywhere.

And as far as you know, he had no criminal record?

Personnel made the usual

security check before hiring him.

They found nothing.

Had he ever been to your home before?

Just once.

Or perhaps twice.

My wife likes to...

She, um... used to invite the staff

for a cocktail party on special occasions.

But, uh, Cameron wasn't invited last night?

No.

Mr. Olson, have you any idea what happened?

Well, I have to go along with the police.

They think he got a key to the house somehow.

While he was taking the jewels out of the safe,

Myra must have come downstairs.

When she recognized him,

he had to kill her.

I... I imagine that she tried to run outside.

I'm... I'm sorry, Mr. Mannix.

I shouldn't be here this morning.

I know I'm not making any sense,

but I... I just couldn't face that house.

I, uh, wonder if I might have a look

at Cameron's security file.

Yes, certainly.

Aileen.

Show Mr. Mannix Gordon Cameron's file, please.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Mr. Olson.

Something wrong?

It's gone.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Who else has access to these files?

I'm the only one, really.

The security office has duplicate keys, I suppose.

Are they, uh, normally kept locked?

Only at night when I leave.

He certainly covered his tracks, didn't he?

We don't know that he took the file.

What are you hoping to do, Mr. Mannix--

Prove that Gordon Cameron didn't kill Mrs. Olson?

You want him convicted, even if he's innocent?

If he didn't do it, why did he run away?

That's a question everybody seems to be asking.

Thanks.

By

No photos, huh?

Not one. How about prints?

Plenty of those-- and at the Olson house, too.

Did you run a check on them?

Yeah, nothing in our files.

I sent them in to the CID in Sacramento.

Did, uh, he come back here last night?

Well, if he did, nobody saw him.

What about his car?

We got a description. No luck yet.

You know, this guy lived like a monk.

Yeah, or somebody who hadn't planned

on being around too long.

You, uh, just browsing, Joe,

or did you find something you'd like to buy?

Oh, uh, Gordon Cameron's girlfriend

doesn't seem to think he did it.

Did you expect her to?

Come on, Joe, this one's open and shut.

We'll pick this guy up before the day's over

in some backwoods motel.

Maybe we find the jewels; more likely we won't.

Yeah, but why, Dan?

He had a good job, a girlfriend, a future.

A $100,000 future, Joe?

Yeah.

By

Crazy fool could've killed you!

Yeah, thanks, huh?

You, uh, debt collecting?

No.

Bail bondsman.

No. Why? Should I be?

Well, looked like that creep was trying to hit you.

Why would he do a thing like that?

You want me to find out?

I got his license number?

Come on, let's, uh... let's talk about it over a cup of coffee.

Uh, no, thanks. Maybe some other time, huh?

Yeah, sure.

Uh, here's my card.

Uh... call me.

Jerry Vane, private investigator.

One of the best, if I say so myself.

What's your name?

Mannix.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Man...

Joe Mannix?

First whiff of a job I get all month,

and it turns out to be Mr. Private Peeper himself.

Now, look, uh...

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Please, please, I wouldn't hear of it.

Uh, consider it, uh, professional courtesy.

You know, one... one pro to another.

Thanks.

I mean it.

If anybody's going to turn up Gordon Cameron...

you're the guy, Mannix.

Hop in. Let's have that cup of coffee.

What gave you the idea I was looking for Cameron?

It's nothing to be ashamed of.

That 20 grand reward Viking Electronics has announced

is enough to get even you off your mink-lined sofa.

Are you, uh, looking for Cameron, too?

You kidding?

I've been bearing down on this

ever since the first flash came over the radio.

Getting anywhere?

Eh, nowhere.

I could sure use that reward.

Things have been rough, huh?

Rough? Oh...

I tell you, this new divorce law is killing me.

Listen, I used to be top dog in my field-- uh, surveillance.

You know, keeping an eye on the love nest

and all that sort of thing.

Now, who needs evidence?

Now I ask you, why would they pass a law

to drive a little guy out of business?

Hey, Mannix.

Why don't we team up on this, uh, Cameron thing, huh?

