Original subtitles

Now, being a sound sleeper can be either a blessing or a curse.

Well, it's a curse if someone yells fire,

and it's a blessing if you sleep with someone

who snores.

I'm not a sound sleeper.

A girl once said I'd awaken at the sound of a twinkling star.

Well, the girl was a poet.

Some days I don't wake up all that easily.

A man shouldn't be too consistent.

Harry!

It's open!

Are you alone, Harry?

Yeah.

Well, uh, the way you sleep, somebody could come in here and rob you blind, you know?

I didn't have to be blind to bother.

I got coffee, booze, and beer, and I'm temporarily out of sacramental wine.

Harry, I'm in a fix.

I mean, uh...

No, I mean I'm in a fix.

All right, Harry.

An hour ago, a man confessed a murder to me.

Who was it?

I don't know.

He was just an anonymous penitent confessing.

Who was murdered?

I don't know that either.

I get confessions like that some days myself.

Well, this was more than simply a confession, Harry.

This man's very, very disturbed.

Maybe that's why he seemed to be warning me.

Seemed to be begging me to try to stop him.

Maybe that's why, without realizing it, he gave me a clue.

It was some kind of a verse or a poem.

Cherry-lipped lads, and girls besides,

like adulterous cooks come to the tides.

That's wrong.

Golden lads and girls all must,

as chimney sweepers, come to dust.

Shakespeare used to go with a very poetic girl.

She was intelligent, but a light sleeper.

No. No, he said cherry-lipped lads,

and not dust, but tides.

You die of carbon monoxide poisoning, your lips turn cherry red.

Oh, dear God.

Dear God.

Did he say tide or tides?

What?

Oh, he said the tides.

Why?

There's a hotel in La Jolla, the tides.

Hotels have restaurants.

Restaurants have cooks.

Adulterous cooks.

And that has been known to cause trouble.

Did you recognize him?

No. No.

His voice, his mannerisms. Was he a member of the congregation?

Stop it, Harry.

But you did see him.

If I did, I couldn't tell you that.

It was under the seal of the confessional.

You know better than to even ask me that.

You kept me up till 3 a.m. last week,

telling me you were leaving the church.

That has nothing to do with this.

Don't read me, Harry.

New smaller print, Father.

Harry, I came here to you because I have to know if there was a murder.

If there wasn't, you can relax. You're off the hook.

Breaking the seal of the confessional is a mortal sin.

So is murder, Father.

Sorry I came here.

Tom! Tom!

Tom!

Yeah, Connolly, but he ain't no cook. He's the chef.

And he's missing.

He ain't missing. He's just in here right now.

When's the last time you saw him?

He came out to check the meat delivery here.

Where's the driver?

He's inside having breakfast.

Is there any reason for this motor to be left running?

Yeah, he's in a hurry.

He's got something going with one of the waitresses inside.

Call the police.

What?

Call the police!

What's the matter? What's going on?

Hey, don't open that. You've got to keep it shut, otherwise the meat will spoil.

Death is always an indignity.

If Connolly had been made into an ugly joke,

I'd never sight a meat.

Mmm. Very good.

Now, the waitress wasn't quite sure what he had for breakfast,

but otherwise their stories check out.

Harry, who was the priest?

He gave me a lift.

You mean you both just happened to come here to see Connolly?

Is that it?

Is that it, Harry?

You're very quick, Manny.

Tell me about it, Harry.

It's just a case I have.

What sort of case, Harry?

The green ones are bad for you. They're full of cholesterol.

What are you full of, Harry?

If I knew anything about Connolly, I would tell you.

Oh, come on.

Harry, you're being coy.

Hey, cholesterol.

All right.

Come on.

Lieutenant!

Yeah?

You want to take a look at this?

Yeah.

You're not involved, Harry, okay?

Let's keep it that way.

I really don't want your thumb marks all over my case.

Goodbye, Harry.

A cop survives on skill gets promoted on publicity.

Murder won is always an opportunity.

And Manny wanted the stage uncrowded, so I left.

Yes?

Burt Greenbaum, please?

Well, he's not here. This is Mrs. Greenbaum.

Oh, it's a pleasure to talk to you, Mrs. Greenbaum.

I'm from Mutual.

On Burt's insurance policies, I want to make sure I talk to him.

Can you tell me what time he'll be leaving tomorrow?

Well, he usually leaves around half past eight.

