I'm inquiring as to the whereabouts of a Mr. Hugh Wexler.
You see, he stands to inherit a great deal of money.
Was he a cop?
They beat him to death.
I'm not going back over there and getting my gourd stomped.
You better leave immediately. I'm with the FBI.
Hi, how are you?
(TIRES SCREECHING)
We don't know how much information this Rockford has.
Something will have to be done about him, won't it?
Kill him?
(PHONE RINGING)
ROCKFORD ON ANSWERING MACHINE.. This is Jim Rockford.
At the tone, leave your name and message.
I'll get back to you.
(BEEPS)
MAN.. This is Department of the Army.
Our records show that you are the Rockford, James
who failed to turn in his service automatic in May, 1953.
Contact us at once.
(AIRPLANE ENGINE WHIRRING)
ROCKFORD: I got to tell you, Dad,
as good as it was to get away, people bugging you,
getting away from the grind, it's nice to be home.
(ROCKY CHUCKLING)
Oh, hey, I got you that nice wicker chair that you wanted.
ROCKY: Oh.
And these? Well, now,
these are for picking me up at the airport.
They're Cuban. Oh, boy.
Hey, ain't they illegal, sonny?
You gonna turn me in, what?
Well, I suppose it won't hurt us none to have a few good smokes.
It won't make us into a pair of commies.
Hey, hey, hold it. Hold it right here.
Hold it, hold it right here.
He's taping my door. Huh?
He's taping my door. It's a surveillance technique.
He comes back and if the tape is broken,
he knows the pigeon's back in the coop. Stay here.
Probably won't stick because the paint's peeling, pal.
Hey, Jim. You like to scare me to death.
Billy Merrihew. What do you think you're doing there?
Well, I've been trying to catch you for weeks.
So I figured I'd better start checking the tape
'cause I didn't want to miss you when you got back.
Well, why all the spy tricks?
Why didn't you do something boring
like leave a message on my answer phone?
This is Jim Rockford. At the tone...
(VOICE DISTORTING)
Sounds like that when you call in, too.
Yep. Batteries.
You really think so, Dad? Uh-huh.
I'm sorry, Jim. I tried to leave a message.
Thing is, I need you to do a piece of work for me.
What, overflow? You doing that well?
No, things are rotten, Jim.
I'm not in the biz anymore.
I lost my investigator's license.
Hey, Billy, I didn't know about that. I'm sorry. What happened?
Penal code violation.
Breaking and entering. Oh, that's a shame. Here, have a cigar.
They're genuine Cuban.
Oh, thank you.
I thought somebody's life was in danger.
So I went into this house over in Brentwood.
It's owned by some people by the name of Molinaro.
The Molinaros' life in danger?
No. It was a young actress by the name of Janey Windolf.
Here's a picture of her.
Janey was in trouble.
Sure I knew I was wrong, but she was in trouble.
Not only that, I think she still is.
Dad, weren't you going to make some coffee?
I could sure use some. Well, there's no flame.
The stove's on the blink. It's what?
Wow, I'm late for a 9:30 appointment.
Say, Jim, you got a minute to go for a ride?
Yeah. Yeah, all right. Yeah.
We'll eat out tonight.
Janey is a friend of my client.
Her name is Odette Sorelle. A fashion model.
Odette told me that Janey was in love with this guy named Hugh Wexler.
They met at the Palace Disco. He loved to dance.
Odette got a call from Janey
because Wexler had her holed up in this house
and he was beating up on her bad.
Oh, at the Molinaro place over in Brentwood?
Yeah. He was house-sitting.
Hey, man, 9:30? Yeah, that's right.
Oh.
Well, Odette was afraid to call the cops
because Janey Windolf had some minor police charges in New York.
WOMAN ON PA.. Next. 9:30?
WOMAN ON PA.. Is there another 9..00 here?
So, I staked out the Molinaro house for a whole day.
Nothing, in or out.
I waited until 1 1 :00,
went in, three minutes pass,
the doors flew open and I'm looking into a police .38.
Anyway, there was no trace of Wexler or Janey.
The police talked with the Molinaros' after they got back from Europe.
And they claimed they never heard of the guy.
All right, well, did Odette Sorelle back you up?
Here's where it gets weird.
She was gone from her apartment.
Or maybe she was just a frightened girl who panicked
when she didn't hear from me and she did something dumb
like go back to the Molinaro house by herself.
Yeah, this Odette Sorelle seems to be more than just a client to you,
doesn't she?
All right. All right. Now, if I turn her up or Janey or even Wexler,
you really think you're going to get your license back?
