All language subtitles for The.Rockford.Files.S04E15.iNTERNAL.BDRip.x264-LiBRARiANS

How is the book going, Jack?

It's real good.
It's a dynamite subject.

Get off of this...

(MEN SHOUTING)

Hey! Hold it!

You show your face here again,
I'll kill you.

What's going on here?

A private investigator
lives here?
You hired a snoop?

What you're trying
to print are lies.

Consider them long and hard
before you commit them
to print.

I'm supposed to consider
all this while I'm dropping
to the concrete.

I think I know a way
we can muzzle this Rockford.
Killing him?

Hey, somebody call the cops!

You all right?

(PHONE RINGING)

ROCKFORD
ON ANSWERING MACHINE:
This is Jim Rockford.

At the tone, leave your name
and message.

I'll get back to you.

(BEEPS)

MAN: Jim, I have finally
finished 12 long years
of psychotherapy

and I'm now able to tell you
just what I think of you.

Would you please call me?

WOMAN: I'm afraid you don't
seem to be hearing me,
Mr. Turkell.

I really don't need
an encyclopedia.

Oh, Mrs. Fornechefsky,
if you had any idea

how many people
tell me that and end up
with these books,

you'd be almost
embarrassed to say it.

I'm afraid not.

Just one more question,
if you will.

Our records show
that you have a daughter,
Nancy.

Now let's send Nancy
a set of these
for Christmas, huh?

Our Christmas rates
start in two weeks
and I could pre-date it.

My daughter, Nancy
died 16 years ago

when she was 18
of a burst appendix.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry.

And terribly late.

Bob, you got a minute?

One minute, Mr. Collier.

I'm out anyway, fellas.

What are you doing
here, Stan?

I got some hot business
that won't wait.
Do you mind?

What did I tell you
about coming into
my personal life like this?

You told me. You told me.
Big deal.

I'll fall down from worry.

What do you want?

I need ten grand, Robert.

Didn't my accountant
call you?

I told him no more until
we get this real estate mess
all sorted out.

Now get out of here.

Hey, I don't want you
to think of me as not
being grateful, Bob.

Get the checkbook out.
I need the cash.

What's it for this time?

Same thing.
I told you.

What?
Well, I hate to say it here,

before I announce it publicly,

because advance knowledge can
undermine the whole effort.

Are we walking about
the state senate again, Stan?

Keep your voice down,
will you?

Nothing doing. No way.

I'm not having you
run for public office
and you know why.

Bob, that's 20 years old.

Look, Stan,
we've got a disaster
with Collier Products.

I'm not gonna stand here
and take a lot of flack
about Collier Products.

That's yesterday's news.

So we pick up the pieces,
we go on.

That's what free enterprise
is all about.

Free enterprise is about
making money.

You want to take some flack,
what about Collier
Real Estate?

Did you get my letter?

You spent $20,000 last week
on local TV advertising.

Our business can't
support that.

It's for me?

You know, that's class.
That's real class.

You write the check, Bob.
I'll see what they want
at the office.

Yeah.

Hey, Stan,
is that you, really?

What are you doing
at the Lincoln
Executives Club?

When I called the number
you left, I almost fainted,
you know?

Anyway, I wanted to tell you
I think I got a nibble
on Weiler Place.

Is that why you
called me here?

For the love of God,
Jo Ann.

Guess who's interested?
Who?

JO ANN: Jack Skowron.

He said his name
was Jack McWhirter,
but it's Jack Skowron.

Remember him?

No. Who's Jack Skowron?

Well, he seemed
to want to know about you.
He kept asking questions.

Who is he?

He wrote the bestseller
in the '50s, Free Fall
to Ecstasy, remember?

I bought it,
but I never finished it.

All I remember is
it's about this guy, Rollo,

who jumps off the roof
in the first chapter

and then, like,
free associates
all the way down.

And, by the fourth chapter,
I stopped reading.

Oh, wait a minute. Wait.

This guy says
he's a friend of mine?

Well, no.
See the thing is,

and the reason I called,
was I got the feeling

that he was, like,
maybe investigating you.

Isn't that funny?

Another mortuary special.

Boy, the mortality rate
at this high school was
really something, huh?

Yeah.
Only Nancy Fornechefsky
didn't die in Vietnam.

You know, Jimbo, sometimes
I look at a statistic like
this dead Fornechefsky kid

and I say to myself,
how come?

It's a one-act drama
with an early curtain.

You know, I did a piece once
for The Saturday Review.

It was on slice-of-life
drama.

It was a pretty shrewd piece
of writing, Jimbo,

because life, and this
is worth holding onto,

life is episodic.

Full of second act
complications which
are never revealed to us,

making, in my considered
opinion, Ibsen's three-act
structure merely a device.

Don't you agree?
Hmm.

Here's a complication
that can be revealed.
What's this?

Well, the time, material,
expenses for two days
on the job.

