Original subtitles

(theme music playing)

Starring Buddy Ebsen.

Also starring Lee Meriwether.

With guest stars Bill Bixby.

Louise Troy.

Alex, are you going out?

Well, yes. Yes, I was, uh...

I was heading over to the club for a bit.

Why? Did you have something going?

Oh, no, no.

I, I just hoped we might do something together.

Oh. Well, good. Then why don't you come along with me?

Maybe we can get up a foursome.

Why don't we make it a twosome?

And what do we do, go to the park?

And I'll carve our initials in a tree?

"Alex loves Hazel."

(chuckles) Oh, Alex.

Am I being that tiresome?

No. You're being affectionate.

And possessive.

And obviously very proud to be seen with your husband,

and I love it.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I seem to be doing a lot of apologizing lately

and I don't know why.

Nor I.

You don't have to apologize.

WOMAN: Uh, Mrs. Chandler?

You're wanted on the phone.

Who is it, Martha?

I don't know. They wouldn't give a name.

Oh. Well, I'll take it in the sitting room.

(engine starting)

Alex?

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Hello, Alex.

Hello.

Well, what's this?

It's a little party, darling.

A little party... is for two.

Well, I have a surprise for you.

(moans)

Your wife is joining us.

The joke's in bad taste.

I may not know too much about good taste, Alex,

but it's no joke.

I phoned her and I invited her.

I don't believe it.

Denise, you couldn't be that stupid.

What's more, darling, she's coming.

Do you know what you've done?

I mean, do you have any idea?

She had to be told, Alex, and you kept putting it off.

Look, Alex, it has been six months.

I gave up my job.

I've been stuck in this apartment.

Are you getting a divorce?

Are we ever getting married or not?

What did you say to her?

Nothing.

I simply told her that it was time we sat down

and worked out a settlement for her.

A settlement?

We're going to pay her off with what?

Look, don't you pretend you haven't got plenty of money.

I know where you live and you drive a Rolls-Royce.

You don't know anything!

Now, I want you to call her back on the phone right now.

You tell her you made a mistake.

Do you understand? You tell her

you got in touch with the wrong Mrs. Chandler.

Just a minute, Alex.

I'm telling you to call her

right now and I don't care what you say,

but you keep her away from this place.

You don't have any money, do you?

It comes from her, doesn't it?

Call her!

It all comes from her, doesn't it, Alex?

The money for the gifts, my ring.

Well, I bet you she's even paying for this apartment.

She's rich and you're...

What are you, Alex?

There's a word for men who marry rich, old women.

What is it?

I'm telling you to shut up.

Come on, Alex. Say it.

Say it, you gigolo.

(shouts)

(screams)

(dishes clatter)

(sighs)

(grunts) (shattering)

Denise, I'm sorry.

Hey.

Denise?

(buzzing)

(buzzing)

(buzzing)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(body thuds)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(clock tolls)

Alex?

Oh... Hazel. (sighs)

Since you didn't want to go out,

I-I decided to take a drive.

I... I almost got hit by a drunken driver.

It really shook me up.

Why don't you stop lying, Alex?

I know all about you and Denise Fraser.

She asked me over to discuss a settlement.

For me. Isn't that a laugh?

Hazel...

She's a silly, little

airline stewardess I met on a plane.

She thinks she's in love with me.

I've had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Please believe me.

If this were the first time, I might.

But it's a little late for that now.

Now, look, you've got this all wrong.

Now, give me the bag.

Let me go! Give me the bag.

Now, you understand, I want to help,

because after all, that is what I'm selling.

But, uh, to tell you the truth, Mr., uh... Turlock,

I'm not quite sure in my own mind

exactly what it is you want.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jones.

I'm afraid I haven't expressed it very well.

Well, let's see if we can work it out.

Now you say that you're afraid that, uh,

something has happened, or is happening,

or is going to happen to your sister,

Mrs., uh... Hazel Turlock Chandler.

Yes, that's it exactly.

Why?

Well, that's the problem, don't you see?

Nobody knows.

Poor Hazel hasn't been seen for two weeks.

Alex won't let anybody in the house.

Alex? That's your brother-in-law?

He's my sister's husband.

Uh, you telephoned, of course?

Of course.

Alex always answers, always gives the same reply:

"My wife isn't well enough to see anybody."