The License Bureau said ''maybe.''
Well, Billy, if I should decide to take this case,
I charge $200 a day plus expenses and you are...
On unemployment.
Don't worry. I'll work it out.
(CLEARING THROAT) 9:30?
9:45.
Oh, right on, right on.
Say, Jim, you know what?
It's like this every Tuesday.
Billy, this is Wednesday. Huh?
You say her name's Janey Windolf? No.
Don't ever remember seeing her around here.
Wish I had, though.
What about the guy I mentioned, Hugh Wexler?
No, don't know him.
Do you think this would cover the cost of a phone call
just in case either one of them show up?
We're not allowed to make personal calls.
Oh, a business call? Well, that's a whole other thing.
Was he a cop? BARTENDER.. I don't know.
But he was looking for Wexler and he had a picture of the girl.
I got his license number. Oh, good, give me it.
Mmm-mmm. We had a deal. You come down and pay for it.
That woman out there has been waiting 10 minutes for a 1 488 in bone.
Well, I don't think we have a 1 488 in bone.
Look, can you take care of her, Carl, please?
I have some very important business to take care of.
You know, we've had this discussion before.
And I'm up to here.
Now, brother-in-law or no brother-in-law,
you either get her the 1 488 in bone
and stay here until closing time,
or you're out in the street.
Mrs. Paul Molinaro? Yes?
John Sikes. Probate Office, Santa Clara County.
I'm inquiring as to the whereabouts of a Mr. Hugh Wexler.
We understand he resides here temporarily.
You are the second person looking for him,
but we don't know a Hugh Wexler.
There must be a fouI-up on some computer.
We don't use a computer.
No. Lengthy investigation has definitely pinpointed Mr. Wexler as residing
at 1518 West Tiger-tail Road.
You see, he stands to inherit a great deal of money.
See, it's been determined that Hugh
is the last living relative of a Mr. Bernard A. Wexler
who died in Palo Alto leaving no will.
And Hugh Wexler is entitled to the entire estate.
Now, if we can't locate him, all monies,
that's several hundred thousand dollars,
will devolve to the State of California.
I hate to see anybody miss an opportunity like that,
but I simply don't know the man.
I'll tell you what I'd like to do.
I'd like to leave you my card, Mrs. Molinaro.
And if by any chance that you should see Mr. Wexler, would you have him call me?
How can I see him when I don't know him?
Problem, Gwen? No, not really, hon.
I'll tell you about it on the way to the club.
I'm sorry I can't help you.
We have to go now. Yes, ma'am, thank you.
You got 30 seconds to tell me
all about your business with Hugh Wexler.
Okay, bub, start yakking. I am in no mood!
(GASPING) Hey, take your foot off my back.
I can't breathe, I'm an asthmatic.
And I'm a Rockette.
(GASPING) I can't breathe. I've got to have some air!
So start talking. I need some air...
Come on. Let's go!
(GRUNTS)
(GROANS)
(GROANING)
(MOANING)
Vern St. Cloud.
Okay, Vern, what's your problem?
Rabies?
Now, look, don't hit me again, mister, will you?
(GROANING) Look, I'm gonna reach in my pocket.
I've got Maalox in there, is all.
Just Maalox. You tore up my ulcer!
(GROANING)
I've heard that name. Vern St. Cloud.
You're a local P.I., right?
You working for Hugh Wexler?
You a friend of his or what?
Go suck an egg.
(GROANING)
Okay, let's go down to police headquarters.
They always like to check up on handgun permits.
You can try your funny lines on their laugh-meter.
Now, look, bub, I've been trying to find Hugh Wexler.
You're the only lead I've had in a month.
Come on, give me a break. Let me go.
I'm sorry I rapped you one.
What did you do it for?
Desperation.
See, I...
I lost my investigator's license.
After 23 years in the crummy P.I. business.
Breaking and entering.
Go ahead and laugh.
Now, hold on, man.
Odette Sorelle came to you
a whole month before she came to me
and asked you to rescue Janey Windolf, right? Yeah.
Except she told you that Janey was being held
at a Santa Monica duplex and not the Molinaro house?
I never heard of no Molinaro house.
I got busted at number 18, Euclid Avenue, Santa Monica.
MERRIHEW: It just doesn't make sense.
''It doesn't make sense.'' It was a setup, you gonzo.
The old frame-ola.
Maybe and maybe there's another explanation.
I mean, how come the Molinaros got so uptight
when you dangled that big carrot over there?
Paul Molinaro has filed for divorce three times.
Grounds, infidelity.