I thought we ought
to keep this on
a professional basis.

Great. I'll initial it
and send it in to my publisher
as an expense.

Oh, you'll have
to wait a couple
of days.

Yeah, well, I'm into my pocket
a ways on this thing, Jack.

Hey, that reminds me,

did you ever get Bill Simpson
to give you my two weeks
severance

after I left Carpetown
way back then?

Yeah, I sent it to you, Jack.
Years ago.

Never got it.

'Course I was living
in the Village then.

And you did not pick up
your mail

because the loan
collectors were ten deep
at the mail box.

Jimbo, huh?
No, no, no, no.

Yeah, had to keep moving.

Live with a good-looking
little bird, clip her wings,
then move on.

Those were the days.

Did you know that
Free Fall to Ecstasy

was actually written
in four different apartments?

How's that for a vital stat?

Well, we might get
it in the Atlantic Monthly.

Yesterday's news, my boy.

Like our friendship which
has gone a cropper along
with the petty misfortunes

of one Jackson Skowron,

Pulitzer Prize aspirant
and best-selling author.

You need some gelt, huh?

Yeah. Could you just put
a rush on it, okay, Jack?

Hey, you finish
Free Fall, huh?

Well, no, no.
I've been so busy with the
interviewees on the new book.

Hey, did you get to the part
where Rollo sees the sea nymph

swimming in the sewers
of New York?

No, actually,
I'm only on page

10... Page 15.

Look, it's really hard
to get in...

I know, I know,
you're busy.

It's just that you'd think
when two guys lay carpet
together for two years

and then one of those guys
goes out and writes
a bestseller

that the other guy
would have read it
the 20 years it's been out.

Jack, let's not get back
into that, all right?

I told you,
the book was stolen
from me on the beach.

Okay.

Hey, listen,
can you drop me
at the Marina?

I want to hit
on this Meyer guy myself.

Okay, okay.
But you've got to catch
a cab back, all right?

Great. I'm just gonna change.

I don't want to get
hooked up with
the Hollywood crowd.

I don't mind
sipping a cocktail
now and then but...

I don't know, Jimbo,
the writer's life
should be contemplative.

Too many pretty distractions
translates into no words
on the paper.

You know what I mean?
Yeah, how is
the book going, Jack?

It's good.

It's real good.
It's a dynamite subject.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Tracing the John C. Fremont
High School class of '62.

The lives and loves,
the tragedy and the heartbreak

of 200 fry cooks
and hotel elevator operators.

Make light of it.
I don't care.

Obviously you're hooked up
real tight

with the intelligentsia
readership trends.

Now that's not
what I meant.

I'm not talking about
any emotional crud.

I'm not talking about
an upper middle-class
crystal palace high school.

I'm talking about
John C. Fremont High,

right in the middle
of the most depressed
area of LA.

I'm talking about
textile worker's kids.

I'm talking about
boys and girls
of grease monkeys.

Slow down, Jack.
It was just an opinion.

Slow down.
Yeah, slow down.

I am talking about
a graduating class
of 212 kids,

not counting
the Peruvian transfer student,
Juan what's-his-name.

I'm talking about a class,
70% male,

that was literally wiped out
in the Vietnamese conflict.

86.3% D-E-A-D, dead.

That's what I'm
talking about.

Well, it sounds
like a hell of a book.

The lives and love
of fry cooks, huh?

Hey, you remember
the job we did,

oh, in the hotel lobby
on Westbridge Boulevard?

I'm talking about
a bestseller, man.

Yeah, you remember
the hotel clerk...
What was his name...

He tried to hire us
to destroy the carpet
for the insurance, remember?

Gutierez.
No, no, no, no.
I think it was...

I think it was English.
It was...

The Peruvian transfer
student's name,
Juan Gutierez.

I'm talking
bestseller, man.

I mean this thing
is getting wings.

It's getting ready
to take off, Jimbo.

Right, right.

Hey, Jimbo,
can't you hang around
for a while?

Come on, Jack,
I'm no chauffeur.

Look, this Captain Meyer
is waiting for me.
Was a teacher at Fremont.

What I got to get from him
will only take a few minutes.

Then you can drop me off
back at your place.
I'll catch a cab, huh?

What do you say?
Better yet,
I spring for dinner.

All right, Jack.
How long? Really.

Ten minutes.
And I buy dinner, okay?

Okay, ten minutes.

(SEAGULLS CAWING)

(MEN SHOUTING)

All right.
Get off of this boat!

Get off of this boat!

I told you before I ain't
telling you about nothing...

JACK: Once I get
some answers!

I told you to get off...
ROCKFORD:
All right, all right!

Hey, hold it.
All right, cut it out.

Get off this boat. Off.

You show your face here again,
I'll kill you!

What's going on here?
You a friend of his?

Why?
I want him out of here
and now.

Can't take the heat, huh?