And that includes her own doctor.

I tell you, Mr. Jones,

poor Hazel is a prisoner in her own house.

You say that literally.

It is her own house?

It's all hers.

Everything.

The man is an absolute fortune hunter.

That was obvious from the start, to everybody except poor Hazel.

And now he's gonna murder her, if he hasn't already done it.

Well, I think you ought to go to the police.

Mr. Jones, I have been to the police.

They say that there's no evidence

that any crime has been committed,

and so they're powerless to do anything.

I-I don't know what

we pay taxes for.

All right. All right, I'll try to see

what I can find out about your sister.

Now my secretary will

take care of all the details.

Thank you, Mr. Jones.

Yeah.

(whistles, clucks tongue)

♪ ♪

Aphids.

(doorbell rings)

Could you please not lay on the bell?

There's a very sick woman in the house.

Oh, I'm sorry.

What do you want?

Well, I'd like to see Mrs. Alex Chandler.

Well, uh, she cannot be disturbed right now.

If there's anything I can do, I'm her husband.

Well, no. I have some papers

that require Mrs. Chandler's signature.

Yes, well, if you just give them to me,

I'll have her sign them and I will mail them to you.

Well, I'm afraid that won't do

because I have to witness her signature.

It'll only take a moment.

Than you'll have to come back another time.

She's too sick to see anyone; doctor's orders.

Well, if-if she's under a doctor's care,

I could get her an extension.

The doctor's name is...

Look, I don't give a damn about your extension.

And I haven't got time

to stand here and talk to you. Good day.

Mr. Chandler...

You ought to spray your roses.

(knocking)

(knocking continues)

MARTHA: Are you looking for someone?

Are you Martha?

That's half my name.

Well, I apologize for the informality,

but the only information I had was "Martha,"

this address, and you used to be Mrs. Chandler's housekeeper.

I'm still her housekeeper.

Who gave you that information?

Charles Turlock.

He hired me to...

Well, he was worried about his sister's health.

And he thought maybe you might know how she is.

You some kind of a policeman or something?

A private detective hired by Mr. Turlock.

Well, I suppose you'd better come in.

But I'm warning you,

you're not gonna get anything out of me,

because what I see in that house

and what I hear in that house stays in that house.

A nice sentiment, but you might be of help.

No one has seen or spoken

to Mrs. Chandler in the last two weeks.

I wouldn't know about that.

I've been off for two weeks.

Why?

Well, they-they didn't need me, of course.

Here, let me help you with that.

When was the last time you saw Mrs. Chandler?

I just told you, two weeks ago.

Ah, so you did, Martha.

Was that when she laid you off?

I wasn't laid off.

Besides, it wasn't her.

Mr. Chandler called me the next morning

and said he wouldn't be needing me

for a few days.

Was Mrs. Chandler ailing or anything?

She was going out for tea.

Now does that sound like ailing?

Would you know with whom?

The name was Denise Fraser.

And don't ask me who she is,

because I've never heard of her before.

You mean she invited Mrs. Chandler to tea,

and Mrs. Chandler went with a stranger?

A stranger to me isn't necessarily a stranger to her.

Would you know where?

As a matter of fact, I do.

Mrs. Chandler asked me to look it up for her on the map.

Uh... it's in Glendale on Dadeland Street.

But that's the last words you're gonna get out of me.

I respect your discretion, Martha.

Mrs. Durant to you.

Mrs. Durant, uh, thank you very much.

And the best of luck to you.

Well, when you've been managing apartment buildings

long as I have, Mr. Jones, nothing surprises you.

Especially the tricks they pull to try

to duck out on the rent.

I'll bet you're not often fooled, Mr. Woodford.

No. Oh, right here.

Right here is where I found the box with her things.

Now you take this Denise Fraser.

Good-looking girl, really built.

Lives alone,

and as far as anyone knows, uh... no job.

Okay, enough said?

I am reading your mind.

Now, right away, right away I said,

"I got her pegged.

She'll take off secretly, dead of night."

Two weeks ago she did.

"Denise Fraser. Take three times a day."

This all she left?

Yep. Found it over there by the elevator

where I showed you,

like she, uh, laid it down and forgot it.

Maybe she didn't have room for this stuff in her car.

Oh, I doubt that, Mr. Jones.

