Original subtitles

What's the problem, Peggy?

It's just a simple letter.

I'm trying to figure out how to phrase your simple letter

so that you don't get sued for libel.

Yeah, well, don't make it too tactful.

Jerry!

Hiya, Peg.

Is, uh, Joe in?

Mm-hmm.

With his nose in the football scores.

Joe, Jerry Henderson's here.

Jerry!

Hiya, Joe.

Everything okay?

Yeah, sure.

I was, uh, driving by,

and I thought I'd just stop in and say thanks.

For what?

Some clients wanted a private investigator,

I recommended a pretty good one I happen to know.

Oh, Joe.

No, I was scraping bottom.

65 bucks in the bank.

So, uh, muchas gracias for four paying clients.

Forget it. Hey, how is Helen?

Oh, great.

When I'm working, she's smiling.

She wants you to come over for dinner.

You know, I could use a home-cooked meal.

Well, how about Wednesday?

It's a date.

- See you Wednesday. - Right.

So long, Peg.

Oh, uh, don't let that gumshoe exploit you.

Do I have a choice?

Wednesday you've got a date.

Cancel it.

With a girl.

Win a few, lose a few.

Well, I guess my Wednesday night is free.

What?

Nothing.

Did Jerry mention anything we can go on?

No, he was tapped out.

He just stopped by to thank me for steering a few

peephole cases his way a couple of weeks ago.

You know, maybe he wasn't a born winner,

but... it wasn't because he didn't try.

I really liked that son of a gun.

Guys in your end of the business rub a lot of dirty elbows, Joe.

What do you mean by that?

Well, you said yourself he was tapped out.

Maybe opportunity knocked,

he opened the door for a little extra cash.

Dan, Jerry didn't open that kind of door.

We never know, Joe, even about people we like.

Anyway, I'm gonna go check his books.

You want to tag along?

No.

No, somebody's got to tell Helen

her husband isn't coming home for dinner.

20 years.

You think you'll get used to it.

You-you watch him load his gun every morning,

and you think you'll get used to it,

but you don't.

All you do is you-you wait for one night someone to come in

and say, "He's dead.

He was working on a case, and it killed him."

Helen...

if, uh, if there's anything I can do...

No, Joe.

I'm all right.

I'm just, uh, tired.

That's all.

Forgive me, Helen, but, uh...

did Jerry ever say anything about anybody gunning for him,

uh, somebody that was out to even a score,

or maybe a case he was working on that went wrong?

He kept his cases in the office.

He said that that's where they belonged.

If I could lie down, maybe I could,

maybe I could sleep.

Would you like me to stay with you till your sister gets here?

Oh, no.

Thanks, Joe.

Hey, you got things to do.

Don't worry about me.

Helen...

whoever did it, I promise...

Joe, please, no.

Now, I don't want you to get hurt.

Remember, if there's anything... anything.

Have you got them, Peggy?

Here they are, Joe.

The four cases you turned over to Jerry.

Not much, are they?

Not enough to get killed for.

Extortion, a two-timing husband,

small-time pusher and a guy with a loan shark on his back.

Definitely not much.

You tried to help Jerry, Joe.

It's nothing to blame yourself for.

Yeah, four cases I didn't want,

so I sloughed them off on Jerry... charity day.

Charity day, suddenly, one of them jumps up and boom,

he's in pieces and Helen's out a husband.

Didn't have to be one of the cases you turned over to Jerry.

A cop, public or private, has enemies.

Yeah, but most of them don't wire a bomb to your ignition.

Which one of these cases called first for my services?

The extortion... A Mrs. Diane Glover.

Beautiful.

I wasn't in enough trouble, now I'm mixed up in a murder.

Beautiful.

You may not be mixed up in it at all, Mrs. Glover.

I'm just running down the things

Jerry Henderson was working on when it happened.

Oh, I'm mixed up in it all right.

$5,000 worth.

Payoff?

Yeah, payoff.

What were you being blackmailed for?

What is anybody ever blackmailed for?

A mistake.

Look, Mr. Mannix, I'm married to a man

who right now is dean of a university.

And in a month, he may be president of that university,

and there's nothing in this world

to stop him from getting it,

except one little item.

Your mistake.

My mistake.

Far away, long ago... my mistake.

13 years ago.

I was 17 years old and crazy about making it as an actress.