Oh, fine.

Who should I tell to call?

Fine, thanks very much.

It's difficult to wear your immortal soul against another man's mortal life.

I didn't envy Paul Vecchio.

It's my cross, Harry. Let me bear it.

You said he wanted to be stopped so he may kill again.

I know that.

I'm not living in the Middle Ages.

I was trained in psychiatric counseling, guilt and rage.

He's terrified of killing, but he wants to kill.

I'm a little scared myself, Paul. Why don't you go to the police?

I'm bound by the seal of the confessional. I should never have come to you.

Amen to that, but you did, so I'm hooked.

And you're my friend, so I'm bound by that. But if he kills again...

That's between him and God.

And whoever he kills...

Paul, you said you were on the edge of leaving the church.

Yes, I may leave.

I may fail.

But I will not break my vows.

I confess.

That I have sinned.

Through my own fault.

And what I have said...

What I've done...

What I've failed to do.

I'm sorry. I forgot to turn it off.

I'm sorry. I forgot to turn it off.

You're falling apart, Greenbell.

An insurance man was going to call you this morning.

I guess he forgot.

How about if we tuck in early tonight, huh?

Okay?

I'm sorry.

Hello.

Harry Ballwell?

Yeah.

Famous private eye and priest lover.

Who's this?

Cherry-lipped lads will travel far.

All the way to hell in an adulterous garb.

Well, hello.

You know who I am?

No.

Didn't that priest tell you about me?

Well, not your name. Just that you were troubled.

You needed help. He's concerned about you.

Oh, he is?

And you are?

They were.

That's in the past tense.

How about the present tense? Where are you?

What about the future tense?

Like, who's next?

Guess who's next, Mr. Orwell.

Or ask your priest to pray for guidance.

Alloside had come and gone, done their ritual.

Taken the body and left the empties.

It was a nice house.

But it made a lousy mausoleum.

Harry talked to the police.

Why should I talk to you?

I can't give you a compelling reason.

Solve the crime?

Nail the murderer?

Collect a fee?

Stop the man from killing anyone else.

That's what Bert was.

A hopeless do-gooder.

I feel I'm coming apart at the seams pretty soon.

It's heading towards me like a tidal wave.

Can I help you?

No, thank you.

Our...

My doctor's coming.

What did you want to ask me?

Motive, there wasn't any.

Enemies, none.

Sanity, none.

Do you happen to know a man named Clarence Conley?

Yes, an AA.

Alcoholics Anonymous.

But what's he got to do with it?

Clarence Conley was killed yesterday.

Carbon monoxide poisoning.

Alcoholics Anonymous.

You know, ex-drunks working together to keep each other sober.

Which I know.

There's somebody in the family that had a drinking problem.

Bert was an alcoholic.

And...

Well, he dried out 20 years ago.

But he was still an alcoholic, so...

So he worked with the AA.

And so did Conley.

You know, I never really cared for Conley.

He was a noisy man.

He never stopped explaining to people what a hopeless drunk he was.

As if it was a medal.

Who...

Who killed him?

Who killed my husband?

She hung on to me as if I was the edge of a cliff.

Then a doctor got there and she let go and started falling.

What do you want me to say, Harry?

Say, I know something about the guy. Say... Say something.

I can't.

Paul, I like you as a man.

I'm finding it very difficult to have sympathy for you as a priest.

Yes, but I am a priest, Harry.

It's not just a label. That's my identity.

Sometimes I think that's my only identity.

The church.

The church sent me back to school to study psychology.

So I learned all about the irrational basis for religion.

So now I have doubts.

I'm still a priest, Harry. I gave my word.

All right, maybe I'm failing as a priest. That just means I failed myself, not God.

Speaking of the Holy Wars, the Crusades and the

Inquisition, he's killed twice. He may kill again.

I know that. I've thought about that.

I've even imagined a man confessing to me a plan to kill ten people. A hundred people.

One single child.

The seal of the confessional is absolute. I cannot break it.

Not even to save your murder?

He's not mine!

God help me.

God help me. He is.

He's chained to me.

Dragging two corpses with him.

Harry...

Harry, I'm drowning. I don't know what to do.

I can't give you absolution, Father.

Comers who are with us tonight, I would like to say,

don't be alarmed or irritated by all this talk about God.

It's only name-dropping.

