Put it on the table. Thank you.
Put it on the table.
She is immortal.
A thousand years old and she cannot die.
A creature of legend...
like the raven,
a thief who stole the sun and the moon.
They sent a warrior to bring her back.
He found her.
Together, they brought back light to the world.
I was a cop.
To me she was just a thief,
another day on the job.
But she wasn't-- She changed my life, changed everything.
And both of us knew from that moment on,
nothing would ever be the same.
Amanda.
Did I come at a bad time? Uh, no. No.
Come on in. Want something to drink?
Uh-- Coffee or-- I might have some wine around here somewhere.
No, thanks.
Please.
You know, I think this is a bad idea.
- Maybe, maybe not. I don't know what you want. - There's this guy I know.
It's not like that. It used to be like that,
sort of, but it's not like that anymore.
I'm listening.
Well, his name is Charlie,
and I knew him a long time ago.
"A long time ago. " I thought I wasn't supposed to interfere in Immortal business.
It's not. He's not. He thinks his son was murdered.
- Has he been to the police? - Yeah, the police, the F. B. I.
Anybody who'll listen to him. They all tell him it was an accident.
He doesn't buy it. No, he doesn't.
What can I do?
Well, you know, your, uh-- your cop thing.
Amanda, losing a kid kills you.
It's a horrible thing.
You start looking for reasons. You question everything.
Charlie's not like that. Maybe not, but--
What can I do that the cops haven't done?
You're right.
This was a mistake. This Charlie,
he means a lot to you, huh?
For 30 years, he's kept my secret.
Now he's older.
He's too old to find out if his son was killed.
So... he needs us to be young for him.
Oh, you really don't want to go there, Reverend.
But do you ever listen to me?
Of course not. Checkmate!
Hello.
So this is him.
Nick Wolfe, Charles Johnson. Charlie.
She said you were good. Are you?
I don't know. That depends.
Why do you think your son was murdered?
Right to the point.
No B. S. I like that.
How do I know I can trust you?
You don't.
Here, now, never. It's up to you.
- Is he one of you? - No. But he knows.
- I trust him, Charlie. - Have a chair.
You know, you get involved with this,
you might have an accident like my boy.
- You think so? - Oh, I know so.
You might suddenly decide to... make toast in the bathtub,
brush your teeth with cyanide,
take a nap in your car, windows closed, motor running.
You say you think your son had anarrangedaccident. Why?
Because that's what they do! The sons of bitches killed my son!
Three days.
Three days he was gonna be married.
Beautiful girl. Smart, too, just like him.
You know what, Amanda? You know what else?
He asked me to be his best man.
He loved you, Charlie. Yeah.
I know that.
You know,
for years...
we didn't talk.
My fault.
Then they killed him.
You know what they tell me here?
"Take your medication, Charlie.
Don't get aggravated, Charlie. "
Well, I'm angry, and I'm gonna damn well stay angry, Charlie!
Tell me what happened.
There's four scientists all working on the same project, and three turned up dead.
The police, N. S. C. -- They're all covering it up.
- Those are big accusations. - Just before he died, he came to visit me.
He looked terrible.
I asked him what was wrong.
He told me... he deleted...
every file, every disk.
He shredded all his research. Ten years' worth.
- He didn't say why? - His job was top secret.
I never knew exactly what he was working on.
None of this proves it was murder. You need a reason?
Same reason as Honduras in '54,
Chile, '67, Beirut, '72.
When people need someone to shut up, they have an accident.
Spoken like someone who knows.
Counterintelligence-- that was my life,
back when the battle lines were clear.
The enemy was an evil empire. And the end always justified the means.
A chess game. That's all the spy business ever was.
You sacrificed a pawn, lost a knight or two.
They weren't people. They were pieces.
You did anything, whatever it took, but you didn't lose.
I didn't lose. But then came the Prague spring.
You're not celebrating. I'm sorry.
You haven't touched your champagne.
Not even a toast to the new Czechoslovakia?
Smart money says Dubcek will be dead or in a Russian gulag within a month.
Really? And what do you say?