I mean, with her track record,
Mrs. Molinaro's going to have a hard road
trying to explain why people keep coming to her home
asking for a strange man named Hugh Wexler.
It could be that simple, you know.
Well, take it easy, kid.
Odette made a fool of you.
She hit your hot button and promised you the moon.
Well, put it behind you.
Onward and upward.
You're leaving something out, aren't you, Vern?
She stroked you, too.
What was it,
''Oh, Mr. St. Cloud,
''I'd be ever so gratefuI if you'd help me.
''You're so strong and reassuring.''
Something like that, huh?
Why? Why did she set us both up for a fall?
I don't know, but I do know you can forget about
Hugh Wexler calling to claim his inheritance.
And you can forget about Janey, too.
The thing we've got to do is concentrate on finding Odette.
(EXCLAIMING) I'd like to see you try.
She was living at the Montmartre Apartments.
She left a trail so cold an Eskimo would wind up in Sheboygan.
She moved to the Winddrift Apartments
'cause that's where she lived when she came to me.
But she skipped again
and left no forwarding address.
(SCOFFS) It's a complete tapioca.
(CAR HORN HONKING)
Catch the look on his face, kid.
He struck out with the manager just the way we did.
Well, I didn't talk to the manager.
I talked to the switchboard operator.
So did I.
Odette didn't leave a referral number.
Yeah, but what you didn't check on was the outgoing calls.
If you had, you'd have come up
with the Triple R Pet Clinic.
She called them seven times between the third and fifth.
See, these weekly places don't allow pets.
So how come she has one?
And if she has one, where is she keeping it?
At the Triple R Clinic.
And they got to have records on the woman.
All right.
So what? How you going to look the records up?
Odette Sorelle probably isn't even her real name.
I mean, I checked the phone books,
I checked all the model agencies.
That's a waste of time. She's not a model.
All right, she's blue eyes, very thin.
But both of you said that she was 5'4''.
You got to be at least 5'7'' to be a model.
Designer's clothes hang better on taller women.
Who are you, Yves St. Lawrence?
You know, Jim, you are really on the case.
If I wasn't so uptight about my future,
I'd be clicking like that, too.
Say, listen.
Vern and I, we sort of decided to buddy up on this thing.
If it's all right with you, you'd work for both of us?
Billy, you really want to buddy up with that jar head?
You know, I sort of feel bad for the dude.
He's in the same boat I am.
You tell him about the new setup, Merrihew? Mmm-hmm.
Okay, okay, fine.
But the fee does not split.
You want me to work for both of you,
it's $200 a day, apiece, plus expenses.
Wait a minute, that's not fair.
...the case for Merrihew. The work is the same...
(BOTH CLAMORING)
It's the same case, bub. Okay, true, true, it was the same case.
But let's suppose I was a doctor, huh?
And let's suppose that you boys were in the same car
and you had an accident and you both broke a leg.
Now, you wouldn't expect good old Dr. Rockford
to charge for only one bone setting
just because you were both in the same accident, now would you, huh?
(DOG BARKING)
Good morning, sir. May I help you? Well, I sure hope so.
Last month my wife was driving by here
and she saw a young lady walking out carrying a Lhasa Apso.
And Carla said to her friend, ''That's Lilith.''
Our dog, Lilith, ran away.
By the time she whipped her car around and got back, well, the young lady was gone.
Carla said that the girl was about 5'4'',
blond hair, blue eyes, very thin.
There's a Miss Hanrahan that fits that description to a T.
Not little Celeste Hanrahan,
works for Dr. Sheehan in Holmby Hills?
No. Susan Hanrahan.
But she has a cat. A Persian calico.
Was she in here last month? About the third?
Yes.
She had her animal neutered.
But as I said, sir, it's a cat.
Miss, Carla does have her problems
but she can tell a cat from a dog.
I mean, that's rather basic, don't you think?
(PHONE RINGING)
Special Projects.
Hello, Wass?
Garth McCreery. Listen, there's a guy been eyeballing my apartment.
It's going on three hours now. So?
Just had Records run a check on his plates.
His name's Jim Rockford. He's a P.I.
I think we better find out what he wants.
But with my leg... Yeah, yeah, we'll be over.
Look, you just tell Susan not to come home
till we know where this guy's at.
Hi. Hi.
What you doing?
Oh, just putting up my guard. Like I always do
when somebody sticks their nose in my business.
Your business is my business
as long as you're loitering here
staring at those apartments.
We're with building security. No, you're not.
You got out of that Vette back there just a minute ago.
Hi, how are you?
(TIRES SCREECHING)
OFFICER: Outside, buddy. And hands on top of the car.