I was dead broke.

Oatmeal for dinner.

That's how broke.

So I...

I grabbed anything... to survive.

The "anything"...

well, it, uh...

it took place in a small, dirty studio,

with a...

with a bed in the corner.

And the cameras kept grinding away

for maybe an hour and a half.

So I-I ate.

I survived.

The film was never released.

At least, uh, not in a theater.

But somebody had the negative,

and somebody knew that I'm now Mrs. Glover.

And the asking price is $5,000.

And, uh, Jerry Henderson made the contact.

So he said.

He was supposed to deliver the film to me tomorrow,

and I was, uh, I was going to...

I was going to sit here in this room with a...

with a bottle of chilled champagne

and watch that piece of celluloid burn.

Well, uh, who did you make the... film for?

You didn't ask the producer's name,

or whether he'd ever won an Oscar or not.

Well, uh, thank you, Mrs. Glover.

If Jerry Henderson found him and had it all set up,

I'll catch up to him.

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

If you find him, step on him.

He'll probably go squish.

You know something, Joe?

It takes me longer to get into a bathrobe

than out of a costume.

Bobbi, I need help.

Oh, who doesn't, Joe?

I've got a client that was once an actress.

Yeah?

Tell me, tell me.

She famous?

Not exactly.

She made a film once, in color... blue.

Oh, skin flick.

They're all over town, Joe.

Yeah, and the guy she made it for is willing to sell it

for five grand, and she's willing to pay.

Why?

She having her own film festival or something?

Oh, the guy she's married to

is about to become the head of a big university.

Aha.

So she did all right for herself, huh?

Apparently, the guy she made this film for

has been in the business at least 13 years.

And my guess is he's still in action.

Hey, Joe, some of these guys

have been around a long, long time.

With, uh, blackmail as a little sideline?

You're right.

That is a little bit illegitimate.

Oh, uh, 13 years, blackmail and blue movies.

Oh, I'd say that this guy's got

to be living pretty high, right, Bobbi?

I mean, he ought to be a real fat cat.

For sure.

Okay. Let me think.

It's not Manny, no.

Gypso.

Who?

Gypso Martin.

I did a quickie for him once.

You know what I got? A bum check.

But the guy really spends, Joe,

spends much more than he makes producing movies.

Uh, you're sure about this blackmail?

This is not a nice man, Joe.

He would squeeze the last nickel out of his own dead mother.

And, uh, where would I find this Mr. Martin?

Uptown, when he's home.

Usually, he's at a trap he calls a studio.

Which is where?

408 Shamrock.

Get everything, Charlie.

Right, Lieutenant.

What did Gypso have to do with Jerry Henderson?

He was blackmailing one of Jerry's clients.

Say, Dan, what happens to all this film?

Nobody claims it, we burn it.

Somebody claims it, we've got a suspect.

Or a dirty old man.

You know, Joe, the only way this makes sense is,

whoever dumped Martin into that vat had to hate him pretty good.

He also had to be pretty strong.

From the looks of the scuff marks on the floor,

he didn't go into that vat without a fight.

Any of your clients that muscular, Joe?

Not the one he was blackmailing.

And who was he blackmailing?

A kid who used to eat oatmeal for dinner.

Mrs. Forsythe?

Hi.

If I remember correctly, Mr. Mannix,

the last time we met, I got the distinct impression

divorce cases were beneath you.

Well, I, uh, was a little overworked at the time.

And now?

I'd be more than happy to handle your case,

Mrs. Forsythe, if you still want me.

I'm sorry, but I'm perfectly satisfied with Mr. Henderson.

It was in all the papers.

What was?

Jerry Henderson was killed yesterday.

Killed?

Murdered.

I saw him only last Monday.

Mrs. Forsythe,

how far had he gotten with your case?

Mr. Henderson, uh,

discovered that my dear, devoted husband

keeps a penthouse apartment at 621 Canterbury Way,

under the name of Markel.

621 Canterbury.

Mr. Mannix,

what I want from you is proof

that my husband is not only unfaithful, but dishonest

and untrustworthy.

That could put a stockbroker out of business.

It could also make a judge more amenable

to a dissolution of my marriage on,

shall we say, a more suitable arrangement?

Mm.

Well, uh, it would help

if I knew something about your husband's habits, Mrs. Forsythe.

There's not much to tell.

