All language subtitles for Father Dowling Mysteries S02E12 The Legacy Mystery

♪♪

Bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.

It's been six years
since my last confession.

Six years is a long time.

You must have a
lot on your mind.

Yes, I do.

But that's not why I'm here.

I'm here to confess a theft.

I just took something
from the church.

From St. Michael's?

I'm only telling you this,

Father, because I
don't want you to think

that the church was
desecrated by vandals.

I figured I... I owed you that.

What are you talking
about? What did you steal?

You'll find out soon enough.

Well, you understand if you
don't return what you stole,

I-I can't give you absolution.

I don't need absolution.

I'm not sorry for what I did.

Then how do you
expect me to help you?

Steve, did you see
anyone just leave here?

No.

Why?

Because we've been robbed.

Sign here, Father.

I'll get you a copy of the
report for your insurance.

Clancy, we're a poor parish.

Insuring works of
art, it's too expensive.

That's too bad.

Well, with something like
this, money isn't the issue.

Tell me about it.

My place was hit
a few months ago.

Oh, sure, cops get burglarized.

Creeps took my stereo
and CD collection.

Worst part is that
sense of violation.

Yeah.

Been a rash of
art thefts lately.

This is the first I've heard
where a thief hit a church.

Other art thefts, recently?

About a dozen.

Mostly from private collections,
but one from the museum.

Clancy,

I wonder if I could get
copies of the police reports

on the other thefts.

There doesn't seem
to be any connection.

Well, maybe not. I-I just guess

I got to be doing something.

I hate feeling helpless.

You wouldn't be considering

getting involved
in this, would you?

Why, Sergeant, you
know me better than that.

Mrs. Howard get off all right?

Uh-huh. I promised
to feed her fish

and she promised
to make a contribution

to the Altar Boy
Scholarship Fund.

Well, you keep
those fish healthy.

The fund needs money.

I'm on the case, Frank.

So, you've been busy.

Mmm.

In the last few months, there've
been 11 thefts of fine arts

in the Chicago area,
including our icon.

And in spite of what
Sergeant Clancy said,

I bet you find a connection.

The icon of St. Petersburg
was donated to St. Michael's

by old Mr. Doyle, right?

Right.

Mr. Doyle bought it at an
auction from the Cabot estate

six years ago.

Cabot?

I remember hearing about
them when I was a kid.

Yeah, Mark Cabot made
millions in the stock market

and his wife, Ellen, was
very active in our church.

So you knew them?

Fairly well, Steve.

The first few years I
was at St. Michael's,

I was a guest in their
home many times

and I presided at their
son, Jonathan's, wedding.

Wasn't there some
kind of a scandal, Frank?

Hmm.

Mark Cabot embezzled
funds from his brokerage firm.

He abandoned his wife
and son, and later died

in the arms of another woman.

Nice guy.

So what happened to his family?

Well, Ellen Cabot, she tried to
repay the funds that Mark stole,

but the effort broke her
both physically and financially.

She died six years ago and...

the remains of her estate

were put up for auction.

So, let me guess, Frank.

All the stolen artwork
in Clancy's files

came from the Cabot estate.

Not exactly.

You see, since the auction,
most of the art pieces

have changed
hands several times.

So, that's why Clancy
didn't make the link.

But I remember seeing
some of these paintings

and sculptures in the Cabot
house before Mark ran off.

Including...

this one.

Says, "An auction
of rare artwork

"of distinguished provenance
at the Foster Gallery,

"10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.

Principals only, please."

Frank, this is today.

If somebody is
stealing art pieces

that once belonged
to the Cabot family,

they might be very
interested in this auction.

- I'll get the car.
- Yeah.

I'll meet you
around front, okay?

Mm-hmm.

Father Dowling, I just
heard the terrible news.

What terrible news,
Father Prestwick?

Marie told me about the theft.

The bishop is very upset.

He's authorized
hiring a security patrol.

"Greater Chicago Security.

Your safety assured
night or day."

I don't think that's
necessary, Father Prestwick.

We were robbed, that's all.