She drove away in a Rolls-Royce.

Did she, now?

Secretly in the dead of the night.

How do you know this, Mr. Woodford?

Well, I used to pass her in the hall,

ride up and down the elevator with her.

She wasn't a very friendly type.

As a matter of fact, she turned out to be downright unfriendly.

She flattened me with the heel of her shoe.

Why would she do that?

I was looking at her car.

Well, I don't think it was hers.

There'd never been a car in that parking space until that night.

I came upon her when she was skipping out.

I guess she thought I was gonna blow the whistle on her.

If I'd have known, I'd have helped her move.

Did you happen to get the license number?

Mr. Jones, I got hit in the head with a shoe.

They don't have license numbers.

(chuckles)

(lock rattles)

ALEX: All right, mister, hold it right there.

I have a gun on you,

and if you don't believe it, make a quick move.

What are you doing here?

Oh, I haven't got these papers signed by your wife yet.

You told me to come back later.

She's asleep, and not in the garage.

Well, I could see that.

What kind of car does your wife drive? A Rolls, isn't it?

That's right, but I don't think that's any of your business.

There's no car of any kind in there now. Uh...

did she, uh, go away somewhere, Mr. Chandler?

I told you...

Let me see that.

This has nothing to do with my wife.

What do you want here?

Maybe we should let the police take care of this.

Never mind.

Just get out of here.

And don't try it again.

Next time, I'll shoot first.

Your sister was last seen two weeks ago

when she left her house to visit a Denise Fraser.

Who is she?

I was counting a lot on your telling me who she is.

She's no one I ever heard of.

All we know about her is that she is

a good-looking young lady

who lived alone in an apartment in Glendale,

minus job or car.

But why would Hazel go to see her?

I don't know, but I know that she went.

A car just like hers was seen in the garage

of the apartment house.

Now it's, uh, missing.

Do you think there's enough

to force the police to take action?

Yeah, I think so,

along with the fact that Lieutenant Taylor's

an old friend of mine.

If Mrs. Chandler has been missing for two weeks

under somewhat mysterious circumstances,

why wait until now to report it?

Well, um, in the beginning,

the circumstances were not that mysterious.

Quite the contrary.

Um, you see, Lieutenant,

my wife has been going through a stage;

slight emotional problems,

and when she got upset, it was not uncommon for her

to just jump in the car and drive off.

Where?

La Jolla, Santa Barbara, usually

to visit friends, and... (sighs)

well, to save her embarrassment,

I would cover for her

by saying she was upstairs with a headache, and

in a few days she'd come back

and no one ever knew she was gone.

And this time?

I called La Jolla, Santa Barbara, Palm Springs,

and none of her friends have even heard from her.

And that's when you decided

to turn in a missing persons report?

Well, first I called my lawyer for advice.

Well, I told Mr. Chandler to hold off a while longer

until I made some inquiries.

And I'm sure you wouldn't be here, sir,

if you'd found out anything.

Well, I found out that Mrs. Chandler's family

and friends in the city no longer believe

she was at home sick.

And it was becoming an increasing source

of embarrassment to Mr. Chandler.

Well, now of course, the most important thing is...

uh...

I'm worried sick.

Well, good morning, Charles.

I was going to ask what you were doing here,

but now that I see your friend, I think I can guess.

Where's my sister?

And don't tell me she's home sick.

I know she's not there at all.

I'm afraid that Hazel has disappeared, Charles.

What have you done to her?

She's dead, isn't she?

You've killed her and hid her body.

You murderer.

You murderer. BARNABY: Hold it!

Well, I hated to do that, Charles.

But I had no choice.

Let's go, Alex.

Take him to the washroom

and put some cold water on his nose.

Were you waiting to see me, Barnaby?

I was, but I got a feeling

that it's going to be a waste of time now.

The housekeeper said Mrs. Chandler left at 3:00 p.m.

to visit a woman she didn't know.

Several hours later,

her car was still in that apartment house garage.

A witness saw a Rolls

that may have been Mrs. Chandler's car, Barnaby.

A tenant said he saw Denise Fraser

check out of her apartment in a tearing hurry

and drive away in a Rolls-Royce.

Mrs. Chandler hasn't been seen since,

and neither has her car.

Anything else, Barnaby?

Yes.