I was an atheist before I came to Alcoholics

Anonymous, and I'm still an atheist.

But I didn't come here to find God, I came here to find sobriety.

And I found it.

Which only goes to prove, I suppose, that God loves atheists too.

You hear them?

They're closer to me than family.

Bird Greenbaum pulled me out of a tailspin eight years ago and dragged me out.

Ian Conley and Schofield took turns sitting with me, listening to me, talking to me.

Greenbaum, Conley, Schofield. Who's Schofield?

Marty Schofield did a lot of twelve-step work.

That's making house calls on drunks in trouble.

With Greenbaum and Conley?

Sometimes, yes.

Mr. Samuels, Greenbaum and Conley are dead. Who's Marty Schofield?

They were... It was an accident.

They were not, and it was not. It was murder.

Now, who's Marty Schofield and where do I find him?

Marty's a... Marty's a golf pro.

He and Conley and Greenbaum worked together for years.

They were almost a team.

Is there anything I can do to help?

You already have.

Drunk, we have but one option.

Sober, all things are still possible.

Thank you.

I reject the priesthood. I've failed. That's the only certainty I have.

The crisis of faith is an unknown these days, Paul. You'll find it.

How? With faith. Head on.

Faith.

I have faith. I have faith in what I see.

Napalm? Me lie? War? Hunger? Murder?

Paul, listen to me.

It never comes easily, except maybe to fanatics or fools.

The soul has always been a battleground.

It's not a conflict you can avoid.

Faith. Faith is a true gift of God.

You accept it or reject it.

Or you lose it.

Well, what are you going to do, Paul?

You're going to quit? You're going to run?

What does that matter anymore?

It does to me.

All right, then tell me this.

A man told me he committed a murder.

He told me in confession.

There's been a second killing and there may be more.

Now, what do I do? What do I do?

Do I just give him absolution?

Nine Hail Marys, go and sin no more? Is that all I can do?

He spoke to you under the seal of the confessional. There are no exceptions.

Dear God! Dear God!

Then I wash my hands in bloody water.

You're going to wash your hands at the church, Paul?

You'll be excommunicated, you know.

I won't allow it.

I'm going to give you an official leave of absence.

Time to find your direction.

Time? I entered the novitiate when I was 17 years old.

I don't need any more time.

Time has run out for two people and I haven't gone to the police yet.

Do you intend to?

I don't know.

I've given it a great deal of thought.

The only thing I'm sure of is that I must leave the church.

If I wasn't altogether certain of it before, I am now.

Whatever I do,

I have to do it alone.

Outside the church.

Inside myself.

Paul!

Paul?

Paul?

Paul?

Sir?

I'm sorry.

No, Father, it's important.

That priest, the one that just ran out of here.

Where can I find him?

Can I help you?

You called him Paul? Is that his name? Paul what?

Who are you?

I'm a good Catholic, Father. I'm a devout man.

I told him, the priest.

I talked to him about confidential things.

I want to talk to him some more.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

Why? It's important to me.

He's no longer available.

But he helped me. I need help.

I can hear your confession.

I want him. Tell me his name.

There's no point.

He left the priesthood. I'm sorry.

Please, what's his name?

Tell me who he is.

Who is he?

What's his name?

Tell me!

You know, I'm writing a book on it.

It's called Central Golf.

You should.

Marty Schofield?

Yeah.

My name's Harry Orwell.

Look, if it's about a lesson...

Ben Samuels gave me a name.

Yeah.

Say, maybe we can work on your swing set.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

What do you mean?

Well, you win a few and you lose a few.

Say, what's the bid, friend?

You worked with Bert Greenbaum?

Clarence Conley in AA?

Yeah, we worked together a lot.

Terrible thing about that accident.

Bert was a great guy.

No accident and neither was Conley.

Conley? What happened?

I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks.

And what do you mean it wasn't an accident?

Conley was murdered.

Carbon monoxide poisoning.

The same for Greenbaum.

I can't believe that.

Since the three of you worked together in AA,

I'm looking for some connecting tissue,

somebody in common, anybody in common.

Who can remember them all?

Took on a lot of challenges.

We lost a few, but we won a lot.

Somebody had some reason to kill Greenbaum and Conley.

Look, we saved people.

We didn't make any enemies. No way.

Murdered.

I can't believe it.

I mean, it just doesn't make any sense.

It's...

It's freaky.

Look, I'm sorry.

