All language subtitles for Ironside S01e00 Ironside (Pilot)

Oh, shut up your cackling.

Girl, it's way past your bedtime.

Look, I'm not your keeper, I'm a guest here.

I don't even like eggs.

Vacation.

You've been working too hard.

Why don't you go up to my place in the country and relax?

Relax.

Relax.

Relax.

Mr. Ironside?

Ironside?

Herman, get an ambulance over to Commissioner Randall's place right away.

He's been shot.

Not the commissioner, that detective.

Ironside.

Ironside.

Ironside.

Ironside.

Ironside.

And now for a report on national news.

We take you directly, but first from Sonoma County.

A police report that San Francisco's chief of detectives, Robert Ironside, was shot by

an unknown assailant last night.

The attack occurred on a chicken farm in Glen Ellen, owned by police commissioner Dennis

Randall, where Ironside, at 46, the city's youngest chief of detectives, was spending

his first vacation in a quarter of a century on the force.

Doctors at St. Mary's Hospital in Sonoma describe his condition as critical.

And now to New York.

Bob, Ironside was a cop's cop.

I know you don't understand that, and neither will your readers, but you might as well put

it in.

People expect it.

You gonna work tonight, Ed?

Why not?

Well, I can cover for you.

I thought maybe, you know, with Ironside.

You know what he used to tell me?

The only excuse for a policeman taking a day off is death.

His own.

If it wasn't for Ironside, I'd still be a shoplifter.

He made me understand I had a talent.

He was a policeman, but he had an eye for the finer things in life.

You knew him, didn't you?

Yes.

Is it true that he got you to join the force?

You're a Whitfield, aren't you?

I mean, one of the Whitfields.

Yes.

Yes, I am a Whitfield.

I am also a graduate of Briarcliff and Swarthmore.

And I'm on the force because I was a witness at a jewel robbery three years ago, and Chief

Ironside said that I had excellent powers of observation.

For abroad, he said.

Then he told you to go to the police academy.

He did not.

He told me not to.

He said that police work would break my heart.

Excuse me.

Tina found this.

The only sound footage of Ironside ever made.

Put it on, honey.

Sure.

Has it ever been used?

Couldn't be.

Political reasons.

You'll see.

Whenever you're ready, Dave.

We can make the network with a quickie special if he goes today.

Shot in the night on a lonely Glen Ellyn chicken farm brought an end to a career in detection

that spanned three decades.

Baseball met Joe DiMaggio when he arrived on the force.

Met Willie Mays when...

Here we go.

He's speaking at the police academy graduation in 1959.

Now a few words from chief of detectives Robert Ironside.

The mayor just told you some lies, boys.

But don't get mad at him.

He figures if he told you the truth, you'd all quit.

Now I know you won't because you're all out of your flaming minds anyway or you wouldn't

be here.

Truth is, you're not going to earn the respect of any flaming community.

Most of the citizens won't notice you any more than they would a streetlight.

Only when you're not there, they'll holler the way they would if the streetlight went

out.

Most of them figure you're on the take and the rest of them will try to put you there.

One or two of you will go on the take and the rest of you will be hated for it.

Right, commissioner?

He's not going to tell you either.

So you'll do the best you can and you'll get no thanks for it.

And one day you'll stop a bullet and they'll decide you weren't a brute or a crook or incompetent.

Just a cop.

A man trying to do an impossible job.

And down at the station house, the squad will take up a collection for your widow if you've

been silly enough to get married.

That'll be that.

Well, welcome aboard, boys.

Is that a great lead for an overt?

Someday you'll stop a bullet.

Did he ever get married?

To the force.

I mean, to a woman.

Yeah, that too.

But she died.

Wouldn't have worked out anyway.

Can't be married to two wives.

Well, go ahead, polish it up.

You doing the iron side wrap up?

Yeah.

Forget it.

He's fooled us again.

Now they say he's going to live.

Who?

I'm Sister Agatha, Mr. Ironside.

You are in St. Mary's in Sonoma.

Who blessed it, not where?

Now, you've got to rest.

And I already told you who I am.

Now you him.

There's no one else here.

Oh, him, the slob who did it.

Who shot me then?

You hush now.

They don't know who shot you.

What day is it?

Thursday night.

I was shot.

Tuesday night.

These two will know.

Damn it.

What are we paying them for?

Take off your flaming hat, Ed.

You're in the flaming house.

We are a little thirsty this morning.

I'll take that.

Thank you.

I've got it.

Just take his coat and hat.

The great bush goes over here.

Thank you.

If you like, I'll take that too.

I have to keep that.

I'm on duty.

Sergeant Brown, Sergeant Agatha.

You two ought to get along well together.

You're both duty happy.

Well, what are you waiting for?

The doctor ordered me to stay.

The doctor ordered me not to turn over.

What about my case?

They expect to make an arrest within 24 hours.

Meaning they haven't got a flaming notion.

Meaning they haven't got a flaming...

Exactly that.

I've got to get a phone.

Sister!

I checked with your doctor.

A drink before dinner is all right.

Where's the whiskey?

Oh, you think of something.

I have thought of something.

I need a phone.

Not a chance.

Give me the commissioner's office.

Maxine, is the boss in?

Me, Ironside.

Who'd you think?

No, only the good guy, young.

He's where?

Conference with who?

Yes, you do that.

Pacific Union Club?

I want Commissioner Dennis Randall.

He isn't.

All right.

Give me the steam room, please.

Ernie, this is me.

At table three.

There's a fellow lying on his back under a sheet,

sleeping and sweating.

