All language subtitles for Charlies Angels S01E06 The Killing Kind.BRrip.NonHI.en.MLLCRK

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!