He's an early riser because of the market.

At night...

Well, that's something else again.

At least every Monday and Thursday night

from 8:00 to midnight.

What happens then?

He plays poker with the boys.

Only the boys don't know about it.

Going, darling?

Heavy schedule tomorrow, sweetie.

Does she wait up for you?

Who?

Mrs. Forsythe, darling.

Oh.

Well... does she?

Any complaints?

Uh-uh.

Fun and games is all.

Next week, same time?

I'll be right here.

Mr. Forsythe?

Mr. Markel?

Do I know you?

The name is Mannix.

That doesn't tell me very much.

I'm a private investigator, employed by your wife.

Oh.

Have I been investigated very long?

I was hired this afternoon.

Oh, you're very efficient, Mr. Mannix.

Oh, there was another man on the job before me.

My wife must be spending a lot of money to get rid of me.

Well, it takes money to make money.

Could we discuss this someplace?

Any place you say.

Are you familiar with the San Tropez?

About a mile west of here?

Perhaps we could have a drink...

and reach a gentleman's agreement?

Fine. I'll follow you.

Afraid I'm gonna run out?

Where can you run?

That's true.

You lead a dangerous life, Mr. Mannix.

Well, he wasn't gunning for me.

It's a lucky thing you were there, Mr. Mannix.

It wasn't exactly luck.

Mr. Mannix is a private investigator hired by my wife.

Oh.

Mr. Forsythe,

have you any idea who'd want to kill you?

Well, if my wife is capable

of hiring a private investigator, she probably...

No. No, she wants you alive... and squirming.

But I don't have any enemies.

Oh, there are a few people who may not particularly like me,

but murder?

Jonathan never hurt anyone.

I'm afraid my wife wouldn't agree to that, Susan.

As I told you earlier, Mr. Forsythe,

I was the second investigator.

The first was a man named Jerry Henderson.

He was murdered,

and he was working on a blackmail case, and, uh,

last night, the blackmailer was murdered.

What connection do I have with them?

Someone just tried to kill you.

Why?

Well, so far,

the only connection is that you were involved

in one of the cases Jerry Henderson was working on.

And so far, that seems to be enough to get you killed.

Well, what do you suggest I do about that, Mr. Mannix?

Uh, for a few days, I guess,

we'd better keep you out of sight.

What do I do about my wife?

I'll, uh, call her

and give her a plausible story.

She's believe anything... bad.

My apartment's upstairs.

Peggy?

Peggy?!

Oh, I wasn't asleep, Joe. I...

You should have been home hours ago.

Oh, it's okay.

Toby's spending the night with...

Oh, I have a houseguest for a couple of days, Peggy.

Jonathan Forsythe, my secretary, Peggy Fair.

Mr. Forsythe.

I'll try not to be too much of a nuisance.

Uh, Peggy, button up the office

for a couple of days, nobody in or out, huh?

Right, Joe.

The bar and kitchen over there, and the guest room is

at the top of the stairs on the left, and I'm in the right.

Maybe I better check into a hotel.

I hate to impose.

Oh, the room service is excellent here, Mr. Forsythe.

Thank you.

Speaking of room service, how about some coffee?

Fine.

Fill me in on what happened.

Well, I was questioning him,

and, uh, suddenly out of nowhere,

came a car and tried to run him down.

Just because he was cheating on his wife?

Yeah, it is a little extreme, isn't it?

Joe, I have a theory.

Go ahead. I could use one.

Well, all of Jerry's cases...

Extortion, dope,

adultery, loan sharks...

Yeah.

I guess, I did deal him a pretty sleazy hand.

I think it's a psycho.

Who's doing the killing?

- Mm-hmm. - Why?

Well, the cases are sleazy, and the people are sleazy.

It's as if they're being punished for being sinners.

Or it could be

that somebody is setting it up

so that it would look like the work of a psycho.

I suppose so.

Someone that found out about all of Jerry's cases.

What about Forsythe?

Do you think he's safe to hide here?

Safe as anyplace.

What do you do now?

Well, there's, uh,

always one way to flush out a killer.

Uh, set a trap.

What's the bait?

Me.

Anything happen?

Well, I spent the day putting out the word

that I was taking over Jerry's cases.

Now we'll just have to wait till it sinks in.

How's our guest?

He's fine.

- Oh, Lieutenant Ives called. - When?