Have you been drinking, paI? Hi.
Come on, move it, friend.
Hey, Dennis, will you do something about this? I mean, it's ridiculous.
Hey, that's my buddy. Just a minute.
Hey, come on, Dennis, it's a nothing little traffic violation.
Dennis?
Hey, Marv? Marv Potempkin?
What are you doing here, paI?
I'm waiting to be processed out.
You've been arrested? What for?
Couldn't be worse. CCW.
Carrying a concealed weapon? You?
Yeah, me. They really got me, pal.
Witnesses, the whole 15 yards.
You know what this means?
I lose my license.
Finished as a P.I.
What happened, Marv?
Woman came to me, told me her ex
wanted to pay back the two grand he owed her.
Wanted to meet her at the Tao Tao Restaurant.
Well, the guy's a freak.
Usually spends his Christmases in Camarillo.
Now she thought it might be a ploy to get her alone
and maybe for him to lay some heavy numbers on her.
So you brought your gun? Just to scare the guy. You know, just in case.
I mean, you've never done it?
Anyway, I'm having dinner with her
eating Chinese food in this restaurant
when two cops blast in and roust me out of the place.
I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to my client.
And I figured it must've happened in the men's room.
Somebody might have seen me with the gun in my jacket, called the cops.
I should have started my dinner with a Chinese fortune cookie.
You know, Jessica is supposed to go to college this fall.
What am I supposed to do for money?
Get a Mickey Mouse job?
I don't know if you're going to believe this, Marv,
but you're the third P.I. I've met in the last week
with felony counts raining on his license.
Yeah? Who else?
Well, there was Billy Merrihew, Vern St. Cloud.
Vern?
I'm wondering how my client made out.
You know, I forgot about her completely.
Well, if it makes you feel any better,
they were both deliberately set up. Breaking and entering.
Yeah, I'd like to speak to Odette Sorelle, please.
Mmm-hmm.
Well, where's the Big R?
He called this meeting. Where the heck is he?
Okay, Marv, here's my client list going back two years.
And here's Vern's.
See if any of the names ring a bell.
Oh, Merrihew, you and me already went through that dance.
Well, we compared our client lists.
We got no customers in common.
It's no grudge.
So, you know, let's forget about the whole thing.
Hi. How are you?
I checked out the Marquise Apartments.
Odette has scrammed. No trace at all.
What are we fooling around with that slop for?
We know where she really lives, we know her real name.
You should be there right now, Rockford.
I never had any of these clients.
You hear me, Rockford? Get back on your burro,
get over to Susan Hanrahan's apartment.
You hit a nerve there.
That's why they fell on you, bud.
I'm not going back over there and getting my gourd stomped.
Look, if Susan Hanrahan is Odette Sorelle,
she's bound to rabbit if we come at her head on.
I mean, she has got a well-planned operation
that uses a lot of resources, Vern.
I mean, she is systematically destroying P.I.s.
It doesn't make any sense and until it does,
I'm going with a lot of caution.
I'm a P.I., too. Remember?
''Well-planned.''
She's just some kind of sicko, that's all.
She's got a beef against detectives.
Or maybe her old man was one. I don't know.
Oh, well, what about the accomplice who tips off the cops?
Is he a sicko, too?
Maybe little Susie Bananas herself tips off the cops.
I don't think so.
I went back to the Tao Tao Restaurant, Marv.
Now, the parking lot attendant
remembers her arriving in a cab, just like you did.
But she left with a guy.
Tall guy in a three-piece suit.
California license plate, 003 PCE.
Now, he thinks that it was a silver-gray Olds.
Wait a minute. There's a skirt,
the two that jumped Rockford here and now this tall drink of water.
It's a four-man operation.
You know, that's the first
astute observation I've heard you make.
Now maybe you understand why I think
we ought to go at this thing through the back door.
(SIGHING)
Well, I don't know what it is.
But I'm going to kill whoever's responsible.
Not now, you won't. Lunch break's over.
Now, get out here and police up your chair section.
You know you left tissue paper all over the floor.
Boy, I bust my chops in this joint
while he collects welfare. Typical.
I don't collect welfare.
I collect unemployment insurance.
Welfare, unemployment, what's the difference?
It sure enough beats working for a living, don't it?
Well, sir, I don't knows about that, master, sir,
but I do knows, is you better eat your food
so you can have enough strength on the job.
(LAUGHING)
Did you see that? Did you see that?
That's assault and battery.
No. I think it was corned beef and mustard.
Wait a minute, Potempkin.
Wait a minute. Listen. I want to talk to you.