Well, it's going to get
a lot hotter, buddy,
let me tell you.

I think that's
our cue to leave.
All right? Huh?

Here. Here.

(LAUGHING)

Jimbo, I'm really sorry.

I could of sworn
I had my credit card.

It's all right.
Now, forget about the dinner.
It's my pleasure.

Come on,
I'll take you to your room.

I got to go to the lobby.

I got to get my copy
of The New York Times.

I hate LA journalism.

(RAZZING)

Give me the drama critic
from the Big Apple every time.

Yeah, well,
unless I'm mistaken,
The Times reviewer

murdered you on his review
of Free Fall, right?
Yeah.

But I'm big enough
to forget a bad notice, Jim.

That's just the way I am.

Yeah, well,
why don't we just go, okay?

I can make it.
Go back to your car.

(SIGHS)

Look, Jack, Jack,
this whole thing
just isn't working out, huh?

I mean, we're not
the same two people
we were 20 years ago.

That's right.

You haven't written
a bestseller and I have.

Puts a little space
between us,
doesn't it, Jimbo?

Yeah, quite a lot.
Quite a lot.

So, why don't we just call
the whole thing off, huh?

I'll look for your new
book in my nearest bookstore
window, okay?

Hey, you...

You dumping me, Jim?

Yeah. No. Maybe.

Look...

Jack, why don't you
call me in the morning?

We'll talk about it, okay?
Huh?

I'm with you, buddyroo.

(SINGING) Hey, hey, hey

Going to Jackson

Gonna get me a thrill

Gonna get me.

(JACK SHOUTING)

Jim!

WOMAN ON PA: Dr. Kurt,
please report to the...

Excuse me. I'm Dr. Kozoll.
Are you a relative
of Mr. Skowron's?

A friend. Jim Rockford.

I know I don't sound
too friendly,

but let's just say
there are a couple
of points in our relationship

that Jack and I
are going to have
to hammer out.

Look, Mr. Rockford,
in the absence of relatives,

I think it's very important
that someone close
to Mr. Skowron

realize just how serious
his drinking problem is.

At this juncture,
his liver is highly cirrhotic.

And, if that doesn't
fail him altogether,

he'll be looking
at some brain damage,

possible intermittent
memory loss.

I had no idea
it was that bad.

It's essential that
he stops drinking.

And to that end,
I want to keep him here
as long as possible.

He's fighting me
because he has this
book ahead of him.

I know. I'm working
with him on the research.

Then it's a problem.

Because psychologically
at this point in his life,

Mr. Skowron needs
that book very badly.

Well, I'll do
whatever I can.

But he does make it
a little tough.

And one thing you have
to remember, Mr. Rockford,

you're not going
to save his bacon.

You can't. He has to.

Apparently he's considered
a very talented
and respected writer.

Yeah, he wrote a bestseller
back in the '50s.

A thing called
Free Fall to Ecstasy.

That Jack Skowron?
Yeah.

Well, I read that book.
I read it in college.

I just didn't put
the names together.

Then you're familiar
with his talent as a writer.

Oh, yes. Well, actually,
I never finished the book.

I never got
past chapter four
where the hero, Rally...

Roland, wrestles
with his mother
in flashback.

It's Rollo.
Yes, Rollo.

Of course,
I was very busy with exams
at the time.

WOMAN ON PA: Security, please
report to nursing station
straight away.

Oh, Jimbo.

I'm glad you came.

After running out
on you last night,

I thought you'd hang up
on that nurse when
I asked her to call you.

Oh, come on, Jack,
you give yourself
too little credit.

Your impersonation
of a dish of Jell-O
had me in stitches.

Yeah, isn't that something?

From Jack Skowron,
who faced off against
the Hells Angels

when they tried
to crash the big be-in
on Long Island.

It's barrel-bottom time
in Skowron Land, Jimbo.

Oh, well, pull yourself
together and eat your farina.

I need some answers, Jack.

Who were the two guys
that jumped you?

All those years walking
on the night-time streets
of Nuevo York,

I've never got mugged, Jim.
Never. Never.

I come out here
to the Land of
The Plastic Smile

and look what happens.

I don't want to get
into that again, Jack.

And those guys
weren't muggers,

unless the standard issue
for muggers these days
is alligator shoes.

Come on, what do
you want from me, man?
I didn't interview them.

You get well soon, Jack.

Jim. Jim!

All right.
It's only a guess.

Okay, go.

Some of these Fremont alumni
I intend to write about,

they went off to Nam

and came back well,
nicely ensconced in
the Laotian drug traffic.

It's possible that...
You hit on some very
highly sensitive nerves?

Now, why didn't you
tell me about that
from the beginning?

Come on, Jim,
don't be so hard on me.

It's only a guess,
I told you.

Oh, no, no.
I'll give you a guess.

Now my guess is
that that's what this book
is really about,

the Laos connection.
Smack.