What time have you got?
How can one so beautiful...
be so cynical?
Let's just say I've been here before.
So have I. But it is 1968.
Maybe this time things will be different.
It's never different.
The eyes of the world are on Czechoslovakia.
It's hard to invade a nation when it's on the 6:00 news.
No one will care. History will.
It will judge the Russians very poorly if they invade now.
History only judges the losers.
The winners, it justifies.
You may be right.
But until then--
I wasn't always an old fart in a retirement home.
You know who I was? I was you, kid.
Nobody at the Company screwed with Charlie Johnson.
Nobody.
If someone killed your son, Charlie, we'll find him.
I promise you that.
Looks like Charlie found someone to believe him.
Who are they? How the hell should I know?
See what they're driving and find out.
I already put in 10 hours. My heart bleeds for you.
Don't make any plans for the weekend. There goes my son's soccer game.
Don't tell me about your son. My wife's gonna kill me.
It's her mother's birthday.
He's an interesting guy.
How'd you meet him?
In Prague, about 30 years ago.
He worked at the American Embassy, and I--
Well, that's another story.
Oh.
Knew him well, did you?
We, um, danced.
"Danced. " As indanced?
As injustdanced.
Uh-huh.
All right. What do we do next?
"We"? How many murders have you solved?
- You'd be surprised what I've done. - No, I wouldn't.
- You go home. I'll call you if I need you. - Not in this century.
Look, we can do this apart, and I'll get in your way, or we can do it together.
- And you'll get in my way. - You think he's right?
I think he's looking to blame someone.
Look, he's 70 years old.
His son's dead. Everyone thinks he's senile. He just won't give in.
Can you imagine what he must have been like 35 years ago?
Oh, yeah. You don't have to.
What's it like? What?
Ah, being immortal.
Well, it's like being mortal, except you get to live a little longer.
Ask a stupid question.
Well, you get to see everyone you know and love...
grow old and die.
You get to touch them and hold them, and then they're gone.
But... you take parts of them with you.
But it's funny.
They all know things I'll never know and touch things I'll never feel.
If you could choose?
I don't get to choose.
You wanted a cop, you got one.
There's gotta be something in here.
Milton Polk hit a tree doing 80 miles an hour.
He had a blood alcohol level three times the legal limit.
Frank Mitchelson died of a heart attack.
He was 70 pounds overweight and suffered from high blood pressure.
Meanwhile, Charlie's son chokes on a ham and shrimp on rye.
All within three months of each other. I don't know.
I think I'm with Charlie. Police reports, coroners' reports.
Some people say if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck--
What do you say?
Dr. Lars Schiller, fourth member of the team, he's still alive.
I say we go duck hunting.
Quack, quack.
So, when we get inside, who gets to be the good cop and who gets to be the bad cop?
We're not cops. So what are we gonna say?
"Hi. It's none of our business, but we're investigating a possible federal conspiracy.
"Three people are dead, and you may be next.
And, sir, how are you today? "
Let's just knock on the door.
Ring the bell? Fine.
Ooh! One hell of a party.
Stay here.
Right.
Maybe the good doctor had a case of spring cleaning.
Get down! Why?
"Why? Why? "
"Why? "
Dr. Schiller?
It's a terrible, terrible thing.
If you feel up to it, this officer will take the rest of your statement.
Will that be all right? Fine.
Hey, Wolfe, what are you doing here? I thought you quit playing cops and robbers.
Chase MacAffee, investigative reporter, a major pain in the ass, Amanda.
Don't mind him. He says the same thing about me.
I smell a fed. Hmm? Hmm.
Suicide.
They say it's the ultimate expression of anger.
I'd be pissed off too if somebody blew my brains out.
Three guesses. What's a federal agent doing here investigating a local suicide?
One project, three men dead. They don't think it's a suicide either.
What are the feds doing here?
If you'll excuse us.
Oh, you think I'm just gonna go away?
Yes, I do.
Okay, that's it. Let's go. Come on.
You must be the two that Charlie sent over.
I'm Martin Foster. Oh, you know him.