Stick a phone under his nose, will you?

Commissioner, I am an irate taxpayer,

and I demand to know what is being done

in the investigation of the dastardly attack

on a splendid American chief, Robert Ironside.

I'm feeling fine, Dennis.

Now, answer my question.

I thought so.

Oh, Keely's all right for a young fellow.

No, no, I don't want you to put anybody else on it.

I'll take it over myself.

Myself.

M-Y-S...

Hold on.

Commissioner wants to know how quick I can get back

to take over my case.

Well?

I want to talk to you about that.

Later.

It's probably costing me a nickel a minute.

How long?

Well, you should be able to leave here in about two weeks,

but there are...

I'll see you a week from Sunday.

Rosie's place.

Goodbye, Commissioner.

Well, spit it out.

Let me guess.

My health insurance has run out,

and you need this room for a very rich man with the gout.

I thought a conversation was supposed to be

first on one side and then on the other.

It's your turn.

Now, Mr. Ironside, I've been studying your X-rays,

and so has the orthopedist, and so has the chief surgeon.

You can go home in a week, if you like.

But what?

No, no, no, no.

I'm not gonna last long, is that it?

How long?

A month?

This afternoon?

You're not going to die, Mr. Ironside.

Not ever?

You hear that, sister?

Not from your womb, that is.

But the bullet shattered a nerve junction in your spine.

What does that mean?

Well, neurologically speaking, it means...

Not neurologically speaking, English speaking.

It means that there's no reason

that you can't live a full and productive life.

It means that when you leave here,

you can do anything you like.

Anything except walk.

That all?

Well, don't you two have anything else to do?

All right, you told me.

I've had guys confess to murder quicker.

What do you do when you have real bad news?

Bring in a flaming fiddler to play hearts and flowers?

What is all this?

Chief Ironside, the doctors, nurses,

and the staff of this hospital want you to know

how honored we are to have had you as a patient.

And, uh, uh, you know, uh, your courage

and unfailing good humor have been an inspiration to us all.

And we would like you to accept a token

of the high regard that we feel for you.

Oh.

Presented by the staff of St. Mary's Hospital

to the world's greatest detective.

Say something, tough guy.

I hope you, uh, people don't shell out your good money

for door prizes every time the people upstairs blow a case.

And, um, thank you.

What happens if you wave?

Wave.

Sister, if you ever decide to get out of your business,

you'd make a great cop.

Too fast for you, Chief?

That'd be the day.

You should have gone back to the farm for a couple of days.

Why?

You need the rest.

Why?

You must be tired.

What have I done to be tired?

All right, stop the car.

Stop the flaming car.

I can't stop here.

Yes, you can.

Emergency stops permitted.

Stop the car, Sergeant.

Now, Eve, we've been friends for a long time.

I'd hate to think there was anything you wanted to say to me

and haven't because you thought I might take offense.

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

All the way down here, you've been telling me how tired I should be,

how I ought to rest.

It's the truth.

As far as it goes, but there's more to it.

That's the part I want to hear.

You've got to take it easy, Chief.

You mustn't exert yourself, Chief, because you're a cripple, Chief.

You say that, Eve.

Why?

Because I'm asking you to.

Because I'm a cripple, Chief.

Okay, Ed, your turn.

Then say, that goes for me, too.

Goes for me, too.

All right, now you've said it.

Neither of you ever has to say it again.

What are we waiting for?

Don't you know it's against the law to stop on the freeway?

The 49ers trailing by four points.

Time for maybe two more plates.

Brody, throw.

Brody back again.

I'm sure it'll be the final play of the game.

Completes one today.

Parks, he breaks the tackle at the 49 line.

He's at the 20.

Ladies and gentlemen, he is impossible.

A full-less ball game.

Out.

They trail by four.

Ladies and gentlemen, Parks still going.

He may go all the way.

Is it possible?

He may go all the way.

He's being hefted.

Parks may go all the way.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

He's going to the 40.

How about that?

Bernard Partridge.

He may go all the way.

He hits at the 5 yard line but breaks the tackle.

And it's in for the touchdown, the 49ers win.

The 49ers wins, ladies and gentlemen.

Hey, who is that?

Sinatra?

The President?

Are you kidding or something?

It's ironside.

Hey, just move over a little bit, will you?

Just a moment there.

Hi, Chief.

Hi, Charlie.

Ernie?

That was a nice official you wrote on May Day.

You got your facts all wrong, as usual,

but your grammar's improved.

Come on, you guys.

Break it down.

You'll keep being the kind of people

You got your facts all wrong as usual,

but your grammar's improving.

Come on, you guys, break it up.

You're keeping the customers away from the booze.

That was a pretty scary gig, this thought.

We were about breaking out with that black martini pitcher.

If I've survived 20 years of drinking your booze,

I'm not about to get stopped by any bullet.

You have any ideas who plugged your chief?

Yeah, somebody with a grudge against me.

Well, that narrows it down to about a million.

How are you gonna handle the case?

No comment on that as of this moment.

Glad to see you, Bob.

Mind if I don't stand up?

Well, Einstein will be going back to work, sir.

Is he going to investigate the attempt on his life?

Is this an official meeting?

How soon before we get the details on when...

Quiet, quiet, you ink-stained hyenas.

They'll always cooperate.

You just gotta know how to handle them.

This is an unofficial meeting, a private unofficial meeting.

Okay.

You may have a statement later.

As usual, Ricky.

Well, how are you feeling, Bob?

You shouldn't have asked that.