I can't help you. I've got a lesson coming up.

Mr. Schofield.

Marty. It's Marty.

Marty! What are you afraid of, Marty?

What?

Two close friends of yours are dead.

Why do you just want to walk away from it?

Look, I don't like being smeared, Orwell.

I'm an alcoholic.

But I've licked it.

And I've got something going here.

You don't want to risk it.

But a little help with the death of two friends,

I don't see the problem.

Unless you've got something in the closet, Marty.

You're making a lot of insinuations.

Accusations!

One man killed Greenbaum and Conley, the same man.

The same man all three of you worked with in AA.

Now, how many candidates fit, Marty?

You've got to know.

You've got to remember him.

Who?

Mess.

His name is Eric Press.

It rhymes with mess.

He was the alcoholic.

Left his wife.

Came back.

He stole her money.

He beat her up, the usual.

So we, Bert Clare and I,

we tried to work on him.

And he wanted help.

He was a drunk kid.

Wouldn't put out, wouldn't help himself.

Couldn't stand people knowing him,

knowing about him, about his drinking and all.

So...

So he split.

We lost.

And?

That's it.

He ran away, he came back,

and he's been killing ever after.

Why?

I, uh...

I had an affair with his wife.

It just happened, you know.

I was there a lot.

We...

We all were.

She was lonely, I guess.

You know.

Well, maybe he found out about it.

He was crazy jealous.

Maybe that's why he took off.

Marion would know, ask her.

Where do I find her?

In the book.

She's listed Mrs. Marion Press in Mesa.

Ask her.

You meet a lot of people like Marty Schofield.

Drunk or sober,

they don't make much difference in anybody's life.

Marty really said to ask me.

Funny, I sure get the prizes.

My ex-husband, the alcoholic,

and Marty Schofield, the hero.

Simple reason.

Marty and I had an affair.

Two months, no big deal.

After your husband left?

After we were separated,

while we were getting a divorce.

See, I'm basically a moral person.

Was Eric jealous?

Eric was impotent

because of his drinking.

He'd had psychiatric problems before

when he was in the Navy.

Then he began to drink?

Not then, no.

He was fine.

We were fine.

He had a job with a good company.

It's a good job, public relations.

And then they were cruel enough to give him a promotion.

They lost him.

Eric couldn't take it.

Too much responsibility, too little of Eric, I guess.

Anyway,

he ducked into the bottle

and he stopped being a man.

Pretty soon, I stopped being a woman.

I became a shrew.

He blamed me,

and I blamed him.

And we turned into a pair of cannibals.

So for a lot of wrong reasons,

I turned to Marty.

Marty Scofield.

Did he know about Scofield?

No.

Just that it was one of them.

He's been killing all three of them for the same sin.

He mentioned adultery

and the clue he gave to Father Paul.

Oh, the priest.

Yeah, that was another crutch that Eric used, religion.

He was a faithful drunk.

Did he see a psychiatrist?

For a little while and a lot of money.

Except that he figured that liquor was a better investment.

So Alcoholics Anonymous,

Greenbaum, Conley,

Scofield,

the three musketeers.

And they tried. I'll give them that.

They sweated with him.

They laid the truth on him.

And he hated it.

And he walked away from it.

And me.

Never ends.

Do you think that he killed Greenbaum?

Conley?

I think so.

Yeah.

Because there's some mistakes you make and you have to carry them forever.

It's not fair.

Who said it was supposed to be fair?

We're supposed to try.

I'm tired of trying.

Here's the family album.

Yeah, that's him.

That's Eric.

How do you say it, father, in Latin?

Ece homo? Behold the man?

The man's name is Eric Press.

He's an alcoholic.

An alcoholic.

With a history of psychiatric disorder.

He's probably killed two people.

And he probably wants to kill you.

Though we know who he is, we don't know where he is.

But the police have an all-points bulletin out.

And he thinks you're a witness.

Against him. So be a witness against him and end it.

You want to be a sacrifice?

A vacation from your moral problems by being crucified.

Hello.

Mr. Press.

That lying black scarecrow, I knew he'd betray his vows.

It wasn't father Paul that was mean.

I've been talking to people.

I won't betray you, Eric.

I want to help you with the police. I'm an ex-cop.

You want me to turn myself in?

That's right.

Let me talk to him.

Why don't you and I talk it over?

I'll meet you any place you say.

