Original subtitles

Once upon a time there were three little girls

who went to the Police Academy.

And they were each assigned very hazardous duties.

But I took them away from all that.

And now they work for me.

My name is Charlie.

All right, let's not play word games.

You know what I want. Why don't you be reasonable?

You're wasting your time.

I have nothing more I want to talk with you about.

Miss Anderson. The manuscript.

How much you want for it?

It's not for sale. Neither am I.

And I'm not going to be frightened

by any more of your threats.

If something should happen to me,

I promise you that everything I found out about Moonshadows

will still reach my publisher, with instructions to forward

to the Senate Investigative Committee.

You're way out of your league, little girl.

Now, I know you got somebody working with you at Moonshadows.

I'm going to find out whoever it is, and your manuscript.

I can do it the nice way, with your help.

Or I can do it the ugly way.

Whichever way you do it, Mr. Terranova,

I can assure you you're going to wind up with a subpoena

and a lot of interesting questions to answer.

Okay. Do your number, Inga, baby.

Sorry to interrupt your pursuits of happiness

on a gorgeous day like today, Angels,

but I've had an emergency come up

that needs the feminine touch.

This one came in from my ex-wife,

along with a request for more alimony.

I didn't know you were married, Charlie.

Once was enough to convince me

that I am not monogamous by nature.

What a shame. Any children?

Ah-ah, Kelly. You know that Charlie does not like

to answer personal questions.

That's true.

However, I take no offense, Kelly.

It's just that thoughts of my marriage

tend to remind me of the fellow who woke up one morning

to find out he was dead.

It ruined what otherwise could have been a beautiful day.

What have you got for us, Charlie?

An old friend, Sabrina.

One George Anderson. A hell of a sailor.

Ship's captain until his eyesight went

a dozen or so years ago.

Now he's blind and in retirement.

We ready, Bosley?

All set, sir.

A body was found by some surfers yesterday

washed up on a south-coast beach.

George Anderson's daughter, Brooke.

Drowned in waters near Moonshadows,

one of a chain of status resorts

financed by an eastern conglomerate.

Brooke's drowning was officially recorded as accidental.

But George Anderson has reason to believe it was murder.

Why?

Brooke was an investigative journalist.

She lived at Seacliff near the resort

and she'd indicated in a letter that she wrote her father

a day before she was found dead,

that she was working on an explosive, Watergate-type story

at Moonshadows.

Subject of story, Charlie?

George doesn't know, Angels.

Brooke said in the letter

that she'd be writing him again with details.

But the second letter never arrived.

He does know that the resort director, one Paul Terranova,

was someone Brooke was frightened of.

She mentioned a second name in connection with the story,

a William Dignam, also that she was working with an informant.

William Dignam.

Could he be the informant, Charlie?

It's a possibility. You find that informant

and you'll probably find the key to the case.

Bosley will give you your covers.

Take care, Angels.

If Brooke Anderson was murdered

by someone connected with Moonshadows,

you'll be combing dangerous territory.

What about you, Charlie?

Are you going to be with us on this one?

I truly would love to be with you, Angel,

but I'm anchored in on another caper.

Twice as hard as the usual affair.

Double trouble, you might say.

Now, that's a foxy lady.

Dale?

Right.

I'm Jill Munroe, the fill-in instructor.

Yeah, I've been expecting you.

The front office told me you've been working Vegas.

Yeah, I was teaching at Caesar's and the Hilton.

A couple of ranches in Arizona before that.

Let me give you a tip.

People around here don't like a lot of questions.

So the fewer you ask, the better off you'll be.

The boss' wife.

She's, uh, here for her tennis lesson.

Say, see Manny in the tennis shop.

He'll give you a rundown on your duties.

The way you look, you shouldn't have any problem at all

putting smiles on the faces of those dirty old men

who come down here

to "straighten out their backhands."

Thanks.

I'll see you.

Excuse me, my dear.

You are one of the pros, aren't you?

You guessed it.

And you want to straighten out your backhand, right?

Why you must be a mind reader, girl.

Name's Harvey. Harvey Sunday, from Phoenix.

I'm in ladies' lingerie.

"Sunday's Undies," we call them.

Now, we can hit a few

or we could discuss my game over a gin fizz at the bar.

Either way, I'm a big tipper.

And I just bet with that golden personality of yours,

you know just about everything that goes on around here.

I knew you'd be here, didn't I?

Right.

Let me tell you about my new line I'm manufacturing.

You know I call them "Harvey's Candy Panties."

I'm still going through the personnel files.

Kitchen, laundry, housekeeping, bellmen,

the service departments. We've covered them all.