Yes, I do. It's very nice to meet you.
Uh, yeah, Charlie, he's a great old guy.
Everybody likes Charlie. He's, uh--
You know, he used to be one of our best. Yeah.
You should get him to tell you his theory on the Kennedy assassination.
He does a run on Ruby. It's a mindblower.
- And-And that rap guy in Las Vegas. Uh-- - Tupac Shakur?
- That's the one. Yeah. - So you don't believe him.
Well, I-- I just think Charlie has...
a little too much spare time on his hands, you know?
You spend your life looking under rocks, you see worms everywhere,
especially, uh, when you need someone to blame.
It's a terrible thing that happened to his son.
Ah, well, if you'll, uh, keep this.
What's this for? That's just in case Charlie's right.
Please say hi to him for me, will you?
Mmm.
Very open and considerate and friendly.
A whole new breed of federal employee. Almost makes you wanna like him.
Almost.
So, uh, I guess I was right, huh?
They're good. No fingerprints, no footprints.
I'll bet there's even powder burns on his hands.
They got everything but a suicide note. So I was right.
Charlie was right. You can't say it, can you?
You really want my approval? Okay, Amanda, you were right.
Thank you. No, I don't. And we're not finished.
Whoever killed Schiller didn't find what they were looking for.
Oh, this is your professional opinion?
Well, why did they kill him?
We showed up. They had to improvise.
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.
Tell me, Charlie, why did you have to bring in those outsiders?
You never would have done anything like that in the old days, Charlie.
Opening the department up to questions, investigations.
Ooh, it's-- it's not good, Charlie.
They're just gonna find the proof and get the sons of bitches that killed my boy.
Nothing wrong with that.
You see, that's exactly what I'm talking about, Charlie.
It used to be that you'd put national security first-- before family, before your son.
You know, doing this-- It's not gonna make up...
for all those years that you weren't there for him.
Get out!
It's too bad-- what happened to Chuck.
A wedding coming up. Expensive one too, I hear.
A new house. A pretty fianc? who likes nice things.
That kind of lifestyle must cost a lot of money, huh?
- You going somewhere with this? - Oh, come on, Charlie.
Don't make me say it. We start digging into his bank accounts,
checking his phone logs, who knows what we might turn up?
Or invent. The theft of government property,
industrial espionage, maybe even treason.
Hmm?
No.
Not true.
Chuck loved his country,
loved his work.
- That's the truth. - And you know the truth, don't you, Charlie?
Well, you should.
You helped manufacture it for 30 years.
You bastard!
You mess with my boy's good name, I'll take you down.
How are you gonna do that, old man?
Those friends of yours?
You think they're gonna do it? Those two amateurs?
What's that I smell?
I think it's another tragic accident.
Get out! Get out!
It's not up to me, Charlie. It's up to you.
Just a little friendly advice.
We were never friends.
Oh, come on, Charlie.
Are you kidding me? You taught me everything I know.
We'll see you around, old-timer.
I'm the one who convinced Chuck to stay out of the spy business.
"You're smarter than your old man," I told him.
"Be a doctor. Be a scientist.
Be... someone who knows he'll make it home to his wife and kids every night. "
It was a mistake.
An accident, just like they said.
You really think so?
I said it, didn't I?
Something changed your mind.
Maybe I started taking my medication again.
Maybe you heard about Schiller's suicide?
So they win.
They always win.
Look, just... let it go, all right?
Fine. Whatever you say, Charlie.
Then it's over.
You really don't believe it was an accident, Charlie.
Doesn't matter!
I'm asking you to let it be.
You've been a great friend to me.
I love you, Charlie.
I'm sorry I bothered you.
Were you bothered? I wasn't bothered.
Do I look bothered?
See, I told you they didn't find what they were looking for.
Right again.
See, you can be so nice when you want to.
Well, whatever it was, it's gone.
Whateveritis.
So where to now? The office or the lab or--
The garden. Huh?
Schiller was a botanist. So?
So what do you think? They were looking for something in there or out here?
There's not much there.