I might tell you.

Nervous, frustrated, bored.

Already? Why, you just got out of the hospital.

I was bored when I went in there from that vacation you made me take.

Dennis, I need a job.

Well, maybe I can help you, Bob.

There is an opening.

As assistant security chief at the port authority.

Now, Dennis, I've only had two bosses in my whole life.

United States Navy and the city of San Francisco.

I'm not about to try for three, and the Navy isn't going to take me back.

Well, neither will the city.

Now, don't misunderstand me.

I won't.

It's not up to me.

I'd be glad to have you in the department any time, in or out of a wheelchair.

But there are rules.

We'll never get a waiver for that.

And the day you start working, that'll be the end of your pension.

Yeah.

I guess you're right.

Of course, I...

It's good work for nothing.

Well, of course, you wouldn't want to do that, so...

Why not? If I don't get paid, we don't need a waiver, I can keep my pension.

I could start with my own case.

As a private citizen?

As a consultant.

There's no precedent.

The mayor says he wants the help of qualified volunteers.

Well, you know I qualify, and I am volunteering.

Well, I guess...

Well, why not? We could try.

Okay, boys.

Gentlemen, I believe the commissioner has a statement.

Can you use it?

Try to spell his name right.

Former chief of detectives Robert Ironside has returned to the department.

Oh, great.

Chief Ironside will work out of my office on special assignments.

His first assignment will be to assist in the investigation into the attack on himself.

And that's all.

Let's go.

I'll need a small staff.

Sergeant Brown, policewoman Whitfield.

Oh, sure.

There's an empty storeroom on the third floor down at headquarters. I'd like that for my office.

I can pick up whatever furniture and other stuff I need if you'll just okay.

Commissioner, just one, please.

You sure you don't want my watch and ring?

No.

I already got a watch and ring.

Watch and ring.

That will have to go.

Nonsense. No home should be without one.

Gives me height, mobility and comfort.

Besides, it has great historical significance.

You know what event took place in this barber chair?

No.

And I don't think I want to.

I'll get it.

Smiling Dan Cruickshank suddenly died in this chair.

Old Ferry building, 1939.

Chili.

You'll die of scurvy.

Chili happens to contain every food element needed to support life.

According to whom?

Anyhow, I like chili.

Right.

News from the outside world.

You remember that list we made up?

People who might hate you.

Yes.

Might have satisfied customers.

What about it?

A fellow named Tom Carey?

Swore an open court he'd kill me.

I told him he'd have to wait his turn.

Only, he doesn't get out.

Only he busted out ten days before you were shot.

What would his mother think?

You figure that makes him a suspect?

You put him in jail.

He broke out.

Ten days later...

The trouble with you people is when you go to the movies, you watch the screen.

You see criminals hiding in abandoned warehouses.

There hasn't been an abandoned warehouse in this country since before World War II.

Now, in the movies, escaped prisoners commit crime.

Whereas in real life, they're model citizens.

They act that way.

Oh, they may steal a car, grab a hostage as part of their escape.

Once they're out, they observe speed limits, drink in moderation, or not at all.

Cross at the green and pay all taxes when due, because anything else makes them conspicuous.

And they do not want to be noticed.

Now, query.

Would Tom Carey, having gone to a lot of trouble to get loose, risk his freedom just for the satisfaction of taking a pop at me?

Next case.

Hey.

Hey, you.

Just what are you doing with this antique?

This vehicle is the property of Chief Ironside.

By authority of Commissioner...

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Randall.

Well?

Done.

Done. This is your life, Robert Ironside.

Good.

Charlie Akron. Extortion murder. Dead now, I'm afraid.

Benny Byrne.

They called him Boom Boom.

He was a bomb man. He wouldn't have used a rifle.

Baby Peggy Marble.

Fired only one rifle shot in her whole life, but that was a beauty.

Caught her husband and his doxy with one bullet.

Into the sunlight at 200 yards with a strong crosswind.

Ah, where are they now?

You doing any good?

I got the same answer ballistics got, Chief.

The shots came from just about here, in among the stand of sycamores.

Pretty good shot.

We'll have to get a list of all criminals who've used rifles.

I don't think there is one.

Then we'll make one.

Chief.

Well, welcome, Commissioner.

How about that patrol wagon?

Yeah, how about that? Isn't she a beauty?

You know, we usually put those relics up for a surplus sale.

That's all right. I told everybody who authorized me to take it.

You did what?

You said I should pick up whatever it was I needed.

What numbskull forgot to turn off the chili?

I'll get it.

There is an ordinance against cooking in these rooms, Chief.

Commissioner, I'm going to forget you ever mentioned that.

Yep.

Chief, you remember a kid named Mark Sanger?

Yeah, I remember. What about him?

I ran into him downstairs.

They were booking him for some kind of ruckus at Golden Gate Park.

I remembered he was one of your dissatisfied customers,

so I asked him where he was the night you got shot.

Guess what?

He won't tell you.

That's right.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

He's a big shot.

I'm not going to tell you.

That's right.

He also told you to go t—

That's right.

Send him up.

We'll be right there.

Not we, him.

I said send him.

But, Chief—

Remember me?

Sure. You've sent me up twice.

Wrong. You sent yourself up twice.

I recommended you for youthful offender treatment twice.

Oh, thank you, boss.

Sir.

Sit down, Mark.

I did it because I don't think you're stupid.

Only ignorant and angry.

My, my.

You gonna give me a cigarette and tell me about Jackie Robertson and Ralph Bunche and Booker T. Washington?