Now that's what I call
a really commercial book.

This what-ever-happened-to
thing is pure tuna fish.

That's right.

I was afraid
it'd get dangerous.

I didn't want you approaching
those people and getting
in trouble with drug dealers.

I didn't want you
to quit on me, Jimbo.

This book is gonna
shake the earth.

It lays out beautiful.

If only I could tell you
some of the ideas
I have about it.

I'm sorry.

I really am.

I got to hit the bathroom.

My kidneys really took
a salvo last night.

It's not your kidneys, Jack.
It's your liver.

You're pickling it in booze.

Oh, you been talking
to Dr. Kozoll, huh?

Don't you think
he overplays it a little?

A guy like that,
if he doesn't walk around
with a long face,

he doesn't get paid, huh?

Jack, Jack, I'm willing
to stay on this thing
for a few days.

But you're going to have
to pay me two days in
advance

and you've got to promise me
to lay off the sauce.

Yuck, yuck.
I'm serious, Jack.
Your health is shot.

I just don't like working
with somebody I got to
keep wiping their chin.

Listen, I don't have
a bad alcoholic problem.

I like to get lit, okay?

I mean, some of your big,
big-time writers, brilliant
guys, liked their liquor.

Balzac, Brendan Behan,
Hemingway,
he's the best of the lot.

He ended up
blowing his brains out, Jack.

Okay, okay. Here.

Find the locations
on these people.

I'll handle
the delicate stuff.

I'll interview when I get out
of this house of death.

Fremont High, Class of '62.
Stan Collier,
Nancy Fornechefsky,

Jeanie Winslow, Freddy Stassi,
Stan Collier?

Yeah.
Him I already have a line on.

I'm gonna see him
the beginning
of next week.

He's a local
real estate agent.

That Stan Collier?
He's no agent.

He bought into one
of the biggest agencies
in town last year.

He into smack?

I don't think so.

Some of his best friends
in Khe Sanh were heavy users.

At least that's what
my secretary in New York
tells me.

She's the one
that gave me the idea
for the book.

Went to Fremont High.
She's a great kid.

All right, I'll call you
when I turn up something.

Jimmy,

about our agreement.

The drinking.

It's very little fun
for me to eat without wine.

I guess it's all
those years I lived
in Montmarte.

I'm in good shape,

despite what doctor...

What's his name?

Oh, you mean the doctor
who told me you might have
intermittent memory loss?

His name is Dr. Kozoll, Jack.

You shouldn't
be doing that.

Why? What's the harm
in keeping up
with Bob's affairs?

Besides, there's nothing here
of much importance anyway.

I'd offer you two a drink,
but then you'd stay
for the party.

What do you want?
This Skowron.

I remember him.
He was on the police force.

He was there that night.

That was Bill Skowron.
This is his son.

Well, we'd like to know
what you've done about it

being as there is quite
a bit at stake here.

You have an amazing affinity
for the mundane, Stan.

I barely find it tolerable.

Can't you two be civil
after all these years?

We're in trouble here.

Captain Meyer called me.

Jack Skowron will
be taken care of.

Nothing too drastic, I hope.

Too drastic?
From this glass of milk?

And I'm getting pretty tired
of you treating us
like highly-paid trash, Bobby.

Well, that's exactly
what you are, aren't you?

I'd like to speak
to Jack Skowron.
Room 702.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
What? Well, did he say...

It's open.

Did he say
where he was headed?

To Malibu?

Well, of course.
Thank you very much.

(LAUGHS)

I know what you're thinking
but liquor has not
passed these lips.

You want to smell my breath?

Absolutely not.
You just remember our deal.

Listen, I thought I'd move
into the motel up the road

so we could be
in close contact on the book.

But first I thought
I'd drop in to see

if you'd like to get bloodied
at chess after 20 years.

I think I'd just love
to cream you again, Jack.

Only I've got to go
pick up my dad.

He's down
at the Masonic lodge.
Hey, great.

Maybe the three of us
could have dinner together
afterwards, huh? On me?

I have my credit card.

Hey Jack,
you don't want to check
into the motel.

You'd just hate
it down there.

Why don't you flop with me
for a couple of days?

Oh, no. It's such
an imposition.

Well, maybe, a day or two.
If you insist.

Jimbo,

you were in
the carpet business.

This stuff you've got here
is three notches
above a drop cloth.

Well, forget that.
Listen, I found out
who Jeanie Winslow is.

She's Jeanie Rosenthal.

Yeah? Who's that?

Come on,
where have you been?

Jeanie Rosenthal is Creative
International Agency's top
actor's agent and packager.

Oh.
She handles most
of the big ones.

See, I don't...
I really don't see many
English language movies.

French, well, they have
so much more humanity.

Yeah, yeah.
Good for them.

Look, I checked this out
at Fremont High School.

Now as soon as I saw
her graduation picture,
I thought I recognized her

so I checked it out
and sure enough.