We're running a security check on every guest, staff member

and employee.

We're bound to turn up something soon,

some connection to the Anderson girl.

I'm sure of it.

Angelo, if you don't,

you're going to be back in Chicago

pounding a beat.

Taking nickel and dime grafts to feed your kids.

I want some results, and I want them fast.

Koslo.

What did you find in the apartment?

Well, I used the keys from her purse to get in

and went over everything.

These were beside a typewriter in the apartment.

This is Braille.

Brooke Anderson wasn't blind.

So who was?

It's addressed to a Mr. George Anderson

on Pacific Coast Highway.

Might be her brother, or her father.

This might be what we're looking for.

The County Center for the Blind.

Take them there. Get them translated.

All right.

Take it easy, Inga.

Mr. Terranova.

Mr. Terranova.

You are wanted in the cocktail lounge.

Mr. Terranova?

Yeah.

Hi. I'm Kelly Garrett.

I'm on assignment from Fashion Daily.

Photographer.

I'm sure you've seen my stuff.

Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Mademoiselle.

I've been working out of New York mostly,

but this is my second trip here,

and I'm really getting turned on by the California sun.

I hope so.

I'm sure I must have seen your work someplace, Miss Garrett.

Doctor, why don't you give the nice lady your chair?

We can discuss our business later.

Yes, of course.

I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something.

No, no, no. The good doctor doesn't mind.

Besides, you're much more attractive than he is.

Come on, sit down.

Thank you.

Well, what can I do to help you?

Well, I was told you were the man to see

if I wanted to do a photo layout here.

That's right, I'm the man.

But we got a little problem with photos right now.

I'd be happy to have you check my credentials.

No, no, you see, we have a board of directors to contend with.

Any publicity has got to be okayed by them.

I'm not sure I understand what the hassle is.

I just finished doing La Costa,

they couldn't have been more cooperative.

Is that right?

I got a good idea.

Why don't you relax and you enjoy the facilities

for a day or so?

And in the meantime, I can talk to the board of directors.

See if I can get you a go-ahead.

Of course, I can't promise you anything.

I'd appreciate anything you could do.

I have a deadline to meet

and an editor who'll hang me by my thumbnails if I blow it.

In the meantime, I'm sure you won't mind

if I snap a few preliminary shots of you and the grounds.

Hey, Miss Garrett.

You hard of hearing or something?

I told you no photographs until I sanction it.

Now like I said, why don't you relax,

and enjoy our facilities, with my compliments?

As a matter of fact, you look a little tense right now.

Why don't you start in at the health spa?

Inga, why don't you give the pretty lady a massage?

Inga's the best.

I promise you.

All right. Why not?

I'm just sorry you're so camera shy.

Maybe you'll give me a private sitting

when we get to know each other better.

Maybe.

Okay. Let's see how good you are.

Thank you.

Another magazine snoop.

Bug her room.

Get the operators to log her calls,

and get a maid to go over her luggage.

If she gets out of line, or asks too many questions,

I want her reservation cancelled.

Mr. Anderson?

Oh, I thought I heard someone at the front door.

Doorbell doesn't work too well, and I'm too lazy to fix it.

George Anderson.

Sabrina Duncan, Mr. Anderson.

Charlie Townsend asked me to come by to see you.

Oh, yes. Good old Charlie.

I appreciate that.

Well, we'll be doing everything we can

to investigate your daughter's death.

I know it's a difficult time for you,

but I was hoping maybe you could help us out

by answering a few questions.

I don't know that I can be of any help.

I've been in kind of a state of shock

ever since it happened.

But why don't we go for a walk?

I'll tell you whatever I can.

The doctor who was with Mr. Terranova,

we met the last time I was here,

and I can't seem to remember his name.

Dignam.

Right. Dr. Dignam.

You know I've been feeling a little bit run down,

and I thought maybe he could give me a B-12 shot.

Does he have an office here, or do I just ring his room?

He is not a medical doctor.

Oh, I see.

You know, I really find Mr. Terranova very attractive.

He kind of turns me on.

Have you known him long?

You should relax more and talk less.

The desk told me I was up next for a massage.

You're early.

Take that table there.

Inga here.

Oh, yes, sir. I'll be right there.

I'll be right back.

Gee, I hope I didn't interrupt anything.

I mean, did you two want to be alone?

That's very cute, Jill.

I feel like the Roller Derby was just run on my spine.

Any minute I thought she was going to start singing

"Strangers in the Night."

Ooh.

I did find our William Dignam.

He's a doctor, but not an M.D.

- Registered here? - I don't know.

Check it out if you can.

How did you do with our dirty old man?