Huh?

Look, I done been in this route before, Charlie.

You know my name, and it's not Charlie, man, buddy boy, nor baby.

Check.

Check.

You take drugs, Mark?

That's for suckers.

One point for me, you're not stupid.

Did you finish school?

That for suckers, too?

It's not for me, baby.

It's not for me.

What is for you, Mark?

Nothing.

Why? Tell me.

Go to hell.

Nothing's for you because you're black?

Well, you make me sick.

Well, I am sorry, sir.

There you are, standing on your own feet in front of a man who can't, and you're sorry for yourself because you're black?

Well, paint me black and let me walk out of here.

You have never been black.

If you were, you'd be hollering, make me white and stick me in an iron lock.

You didn't shoot me, did you, Mark?

I don't have to answer that.

No, you don't.

But you hate me enough to, don't you?

I hate your guts.

Enough to kill me?

Ten times over.

Just never had the chance, that it?

Well, there's your chance.

What chance?

In a building full of cops?

You mean you'd only kill me if you could get away with it?

Well, I don't call that hate.

Well, you mean...

I am supposed to think that that gun is loaded, huh?

But you told me I wasn't stupid.

Now, that's going to cost you $8.35.

$4 for the glass, $4 for the glazer and $0.35 for my bullet.

It's all right, Ed.

$8.35, Mark.

Where am I going to get that kind of money?

That's your problem.

I want you to be back here in the morning with it.

All right, Ed, take him downstairs and let him loose.

Loose?

You'll be back with that money.

If you don't say anything, I'm going to figure I got your word.

You said that, not me.

Beauty.

All right, let's see the engine.

Nice.

Nice, it's the greatest.

Full power V8, high cam supercharger, engine's been squared, fuel injection.

Want to know where I got it?

Definitely not.

All right, shut it down.

I can't get the money.

Then how come you showed up?

Well, if I didn't, you would have sent somebody.

All right, I showed because you didn't send anybody.

Big deal.

I could arrest you, but I'd still be out my $8.35.

You want to work it out?

I'm not much on fixin' window.

Not that.

What then?

Work it out, doing what?

Oh, a little bit of everything.

Including driving this.

Also, taking care of me, getting me up out of bed in the morning, into the chair, reverse at night.

Well, now, you're looking for a boy.

No.

Just legs.

You got them and I need them.

It's that simple.

Well, I'm not.

Simple.

Look, I'm offering you a job.

You'd live where I live, eat what I eat, go where I go.

And I go a lot of interesting places.

You thinking?

Now, while you're thinking, start pushing.

What's the catch?

Catch is, I gotta pay you out of my own pocket and I haven't got much.

You get maybe $20 a week, walking around money.

What do you make now?

I don't exactly have regular wages.

You also have to go to school a couple of nights.

You got no right to tell me I gotta go back to school.

No, Mark.

But I got the right to say I don't want ignorant people around me.

Well, how about it?

I'll think it over.

You've done that.

Wills.

Yeah.

Start her up.

Wills.

Yeah.

Mark's hangar is coming forward.

Check him out on the controls.

Okay.

Couldn't you hear me?

Sure.

Eve, you and Ed come down here and bring the physical evidence with you.

We're going on a little field trip.

Along the way, we're going to drop in on baby Peggy.

Miss Marvel around?

Excuse me.

You after me again, copper?

No, Peggy, this is just a social call.

I'll show you social.

Has your hand lost its skill?

I'll show you skill.

You want to take her downtown?

No, let her go.

She's already told me what I want to know.

I told you nothing.

Actions speak louder than words.

If you'd already put me in a wheelchair for life,

would you still be interested in scratching my eyes out?

Mark.

Aren't you forgetting something, Peggy?

I'm sorry.

All right, I saw what I wanted to see.

Come on, get me up.

Come on, get me up.

What did you see?

Nothing.

You mean you're not going to tell me?

I saw what I wanted to see and that it was nothing.

Is that clear?

No.

Pictures, statements, reports, all adding up to nothing.

And the physical evidence.

You've been through this, I take it.

They got it all, the bullets, of course, they got them.

One from me, the rest from the walls.

Six bullets,.30 caliber.

Fired from a Springfield.30-06.

Not too clean.

Ballistics report negative.

And this?

This stuff from around the sycamores.

They got one of those big vacuum cleaners and picked up everything movable.

Apparently that sycamore grove is a popular spot with the younger set.

Candy wrappers, cigarette packs, cigarettes, used matches.

A dime, nail file.

Query, what is missing?

I don't know.

Some miscellaneous nuts.

Some miscellaneous nuts?

I got one myself.

I don't believe it.

You wrote some miscellaneous nuts?

What's the matter with it?

Nothing at all.

Except that in police work there's no such thing as some, numbers are important.

And miscellaneous means a lot of different things and these are all the same.

And nuts is too general and happens to be incorrect.

Otherwise a splendid piece of labeling.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Not some miscellaneous, just six.

Now six what?

Not nuts, what?

Ed, what is that?

That's right, Miss Whitfield has had the benefit of an expensive classical education perhaps.

It's an acorn.

An acorn, exactly.

Six acorns.

Now what do we know about acorns?

Come, come.

Has no one ever told you mighty oaks from little acorns grow?

The acorn is the fruit of the oak.

But do you see any oaks in among those sycamores?

The nearest oak is a hundred yards from those sycamores.

Now query, how came those acorns among those sycamore?

Mark, I need the phone.

Information?

I want the phone number of the nearest office of the Boy Scouts of America.