Her brother thinks she's been murdered.

What's Chandler's story?

He says his wife took off in a snit,

leaving this note behind.

BETTY: But did Mrs. Chandler write the note?

Turlock admits that it's her handwriting.

Of course, it's undated.

Oh, well, then.

Well, you've got to hand it to Chandler, Betty.

He saw things coming to a head, so he moved first.

Well, if he's so clever,

why did he lie about her being in the house?

Well, if she's dead, he bought himself two weeks

to cover up his tracks.

Hmm. And Denise Fraser?

Now, there is a young lady

that could throw a lot of light on this case.

If you could find her.

I was going to say that.

You know that box of junk she left in her garage?

Well, there was a half bottle of pills in there.

She's on some kind of medication.

Now, if she has that prescription refilled...

Did you get the name of the pharmacy?

No, I didn't. Barnaby!

I was going to say that I slipped the bottle

into my pocket absentmindedly.

(groans)

I wonder if I might be able to get a prescription refilled.

Yes. Denise Fraser.

175062.

Yes, that's Dr. Belfield.

You do deliver, don't you?

Oh, good. I just want to make sure

that you don't send it to my old address.

Right.

Thank you very much.

Try the Beckwith in Westchester.

It's one of those, uh, swinging single apartments.

Try it. You might like it.

I just might.

(snickers)

Welcome aboard.

I'm Sherry.

Um, Barnaby Jones.

Uh, is Denise a stewardess, too?

Oh, that's all we have here, Mr. Jones.

Four of us share this place.

Um, even though it

doesn't look like it,

we're hardly ever all here at once.

Why did Denise move out?

Well, all I can tell you is Denise met a man.

She just quit her job and took off.

She might have married him, for all I know.

I don't think so.

Oh, he already was?

Well, that's standard.

Poor Denise.

Where might she go if she broke up with him?

Uh, back to work, I guess.

She's still a stewardess, Mr. Jones.

She could deadhead on any flight anywhere in the country.

Or out of the country?

Sure.

Do you happen to have a picture of her?

I bet you've seen a picture of her plenty of times

and never knew it.

There she is.

Oh, so that's Denise.

Very pretty girl.

You mind if I keep this?

Oh, sure. Tear out the page.

Thank you very much.

You know, uh,

Denise was taking, uh,

some sort of a medication for something.

Uh, do you know what it was for?

Uh-huh. Air sickness.

(laughing)

Now, Barnaby, maybe you have nothing better to do

than stand around drinking milk in the middle of the day,

but I'm a working stiff.

Maybe I can lighten your load a little, Joe.

Mrs. Chandler?

Yeah.

You turn anything?

We only got it this morning.

Don't tell me you found her.

Nope. Looking for Denise Fraser.

She was a stewardess until she quit her job,

when she met a man.

Alex Chandler?

Why not?

Where is this stewardess?

I figure she caught a plane out of town,

and I also figure

she may have driven that Rolls-Royce out here.

I talked to the parking lot people.

People do that, you know.

They leave their cars out here for days, sometimes a week.

But, uh, longer than that,

it, uh... gets a little noticeable,

especially if it's a luxury job like this.

Yep.

Keys are on the visor.

Of course, you've checked it out already?

Even looked in the trunk.

Very funny.

No, Joe, it's not funny.

See the dark area on the rug?

Blood?

Blood.

I understand Lieutenant Taylor is here.

Isn't he always?

We seem to be spending all of our time together.

I wish I could feel

that all this was helping Hazel.

Mr. Jones.

Hello, Barnaby. Were you looking for me?

Yep.

Well, perhaps you gentlemen would like

to, uh... to use this room to talk.

Well?

The stain we found in the car trunk was blood.

Type AB.

Chandler's is type O.

We also found hair... Woman's hair.

Skin scrapings, cloth fibers.

Barnaby, I think he killed his wife and hid the body.

Are you ready to make an arrest?

Without the body, the evidence is circumstantial.

Sorry, Lieutenant.

Can we see you upstairs for a minute?

Right.

Oh, hang around for a while, Barnaby.

What is it?

I don't know.

Mr. Jones...

I know you think I killed my wife,

but you couldn't be more wrong.

Now, she's alive somewhere. I know that.

Why would she stay away so long?

Maybe she doesn't realize she's missing.