Oh, I'm getting very strange vibes from old Harvey.

I mean, one minute he's coming on like a silver-tongued devil

whose main objective is to get my clothes off,

and the next minute, he's questioning me

as hard as I'm questioning him.

But I did get a line on who's doing what to whom around here.

Did he know Brooke Anderson?

I never could get a definite yes or no on that.

Are you sure this guy's for real?

I mean, "Sunday's Undies"?

He even showed me some of his samples.

Aw.

Anyway, I think he's kind of cute,

in a fatherly sort of way.

I'm meeting him later for a set of tennis.

Well, watch out for his racquet.

Right.

Did Bosley's computer run

on Terranova's Social Security

and I.R.S. records turn up anything?

The records date back to the late '60s.

And before that, there's no trace of his existence.

And the Social Security numbers of Terranova and his wife

are consecutive.

Social Security numbers

are assigned as applications come in.

Terranova's pushing 50.

His wife couldn't be more than 33 or 34.

Consecutive numbers are impossible,

which means false identities.

And Terranova shut me off

when I tried to snap a few photographs.

Camera shy.

He has an office in the hotel.

I want to get in, look at his files,

and see if I can find a tie to Brooke Anderson.

Well, there's a cocktail party this afternoon

for the guests and staff.

That could be a good time,

because he'd be occupied and you could get into the office.

Inga?

Oh, no. I don't think my body can take any more.

Oh, Kelly, this could be the beginning

of a very meaningful relationship.

I guess being blind has made me philosophical about fate.

Where we're all going, life in general.

Brooke's passing has made a hole in my life

that can never be filled.

But if that's God's will,

there's not a blessed thing any of us can do about it.

Mr. Anderson, you told Charlie that Brooke said in her letter

that there would be another letter following

with more about the story she was working on.

The second letter never arrived.

The first letter must have been typed in Braille, then?

- Is that right? - Yes. Why?

Well, maybe you could read it to me.

I'd like to go over it and see if there's anything in it

that could help us that you might have missed.

Nothing more than you already know.

Besides, I don't have it anymore.

It accidentally got thrown in with the trash,

and was incinerated.

How did you know Brooke's letter was typed in Braille?

I saw a Braille typewriter in her apartment.

You were in her apartment?

I went by to see if I could find anything there

to support our theory

that Brooke's death wasn't accidental.

Did you find anything?

No, the apartment had been ransacked.

Burglary?

We don't think so.

We think it was somebody looking for the story on Moonshadows.

The rest of your investigation. Can you tell me anything more?

Afraid we don't have much yet,

but we've got investigators working on it.

They're examining the Terranova possibility

and they're trying to find out who Brooke's informant was.

Mr. Anderson, I'm sure Charlie will be in touch with you

as soon as we have anything definite.

I want you to find out

what happened to Brooke, Miss Duncan.

I need to know what happened to her.

Harvey.

I'm mad at you.

You know, that's the first time I've been stood up

since I took my braces off in junior high.

Sorry, kid.

I couldn't make my lesson. Something else came up.

Oh, Harvey, was it something I said?

Nothing personal, girl. I'll give you a jingle later.

Oh, gee, am I glad to see you.

You know, I was supposed to leave this racquet in 320

for Dr. Dignam, but I missed him and the door's locked.

If you could just open up the door

and leave the racquet inside, I'd really appreciate it.

Oh, I can't do that. You'll have to see the manager.

But I don't want to go inside.

I just want to leave the racquet.

Rules are rules, ma'am.

If you leave the racquet inside

that wouldn't be breaking any rules, would it?

No, I guess it wouldn't.

If you put the racquet on the bed,

then he'll see it right when he comes in the door.

Gee, you're a lifesaver. Thank you very much.

Bingo.

Did she buy the hearts-and-flowers routine?

Koslo, you have so little faith.

For the money you're getting, Fitzgerald,

it ought to be Academy Award time.

I guarantee you she left here believing I was George Anderson.

We'd better head Miss Sherlock Holmes off at the pass.

How much does she know?

The manuscript. Braille. Terranova. Moonshadows.

She's on her way there now.

You take the cutoff road and catch her.

You want her bruised up a little or permanently damaged?

I want her dead.

Five-two-six- Paul-Charles-Edward.

Are you sure it's a tail?

From Anderson's house.

I saw it parked there.

Okay, okay. Just hold on.

I'll run a D.M.V. make.

Sabrina!

Sabrina, are you there?

Yeah, in a manner of speaking, Bosley.

Listen, that car that's been tailing you. It's leased.

It's registered to Moonshadows, Incorporated.

Yeah, well, that guy just tried to fold my car up

like a beer can.