And don't go away.

I also want the number of the local field agent for the Department of Agriculture.

Now I'll wait.

I'm still waiting, honey.

Okay, go ahead, boys.

We just have a little more of this area to check, Chief, and then we move over to the north.

Maybe a little closer to where the shots were fired?

No.

You see, they always bring objects from around their nest.

This little fellow brought acorns, so he lives near oak trees, not sycamores.

I'm surprised you didn't know that.

You should talk to my associates.

They never even heard of pack rats.

I wish I never had heard of them.

Why aren't you looking?

Because I'm afraid I might find one.

He's not your true rat, you know. He's more like your hamster or your squirrel.

I'm not too crazy about anything with tiny eyes, sharp teeth, and a bushy tail.

Keep looking.

Well, there's nothing to worry about. The noise and the lights will have scared him off.

Keep looking.

Keep looking.

Help!

Help!

I'm falling!

You all right?

Not in front of the scouts, please.

Should I wheel him into a tree?

Hooray! I found it.

Is it the little fellow?

He's gone.

Be careful.

As any of these fine young Americans could have told you, the pack rat is a collector.

He picks up shiny objects and places them in his nest, for he's a lover of beauty.

But he is an honest beast, and he replaces every object he collects with one of his own.

Bottle cap, tin foil, a quarter, a marble, brass button.

Last chance.

Our little friend put six acorns near the spot where the shots were fired, replacing six what?

Six acorns, six shots. What is missing?

Six cartridge cases.

But did you think my assailant searched the area with a flashlight and removed them?

No.

Did you suppose that he fired.30 caliber bullets from a muzzle-loading musket or a slingshot?

WD, meaning?

War Department.

Splendid.

Did you ever think of going into police work?

Please convey my thanks to your troops.

It's our pleasure.

If any of your lads ever get to San Francisco, they're to have a complete tour of the police department.

Just tell them to ask for a police commissioner, Dennis Randall.

I will, chief.

All right, boys, let's move out.

Now, what else do the initials WD tell us besides the fact that these cartridges were once the property of our armed forces?

Well, perhaps a refreshing night's sleep will restore our brains to a more satisfactory level of efficiency.

I restate the question.

We know that ammunition marked WD was once the property of our armed forces.

But what else do we know?

We know when.

In 1945, war having become impossible, the War Department became the Department of Defense.

Ammunition acquired by the government after that date would bear the letters D.O.D.

Gave me a bit of a turn, realizing I'd been done in by a bullet made a quarter of a century back.

Then I got to wondering.

There must have been a lot of.30 caliber ammunition left over when the killing stopped back in 45.

Now, query, what did the government do with it?

Do you expect us to answer that?

I would be pleasantly surprised.

You're too kind.

They sold it at or below the cost to institutions offering ROTC training, meaning land grant colleges, military schools and high schools.

But almost all high schools use.22s.

So a college or military school looks like the best bet.

Best bet for what?

Best bet for where my rifleman got his ammo.

You see, so far we've been looking for someone with a reason to shoot at me and with the capability to make the shots accurate.

Now we add a new qualification.

Association with an ROTC college or a military school.

Mark, it's amazing what an uneducated class of criminals we're getting these days.

Of all the evil doers I've removed from society, not more than half a dozen, it would seem, attended either a college offering ROTC or a military school.

And of those six, three are long deceased and two are still in captivity.

And the sixth?

And the sixth?

I thought you'd never ask.

Professor, if you please.

Familiar?

At your excuse, you were a Marine at the time.

And I wasn't even on the force at the time, but I remember reading something about it in the paper.

The poet, the one there was so much fuss about.

That's right, Anthony Emmons, an Iparo-Sara High School Twin Peaks, IQ over 200, and therefore off the scale on our tests.

First poems published in National Quarterly at age 13.

Expelled from Metropolitan Military Academy at age 17 for shooting cigarette out of fellow student's mouth with a rifle at 200 yards.

When they kicked him out, he didn't go home and he stole, of all things, a rifle from the school.

Camped out in various public parks in the Bay Area, amusing himself by firing bull's-eyes into lamp lights from long distances.

He was eventually caught after he put a shot into the window of the 517 to San Mateo.

I won't tell you the range.

You wouldn't believe it anyway.

What happened to him?

I remember.

So do I.

He was given juvenile offender treatment after several experts testified that he was a brilliant but misdirected boy.

And after he testified.

I wasn't trying to hit anybody.

You can always tell what I aimed at by what I hit.

A.A. Emmons, people versus Emmons.

So they sent him to the Rehabilitation Center for Juvenile Offenders, from which he was discharged as cured five days before...

Next slide.

Next slide.

Left, a bullet taken from a Southern Pacific smoking car some three years ago.

Right, a bullet taken from the spine of Robert Ironside, chief of detectives.

Now observe.

This same rifle, they didn't take it away from him?

He didn't have it when he was arrested.

He said he put it in the bay.

Well, he put it somewhere.

Mark Singer, class of 64.

Food any better?

I am being reasonable.

You people thought you'd removed all his antisocial impulses.

But you overlooked his wish to put a bullet into my spine.

Probably he didn't mention it.

I can understand that.

We're as sorry about that as you are.

Not quite.

The trouble with me is I've listened to so many irate citizens, I couldn't pass up the chance to be one.

What was he like?

Quiet, good student, obeyed all the rules, none of which mean anything.

Dr. Schley.

Doctor.

Well, to begin with, the papers were right.

He was brilliant.