Here, read this.
Jeanne Ann Winslow.
Nickname, Jeanie.

Likes pizza, beer,
Dion and The Belmonts,

splitting for Don's
after school,
Elvis, Elvis, Elvis.

Dislikes parents,
vegetables, gym class.

Occupational goal,
beautician.

Let me see that.
Maybe we can
find Collier here.

Stan Collier.
Nickname, Stomper.

Likes Chevys,
Pontiacs, Debbie,

Luckies, digging the scene
at Don's Drive In.

Occupational goal,
work in a body shop.

And he ends up with
a real estate empire.
That's not too bad.

I thought you said Fremont
was a working-class high?
So?

So? So, out of it
comes two of LA's
big movers.

I mean, not that
that's such a big deal

except these two are
a little bit low in
the aptitude department.

I mean, Stomper there
is selling real estate
to oil men from Iran

and Jeanie is partying
with Mick and Bianca.

The American system, Jimbo.

It's what Kerouac and Ginsberg
and I were groused about.

I tell you something.

Anybody can make it
in this country.

That's one good thing
you can say about it.

Yeah, yeah. I guess so.

Hey, listen, I got
to go pick up my dad.
You want to come along?

No, no, no.

I think I'll stay,
put in a call to Jeanie
Rosenthal at the agency.

I know what you're thinking.

I'm not going to drink.

Buddyroo.

(SINGING DRUNKENLY)

Hey, hey, hey
Going to Jackson

You miserable cur.

Hey, hey, hey, hey
Going to Jackson

How about Ventura?

How you guys been?
I gotta...

Mr. Skowron,
just settle down.

Just settle down, otherwise,
my friend's going to put
a sunroof in your skull.

Hey, Rob, the paper.

A private investigator
lives here?
You hired a snoop?

Hey, come on,
he doesn't know anything.
He's just a friend of mine.

That's the truth.
He's a friend.

Well, we'll just wait around
and ask him, okay.

ROCKY: If only that truck
of mine wasn't busted down.

ROCKFORD:
Yeah, it's a shame, Dad.
I'm really sorry.

But I think Jack needs
the company, you know.

Well, I think you're glad
we're going to miss the lodge
fund-raising at Oxnard,

and I think you're glad
we're going to miss
the bagpipe band, too.

Glad to miss
the bagpipe band?

After you know how much
I like music that drones?

How can you say that?

Go on in.
I'll get the groceries.

Time for information please,
Rockford.

(GROANS)

Hey, somebody call the cops!

MAN: All right,
let's get out of here.

Sonny! Are you all right?
Yeah.

Hey, hey.
They got Jack.

You all right, Dad? That's
quite a right hand I saw you
throw by air mail in there.

(GROANS) You got a little
ice in there for it?

Or maybe we ought
to call the doc, huh?

Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry.

Man, that thing hurts,
don't you know.

Get some ice, Father.

What you're trying
to print are lies,
Mr. Skowron.

Dangerous lies.

All our employer asks
in all sincerity

is that you consider
them long and hard

before you commit them
to print.

And I'm supposed to consider
all this while I'm dropping
to the concrete?

Is that it?
You wrote a whole book
about that once, didn't you?

My angle on this is the truth
and you know it.

You're not going
to get me to muzzle
myself.

It's a writer's duty
to print the truth.

God in heaven,
it's the only tool
a writer has

that isn't a gimmick
out of a bag of tricks.

Yawn.

You cynical creep.

Okay, sonny boy,
you want to push me over?
Go ahead.

You want to put me
on a non-stop down
to the curb?

Come on,
is that what you want to do?

'Cause I'm gonna
write this book.

They couldn't stop Zola.

The Pope and the Borgias
together could not stop Dante.

And for sure,
you're not going to stop me.

Oh, yes, we are.

Your friend, Mr. Skowron,
is an alcoholic, you say?

Boy, here we go.
The old torpedo, right?

Jack is an alky
so he's up to some
crazy nonsense.

You can't do anything
without more verification,
right?

Dennis, he was kidnapped.

Now, I don't want you
to put him at the bottom
of the missing persons list

and hope for the best.
I'm not.

Well then, get on it.

We have certain
procedures around here.
It's my job to go by them.

I tell you, Dennis,
it's getting where
every time...

Sposato, ride the Selectric
and take a statement.

We have a possible
kidnapping here.

Billings, I want you with me,
I'm gonna need you,

but get me a status report
on Finkel and LeMasters.

See if they're
ready to roll.

Roger.

Subject, Skowron, Jack.
Age 47,

brown on brown, Caucasian.

Last seen in the vicinity
of Cove Road, Malibu
wearing...

A blue shirt and jeans.

Taken by force
by two white males,

mid-thirties,
average height,
last seen driving a...

Blue LTD.

I'll punch that into the desk
so the black and whites
will have it right away.