There's no reason to panic.
Now, if you'll excuse me.

No. Where are you going?

Oh, I'm going with Sister Steve.

Oh...

Jill, hold all my calls

for about an hour
and a half or so.

I'm gonna be on the phone
with Shimotoi in Tokyo

on my private line. I
don't want to be disturbed.

All right, Mr. Cabot.

♪♪

♪♪

And that will finish
the bidding on this

lovely Pre-Raphaelite
bronze. Thank you.

Now, let's start the bidding

at $30,000 for this fine example

of English Wedgwood.

Do I hear 31?

31,000 from the
young lady in the black.

Do I hear 32?

I have 32.

- Close call, huh?
- Mm-hmm.

$32,000.

When does Cabot's
painting go on the block?

It's the next lot.

You're done at $32,000.

$32,000...

going once...

$32,000 going twice.

You're done at $32,000.

Sold for $32,000.

Our next item, lot
59 in your catalogues,

Hale's Crimson Rambler.

That's it.

Fine example of
American Impressionism.

Do I have an opening
bid of $100,000?

One hundred.

I see 110.

110. I have 110.

111.

111.

Frank. Do you think
the thief is here?

I hope so.

I'd sure like to
get our icon back.

Could be anybody here.

120.

120 once.

Twice.

Steve, the painting.

Oh, my God.

It's gone!

Call the police.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen,

if I might have your
cooperation, I have to ask

that none of you leave the
room until the police arrive.

Secure the room, please.

We found it in
the utility closet.

People use them to
turn their lights off and on

- while they're on vacation.
- Well, so now we know

how the thief made
the lights go out,

but how'd he make
the painting disappear?

He didn't.

With all due respect, Father,

the sergeant and
her men searched

the room with everyone
in it... The painting's gone.

Yes, it is, Mr. Foster...
But it didn't disappear.

Did you take on any
new employees today

or replacements for
your regular staff?

There was one new man... Hailey.

Was he the man who
brought out the painting?

Yes, Father, but Hailey was
searched, like everyone else.

The painting wasn't on him.

Oh, I didn't think it would be.

But he's the thief.

Well, let's get
Hailey over here.

I think you'll find he's
long gone, Sergeant.

Father, if Hailey
took the painting,

how did he get it
out of the room?

It was never here.

The thief replaced
the painting with a print

before he brought it on stage,

and to the audience
it looked real enough

for the few moments
before the timer went off.

Now, while the lights
were out, he pulled the print

out of the frame.

And when you looked
at the empty frame,

well, you focused your
attention on searching this room

and everybody in it...

but, uh, the painting

was somewhere else all along,

in another room,

- backstage.
- So after you searched him

and let him go, the
thief took the painting

- and split.
- I'm sorry, Father,

but that sounds
just too incredible.

Well, as Conan Doyle says in
the Sherlock Holmes stories...

When you eliminate
the impossible,

whatever's left, no
matter how improbable,

must be the truth.

Right, Frank?

Right.

Besides, uh...

I found this backstage
behind the curtain,

where the thief threw it
while the lights were out.

♪♪

Well, his father may
have bankrupted the family,

but Jonathan looks like

he's doing pretty
good for himself.

Father Dowling.

Oh, hello, Barbara.

Oh, it's been much,
much too long.

Well, I don't
think I've seen you

since your son's baptism.

Is this him?

- Mm-hmm.
- Good-looking kid.

- How is he?
- Mark's the top of his class

in boarding school, Father.

He's been getting better
grades than I did at his age.

Father Dowling, good to see you.

You, too, Jonathan.

Oh, Barbara, Jonathan,
this is Sister Stephanie.

Hi.

- How do you do?
- Good, thanks.

Well, I wish that Barbara and I

didn't have this dinner
party to go to in town tonight.

We could talk over
old times, but...

that's the price you
pay for success, Father.

Personal life always seems
to take a back seat to business.

Yes, sometimes I
have the same problem.

I thought priests were
all business, Father.

Uh, I had my
secretary track down

this estate inventory for you.

- Oh, yes.
- Oh.

Oh.