Genius is a hard word to define, but however you define it, he was it.

Apart from that?

Confused, bitter, angry.

Against whom?

A world with too much food and too many people starving.

People that killed other people and threw beer cans on the highway.

His parents?

You're quite perceptive.

She's pretty, too, but she's on duty.

What about his parents?

They've got money.

Lots of it.

And the notion that if you spend enough, you can buy a normal boy.

When he turned out to be a boy who liked poetry and coffee houses, they didn't know what to make of it.

And to answer Miss Whitfield's question, yes, Tony hated his parents, but I thought he had gotten over that.

But then I also thought he was ready to go out.

Obviously, I was wrong about a lot of things.

Now, don't start feeling guilty.

You did the best you could.

If you waited till you knew they were cured, you'd never let any of them out.

Did he have any close friends up here?

Staff, teachers, students?

He was a loner.

That was one of the things that was wrong with him.

He felt bad because it was hard for him to make friends.

I tried to make him understand that lots of people have...

There was a girl.

There was nothing really between them, but I thought they were getting to be pretty good friends.

She got out about six months ago.

Yes, um, Ellen Wells.

Could I have her address?

Certainly.

Thank you.

The boy was pretty close to you, wasn't he?

I was his doctor.

And yes, I liked him, and I thought he liked me.

If you happen to hear from him, let me know.

Thank you.

It's to his best interest and ours to pick him up fast.

While the only charge against him is attempted murder.

Hear from him? Why should we hear from him?

We're only his parents.

We neglected him, you know?

We only sent him to the best schools we could find.

Gave him everything he ever wanted or needed.

But we neglected him, or so they say.

I mean, isn't that always the case?

When a kid goes wrong, it's the parents' fault.

Right?

Did you know if he had any friends?

People he might have gotten in touch with?

No, no. No friends.

Not for my Tony.

He was a real loner.

In high school, nobody.

Military school, no.

An arts teacher.

An industrial arts teacher.

He said she had taste.

You remember Gloria?

Gloria, do you remember?

I remember.

Do you remember her name?

No, he never mentioned it.

I guess they'd know at the military school.

Man, you blow a good horn.

He didn't resist discipline.

He simply ignored it.

He did what he liked.

If we didn't like it, we could confine him to quarters.

He holds a school record for confinement to quarters.

He didn't care.

He could write his poems in his room as well as anywhere else.

That his only interest? Poetry?

Well, that and, uh, and riflery.

He was very good with rifles.

You know that.

I know.

And industrial arts.

You mean shop work?

Metal shop.

Actually, it was a teacher he was interested in.

A woman teacher named Honor Thompson.

She taught welding and soldering, things like that, in public school.

And then she would come up here one day a week.

Actually, she was a very unusual woman.

She was an artist.

She made things she called constructions.

That one, for instance.

Well, that's beautiful.

Hmm. I don't know much care for abstraction.

But she was a real artist.

You know, that might be the link.

An abstract artist and a poet lost in the military school.

What about an adolescent boy and a woman teacher?

Doubt it. She was an attractive woman, but she was ten years older than he was.

And then there's the matter of opportunity.

A military school campus isn't exactly Lover's Lane.

Where can I find her?

I wish I knew. She stopped teaching here about two years ago.

I checked the board of education, but they'd lost touch with her too.

You think she might know where he is?

Well, somebody does. And I don't.

Yet.

Lovely, isn't it?

Yes. Do you know the artist?

They're signed.

Honor T.

I mean the full name and address.

Well, I'm afraid...

Don't be. Just give me the Flaman name and address.

Here or at headquarters. Suit yourself.

Why can't I talk to that Wells girl?

The one who knew Tony at juvenile hall.

Ellen Wells.

I can't talk to her because you can't find her.

That Flaman parole officer should have started looking for her the first day she failed to report.

Parole people advise a general alarm for both of them.

Ellen and Tony Emmons.

That's a brilliant idea. Missing boy with rifle.

Mentally disturbed sniper at large.

To panic the city and panic the boy.

Any other great ideas?

Well, don't just sit there.

I keep remembering you're a cripple. Just like you told me to.

Funny, you're the one who forgets it.

So I'll remind you, you're a cripple, chief.

You can't do it all yourself anymore. You have to lean on me and Eve and Mark.

So you feel sore and frustrated.

But that's the way it is.

Well, take it out on whoever it was that shot you.

Anyway, you weren't all that perfect when you had legs.

Ed!

Ed!

Ed!

Are you all right, chief? You look beat.

Of course I'm all right.

Can't a man indulge in a little serene contemplation?

Where were you this afternoon?

Don't you know the only excuse for absence from duty is...

Yes, I know. I was doing some art galleries.

On the city's time?

I found a delightful sculptress.

Anna Thompson, remember?

What about her?

She has her own studio now.

A place called The Forge in Sausalito.

And then you say, congratulations, good work, officer Whitfield.

Consider it said.

You know, I don't have to be a policeman.

I could be in Santa Barbara right now,

swimming with a Stanford man, one of several.

Ever wish you were?

All the time, chief.

Now, that's a lie.

Isn't it?

Is it?

Good night, chief.

Good night, officer.

Eve, advice from someone who's been there.

The price you pay for your badge gets higher every year.

Thank you.

Mark.

Mark.

Yeah.

Sleep.

Sleep that knits the raveled sleeve of care.

You know where that's from?

I take a vocational course.

You know what it means?

It means you want to go to bed.

Well, you missed your chance again, Mark.

You could have dropped me on my head the day before payday.

Of course I remember, Tony.