We could split the reward, 50-50.

Sorry.

60-40?

Now look, I'm really grateful for what you did,

and if there's any way I can help...

Well...

just don't look over your shoulder on this thing.

That'll be me, yapping at your heels.

Who knows,

maybe a crumb will fall off the table, huh?

Fair enough.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Peggy.

Oh, hi, Joe.

Check out a station wagon, brown and white,

with the license number 616-BEL..

Anything wrong?

Well, he was aiming at me. I'd like to know why.

Right.

Oh, Peggy.

Get me Sheila Linley's address, too, huh?

Just a second.

Ah. Here we are.

Just a minute!

Miss Linley... may I come in?

Of course.

Do you have any news of Gordon?

No. How about you? No.

Look, uh, I'm sure the police have a court order

to put a tap on your phone.

Now, if he has called,

they'll know it, and you could be in trouble.

He hasn't phoned me.

Yeah. Maybe the idea of a phone tap occurred to him, too.

You know, he's a puzzle, this Gordon Cameron.

There seems to be two of him.

One of them is likable, good at his job, well educated.

And the other, uh...

can elude the police, bury his car,

and, suddenly, you have the picture of a faceless man.

Faceless?

In more ways than one.

His file at Viking Electronics has disappeared.

The police can't seem to get their hands on a picture of him.

There isn't even a record of his driver's license at the DMV.

Now, I was wondering if you had a picture of him.

A snapshot would be fine.

Oh. I'm sorry, I don't have one.

Did he say where he worked before Viking?

They may still have a file on him.

I don't know; he never mentioned it to me.

Well, did he mention where he went to school?

Or college?

Even a class picture would be something.

I'm sorry I can't help you.

You know, you're becoming

a bit of a puzzle yourself, Miss Linley.

A man you say you're in love with...

you don't know where he worked last, or what school he went to.

You don't even have a picture of him.

Maybe you want him to remain faceless, is that it?

I'm sorry, Miss Linley.

Maybe it'd be better all around

if we just let the police take care of it.

Mr. Mannix...

I didn't tell you everything this morning.

Just what did you leave out?

I still believe that Gordon's innocent, but...

well, he never talked about himself.

Or his background, or even his family.

And I accepted that.

But I always wanted a picture of him, and he...

always put it off for some reason or another.

Then, one day, we were at the marina,

and I took a snapshot of him

when he didn't expect it.

He didn't say anything,

just laughed,

and said that he'd drop it off at the drugstore.

Then when I went to pick it up,

it was blank.

They said that the whole roll had been exposed to the light.

Did you, uh, ask Gordon about it?

No.

I couldn't.

It would be like accusing him.

But that's only part of it.

This came today.

What does it mean?

It's a, uh, Post Office Box number.

$10,000 in U.S. currency,

high-denomination Swiss,

British, German banknotes.

.38 caliber revolver,

a newspaper clipping, and a Canadian passport,

issued in Montreal to a... William George Bailey.

Is that the man you know as Gordon Cameron?

You still believe in him, Miss Linley?

I don't care what it looks like, Gordon isn't a murderer.

This clipping is from the Ashton Tribune--

That's a college town up the coast.

"Man killed at Pike Point.

"Coast Guard and local fishermen were alerted by Sheriff Gary

"to watch for the body of Whitfield Summers, 25,

"believed killed yesterday when his car went off the road

"at Pike Point, and plunged 60 feet to the rocks below.

"His landlady, Mrs. Bunny Mason,

"formerly of the Golden Girls piano duo,

said he was a quiet man who appeared to have no friends."”

Can you think of any reason why he'd keep this clipping?

No.

Did he ever mention anybody by the name of Whitfield Summers?

No.

Peggy, uh...

get all this stuff downtown to Lieutenant Ives, huh?

I'll give him this passport when I get back.

Where are you going?

To Ashton, to see a former Golden Girl.

Mrs. Mason?

I did ring. Twice.

Oh. Well, I have a single on the back for $65 a month,

and I have a bachelor on the alley for $45.

I'm not looking for an apartment, Mrs. Mason.