Thank you, Sister.

There's a complete list
of everything that was sold

- at the auction there.
- Thank you.

Well, if you'll all excuse me,

I'd better finish getting ready.

Thanks.

Father, I'm curious.

Uh, what's your interest

- in this list?
- Jonathan,

somebody has been
stealing art objects

that belonged to
your parents' estate

from their current owners.

One of them was
taken from St. Michael's.

Oh.

Well, my father
certainly had his failings,

but, uh, poor taste
wasn't one of them.

Hm.

Whoever's been stealing
our family collection

must have admired
it for quite a long time.

Well, if there's
anything else I can do...

- We'll call you.
- Bye.

Bye.

Oh, uh...

I hope to see you in
church again, soon.

Miracles do happen.

Yes. I know.

Steve...

whoever stole those art pieces

will eventually be
needing a fence.

And you're wondering
if I know one

who might handle this
kind of merchandise.

- Well, it crossed my mind.
- Of course I do.

What kind of a girl
do you think I am?

Steve, if you
could find a fence,

we could put Mrs. Howard's
mansion to good use.

Looking good, Harry.

Steve Oskowski.

Where have you been?

Around.

I hear you're moving
up in the world.

I'm doing okay.

You look great.

Thanks.

Shoplifting better stores?

Shoplifting's kid stuff, Harry.

I got myself a deal.

Oh, don't tell me.

Let me guess.

He's old, he's
got a lot of money,

and he loves to spend it on you.

And I'm in a position to
throw some of it your way.

Tell me about it, Steve.

My friend...

he collects fine art.

He's anxious to
acquire certain items.

He's not fussy
about the paperwork,

and, um... price

is not a problem.

You got yourself a real pigeon.

What kind of items?

Well, I'll put you two together.

I'll let him tell
you himself, okay?

Where and when?

Not so fast, Harry.

I cut you in, you
cut me in, 60-40.

It's no deal; I work alone.

Harry... I'm sorry.

I mean, you're the best

and I thought we
could do business here,

but I'm gonna have
to go somewhere else.

70-30.

Deal.

You're a smart kid, Steve.

But this better be good
and it better be straight.

I've got a temper.

I remember.

Good.

Now, when and where?

♪♪

Guy's got bread.

Told you.

Listen, wait a minute, okay?

I'm gonna go tell
him you're here.

Frank, he's waiting in the hall.

- Oh, Steve.
- Now, listen, don't worry about anything.

You look really great.

Mm.

Think rich.

Think... unscrupulous.

I'm thinking what'll happen
if he sees through me.

Good. That'll inspire you
to become convincing.

- Yeah.
- I'm gonna go get him now, all right?

Okay.

Mr. De Sousa, this is Mr...

Smythe is the name.

Won't you please sit down?

Would you like
something to drink?

Not while I'm talking business.

All right, Mr. De Sousa,
here's my proposition.

I have here a list
of some objets d'art

that I'm interested
in obtaining.

Why don't you just buy them?

- You look like you can afford it.
- Oh, yes,

yes, I can afford it.

But aside from their
exquisite beauty,

they all have one
thing in common.

What's that?

They're no longer
in the possession

of their previous owners.

They're hot items, Harry.

Right up your alley.

I'm not familiar
with any of this stuff.

- I don't care what it costs.
- You can ask around.

Right? You got connections.

If it were available, I'd know.

Sorry, Mr... Smith?

Smythe.

Are you sure?

Absolutely.

Sorry we can't do business.

Tell you what, though,

I'll have a Scotch on the rocks.

Would you like that with ice?

Marie? Steve,
what's all that noise?

Hi, Frank. Did you
find what you wanted

- at the city clerk's office?
- I think so.

But if I had known it was
gonna take me four busses

to get there and back, I
would've let you drive me.

What is going on?!

Marie is helping
Father Prestwick

nail all the window's shut.

Ow, ow, ow, ow!

Sounds like he missed one.

Father Dowling...

you'll be happy to hear
we're almost finished.

But I had no idea this
rectory had so many windows.

Or that he could hit his
thumb with a hammer so often.