Affirmative.
And when you get
done with that,

meet me at the car,
I want you with me.

Lankowsky, notify the FBI.

Dennis, I don't know
what to say.

I was kind
of half expecting...

Well, it's
a possible kidnapping.
That's what I'm here for.

You give me something
I could move on, I move.
That's all I've ever said.

Hey Sarge, a call just came in
from Newbury Savings
and Loans.

Three men with automatic
weapons have sealed up
the place,

looks like
they're holding hostages.

Well, scramble
all our robbery units.

Tell Finkel and LeMasters
to meet me at the bank.

Notify the swat team.

See who the lieutenant wants
on the negotiating team.

Lankowsky, you're with me.
Come on. I'll see
the Lieutenant right now.

Yeah, that looks good.

(PHONE RINGING)

Excuse me.
Mrs. Rosenthal, please.

ROSENTHAL: Well, you were
absolutely wrong for the part.

They left you out there
to twist in the wind.

Look, I won't shmekel you.
You're awful.

Now, if I was handling you,
I wouldn't have let you
anywhere near that disaster.

Well, when you do
want a career,
call me. Bye.

Mrs. Rosenthal?
Hi. How are you?

I hope that ditzel gets
his head on straight.

I could really do
something with him.

The Pacinos, the Hoffmans,
the ethnic types
are down the toilette.

What I need
is white bread.

There. Like that.

That's the type of face
I'm talking about.

You don't want me.

I'm white bread,
but I'm heavy on the mayo.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

I'm sorry.
I get over-animated.

Richie, get me a pack
of cigarettes, will you?

Mrs. Rosenthal,

I was wondering
if I could have
a word with you?

Go.
It's about Jack Skowron.

Skowron?
Skowron, Skowron...

That name sounds
vaguely familiar.

Free Fall to Ecstasy?

Oh, good gosh, yes.

About beatniks, right?
Uh-huh.

I couldn't get past
chapter four.

Yeah. Me, too.

Full of daddy-ohs,
hepcats.

Poor Fox got stuck
with the film rights

to that gobbler
to the tune of 50 thou.

And use the term "bestseller"
advisedly, will you?

It was one, wasn't it?

For,
if I remember the figures,
only one and one-half weeks.

It rode the crest
of the KerouaclBurroughs wave.

Also, Wuifson-Goldberg spent
a bundle on a promo blitz.

Actually, Free Fall
to whatever,

was a souffle.

Yeah, well,
my name is Jim Rockford.

I'm a private investigator.
I'm working with Jack.

Oh?

Yeah. He's in town
from New York.

And he mentioned something
about wanting to talk to you

about a book he was writing.

I just wondered
if he'd gotten in touch.

No, no.

I haven't heard
word one from him.

Having trouble
locating him, are you?

Well, just a little.

Well, you should realize,
Mr. Rockford,

that if actors are children,

writers are badly
behaved children.

Probably turn up shortly.

Well, I hope so.
Jack never does
anything shortly.

Free Fall to Ecstasy
was 1,040 pages long.

(CHUCKLING)

Spinach on my teeth?
No, no. I'm sorry,
Mrs. Rosenthal,

it's just that

for someone who

started out to be
a beautician, you have
really come a long way.

ROSENTHAL: And then he said,
"For someone who started out
to be a beautician,

"you sure have come
a long way."

Yeah, how would he
know that?

I don't know.

Freddy,
I'm so glad you're here.

This has to be
pretty important
to get me out of bed.

Where's Bob?
The maid said 15 minutes.

Running a restaurant
isn't a nine-to-five job.

I've got Stassi's II
opening in Brentwood.

I've got a chef who's
a committable psychopath.

I thought
this Skowron thing
was cleared up.

A private detective
came up to Jeanie,

wanted to know
where Skowron was.

Why would he ask her?

Because Skowron
let him in on it.

That much should be
plain even to you.

You were always
one of my favorite
people, Stan. Always.

You keep it up, Freddy.

They'll be feeding you
some of your famous cannelloni
through a hole in your throat.

We better do something.
This is starting to snowball.

All right, where's Bob?

I say forget Bob.

This is one time
the famous Atcheson money

couldn't buy him
out of a jam.

What do we do?

I've got some
contacts of my own.

I think I know a way
we can muzzle this Rockford.

What are you talking about?
Killing him?

If that's what it takes.

Look, Bob can't
even be on time
for this meeting.

I say we quit
following his lead,

get out of his house
and do it our way.

If you do that,
you'll be in
the same class as Bob.

And what class do you think
we're in now?

Look, as they say,
you only go around
once in life.

And that night
on the yacht

each of us got
the break of our lives.

When we decided
to run with it,

our fates were
sealed forever.

If we have to do something
every once in a while
to protect ourselves,

we damn well
better do it.

Hey, Dad, did Jack call?

No. I ain't heard
a word from no one.

You find out anything?

No. That agent,
she hasn't heard
from him either.