Great tomatoes. They're not even planted.
Gun!
I hope these guys aren't who I think they are.
Feds.
I hate it when that happens. Come on.
Ow! Hold still.
You're no Florence Nightingale. Oh, well, no one was like Flo.
We were very close.
Where's Lucy when I need her?
She's finishing her astronaut training. Right.
And what were you doing out there? Reacting.
Yes, like a mortal. You know, I'm not the girl. I'm an Immortal.
I get shot, I get back up. You get shot, you get dead.
Oh, this is harder to open than Pandora's box.
I can't believe I killed a federal agent.
It was self-defense. Besides, if those two were doing anything legal,
don't you think someone would be knocking at our door by now?
-They were still federal agents. -No, they were covert ops.
There won't even be a record they ever existed.
"Covert ops"? What, did Charlie teach you that?
Uh, no. Mata Hari.
- Get out. - Mmm.
Give me that.
So much for the greatest thief in the Western world.
You really think I'm the greatest?
Open it.
You gotta be kidding.
Taxi. Taxi!
A couple locals drop in, and my agents start dropping like flies?
The guy is a pro, twice decorated for valor. He's an ex-cop. He's a nobody.
What about her?
Amanda Montrose, alias Amanda Devereaux, alias... a dozen other names.
Suspected jewel thief-- You know, all this is not telling me--
why are they still alive?
My God.
Oh, my God.
They did it.
- They actually did it. - Did what, Charlie?
I asked you to let this go. Too late.
I won't have... any more deaths on my conscience.
There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anybody can do.
Nick, let me talk to him.
Charlie.
I'm such a helpless, useless piece of crap. Oh, Charlie.
Sometimes... I get up in the morning,
and my back doesn't ache, and my knees don't crack,
and then I look in the mirror,
and I wonder...
who that old man staring back at me is.
Amanda, I'm still me inside.
Problem is, you're still you outside.
Oh, Charlie, don't you wanna know the truth?
The truth?
The truth doesn't belong to people like you and me anymore.
The truth belongs to the winners. Always has.
Are you staying long in Prague? A few days.
Business? Not always.
So what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?
I'm here to rob the national bank.
Really? Would I lie to you?
And what are you doing here?
I'm a spy... trying to stop a military coup led by the Russians.
Really? Would I lie to you?
- I have a couple days off coming at the embassy. -Do you?
A friend of mine has a lovely chââteau down by the ocean in Normandy.
He says I can use it anytime I like. How nice for you.
I was wondering. Perhaps--
If we could go there and eat tons of caviar...
and drink champagne with strawberries...
and have a mad, passionate affair?
Mmm. Sounds about right.
Don't you think we should know each other a bit longer before we do something like that?
How much longer?
At least until the waltz is over.
I think our waltz is over.
No. No, no, no. It's gonna be okay.
You two, come with me. Yes, I know.
Security!
Over there!
History only judges the losers.
The winners, it justifies.
You know that.
History.
I gotta tell you something, Charlie. History's not all its cracked up to be.
Governments and civilizations-- they come and go.
Half a million sunsets later, who the hell cares what history says?
What really counts...
are the people you love and how they remember you.
Thank you.
I made one big mistake.
I got old.
Estrogen. What?
You wanted to know about these damn seeds? I don't get it, Charlie.
From May of '71 to August '75. It was my project.
A drug-resistant wheat hybrid laced with estrogen, progesterone.
You know how much the government spends in foreign aid?
Much more economical to just wipe out the population.
Saturate their country with estrogen.
No blood spilled on the evening news.
Just a natural, steady decline in the population.
Works on both friends and enemies.
You're talking about mass birth control.
Hell of a lot cheaper than bombs and bullets.
So they did it. They made it work.
Each one played their part, including my son.
They must have put the pieces together, realized what they had.
And then they were killed before they could go public.
Party's over. We got company.
- The front and the back will be sealed. - Better find another way out.
Come on, Charlie.
Don't get excited. Winnie Howell died this morning.
They always shut the doors. They don't want anybody to see the body.
Come on.