Oh.

Vacuum cleaners... insurance...

magazine subscriptions.

I'm a private investigator.

Oh, from Los Angeles!

Oh, boy, that's a real town.

I just love L.A. to death.

Join me?

Uh, not before noon, thank you.

Oh, uh... just a freshener.

Good tastes in musical talent are bound to come back

one of these days-- don't you think so, doll?

That's why I'm practicing again.

Well, I'd, uh, say that's pretty good timing.

Mrs. Mason... Bunny.

Bunny.

A young man by the name of Whitfield Summers

used to live here.

Yes, he was in 3B-- a very nice young man.

No trouble at all.

He got killed. Did you know?

Uh, you told the reporters

that he didn't seem to have many friends.

I was wondering if, by any chance,

you ever saw him with this man?

Are you kidding me?

About what?

That's Whitfield Summers.

The dead man?

Are you sure?

Sure I'm sure.

What's his face doing on another man's passport?

That's a good question.

Say, how does it happen so many people are interested

in him after he's dead?

What people? Well, there was an uncle

showed up a few days after the accident.

Then a few weeks later, there was a girl.

Uh, you wouldn't happen to remember the date

the girl was here?

Would I remember?

Oh! I remember the day, and the hour.

It was my birthday,

and she barged in while I was listening to Phil Pfeiffer.

He's our local DJ, you know.

And he dedicated a record to little old me!

Bunny...

The date?

Oh, February 9.

I'm Aquarius.

Uh, did you get her name?

Well, if I did, I've forgotten it.

She said she was his cousin.

What did this cousin look like?

She wore sunglasses, was a brunette,

and had long hair down to here,

and a skirt up to here.

Mm.

Well, thanks for your help.

By

Mr. Mannix for Professor Thompson.

Thank you.

I'm George Henderson, uh... Mr. Mannix.

I'm Professor Thompson's assistant.

I'm afraid he's busy just now.

He's in the middle of a very involved experiment.

Well, he wasn't busy when I called ten minutes ago.

Well, there was a sudden complication that we couldn't

possibly have anticipated.

It could take some time to straighten it out.

I can wait.

Unfortunately, his whole schedule is shot for today.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Or could I help you?

Well, how long ago did you come to Ashton, Mr. Henderson?

Five months ago.

Was that before or after Whitfield Summers was killed?

If you mean the young man who ran his car off the road...

after, by a week or two.

Then you can't help.

In that case, Mr. Mannix,

give this to the guard at the door.

It's red tape, but we're on a government contract.

Professor Thompson?

Oh, you must be Mr. Mannix.

Professor, I've suggested that Mr. Mannix come back tomorrow.

It's all right, Henderson.

Come in, come in.

Somehow I got the impression

I wasn't wanted in here, Professor.

Don't mind Henderson.

It's his job to spare me from interruptions.

Now, what can I do for you?

Professor, do you know this man?

I did know him, but he's dead, poor fellow.

You knew him as Whitfield Summers?

Wasn't that his name?

It seems he had several names.

Can you tell me what he did here?

Well, we're developing special electronic techniques

for satellite control.

He was very valuable to me, to the country.

Can you think of a reason why he should fake his own death?

Do you have proof that he did?

He's living in Los Angeles under another name.

I'm trying to find out why.

Well, I'm sorry, I can't help you.

Would you mind telling me what this is all about, Mr. Mannix?

A woman was found

in her swimming pool last night, choked to death.

The police think that she was killed

by the man you knew as Whitfield Summers.

That's absolutely impossible.

And why do you say that?

Well, when you've worked side by side with a man

month after month, sometimes around the clock,

wrestling with the same problems,

reaching for the same stars,

you get to know how a man's mind ticks,

what makes his heart beat.

And you most certainly know if he's incapable of murder,

no matter how great the provocation.

Yeah.

Have the Los Angeles police

turned up any prior record on this Cameron?

I don't recall having mentioned the name Cameron.

Unlike the professor, I read the morning paper,

from the front page headlines

to the last miscellaneous sale in the classifieds.

