Original subtitles

♪♪

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.