You two, check out the woods.
You, up there.
You, the far wall, you, the terrace.
Wait! You forgot to take Mrs. Howell!
Get in the car! Go! Move it!
I wish I knew where we were going.
They'll have both your places staked out. You can bet on that.
The truth is, we can't hide from these guys.
There you go. They're on us already.
What are you trying to do, get us killed?
Just arrested.
Well, what do we have here?
Grand theft auto.
Oh, I get it.
You're Bonnie,
you're Clyde, and you're old enough to know better.
Hey, I'd like my phone call.
Ooh, everybody's a lawyer.
Hey, do I know you?
Yeah. I used to be on the job.
Yeah, Wolfe. Nick Wolfe.
-What are you doing stealing a hearse? - He was dead tired.
Oh. Funny man.
Listen, you with the face, we know our rights.
He gets a phone call.
A phone call. Yes.
All right.
Wait.
You really think he was murdered by the feds?
What's in the envelope?
That's what I thought you said.
Twenty-first Precinct, front desk. I'll be there.
You better be right about this.
I bet you lettered in two sports in high school.
Three.
Chuck never liked sports.
Mostly because I liked them so much, I guess.
- How long were you with the agency? - Almost 35 years.
Why'd you leave?
It's kind of complicated.
I guess I got tired of lying.
Why'd you stop being a cop?
Kind of complicated.
You two were meant for each other.
Out.
- You sure about that, son? - What'd I just say?
Why?
What do I know? Charges were dropped.
- Hey, what about my envelope? - It's gone.
Shut up, man!
Ahem. Special friends fast approaching.
Time for an adult discussion. Why am I not surprised?
Charlie, I thought we had an understanding. You thought wrong.
I did, huh? You have something that belongs to me.
Not anymore. Consider this very seriously:
There's a lot of gang warfare out there these days,
and you, as an ex-cop, should know how easy it is...
to be the innocent victim of a drive-by.
Am I getting through to you?
And you, Charlie, my friend,
something painless as a professional courtesy.
Maybe arsenic in your medication.
And you wonder why you're still single.
Or you can hand over the seeds.
- You can go to hell. - Right after you, Charlie.
You know what? We don't have them. More games.
No. You know what? He's right. He's right.
This game is over.
I wanna show you something.
Two minutes. In my hand or you're dead.
What time you got, Foster? 7:00.
Perfect.
What are you talking about?
Well, you wanted the seeds. There they are.
And now this special bulletin.
Until this reporter was supplied with the evidence herself--
signed affidavits testifying to a conspiracy of incredible proportions.
A plot to sterilize millions by lacing grain with the hormone estrogen.
Implicated directly are the National Security Council and the Department of Defense.
The director of the C. I. A. declined to comment.
- We'll have more details later. - Croissant?
Now back to Andrews Field--
You still don't realize the game that you're playing.
You can't win. None of you are gonna walk away from this.
Tell it to the grand jury.
-We did everything we could do. - Ten straight days of testimony,
and the son of a bitch walks in record time.
Unindicted coconspirator, my ass.
The grand jury knows he's guilty, and still he walks?
National security. Lies.
It's politics. More lies.
Did you see Charlie's face? No. We need to find him.
One question! Mr. Foster,
do you have any response to the grand jury's findings?
Miss MacAffee, I have spent my life in the service of my country.
I believe that the interests of the grand jury, this nation...
and my department are all the same--
the truth.
And I can only hope that one day the truth will out.
- Thank you. Thank you. -
F. B. I. ! Get down! Oh, my God!
Help him! Help him! Get down! Get down! Take cover!
Charlie! Charlie!
Charlie!
Now we know the truth.
Yes, we do.
It's gonna be okay. I know.
Would you look at this headline?
"Senior Citizen on Shooting Rampage. "
Oh, what they've done to him.
Easier to buy than the truth.
The truth is, a hundred years from now,
no one's going to remember any of this.
How do you do it?
How do you hang on to all the Charlies and Lucys?
The really great ones, they don't let you forget them.
- To Charlie. - Charlie.
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