Father Prestwick, it
would have been nice

had you consulted me first.

I think I hear the soup boiling.

Father, don't you want
this rectory to be secure?

Yes. But I also want to be able
to open a window now and then.

Like in the summer.

Oh, Frank, this is just
temporary, until those special

dead bolt locks I
ordered come in.

Frank, I want
you to look at this.

There's something
really strange here.

- Hmm?
- You remember yesterday

when I was helping Jonathan
Cabot put on his cufflink?

It was gold; it was
shaped like an eagle, right?

- Yeah, what about it?
- Right, well,

according to Cabot's
inventory, those cufflinks

were sold at auction
six years ago.

Now, how did he get them back?

I'm afraid I can guess
the answer to that.

Ever since I found
out that those items

could be traced back
to the Cabot estate,

I've been concerned about
Jonathan's involvement.

But...

there might be a way
we can find out for certain.

"Dutch Ambassador
to Host Open House"?

Mm-hmm.

The newspaper that I was looking
at in Jonathan's living room...

- Yeah?
- It was turned to the same page

- as this.
- I don't get it.

Holland is celebrating
the hundredth anniversary

of van Gogh's death this year,

and the Dutch ambassador
is hosting an open house

at the Chicago consulate
to promote tourism.

What am I missing here, Frank?

Patience, Steve.

The Ming vase in that picture...

it's from the Cabot estate.

You've got very
good eyes, Frank.

Thank you.

Now... while I was at
the city clerk's office,

I checked through the
Cabot bankruptcy judgment,

and I found the
names of everyone

that bought a piece of
art at that estate auction.

The Dutch consul
bought the vase.

Mm-hmm, and of the remaining
pieces that stayed in Chicago,

all but two were
stolen: a Fabergé egg...

and that vase.

Did you tell Clancy?

Well, it's only a hunch,
and I haven't got any proof.

Besides, the Dutch consulate
has their own security.

But I think we ought
to go and see Jonathan.

♪♪

I'm Frank Dowling.

I'd like to see
Jonathan Cabot, please.

Oh, I'm sorry, Father.

Mr. Cabot's on a
long-distance call to Tokyo.

He really can't be disturbed.

Was he expecting you?

Well, not really.

Uh, Jonathan used to
be a parishioner of mine,

and, well, we just happened
to be in the neighborhood.

Um, what church do you go to?

Actually, Father, I'm not sure.

You're not sure?

I'm an agnostic.

Oh, oh.

Well, perhaps you'll come
by St. Michael's on Sunday

and give us a shot at you.

I'm not sure I can
make it Sunday.

Oh, well, if you ever
feel like talking about it,

just drop by St. Michael's, hmm?

Maybe I'll do that, Father.

Bye-bye.

- Bye.
- Good-bye.

Cabot's office was empty.

Well, we better get
to the Dutch consulate.

♪♪

Mm-mm, let's go, Steve.

Well, what about Cabot?

He's already been here.
He switched the vase.

What?

There are no Imperial
markings on it. It's a copy.

Well, shouldn't you
tell somebody, Frank?

Steve, the switch could
have been made at any time,

and we have no proof
that Cabot is our thief, yet.

Father, I told you he's
on long distance to Tokyo.

We'll just peek in.

Father Dowling,

what are you doing here?

Well, Sister and I just
happened to be in the area,

and we thought we'd
drop in and say hello,

but we can see you're busy,
and we'll see you in church.

Cabot must have switched vases

just before we got
to the consulate.

That means he wouldn't have
had time to dispose of the real vase

before we found
him in his office.

Now, what do you think
is in that box, Frank?

I'd very much like to know.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Surprise!

Surprise.

Father.

Just what's this all about.
What's going on here?

I was hoping you'd
tell me, Jonathan.

I get the distinct impression

that you suspect
me of something.

Sister Stephanie and
I were in your office

earlier this afternoon,
at the very same time

that someone was
stealing a Ming vase

that used to belong
to your parents.

Now, your secretary
said you were making

a long-distance
phone call to Japan.

That's right.