Maybe we can get
something out of here.

What is that?

Oh, his notes.

The book in
its roughest form.

He's been working on it
day and night.

What is that?
One of those
illustrated books?

He's shot, Dad.
Writer's block.

You call it
whatever you want,

he's lost his driving wheel.
That's sad.

Hey, look here.
Look, he's got himself
one of them cut-rate fares.

I could go to New York
for that price.

"Local girl dies.

"Services will be held for
Miss Nancy Fornechefsky, 18,

"who died last night
from a burst appendix.

"Friends say
Miss Fornechefsky complained
of stomach pains

"after having dinner
at a neighborhood drive-in.

"The pains subsided,
only to return much stronger
in the evening

"while at a party.

"Miss Fornechefsky
died en route
to the hospital."

What's that got to do
with anything?

Look at the date.

August 28, 1961.

I don't get it.
Well, neither do I.

I can't figure out what's...

Neighborhood drive-in.

BRAKEMAN: Law suit?
What do you mean law suit?

Miss Fornechefsky had
dinner here the night
of her death, right?

Yeah. I remember this
Fornechefsky kid dying.

We read about it
in the papers.

She had a burst appendix.

Aggravated, possibly,
by food poisoning.

A gastro-intestinal distress.

Who says?

Hey, nothing like that
ever came out at the time.

We plan to exhume
the remains.

The Littler-Waxman test
has been very effective

in retroactively proving
cases of E. Coli infection

30, 40 years
after interment.

This stinks.
And I resent the implication.

How come you're on this
after all this time?

Well, not that it's relevant
to your purposes,

but I ran into Nancy's mother
at a party.

And after she told me
the circumstances of
her daughter's death,

I felt she may
very well have a case.

Look, why do we have to
take the gaff here?

You know she might have
had something to eat
out on that yacht.

Yacht?
Nancy went off for a toot

on Bobby Atcheson's yacht
that night. Big party.

He was drunk as a lord
when he rolled in here
in his big DeSoto.

The Atcheson family
who own the LA Tribune?

A spoiled creep.

Fornechefsky
and that bunch of pachucos
she used to hang out with

were the only ones
stupid enough to go down
to the harbor with him.

He kept yelling something
about a big open house.

Let me ask you...

Nancy's friends,
did they include

Jeanie Winslow,
Stan Collier,
Freddy Stassi?

I'm supposed to
remember these punks
after 16 years?

Collier?

Yeah, yeah,
Collier was in it.

He used to jam up
our toilets on purpose.

I think they elected him
the class wit over at Fremont.

And Jeanie Winslow too.

That little slut.
You're right.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

I'm glad you could make it
on such short notice.

Who's dying?

It's a private eye.
Name of Rockford.

Hey, here's his address.

License plate number,
make of car he drives.

Maybe you could make it
like a suicide?

Don't tell me
my business, okay?

Hey, Dad, did you move
any of Jack's stuff
after I left?

Nope.

It's all gone.
The suitcase, the typewriter,
the whole shot.

Here, let me
help you with that.

Oh, I can manage.
I'm used to doing it
for myself.

Whoever grabbed Jack
came back here,

picked up all his stuff,
just to cover their traces.

Make sure
there's no indication
he was ever in LA.

His sweatshirt's gone too.

So?

Who'd want that
ratty old sweatshirt?

Jack's the only one
who'd want it.

It's his lucky sweatshirt.
He writes in it.

Maybe Jack himself
came back here and
picked that stuff up.

Well, you and me seen
them fellas drive off
with him ourselves.

I even busted my thumb
trying to stop them.

Dad, you know
the airline ticket Jack had.

What airline was it?

Oh, I don't know.

It was that one
with the Liberty Bell
service in the coach.

You don't figure
he flew out of here
on his own, do you?

Do me a favor,
will you, Dad?

Would you stick
by the phone?

Oh, hey, here,
I'm sorry, Dad.

I've been yakking
about Jack,

I didn't realize
the problem you were having.

Oh, hey, hand hurt?

Oh, I've had things hurt
worse than that.

Now you go on and
do what you got to do.

I'll figure out some way
to cook my own dinner
with one hand.

JACK: I saw no sense
in mincing words
with the man,

so I told him right out.
I said, "Norman,

"the problem
with your recent work

"is that you've forgotten
the three essential elements
of modern fiction.

"Style, style polished,
and style polished again.

"Your latest book
has no teeth."

Then you're going to be
just the man to read it.

Oh, Jimbo, I was just
about to call you.

What did it take
to stifle you on
Nancy Fornechefsky's murder?

Who told you about that?

Then I'm right.
She was murdered.

There was a shooting,
but to say murder...

You lied to me,
you risked my neck.

You didn't have to do that.
Oh, yeah?

I suppose if I'd told you
I was gonna write an expose
on Bob Atcheson

and how he murdered a girl
when he was 18 years old,

you would have climbed
onto your white stallion

and charged
right into the fray?