Mm, about 2:00.

I told him, Joe.

Told him?

I told him you were setting yourself up

in a shooting gallery.

What did he say?

Nothing printable.

Joe, I didn't sleep a wink.

I mean, advertising for a bullet like that.

Stop worrying, Peggy. I'll make Medicare.

Look, at 6:00, I want you to put a shroud on that typewriter

and go home to Toby, huh?

I'll take care of Forsythe.

I could stay the night, Joe.

I can't afford the overtime.

We'll somebody should be here.

Peggy, anybody that can afford to pay the rent

on two establishments ought to be smart enough

not to open the door to strangers.

Now, I'll tell him.

What if they shoot their way in?

That's exactly why I don't want you here.

Now, third case.

Anton Wojeska.

Daughter OD'd,

owns a short-order place on South Third.

Mr. Wojeska?

Jenny, take care of the customer.

I'm not hungry. Thank you.

My name is Mannix.

You called me a couple of weeks ago,

and I recommended a private investigator named Henderson.

Yes, so I hired him.

Something's wrong?

Can we talk?

In the back.

Sit down.

Thank you.

You, uh, want some, uh, cream, sugar?

Uh, black is fine.

How, uh, how come I don't hear from Henderson

a whole week already.

Because he's dead.

A bomb in his car.

It was in all the papers.

Papers?

I don't read so good.

My kid, she... used to read to me.

She went to school... she... she read lots of books.

A bomb?

He was a pretty nice fellow.

Mmm.

What am I gonna do now?

Would you like me to take over the case?

Well, on the telephone, you told me

that you're too busy, you know.

Not anymore.

But I don't pay you no more than I pay him, $462.00.

That's all I got in the bank.

Special rate this week, uh, no charge.

No, no. Just, I don't want no favors. No favors.

$462.00.

You get me the fella who killed my daughter.

We'll, uh, discuss the fee later.

What did Henderson say to you the last time you saw him?

Uh, did he have a lead?

No. He talked with my kid's friends

at the high school, St. Ignatius.

Came up empty?

Same, like the cops.

Do you, uh, do you have a picture of your daughter?

Sure.

Here. It's from two years ago.

She was very pretty.

Mmm.

Do you mind if I borrow this?

I want the fella that killed her.

Drugs killed your daughter.

You find him for me.

I'll give him to the police when I'm through.

Mr. Wojeska...

Five minutes, that's all.

I guarantee he don't sell no drugs to no more kids, never.

Mr. Wojeska, now you listen to me.

You let the law punish him.

Now, they don't like pushers either.

You got a kid?

No.

Okay.

You ever go in a hospital...

and the doctor say, "Is this your kid?"

and you don't even recognize her?

Her whole face is blue,

and she's lying there, just waiting to die.

That ever happen to you?

No.

Okay.

Five minutes.

I'm sorry.

I can't give him to you.

You turn your back on Wojeska?!

I'm not turning my back on you, Mr. Wojeska.

I'm gonna talk to somebody

who might know the man who hooked your daughter.

Hello, Mannix.

B.J.

Drink?

Talk.

Pick a subject.

She's the subject.

Pretty.

How old?

16 when she died... from an overdose.

Kids.

I want the name of the pusher who sold her the stuff.

Friend of yours came in one night,

Jerry Henderson,

asked the same thing.

What did you say?

I said I never answer stupid questions.

Is that a fact?

You know me, Joe, I'm ethical.

Down in the sewer.

Joe, we both work the sewer.

Except I'm trying to clean up the stink a little, B.J.

Joe, money ain't got no odor.

The pusher I'm looking for

worked the high school on the east side.

Very educational.

You handle any of that action, B.J.?

I wholesale, Joe, I don't deal to kids.

I want the name of that pusher.

No dice.

Henderson asked...

I'm demanding.

Joe, be reasonable.

Finger a guy in this trade,

they get very annoyed, nervous, you know?

They stop trusting you.

B.J.?

I know, Joe.

I owe you.

I saved that lousy skin of yours once.

You'd be in a box out at potter's field.

Nobody would have claimed you.

That's a fact.

Pay up, B.J.

The note is due.

But a small-time pusher...

Why, Joe?

What's it to you some kid overdoses?

She ain't yours.

Isn't she?

I pay up, we're even?

I don't owe you no more?