Why?

Well, I've got experience in dealing with people like you.

I know the problem.

Come on, Eric, set it up. I'll meet you anywhere you like.

All right.

All right. Conditioned.

No police.

Conditioned.

We meet where I say, when I say.

Conditioned.

I want the priest there.

Whatever you say.

When and where?

In one hour.

Under the old amusement pier.

Eric?

Looks good.

Think he'll really show?

He needs a friend.

Sure.

To kill.

Hello.

Hello, can I help you?

Yes, you can, father Paul.

Forgive me, father.

But I've changed my mind.

What?

I'm ready to meet right now.

In ten minutes.

But not at the amusement pier.

At the sports arena instead.

Harry's already left. He's not here.

But you are.

And I am.

Either we can meet or that's it.

Ten minutes. Sports arena.

Use the south entrance.

I'll be there. I'll be there.

No, I don't.

I'm in trouble.

I...

I want to go to the police.

I'm afraid to go alone.

If you help, talk to the police.

What do you want me to do?

I'm...

I'm meeting with a priest.

He's going to counsel me before the police come.

If you'll be there too...

I'll tell you where.

Sports arena.

South gate.

Come immediately.

Bye.

All right, stay put, Paul. I'll be right there.

Your part's been cut.

Harry, what is it?

I'll take you to press if you give me five minutes alone with him.

Eric?

No, I'm father.

I'm Paul. Paul Vecchio.

You're the priest.

Does that bother you?

Yes.

Eric took refuge in religion.

After a drunk.

And then he jumped out of it onto me, the hooker of Babylon.

I'm sorry, that's stupid.

No, I...

It's all right.

I think I understand.

Eric deals in absolutes.

Good or evil.

Damnation or...

Absolution.

Life or... or death.

As it happens, that's my hang-up too.

Eric!

Eric!

Eric!

Eric!

Eric!

Eric!

Eric?

Watch out!

Eric!

Get back!

Five minutes, Manny.

Okay, five minutes, but only five, Harry.

I know, it's your case, it's your career.

You're so right.

No trap, no tricks. You're an honorable man, Father Paul.

Vecchio, Paul Vecchio.

That's right, I forgot.

You left the church, you failed.

Yes.

Ego te absolvo.

I grant you absolution.

Eric, what are you going to do?

What do you want?

Justice.

Justice?

Eric, what about mercy?

Mercy.

You don't know, they betrayed me!

Not Conley, and not Greenbaum, only Marty Scofield,

and then only after we'd separated.

Eric, you know why!

Shut up!

Eric, let me...

Shut up! Shut up!

No!

Eric, let me talk to you.

I... I think I can help you.

Maybe I... at least I can try to understand.

Lie down.

What?

Lie down.

Like a good, penitent father.

Face down.

Hands flat out.

Why does he have to suffer?

You've thrown away every chance anyone has ever given you.

And you blame them, and you blame me.

What are you trying to cover up now, Eric?

That you know you've destroyed yourself?

Brother, brother, pray with me.

Pray with me!

God forgive this man, he's sick, he doesn't know what he's doing.

Oh, God...

No!

Eric!

Spread them out a bit, Pa.

All right, cuff him.

Eric Press?

I want to caution you, anything you have to say...

Wait just a minute, please.

I won't cause any more trouble.

Eric, it'll be all right.

It will be.

Father, I'm sorry.

Great, take him away.

When I was 16, I used to go hiking in the mountains.

Pretending I was Kid Carson.

Discovering a new wilderness.

Meeting wild, proud Indians.

And marrying the chief's beautiful daughter.

One summer, when I was older, I went hiking in those same mountains.

Someone had cut down all the trees.

And the Indians were gone.

Harry?

Hey, Harry!

Hi!

I've, uh...

Made a decision.

Huh?

You gonna be a rock singer?

No, can't carry a tune.

I was the only choir boy kicked out for tonal blasphemy.

No, there's a rural free clinic.

I'm going up north.

Another set of vows?

Maybe.

I think I learned something true about myself, though, Harry.

I have to dedicate myself to something.

I need it.

What am I gonna do for those 3 a.m. sessions on morality and God and humanity?

Commune with your soul.

No.

Too dangerous.

Go with God, Paul.

Try, Harry.

You too.

Pilgrim's progress.

He wasn't running so desperately.

And maybe he was gaining some ground.

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