There was only one woman found dead in a pool in today's issue.

And the man the police are looking for is a Gordon Cameron.

Yeah.

Maybe tomorrow's issue will fill you in on his prior record.

Thank you, Professor, for your cooperation.

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

If you do find him, will you tell him

that I will do everything I can to help?

I'll do that.

Mr. Mannix...

Give this to the guard.

You gonna trust me to make it on my own?

I wonder how much he knows.

Here we go.

It's all in there, Mr. Mannix, what there is of it.

About 4:00 p.m., Whitfield Summers left the university

to drive his car back to his apartment.

At least, that's where he told one of the lab men he was going.

Instead, he turned south.

Now, witnesses said he was traveling

in excess of the speed limit, but not dangerously fast.

But when he got to Pike's Point, he failed to negotiate the turn,

went over the side and crashed on the rocks.

When we recovered the car, there was blood in it,

but no body to be found.

Were you satisfied at the time there was an accident?

Well, why not?

I mean, uh, we checked it out, you can be sure of that.

The boy had no bad associations, no gambling debts,

nothing to link him to, uh, blackmail or women.

That boy lived such a clean life, it was unhealthy.

Didn't you find it strange that you never found a body?

No, not really; two other cars went over at that same point

the previous month, we never found

any of those occupants either.

There can be mighty tricky currents around these parts.

What about his effects?

What happened to those?

Well, an uncle picked them up the day after the inquest.

Yeah, that's, um, "Elmer P. Sherwood.

1786 North Avenue, Philadelphia.”

That's right, that's him.

Summers' only relative.

There was a girl that said she was a cousin

that went to see his landlady.

Yeah, she never showed up around here.

Was there, uh, any crime committed here

round about that time?

Well, let's see.

Yes, but it didn't amount to much.

Well, what was it?

Well, somebody broke into Warren's garage

and started fooling around one of the cars.

Charlie Ross pulled his gun, took a shot at him,

which the guy took off like a deer.

Charlie Ross is the night watchman.

When was that?

As a matter of fact,

that was the night before young Summers was killed.

Would you, uh, mind if checked out the garage?

Well, not at all.

Just about everybody will be gone by now,

but Charlie will be there.

Charlie?

Charlie?

We got a report of a shot.

Yeah, it's my gun.

What happened anyhow?

Uh, some guys jumped me.

Hey, Sheriff.

Over here.

Why, it's Charlie Ross.

Why don't you fellas take a look around, huh?

Charlie, did you get a chance to see who it was?

Snuck up on me from behind.

Never got a chance.

I wonder what it is they wanted.

Search me.

Who's he?

Oh, this is Mr. Mannix from L.A.

He's a private detective.

I was on my way over here to talk to you, Mr. Ross.

Maybe those men knew that.

What would I know that'd get anyone so fired up?

The night before young Summers, from the university,

went over the cliff, you fired a shot at somebody.

Yeah.

He was fooling around the trunk of a car.

Any idea what he was after?

Uh-uh.

But as far as I know, he got what he was looking for,

'cause when I looked in the trunk,

there wasn't nothing there but the spare.

I wonder if I could talk to the owner of that car.

Be kind of difficult, Mr. Mannix.

Belongs to the Summers kid.

The one that went over the cliff.

Hello, Mrs. Fair.

Hello, Miss Linley.

Is he back?

Yes, he is. Go right in.

Thank you.

Mr. Mannix?

What did you find out in Ashton?

Before we get down to that,

maybe you'll tell me what you were doing up there.

I've never been to Ashton in my life.

You saw a woman by the name of Mrs. Bunny Mason,

you asked about the late Whitfield Summers,

you pretended to be his cousin,

and you were wearing dark glasses--

To hide your tears, no doubt.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Well, let me lay it out for you.

Please.

The man you knew as Gordon Cameron

is really Whitfield Summers, or seems to be.

He arranged for his own death in Ashton.

A girl fitting your description

questioned his landlady on February 9.

Well, lookit, it wasn't me.

I swear it, it wasn't me.

You asked me what I found out in Ashton, I'm telling you.