It's a pretty crucial time
in the Tokyo market.

Jonathan, when Sister
Stephanie looked into your office,

you weren't there.

Really?

Well, there was a moment
when I went to the restroom.

I doubt if Sister Stephanie
would have looked for me there.

Oh, you'd be surprised.

But I guess that explains it.

Well, I guess I'd
better get back

and be host to my
party. Excuse me.

Jonathan, doesn't it bother you

that someone is
stealing all these things

that once belonged
to your family?

Why should it?

Well, don't you feel any anger,
any sense of loss or envy?

I've got my own
family now, Father.

I've got a good life.

I've got more than any
man could ever want.

What's gone is gone.

Anything else?

Excuse me, Father Dowling.

We're gonna be
late for Benediction.

Well, thank you for your
hospitality, Jonathan,

and perhaps the next time
we meet it will be at my place.

Benediction?

Well, I figured it was time

- we got out of there, Frank.
- Mm-hmm.

Listen, while you
two guys were talking,

I checked out the house.

Wherever he's keeping the
stuff he stole, it's not here.

There's one place
we haven't looked yet,

and it's near Jonathan's office.

It's the old Cabot
mansion. Come on.

It's a lot nicer than
where I grew up.

I wonder who owns it?

I don't know.

The house went on the
block with everything else

during the family bankruptcy.

Franz?

Father Dowling,
won't you come in?

Thank you.

A pleasant surprise
to see you, Father.

Oh, Sister Stephanie,
this is Franz Bauer.

He was with the
Cabot family for years.

I was their butler
many years ago, Sister,

when the Father and I
were both young and dashing

and a little less gray.

Dashing, eh?

I'll have to think
about that one.

So do you work for the
new owners now, Mr. Bauer?

No, Sister. I am the new owner.

You, Franz?

Yes, it's somewhat
astonishing, isn't it?

But when Mrs. Cabot died, I
immigrated to South America.

My brother lives
in Buenos Aires.

He gave me a start in
currency speculation,

and the strangest
thing happened...

I made a fortune.

I wish my brother
was that good to me.

Why did you come back
here? Why buy this mansion?

Well, I've always had a
fondness for the old place

and for the Cabots.

You might call
it sentimentality.

Are you going on a trip?

I see all your
furniture's covered up.

Yes, actually, Sister.

I'm returning to Buenos
Aires for an extended visit.

In fact, I really
should finish packing.

Oh, well, we've taken
up too much of your time.

It was nice seeing
you again, Franz.

And you, Father. Sister.

Bye.

Good-bye.

Bye-bye

I think they believed me.

I hope you're right, Franz.

- Good night.
- Good night, sir.

♪♪

Oh!

Oh! Oh, Father, it's you.

Well, of course it's me.
Who did you think it was?

Burglars!

I gotta turn that off!

I set it off myself
four times today.

It's driving me nuts.

Who put that in?

Take a guess.

I think Father Prestwick
was afraid you'd object.

And he just put it in anyway.

Well, it comes out tomorrow.

I will not turn this
rectory into a fortress.

We don't have
anything worth stealing.

What, Frank?

We don't have
anything worth stealing...

but we could have.

It was nice of Mrs. Howard

- to let us use her house.
- And I went to a lot of trouble

to borrow this
Fabergé egg, Father.

I appreciate that, Clancy.

I hope so.

The egg's owner demanded
my captain's personal guarantee

that it wouldn't be lost.

Now, his personal guarantee
is my personal guarantee.

Well, I'm counting on our
thief not being able to resist this.

It's the perfect bait, Clancy.

Are your men in place?

Whoever he is, if
he makes a move,

we got him nailed.

Sold to the gentleman
in the gray jacket.

Do you think he's here, Frank?

Oh, he's here, all right.

This is the last piece
in the Cabot collection,

and he's just arrogant enough

to try and lift it right out
from under our noses.

Yeah, but which one is he?

May we have an
opening bid of 8,200

for this fine silver tea set?

An American classic

from Boston.

Do I have eight-three?

Eight-three. Do
I hear eight-four?