Front page story.

Then she must be someplace where she can't see a newspaper.

No radio? No TV?

Where could such a place be?

I don't know where, and I don't know why,

but I do know she'll turn up somewhere,

alive and well.

(footfalls approaching)

Are these your boots, Mr. Chandler?

Well, I think it's safe to assume

that all of the men's apparel in this house is mine.

Why?

Well, one of our technical men says there's a stain.

Says it could be blood.

Now Mr. Chandler, until we can check this out,

I don't think you ought to leave town or anything.

Ah, yes.

(indistinct chattering)

Mr. Chandler?

You followed me?

I'm afraid I did. When I saw your face when Taylor showed you

those shoes, I thought you might make a break for it.

No, no, no. You couldn't be more wrong.

After you left, I got a lead on Hazel.

I think I know where she is.

I wouldn't question that for a minute.

She's alive.

If you'd just give me six hours, I'll produce her.

I give you my word.

It's out of my hands, Chandler.

The police are on their way here now.

All I'm supposed to do is delay you.

(typewriter keys clacking)

Where's Jones? I've got to see him.

Yes, Mr. Turlock. Just a second. I'll see if he's busy.

Mr. Turlock!

He's out. He's been released.

Chandler? How do you know?

It was on the news. I heard it on the car radio.

Betty, get me Lieutenant Taylor.

Right.

They arrest him one day and release him the next.

For murder? How can that be?

Well, that's what we're going to find out.

But he murdered my sister,

and now he's out walking in the streets.

What kind of a police department do we have?

Mr. Turlock, just settle down.

Barnaby, Lieutenant Taylor on line two.

Joe?

Yeah, Barnaby.

Yeah, the information is correct.

His lawyer got him writted out in his custody.

Five days. We've either got to charge him or kick him loose.

Well, the blood on Chandler's shoes

matched that in the trunk of the car, didn't it?

Well, that's your connection.

Yeah, but the DA wants to see a body, and we can't find it.

What attempt to flee the country?

He had a ticket to New Mexico.

New Mexico?

Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Betty, get me the business office at the phone company.

Talk to my friend there.

Ask him if they have any record of any phone calls

between Albuquerque and the Chandler house recently.

Right.

Mr. Jones, what's this all about?

Denise Fraser is in New Mexico.

I'll bet you that Chandler was on his way there

to pick her up and then on to Canada or Brazil

or someplace out of the country.

That's the only way it makes sense.

They're checking with the links now.

Y-Yes?

Two recent calls to Albuquerque?

Charged to that number?

One call there.

One collect call from Albuquerque?

And the name of the party? I'm sorry. In Albuquerque.

Logan's Trading Post?

Outside of Albuquerque.

Thank you.

(laughing)

Yeah, this feller called me long distance from Los Angeles.

He wanted to know if anybody was staying

up at the old Double Circle Ranch.

"Well, shucks, mister," I said,

"we ain't had a delivery up there in five, maybe six years."

Place is all boarded

up, tumbled down.

Ain't nothin' up there no more.

So he said, "Well, now, if you ain't been up there,

how do you know that somebody ain't staying up there?"

I guess he had you there.

I reckon you're right.

So I said to this feller in Los Angeles, I said,

"The next time the boy has a run up that way,

I'll tell him to stop by and have a look around."

I'll bet you'd never guess what he saw.

A woman.

Yeah, a woman.

♪ ♪

Good afternoon, miss.

Denise Fraser?

No.

Is she around?

No.

You mean, she's gone?

No, there-there never was anyone here by that name.

There never was?

I could have sworn that...

You mean I made this trip from Los Angeles for nothing?

The name doesn't mean anything to you?

Well, thank you very much.

Mrs. Chandler!

Yes?

Mrs. Chandler!

Don't you know what's happened?

Everybody thinks you're dead and buried.

Really?

How did I die?

You were murdered...

by your husband.

You seem to know a great deal about my affairs, Mr. Jones.

I know you left your house to call on Denise Fraser.

After that, nothing.

Do you know who she is?

I suspect she's...

your husband's girlfriend.

She wasn't home.

At least, she didn't answer my ring.

I don't know why.

So I decided to go away somewhere,

think things out.

Then Alex came home with the car.

We had an argument.

I left.

I had to find a place Alex couldn't think of.