The account is square.

14 Bryland,

at the Regal Apartments,

Johnny Cleaver.

Behind you, Wojeska.

I thought I lost you.

Go home.

I can help you.

I don't need any help.

I stay... with you.

You find the man yourself.

Wait!

Two months I ain't slept.

I don't eat nothing.

I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm like crazy.

Wojeska, you've gotta trust me.

Now, please, go home.

Okay, okay.

But you call me the minute you find him,

no matter if it's day or night or night or day.

Okay?

I'll call.

Marie.

That was my kid's name.

You okay?

I have felt better.

What were you doing here, Joe?

Well, I was paying a call on a pusher,

name of Johnny Cleaver.

That was him on the floor.

I know. We've had him in several times.

Well, I was downstairs,

I heard what sounded like a fight and then a shot.

Who belted you?

I got no idea.

I, uh, came in,

thought he'd gone out the window,

but he was still in the room.

He snuck up behind me.

Lieutenant...

Everything, Charlie.

Joe, what...

why is it that-that every time we meet,

a body leaves the room?

Dan, I've got this feeling you're on a fishing expedition.

Well, the captain's jumping all over me.

I told you about the cases Jerry was on.

But there might be a connection.

Might be?

Jerry Henderson is blown up,

Gypso, the filmmaker, is drowned,

uh, an attempt on the life of another client,

and this character is murdered.

And that's what bugs me.

I keep looking for a nice, simple, plain motive,

but the whole setup looks like the work of a psycho.

Yeah, that's what Peggy said.

What?

Psycho did it.

You all right?

Yeah, I'm... I'm fine, Dan.

Well, if it was a psycho,

then it's sin that he's punishing.

Yeah, but he killed Jerry, too,

which means he's after anybody that helps the sinner.

There's a message in there for you, Joe.

Yeah, I think I got part of it tonight.

Peggy, you are a jewel.

I just may try to steal you from Mannix.

- Uh-uh. - Peggy?

Up here!

He doesn't know how lucky he is.

Sure he does... I tell him all the time.

Everything all right?

I was about to ask you the same thing.

Well, the only encouraging thing about today is that, uh,

no one ended up dead.

- Have you eaten yet? - Just a little coffee.

Joe, I'm a stockbroker.

When you deal with numbers, you have to think logically.

And fast.

The way I see it, the answer is that these crimes

are being committed

by an illogical mind.

Well, so far the psychopath theory

has invaded my secretary, the police force and high finance.

But you're fighting it?

I'm almost ready to join the crowd.

He'll fight it to the bitter end.

Well, I do have one more base to touch.

What's that?

Jerry's fourth case.

He was working for a Mrs. Fredericks

whose husband's being pressured by a loan shark.

I'm so worried, I can't sleep.

Hm. I don't think I should be talking to you.

The last man who tried to help my husband got murdered.

Next time it could be Harry.

Well, he won't be hurt, Mrs. Fredericks.

Well, that's not what those men said.

Which men?

They came at night, two of them.

They said that if he didn't pay, they'd do something terrible.

Did your husband know them?

I don't know.

He didn't tell me.

But he was frightened.

I know he was frightened.

Where can I find him, Mrs. Fredericks?

You sure nothing will happen to him?

I'll do everything I can.

I told him gambling would get him in trouble.

I told him, but he wouldn't listen to me.

He never listens to me.

Mrs. Fredericks, where is he?

Well, maybe he'll listen to you.

He's at the Santa Monica pier, the fish-and-tackle shop.

Harry Fredericks?

Mm.

Thank you.

There you are, sweetie.

- Mr. Fredericks? - Yeah.

My wife, right? She told you where to find me.

She's worried.

Broads... all they ever do is worry.

You could be in big trouble, Harry,

enough to cost you your life.

Hey, look, I don't owe a dime to nobody.

It's the truth.

I hit big yesterday on the races.

Cleaned up all my markers... and I got $700 clear.

- Mm. - Hey, uh,

the missus don't have to know, does she?

Not unless you tell her.

I look like some kind of jerk?

How about the name of the guy handles your action?

Pick one.

There's, uh, Phil...

Carl... Pauley...

Uh, there's a guy calls himself Reno,

even though he works out of Vegas.

Can you give me a lead on the muscle?

Your wife said they paid you a visit, Harry.

From out of town.