Wait a minute!

You mean, you cracked up another company car?

That's the second one this month.

I appreciate your concern for my physical well-being, Bosley.

I'm very well, thank you,

but they're going to have to pick up the other guy

with a broom.

Look, I'm on my way back to Anderson's house

to see if he's all right.

Why don't you call the Highway Patrol for me

and report the accident, all right?

Hold it right there!

Whoa, it's me!

How did we know it was you?

How did I know it was you?

We were waiting for you at Moonshadows.

Bosley called, said you were headed here

and might need some help.

What's that smell?

Chloroform.

Anderson?

Yeah, he was here less than an hour ago.

It looks like somebody took him by force.

Took time for a search before they left.

- Brooke's manuscript? - Yeah, it has to be.

They couldn't find it, so they took Anderson instead.

Have you been able to nail anything down yet?

Oh, we found our William Dignam.

He's a Doctor of Geology,

also Seacliff County Planning Commissioner,

and very cozy with Paul Terranova.

And Charlie's contacts in Washington have confirmed it.

There is no Paul Terranova.

His birth certificate, schooling, service records,

all phonies.

Who is he?

Gerald Gallenti.

Indicted seven years ago

for fencing millions in stolen securities.

He turned state's evidence against some syndicate friends

rather than take all the heat himself.

And get this. After a little plastic surgery,

he and his wife were given new identities

and a new start in life

as part of the Justice Department's

Witness Relocation Program.

Oh, boy. Oh, that's beautiful.

That's just beautiful.

You mean, our government helps a crook start over?

They give him a clean slate, 100 percent rehabilitation,

and Terranova uses it to set up some new scam at Moonshadows.

It's got something to do with a new bay marina complex.

In Seacliff?

No, wait a minute. It can't be in Seacliff.

The only remaining coastline in the county

is protected by law 62874.

Walking encyclopedia.

Sabrina, you said Terranova

had the local police in his pocket.

The sheriff was about as subtle as a riveter.

I get it.

If the sheriff is bought and paid for,

why not Dr. Dignam, the County Planning Commissioner?

Is Bosley going to meet you at the party?

Yeah, we're going to do the fashion designer-model cover.

I thought Bosley hated that swishy designer bit?

Oh, he does. This time I'm the designer and he's the model.

Bosley?

Did you ever feel like the world is a tuxedo

and you're a pair of brown shoes?

I mean, how could my wife do this to me? How?

How could she pack brown shoes with a tuxedo?

Bosley, the party's not formal.

You're the only one here in a tux.

Oh, I thought all cocktail parties were formal.

That man you were talking to. Do you know him?

Yeah, Harold Stephens. He's a Senate investigator.

He sure acted as if he didn't know me.

Are you sure his name is Stephens?

Yeah, I'm positive.

Charlie and I worked with him

about a year ago on a fraud case.

Why?

That's funny. He told me his name was Harvey Sunday.

I'm sure he knew Brooke Anderson.

Harvey Sunday?

That's what the man said.

You know, if he's a Senate investigator...

Yeah, he could be on the same track we are.

Right.

Kelly told me to corner Terranova.

Where's Sabrina?

She'll be down in a minute.

Do you know that she takes even longer getting ready

than you do?

Now, Bosley, I've explained that to you before.

It's not the dressing time, it's the bath time.

I always like to take a long time in the bath,

because a bath makes me very logical.

Oh.

Hey, I want to talk to this man.

Angelo, take Elizabeth to the bar for a drink,

I'll meet you there in a minute.

Get yourself a brown tux.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry for interrupting, Mr. Terranova,

but I just wanted to come over and say hello.

I'm Jill Munroe, your new tennis instructor.

I heard we suddenly were booked for tennis lessons.

Now I can understand why.

You're beautiful.

Thank you.

I thought that while I was here,

we might be able to play together.

What a great idea.

Why don't we have a drink together?

We can discuss my stroke.

Okay, you're the boss.

There's a friend of mine I've got to talk to.

Don't disappear.

Oh, that's exactly what I was going to say to you.

I'll be right back.

The sheriff confirms that it was our car

that went over the canyon road,

with Spencer in it.

That attorney he was after.

Fitzgerald said she worked for a Charlie Townsend.

Yeah, I checked it out.

There's a Charles Townsend Investigations in L.A.

- A private eye. - What about Anderson?

He's in the stable quarters.

Inga's giving him a massage. He's like a clam,

but she's working on him.

Don't make a move.

It would hurt me to put a bullet through that beautiful body.

I just wanted to get to know you better.

Come on.

Where's your sense of humor, Mr. Terranova?