He was my friend.

I didn't have many friends, and neither did Tony.

And yes, I knew that he had gotten out of juvenile hall.

But he hasn't been here.

I haven't seen him.

How did you know he was out?

He wrote to me.

About a month ago, about two months ago.

I thought he'd come to see me, but he didn't.

Well, if he does...

I'm sorry that he hurt you.

I'm sorry for all of the bad things he's done.

But I am not going to help you to put him in a cage.

My mistake.

I'll see you at the funeral.

Wait.

What did you say?

It won't be your fault.

You won't even be involved.

Involved in what?

I thought you were his friend.

I am his friend.

I am his friend.

And that means that I will not help you to put him in a cage.

Does it mean you're going to leave him out there?

A boy with a rifle who's tried to kill lately and may again?

Or may not.

Are you ready to take that chance?

Help me.

Maybe I can bring him in.

Maybe he will go into a cage, but he won't die.

Is it up to you?

It's my case.

But if I can't handle it, the department will take over.

They'll get out a general alarm.

Wanted.

Tony Emmon.

Description such and such.

And a picture.

That doesn't say kill him.

At the bottom in black tight.

This boy is armed and believed desperate.

Approach with caution.

Suppose a policeman spots him.

Calls to him somewhere in the street.

Does he come quietly?

All right, the policeman says stop.

Does he stop?

No.

No, I agree with you.

He keeps going.

The policeman has a wife and children and a responsibility to the public.

He fires a warning shot.

Tony keeps moving.

Maybe he's got his rifle.

Maybe he's only heading for it.

Maybe the policeman only thinks so.

Then it happens.

No.

They mustn't.

But they will.

One boy, badly confused, frightened against 1,500 armed policemen.

Maybe some police will die along the way.

Maybe a few civilians.

But in the end, it has to happen.

All right.

If I hear from...

You've got to help us find him.

If you want him to live, you've got to.

Oh, thank you.

Hello, ladies and gentlemen.

Introducing tonight, Miss Margaret Morris and her concerto for cymbal.

Bravo!

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.

She's done.

She has started.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...

Bravo!

Now she's finished.

Yes.

Tony would have loved this.

Oh, it's just nonsense, but it doesn't pretend to be anything except nonsense.

Oh, whistling in the dark, I see the lights all over town, and I keep walking up and down, that's why I'm whistling in the dark.

Whistling like a lark, my song goes floating on the air, I envy every loving pair, that's why I'm whistling in the dark.

Who knows what I am saying in my song?

Yes.

Who knows that I am praying someone will come along?

Oh, hello there, how do you do?

Floating in the park without a single thing to do, the night is black and I am blue, that's why I'm whistling in the dark.

Hey hey, Jane Jane, my laudy lord Jane Jane, I'm gonna buy Jane Jane three mockingbirds, Jane Jane, one for to whistle, Jane Jane, one for to sing, Jane Jane, one for to do, Jane Jane, a most lean little thing, Jane Jane, Jane Jane.

Hey, hey, Jane Jane, my lordy lord, Jane Jane,

I'm gonna buy Jane Jane three hunting dogs, Jane Jane,

one for the run, Jane Jane...

No, not Tony.

One to talk to, Jane Jane, when I go out, Jane Jane, Jane Jane.

Hey, hey, Jane Jane, my lordy lord, Jane Jane,

I'm gonna buy Jane Jane three muley cows, Jane Jane,

Jane Jane won the plumber coin.

Let's face it, I'm no swinger.

Yeah, just a long film of the Statue of Liberty.

With nothing moving.

Oh, but just wait. The best part's coming.

In the end, a bird flies by.

Yes?

Chief Ironside?

Yes.

It's about him, Tony Emmons.

Do you know where he is?

Not right now.

Where he's been living?

Where?

I can't tell you that.

You may have to.

Mark.

All right, Mark.

If either of you touches me, I won't ever tell you anything.

And you can't make me. You can only put me in jail.

I want you to tell me something.

What's going to happen to him if he gives himself up?

Well, that's not up to me.

He'll be shut up someplace, won't he?

Yes.

For a long time?

Maybe.

Maybe forever?

Maybe. But if he doesn't come in, he'll be killed.

I know.

Maybe I have no right to tell you this.

Maybe I have to.

I'm not going to let you do this.

I'm meeting him in half an hour.

Where?

He might talk to you if you went alone.

No reason for him to be afraid.

Where?

After all, you are in a wheelchair.

You will go alone.

Because if anybody's with you, he won't be there.

I'll be alone.

Where?

The Webb-Rady Clinic reception room.

Thank you, Ellen.

I didn't give you my name.

Thank you anyway.

Who is she?

Ellen Wells.

Hey, you could get us arrested.

Why not?

Here.

You sure?

She said alone, Mark.

Ellen!

Ellen!

Ellen!

Tell me!

Mark, get me out of here.

Mark.

Mark!

What is it?

You out of ice again?

No.

Now, sit down.

I just wanted you to know you've done a good job.

You mean you had to wake me up to tell me that?

And you're talking like it was over.

As if it's over.

Also, I hear you're working hard at school.

Then it is over.

As of first thing tomorrow morning.

Why?

I got away.

30 feet from me.

Any rookie fresh out of the academy could have grabbed him.

Didn't need brains, didn't need experience.

All it needed was legs.

Yeah, you blew it.

Went to a clinic for help.

That's what he should have done.

I scared him away.

Now he's out there confused with a rifle where he can lay his hands on it.

Because of you.