I remembered the ranch.

So you bought an airplane ticket under a different name?

Yes, my first husband's name.

And I came here.

And I've been here ever since.

Did Alex kill Denise Fraser?

There were bloodstains in the trunk of your car

and other evidence.

There must have been a body there.

I suppose she was...

very young and beautiful.

Well, yes.

I-I never saw her, but, uh, I have her picture.

Please.

She is lovely.

They look so nice in those uniforms.

That's how he met her.

Alex is a pilot.

He was?

What is it, Mr. Jones?

I was just thinking.

If I wanted to get rid of something like a body...

and I could fly an airplane...

I'd just fly out about 100 miles,

out into the Pacific, and forget about it.

Horrible.

If the police had that airplane...

there's always a certain amount of evidence.

They could tie it up with the trunk of your car

and Alex's shoes.

Mr. Chandler own his own plane?

No.

No, that would make it too easy.

(crickets chirping)

(phone ringing)

(sighs, ringing continues)

Hello? Hello?

Hazel?

Hazel, where are you?

Alex, I just saw a newspaper

for the first time in three weeks.

What's this nonsense that I'm missing?

Oh, it... well, it's it's-it's-it's just a mistake.

Where are you?

New Mexico. Yes, I thought so.

Yes.

Now-Now-Now, darling, look it,

why don't you just get right back here home

where we can straighten everything out?

Don't worry about it, Alex.

I'll just call the Los Angeles Police and tell them.

No. No, no. Darling...

I think we really should talk it over first.

There's been much too much notoriety about this, and I...

Look, why don't we meet someplace?

Um, no, I can't, Alex.

I, um...

I-I sprained my ankle, walking along the canyon.

Oh, well, darling,

now, you shouldn't have done a thing like that.

I mean, you might have fallen all the way to the bottom.

You-You could have had a serious injury.

You're all alone.

Nobody knows you're there,

or you might not have been discovered for weeks.

No. No, no, no. I'll tell you...

You-You-You just stay there and I'll be right down to get you.

No, I won't hear of it.

I-I-I want you to stay there.

You get some sleep.

I'm flying down immediately

and I'll be there by the crack of dawn.

Yes. Oh, and, darling?

I do love you very much.

(rain pattering)

Good evening, Mr. Chandler.

Following me again?

Afraid so, but, uh, it's been very profitable.

You're a pilot.

What about it?

Well, you must see that answers a big question...

Uh, where you hid the body.

Out to sea, and nobody will ever find it.

Mr. Jones, I'm going to tell you this one more time.

I did not murder my wife.

She is not dead,

and by tomorrow, I'll be able to prove that.

Oh, I'm not talking about your wife.

I know she's alive.

You murdered Denise Fraser.

Jones...

I've taken just about all I'm going to out of you.

You know there's bound to be traces

of blood and skin and clothes in there,

just the same as in the car trunk.

And blood is very hard

to wash out completely, Mr. Chandler.

I might say, uh, almost impossible.

If this is the plane you used to dispose of Denise...

It isn't.

If it isn't, I've blown the whole case against you.

But it is the one, isn't it, Mr. Chandler?

I guess that's as good an answer as anything.

Get in the plane.

For a ride out to sea?

No, no. This time I'm taking another direction...

Over mountainous terrain.

But they won't be able to find you. Get in.

You don't think I'm fool enough

to confront a murderer at night, in a dark hangar, alone,

do you?

(chuckles) Cops?

Yep.

♪ ♪

Well, it looks like they didn't make it.

I called them.

You're lying.

Get in the plane.

(light switch clicks)

(light switch clicks)

You see?

All right, freeze, Chandler.

Slide it over.

(siren wailing)

(tires squeal)

Come on, Mrs. Chandler. We'll take you home now.

(birds chirping)

Over here, Mr. Jones.

They were just covered with aphids.

But I think they're all right now.

Are you all right?

No. Not yet.

But I'm getting there.

Well...

it is so nice to see you again, Mr. Jones.

I thought we might have lunch in the garden.

Yes, it's too nice a day to stay inside.

Well, come along, then.

Mr. Jones.

Ah, hello, Mr. Turlock.

And the top of the morning to you, Mrs. Durant.

Lunch is served.

Well, can't win them all.

(chuckling)

Shall we?

(theme music playing)