You know I'm sure if we sat down alone over a quiet drink

we could work something out.

Yeah, I'm going to give you that chance.

No Kelly. No Terranova.

How long has she been gone?

Too long. I mean, she should've been out of there by now.

Bosley, why don't you wait here,

see if Terranova or Kelly come back,

and we'll check his office.

Okay.

Mr. Terranova.

We got a problem at the warehouse.

Dignam is waiting.

Take the lady to the stable.

See if she's ready for a little dialogue

about who she is and who she's taking pictures for.

Mr. Terranova, I thought we were going to have

our own private little talk?

No, that's not exactly what I had in mind.

What I had in mind was to let Inga give you another massage.

Maybe some time in a room alone with her

might improve your personality.

Take it easy, baby.

I'll stay with Kelly. You take the other two.

Inga's either been massaging him

too much or it's the chloroform.

He's been incoherent.

I haven't been able to understand a word he says.

I think he fakes it all.

I can make him tell us.

There is a way to reach under a man's rib cage

to his heart muscle.

One squeeze, and he either talks or dies.

Did he say anything about the manuscript?

Claims he doesn't have it.

Says his daughter never sent it to him.

I'd like to page Mr. John Bosley

in the cocktail lounge, please.

When I first got into this, all I was supposed to do

was arrange for the purchase of the bay bottom

and the change in the bulkhead line.

That's all I was to be involved in!

Nothing like this! For me that's it.

Hey, Dignam! Hold it.

I've been paying you through the nose too long

to have you melt on me now.

Now knock off the babbling. What happened?

Well, I came out here with Schilling like you asked me to,

to check out the dredging and the moving equipment.

Somebody from the hotel followed me out here

- without me knowing it. - Stupid!

We caught him before he could leave.

- He saw the equipment? - Yeah.

And he heard us talking about the bay-fill.

- Where is he? - Well, he's in there.

That's cold-blooded murder.

There's been two killings already.

There's going to be one more if

you don't keep your mouth shut.

You get back to your office.

And get rid of your files, just in case.

Go on, get out of here!

Back up the car. Open the trunk.

We got to get back to the stables.

We can dump the body on the North Shore on the way,

we get rid of it permanently later.

Where is the manuscript?

Freeze! Don't do that! You okay?

No problem, except for some bruises from a massage.

How about you, Mr. Anderson?

Who is it? Who are you?

It's okay, Mr. Anderson.

Sabrina works for Charlie Townsend. So do I.

Can you walk, Mr. Anderson?

I think so. Listen.

Listen, we mustn't let them get to Brooke's story.

Her manuscript

You've got to tell Charlie

that Brooke mailed me the manuscript

and a note to hide it in a safe place.

They've been trying to force me to tell them.

Mr. Anderson, we'll figure that out later.

Let's get out of here first.

Sorry I don't have time for the full massage.

Maybe next time.

Terranova and some others are coming and they're headed here!

Are they armed?

I don't know and I don't want to find out.

All right, look, I told Bosley to meet us near the stables.

The horses!

Come on. The police are on their way!

Out there!

Charlie is not going to like this.

Not going to like what?

He was thinking of trading this car in!

Do you realize what bullet holes

do to the Blue Book?

- Bosley! - You are impossible!

Oh, Bosley, if we pass a market on the way home,

I'm out of whipped cream.

Harold Stephens, alias Harvey Sunday,

was Brooke Anderson's informant, Charlie.

Actually, they were trading information.

Brooke for her expose

and Stephens for his Senate investigation.

Terranova bribed Dignam, the County Planning Commissioner,

to make an illegal purchase

of bay bottom access land appear legal.

A steam roller operation, Charlie,

with a marina complex and a hotel constructed

that would've been headed for millions in profit.

All illegal.

Then when Terranova found Brooke out,

he had his Swedish Amazon do his dirty work.

Then when they penetrated Stephens' cover,

he felt he should do the job himself.

Right.

George Anderson sends his sincere thanks to you, Angels.

Well done. Um... you too, Bosley.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Well, right now, I'd better get back to the case at hand.

Oh, what case is that, Charlie?

Blond, brunette, redhead?

That's privileged information.

Bless you, Angels. I'll be in touch.

Ah, this is the best time of day, Charlie.

Sunset. Brooke loved the sunset.

She always used to say:

"A sunset could only be fashioned by the hands of God."

What's it like right now?

Like you remember it, George.

A shimmering tangerine ball,

sliding down into a sea of blue and green,

like the world's at peace.

Another beer, George?

Yeah. Sounds great.

Give me an ice cold.

And then I am going to fry you

the damndest mess of fish you've ever had. Skol!