Because I didn't know when to quit.

Now, ain't it awful?

Yeah, it is awful.

But beautiful, man.

Don't you call me.

Only school's a drag, man.

What I mean, a real drag, baby.

Nobody's telling you to quit.

And nobody has to.

Now, maybe I was going to quit anyways.

I don't know.

Only, only way I figured.

As long as you kept going, baby, I had to.

Now, quit.

I'm about ready to go home.

You quit, I quit.

And we both go home.

What makes you think I'm quitting?

You said.

I said, I said.

I must have been drunk.

Yet I am out of ice.

Here, get me some ice and go back to bed.

What, are you going to stay up and talk all night?

Can I help?

Relax, man.

What's your blood type, chief?

You going to tell my insurance company?

Well?

Honor Thompson just called.

She was a little hysterical.

Tony called her.

He saw you last night and he has an idea she's helping you find him.

He, uh, he threaten her?

Not exactly.

He wants to meet her tonight, if she's alone.

I, uh, got to talk to her first.

She won't do that.

He may be watching.

And if he sees her with you again, well, he may go over the edge, she thinks.

She's probably right.

I want to see her around noon.

But you just said.

He doesn't have to know I'm seeing her.

If he's watching her.

There are ways.

I didn't say it would be easy.

You know, if there was a meter on this chair, I'd be a rich man.

Mark, in our busy workaday lives, we can all benefit from a few moments outdoors.

In serene contemplation.

Now, what does that mean?

I know it means shut up and keep pushing.

You figure Tony might be out here?

Is that what we're doing, looking for him?

That right, officer?

Officer?

Don't look back.

In your own well-chosen phrase, shut up and keep pushing.

I won't tell you that.

I haven't asked you.

You'd have people there waiting.

You bet we would.

Tony would sense them.

That's why I want you to meet him alone.

I want you to get him to come to your place.

I won't be there when the two of you arrive.

You won't be there?

I'll get there later.

Well, how will you know when to come?

You will give me a signal.

Signal?

With Tony sitting right next to me?

How?

By doing nothing.

But, but he won't even let me use the telephone.

I said by doing nothing.

You'll call me every half hour until you're at the forge with Tony.

All right.

Mark.

Sure, shut up and keep pushing.

Hello?

Are you Ironside?

Uh, can you do me a favor?

Sure.

Sure, I'll tell her you're not here.

No, tell her I am here.

That's funny.

You know, most guys prefer if I...

Okay, okay, okay.

He's here, lady.

Goodbye.

Would you bring my drink here, please?

Thank you.

Say, you can do me another favor.

Sure, what do you want?

We're alone.

Take off that silly hat.

Yeah?

Yeah, he's still there, man.

He's here.

I don't think he's ever gone home.

Is Mrs. Ironside?

Well, thank you very much.

Say, would you mind telling me what's going on?

I take it you're not married.

Oh, not at the moment.

Hmm.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Did we let him go in there alone?

He said that if...

Never mind what he said.

A man in a wheelchair could get...

No, he's not a man in a wheelchair.

He's Ironside in a wheelchair.

If we go in to rescue him, then he is a man in a wheelchair.

All right, Tony, let's talk it over.

Tony?

Tony!

Tony!

It happened so fast.

Yes?

When he came in the door, he was shivering, and I asked him if I couldn't make him some...

Some tea.

And he said yes.

And I...

And I went in...

I went in to fix it for him.

And when I was putting the water on...

You heard the shot?

Yes.

He started to write a note, to whom it may concern.

Oh, Tony.

Oh, poor Tony.

Poor Tony never got a chance to finish his note.

To whom it may concern, that's all he wrote.

I wonder what interrupted him.

Oh, well, maybe he thought I was...

I was coming back.

You'd gone to make tea?

Yes, I'd gone to make tea.

All right.

I've never seen an unfinished suicide note before.

When a man kills himself, he controls the time of his death.

Was Tony left-handed?

Why?

Well, a pistol's an ambidextrous weapon.

A rifle's no good for lefties.

The bolt's on the wrong side.

What's the difference if he was right-handed or left-handed?

Tony was shot in the left temple.

It's pretty hard to do right-handed.

On the other hand,

the left temple is just where you'd hit somebody

if you were across the table from him.

He looked up from his writing, and you shot.

I always figured Tony fired those shots at me.

Trouble with believing what isn't so

is you keep asking yourself questions you can't answer.

Question.

Did Tony leave the rifle with you when he went to, uh, juvenile hall?

He was going to kill you when he got out.

But they changed him up there, didn't they?

They murdered him, killed his personality.

And when he came out, he didn't want to kill anybody.

All he wanted to do was to settle down, get a job, and forget it.

So you did it for him.

He was somebody when you put him in there.

Unusual, a free soul.

But when he came out, he was nothing.

Nobody.

And?

He had a girl.

That didn't matter.

Didn't it?

I think it mattered more than anything else.

Tony was 17 when he went up, and you were 30.

When he came out, he was 20, and you were 33.

And he'd discovered there were better things in life

for a man of 20 than an older woman.

You are disgusting.

I thought she was rather pretty.

And very young.

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Are you all right?

I'm fine.

My cane will never be the same, though.

You'll pardon my asking,

but what in the flaming blazes were you people doing here?

We're off duty.

We happened to be in the neighborhood.

And thought we'd drop by.

Congratulations, Chief.

For what?

For finding out who shot you.

If I'd found out on Friday,

if I'd found out on Wednesday, that boy in there'd still be alive.

Well, let's get out of here.

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