You wouldn't have sweated
all the incredible pressure

a man like that
can bring to bear.

You wouldn't have worried
about losing your license
or your life.

No, not you.

I don't know, Jack.
I don't know.

But rather than find out,
it was just safer to assume
I was like you, right?

I got a plane to catch.

Jack, what did Atcheson
promise you?

Actually what happened is,
I came to realize

it would serve no purpose
to destroy Atcheson
at this point. What for?

Why put an end to
a newspaper that has
always been so fresh,

so vital and so hard-hitting
as the LA Tribune?

It's an institution.

And a valued one,
that people everywhere
depend on...

Fade in string section,
up and over.

Oh, get off my back.

You haven't lived my life,
so don't criticize my choices.

Jack. Jack.

Collier, Rosenthal and Stassi
were all on that yacht

the night that Nancy got it.

Now, old Mr. Atcheson
bought each of them
a whole new life.

What'd Bobby buy you?

Atcheson swears he didn't
kill the girl deliberately

and I believe him.

Listen, he was forcing himself
on the kid.

She didn't come across.

And she started
to laugh at him
because he was so inept.

He says he only had the gun
to scare her.

Jimmy, I got a new novel
bubbling, burning inside.

There is no publisher
in New York that will
even let me read

the magazines
in his waiting room.

I'm not working on an advance.

I lied.

The whole thing is
coming out of my pocket.

Who put you on
to the murder?

Where did you
get the idea?

My dad was an LA cop,
don't you remember?

He's the one that
handled the call on
Fornechefsky's death.

They paid off everybody.

The assistant coroner,
the kids at Fremont High,

they even paid off the captain
of the Atcheson family yacht.

Meyer, right?

They gave him
the whole yacht.

Can you believe it?

They paid off everybody.

Except my dad.

And he died bitter

because everywhere
he went to tell the story,

he found a deaf ear.

Yeah, not his son.
No. Not his son.

He found a way
to turn a buck on it.

(WOMAN ANNOUNCING ON PA)

I been trying for 15 years
to land a deal

for the sequel to
Free Fall to Ecstasy.

A whole new book.

Rollo, now middle-aged,

discusses with his analyst
everything that happened
in book one.

My agent left me,
said it wouldn't work.

The lady I was living with
finally said it was all junk.

But Atcheson,

he's gonna help me.

He's gonna give me a chance.

Jimmy!

Why fight it?

At this point,
what else could I do?

You know something, Jack?

You really are
a bag of guts.

You're always yammering
about the writer's duty
to truth,

the sacred trust
in the written word

and words as a weapon
on the side of right.
Is that it?

Do I have it right
the way you always say it?

Yeah, that's close enough.

I had a hunch, Jack,

that all that stuff really
meant something to you.

I really did.

Come on down to the DA.

I think the boat's already
sailed on that, Jimmy.

WOMAN ON PA:
This is the final call
for Continental Airlines,

Flight 477 now boarding
for Chicago.

Passengers please board
at Gate 17:

I thought the rodeo
left town in June.

I heard. That way.
Keep moving.

Any moves I don't like,
you go down wearing red.

Over there. In.

Hey, look pal,
there must be some...

Don't. Please don't.

Just into the toilet,
there, partner,

and we'll do this
real quiet and real quick.

You've got to be kidding.

Hey, Jimbo.

(YELLS)

All right.
All right.

You always seem to have
all the fun.

You want a piece
of this one, Jack?

No. I think I'll just
save it for the DA.

WOMAN ON TV: What proof
do you have, Mr. Skowron?

Well, the police told me
they have traced
the ambulance attendants

who drove Miss Fornechefsky
to the hospital.

One of the attendant's
has signed a confession

that there was a fresh wound
caused by a gunshot.

How does
Captain Curtis Meyer's
yacht fit into this?

Well,
the yacht is the exact boat
where the murder took place.

Shortly thereafter,
Captain Meyer
was given the boat

as a gift
by Atcheson, Senior.

Don't you fellas
disturb yourselves.

I'll get these burgers
to the barbecue myself.

What does it feel like,
toppling a dynastic family
as big as the Atchesons?

Well, not as good
as I thought.

Not as bad as I feared.

(CHUCKLING)

Thank you.

Implicated in the cover-up
as accessories to the fact

are talent agent
Jeanie Rosenthal,

real estate entrepreneur
Stan Collier,

and restauranteur
Fred Stassi.

KGG Y attempted to
interview these three

but they all
declined comment.

We'll have a more
comprehensive report

on the 16-year-old murder
on the 6:00 news.

All that's left is
to put it down on paper.

It's already started.

How's it going?
It cooks, Jimmy.

It really cooks.

It's so hot,
I can hardly handle it.

Here, let me help you.
ROCKY: Oh, thank you.

It seems to be
coming along fine.