Joe, Lieutenant Ives wants you to come down to headquarters

right away, if you're not busy.

I'll be there in 20 minutes.

All right, Mr. Mannix.

You've made your point.

You think that Gordon's guilty,

so you don't want to go on with the case.

You still believe he's innocent, don't you?

Yes, I do.

I'll say this for him.

Whoever he is and whatever he's done,

this Gordon Cameron has a real flair for making friends.

Well, if that's all you found out now, Mr. Mannix,

that's not a bad epitaph, is it?

For a murderer.

Nice of you to turn it in, Joe, even 24 hours late.

It's, uh, these little signs of cooperation

that make you so invaluable to the department.

Well, I turned in the rest of the stuff, didn't I?

Yeah, and I'll mention that in your defense,

at the hearing to revoke your license.

Wait a minute.

What about all the legwork I did for you in Ashton?

With a busted skull for my troubles.

Joe, this was a nice, tidy, open-and-shut case

till you stuck your nose into it.

Now look what I got-- a jigsaw puzzle.

So that's why you sent for me, to tell me you're in trouble.

No. Here.

The FBI report on Cameron's prints.

Negative.

Aside from that wild story

you came in here with a minute ago,

this character Cameron was never born,

baptized, drafted or even buried.

His driver's license is a forgery.

This guy makes up names as he goes along.

Well, it's your baby now, Dan!

Thanks.

Well, hi.

Your new partner was, uh, wondering where you were.

My what?

Jerry Vane, of Mannix and Vane Private Investigators.

He would've preferred it to be Vane and Mannix,

but I told him that was a little bit pushy.

Yeah.

Oh, you don't have to knock.

Just breeze right in.

Hello there, pal.

Hey, that's good stuff.

Glad you like it.

Hey, uh, I thought I'd drop around and give you a report.

Old guy I know used to be a private eye.

Well, he, uh, he smells that reward

and he wants to get a piece of my action.

So I tell pop to nose around

and, uh, I'd give him a fin for any goodies.

Well, he comes up with a couple.

Shoot.

They help you any, maybe you'll reconsider?

Huh?

I still say we'd make a great team.

Let's just have the goodies, okay?

Well, uh, the license number

of that wagon that almost got you was a phony.

No surprise, huh?

There's my secretary's note on it.

"Evelyn at DMV called.

Wagon license number a phony.”

Well, there goes a fin down the drain.

It was, uh, nice of you to drop by. Thanks, Vane.

Now, now, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute!

How about this?

Pop gets to the girlfriend of a guard

at Viking Electronics.

She says that the Cameron dossier was swiped

out of the security file.

I'm out another fin?

Call me when you and pop come up with any more goodies, huh?

Yeah, well, I suppose I wasted another fin on the Olson bit.

Well, you can't win 'em all.

Yeah, well, wait a minute.

What about the Olsons?

You didn't know?

Finally!

Well, it seems that Mr. and Mrs. O weren't seeing

eye-to-eye the last year or two.

And she was getting ready to give Mr. O the gate.

Now, did this bother Mr. 0O? Uh-uh.

He's already got something else going.

A young girl, uh, 25 or six, uh, straw blonde, a stunner.

Well, they'd been getting away with it for months, pop said,

right under everybody's nose.

How?

Wouldn't fool you or me for a minute,

but you know, the sucker public.

A dark wig and big shades.

Do you believe it?

Yeah, well, uh, pop said that it was under everyone's nose.

Meaning what?

I didn't ask... but I will.

Yeah, do that and then get back to me, huh?

Right.

Peggy, call Lieutenant Ives.

Tell him to get over to Viking Electronics.

I think I've solved part of his jigsaw puzzle.

Mr. Olson.

Well, Mr. Mannix,

what's so urgent that it couldn't wait ten minutes?

It's about Gordon Cameron.

What about him?

His real name is Whitfield Summers,

and he arranged for his own death in a town called Ashton.

Well, it's forming a pattern, isn't it?

But are you any closer to finding him?

Can't say that I am.

The police seem stymied, too.