Clancy better raise the
bid if she doesn't want

Mrs. Howard wondering
why we sold her tea set.

Eight-four. Do I
have eight-five?

10,000.

We have $10,000.

$10,000 going once...

twice...

Are we all done at ten?

Sold to the lady
in tan for 10,000.

Our next item

is a recent acquisition

- by the Howard estate.
- Here we go.

A Fabergé egg.

One of the last
jeweled Easter eggs

created by the goldsmith,
Peter Carl Fabergé,

for the Empress
Alexandra of Russia in 1916.

By direction of the estate,
we will open the bidding

at $200,000.

210.

220.

230.

240.

250.

260.

270.

280.

280. Do I hear 290?

Hey, somebody's car's on fire.

- That's my car!
- Not anymore.

The egg!

Police! Seal the room.

Nobody leaves until
they've been searched.

Not again!

Don't worry, Father,
there's no way the thief

can get out of here now.

♪♪

It's so late I was afraid
you weren't coming.

Father Dowling.

Now, why aren't I
surprised to see you here?

I wish I could say I was
surprised to see you.

Shame on you, Father.

You set me up.

I'm afraid so, yes.

Two of the thefts followed
an auction announcement

in the newspapers.

Well, once we realized
we could advertise,

laying the bait was simple.

What gave me away?

Today?

Well, your makeup as the old man

with the pince-nez
glasses was very good.

Your hands gave you away.

It's almost impossible

to age hands.

Although, getting Franz
to set fire to the car

and then arranging to be
seen making his getaway...

well, that... that
was a nice touch.

I began to suspect that
Franz was your accomplice

when I visited the
old family mansion

the other night.

You see, he told me
he'd been to Brazil

and struck it rich...

and that he now
owned the mansion.

But I became suspicious

when I noticed that there were
a couple of silver candlesticks

in the entryway that had
been recently polished,

and Franz, well...

he had silver polish
stains on his hands

and under his fingernails.

And I have yet to
know a rich man

who polishes his own silver.

So I'm afraid the game
is over with, Jonathan.

Too bad you can't
prove any of this, Father,

because if you could, the
police would be here now, too.

Good night.

The man who walked
in to my confessional

wasn't stealing for
greed or avarice.

What other reason could he have?

He was trying to recover what
he thought was rightfully his,

something that was stolen
from him a long time ago.

Maybe he was right.

Jonathan...

what was stolen from
you was your father's love.

And that's something
you can never recover,

no matter how many
paintings you steal.

And the sooner you face
that fact and accept it,

the sooner you can
get on with your life.

Now, you've got to return
everything that you've stolen.

Only by making amends

can you free
yourself of the past.

My stealing that icon...

it matters this much to you?

No, Jonathan...

you matter.

You've been so obsessed
by acting the angry

and dispossessed son

that you've also forgotten
that you're a father.

You've got to ask yourself:

are you a better father to your
son than your father was to you?

I'll give you till midnight to
return everything you've stolen

before I call the police.

♪♪

I don't think he's
coming, Frank.

Officer. Father, what is this?

That's a search
warrant. Read it.

This is a warrant
for your arrest

as an accessory to grand theft.

What are you...?

Oh, next room.

So, where are the goods, Father?

- You said they'd be here.
- I don't know.

Without the goods,
we can't prove anything.

Next time, Father, don't
bet on human nature.

Thieves steal.

If you give them a
chance, they don't reform,

they go on stealing.

I'm really sorry, Frank.

How could I be so
wrong about him?

I think I'll go in the
church for a few moments.

I'll go with you, Frank.

♪♪

That's why,

in a very real sense, the
parable of the Prodigal Son

is about trust

even more than forgiveness.

In a world full of danger,

we have to trust

that there's one
place of safety:

in the hands of our
Heavenly Father.

No matter what
our transgression,

we trust that He will
always forgive us.

As the father in the
parable offers forgiveness

to his wayward son,

when we trust...

when we forgive each
other... our children,

and even our parents,

for their transgressions...

we forgive ourselves.

And with forgiveness,

we become open...

to love.