But I'm clean.

Why would they want to kill me now?

Because you're on a list.

I told you, I paid up!

I'm off the list!

♪♪

Joe, are you sure you're all right?

Yeah, I'm fine. Stop worrying, Peggy.

Is Forsythe there?

He's upstairs reading.

Good. Now, listen, I'm gonna go back

and check on the one item I may have overlooked.

- What item? - His girlfriend.

Why, Joe? I mean, why would she try to kill Forsythe?

She wouldn't; maybe she's got a boyfriend.

Come in!

Put it in the kitchen.

Well...

you're not the delivery boy.

This is Jonathan Forsythe's apartment?

The man who leases the apartment is named Markel.

M-A-R-K-E-L.

And your name?

If that's enough to get you out, it's Pauline Waverly.

Ah. That would be, uh,

P.W.

This is Jonathan Forsythe's briefcase,

isn't it?

I know. You're a detective?

- Private. - Thrilling.

All right, it's Jonathan's apartment and his briefcase.

Satisfied?

Not exactly.

Exactly what would satisfy you, Mr...

- Mannix. - Mr. Mannix?

The answer to a question.

Now, who'd be interested in killing Jonathan Forsythe?

I was wrong.

You aren't a detective; you're a stand-up comic.

But Forsythe isn't laughing.

Somebody tried to kill him yesterday.

Mannix...

are you trying to scare me out of this towel?

You can check with Jonathan, if you'd like.

He's at my place.

The number is 555-6644.

Maybe I'll do that.

Then again, maybe I won't.

Jonathan doesn't like unexpected telephone calls.

Or girls who live alone.

Oh... you've met Susan.

I've met Susan.

Well, Jonathan's very generous.

It's really perfectly normal.

Perfectly.

I mean, why be old-fashioned?

I mean, if you've got enough money...

And fortitude, baby.

Fortitude.

Mannix.

Joe, are you coming back to the office soon?

Yeah, I'm on my way now.

Something wrong?

No, nothing.

I just wondered.

Okay, well, sit tight, Peggy.

I think I've come up with the missing piece of the puzzle.

I'll be back in about, uh, ten minutes.

You did that very well, honey.

Ten minutes.

Just enough time to take care of Forsythe.

Peggy?

Afternoon, Joe.

Where's Peggy?

Oh, she's taking a nap.

Freeze, Mannix.

- Sorry, Joe. - What did you do to her?

Take a look for yourself.

Just a touch of chloroform.

She'll wake up groggy but feeling fine.

What happens now?

I've grown fond of you, Joe.

It distresses me to have you killed.

How do you explain my death here in the apartment?

I don't. Story goes like this:

Kenneth chloroformed Peggy.

You and I were kidnapped.

Mmm.

And I was killed heroically saving your life?

For which I shall be eternally grateful.

And Peggy?

Peggy?

I need her to testify that I was here.

I mean, she tried to warn me about Kenneth.

She really did.

Kenneth does the killing for you?

I wanted it to all look like the work of a psychopath.

I don't think the world's going to miss, uh,

Gypso Martin or a small-time dope pusher, do you?

Why Jerry Henderson?

He was very conscientious, Joe.

Unfortunately, he found out about all four girls.

Four?

I only got up to Pauline.

Is that what made you suspicious?

No. I never saw a man

with two identical suitcases without a reason.

I figured one of them must have had more in it

than a change of underwear.

Mm. Imagine such an intricate scheme

being upset by such a minor detail.

What's in them? Money?

Which the girls deliver from Las Vegas, Miami, New York.

Hot money, which you cool off through your brokerage firm.

- It's a living. - All right, let's go.

He's the man with the gun, Joe.

Joe?

Up here.

All right, let's go.

I have the right to call an attorney.

Make sure it's a plausible story.

Take him downtown.

Well, you sure took your own sweet time, Dan.

You said to hold up till you were sure Peggy was all right.

I said a couple of yards, not San Diego.

Well, next time, uh, spell it out, Joe.

Peggy?

Peggy?

Come on, wake up.

Oh, my head.

It's chloroform.

- What? - Chloroform.

Joe...

Take it easy.

Joe, there was a man with a gun. He was after Forsythe.

Relax.

Well, is he all right?

Forsythe? He's fine.

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure.

The police came, and, uh, they're looking after him now.

I'm so glad.