You know, it's really incredible

that a murderer can simply vanish

in a regulated society like ours.

I don't think

your wife's murderer has vanished, Mr. Olson.

I think he may be closer to us than we realize.

In fact... sitting right there in that chair.

If this is a blackmail attempt, Mannix,

it won't get you anything but a jail sentence.

Aileen, wait outside, please.

You'd better stay, Aileen.

After all, you're involved in this, too,

right up to your dark glasses.

Call the guard. Throw him out.

And while we're waiting,

I'll explain how you did it, shall I?

Mannix, you're out of your mind.

Am I?

Do you think we'll find it too difficult to prove that

your secretary took the day off on February 9

and went to Ashton?

Mrs. Mason should be able to identify her

with wig, dark glasses... or without.

Shut up! He's only bluffing.

It's no use. They know.

She, uh, she wasn't involved.

Except for checking Gordon Cameron's background.

My wife was a cold-hearted snake, Mannix.

She got what she deserved.

Did Gordon Cameron?

He had something to hide.

Or why would he arrange his own death

and turn up here, under a false name?

He's no worse off than he was before.

What did you do, uh...

ask him to meet you at your house?

Yes.

He thought he was in for a promotion.

And then you killed your wife, and you returned

when you knew Cameron was there.

You knew his background and you knew he'd run,

rather than face an investigation.

Very neat.

And you still have the $100,000 in jewelry.

What's this all about, Joe?

Oh, Mr. Olson is in a confessing mood, Dan.

Where are you going?

To tell my client

her boyfriend isn't guilty of murder.

Hello.

Look, I just wanted to tell you that...

that I'm safe.

I'm not gonna stay on long enough for them to trace me.

Hey, I miss you.

I'm sorry.

What number do you want?

No, it isn't.

No, there's no one here by that name.

Don't hang up!

I suppose you know who this is.

What do you want, Vane?

I'm delighted to know that you've been resurrected

from your watery grave.

I'll do anything you ask-- just let her go, okay?

Oh, we'll let her go...

after you're safely back in the fold.

Now, if that meets with your approval,

I'll tell you where we'll be waiting.

Hold it right there!

Are you hurt?

No.

What happened?

I-I tripped and nearly knocked myself out.

You're lucky there are a lot of names

in that phone directory.

What did they want?

They were holding me hostage so that Gordon would meet them.

Where were they gonna meet, do you know?

A place called Ocean World, in the aquarium.

I want you to call police headquarters.

Get a hold of Lieutenant Ives.

Tell them to get there fast.

Okay.

By

by

You've led us quite a dance, haven't you?

Where is Sheila?

She's safe.

And she will be as long as you cooperate.

How do I know that you won't harm her?

Don't tell me you doubt my word.

Where do I go?

There's a boat waiting off the Mexican coast.

You'll be flown there tonight.

You know, we never really believed

that absurd death that you arranged.

We knew that, sooner or later, you'd have to surface.

Hold it right there!

By

Who was he?

He was the man I reported to when I first came to America.

I was recruited and trained to learn everything

Professor Thompson was working on.

After I had it all,

Vane was to arrange a accident for the professor.

And after you got to know the professor,

you couldn't go through with it.

So you arranged your own death and disappeared

to throw Vane off the track.

Right.

Well, I'm glad it's all over.

By

You're government, right?

That's right.

How long have you known about this?

Well, the day he disappeared, he sent us a note.

It was a real shocker.

He told us all about the plan.

He admitted his guilt 100%.

But he also warned us that, because of his defection,

there might be an attempt on a professor's life.

Washington sent me here

to give him round-the-clock protection.

So you knew all along that Gordon Cameron wasn't dead.

Sure.

We wanted to give him political asylum,

but we didn't know where to find him

until the L.A. police sent us his prints.

Then you showed up and...

You used me as a bird dog.

It was the only way to go.

Thanks a lot.

Till we meet again.

Thank you.

What do they got to look forward to?

Well, we'll tidy up the loose ends.

Give them a new identity.

Hide them in some out-of-way spot.

And hope the other side gets tired of looking for 'em.