I'll check with you later, Billy.
I want to run a make on these plates.
Listen, let Rockford follow that guy in the Olds.
Why should we sit around and let a hot lead go stale?
Now hold it, Vern.
You don't have a license, I'm about to lose mine.
Look, where is there a law that says a private citizen
can't be watching an apartment building?
Listen, we can spell each other, Potempkin. Simple, right? Huh?
WOMAN 1 ON TV.. Well, he just couldn't bring himself to it.
WOMAN 2.. Neither could I.
Oh, I went up to the room
but Brad was still unconscious.
Or at least he seemed to be.
Oh, Mother, what's this going to do to Brad?
I mean, finding out that Tracy...
Little tip for future reference.
You're gonna do surveillance,
check to see no one's posted to prevent it.
Thanks. You better leave immediately. I'm with the FBI.
Oh, that's nice. My wife's with the PTA.
MAN: Yes, sir. He asked for you personally, sir.
Uh-huh.
Yes.
Mr. Durham?
Oh, yes, yes. Are you Mr. Clair?
What seems to be the problem?
Something to do with some sunglasses you wanted to return?
Well, yes.
My fiancée and I were in the Tao Tao the other night
and you were in the next booth. But when you left,
your lady friend apparently walked off
with my lady's sunglasses by mistake.
Excuse me.
Suz? Ted.
You want to come down here for a second?
Lobby of 1 2. Mmm-hmm.
This is a beautiful building. Just a beautiful building.
I've always wondered
what the inside of the Waterbury was like.
You know, you must be the world's largest
detective agency, except Pinkerton, maybe?
Yes, we're a complete systems security company.
All facets.
Are you a detective? I mean, it must be a fascinating life.
Why don't you have a seat? I'm sure she'll be right down.
Oh, thank you.
(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)
Ted? Ah, Susan.
Mr. Durham, here, seems to feel certain
that you have his fiancée's sunglasses.
Yes. Aren't these yours, Miss?
No, no, they're not. Sorry.
Oh, boy, what now?
That whole night at the Tao Tao Restaurant
was really something.
I mean, a man with a gun being pulled out by the police.
Were you there when that happened?
No, we weren't. Now, if you'll excuse us.
But, Miss, surely you remember the man.
You were sitting with him before Mr. Clair came in. Remember?
Oh, yes.
Ted, I forgot to tell you.
While I was waiting for you, some crazy guy tried to pick me up.
You see, I told you I never liked that restaurant.
It's really a crummy location.
Crummy location but hellatious wonton.
Well, I think that covers it, doesn't it?
Now, if you'll excuse us.
By the way,
Wendell Butterfield was killed
on the Harbor Freeway yesterday.
CLAIR: Hmm, strange how things happen.
Well, he's one we don't have to concern ourselves with.
Was he a family man? I don't remember.
(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)
My brother-in-law left about half an hour ago.
Now, don't ask me where he went.
Yeah, well, if you see him
would you tell him to contact Jim Rockford?
I'll be in Marv Potempkin's office.
Just tell him I've got something important to talk to him about.
Yeah, well, if you see him, tell him I've got something important to tell him.
He forgot to order the sateen wedgies.
Senior prom week and we've got no stock.
No stock at all. Thank you.
ROCKFORD: Marv? Marv?
(DIAL TONE DRONING)
(DOOR OPENING)
Potempkin?
Looks like somebody broke in.
They beat him to death.
Looks like they surprised him.
What's he doing here?
He was supposed to be on a stakeout.
I went to spell him.
What stakeout?
ROCKFORD: Marv wasn't even supposed to be here, Dennis.
He was supposed to be on a surveillance in the palisades.
Vern, get over here and tell him about Susan Hanrahan's apartment.
He already told me. But the killers came through that window.
And the secretary said that they took some petty cash and a typewriter
and some surveillance gizmos and a bowling trophy.
Now, call me a traditionalist,
but to me that adds up to a burglary.
Just maybe it was meant to look like a burglary.
If we had a nickel for every maybe we hear on the job,
we wouldn't need the job. Right, Sarge?
It's my fault, I guess.
I talked him into watching the girI's apartment.
Okay, Billings, thank you.
And as for you two, people usually don't murder other people
for looking at their apartment building.
They didn't want Marv to link up
Susan Hanrahan and Odette Sorelle.
She's a phantom lady who's been running a game
on private detectives all over town.
Do tell? And why is she doing this?
I'm not nuts about your tone of voice, Becker.
It's very simple to understand.
All you have to do is pay attention.
Now, Rockford, he went up to the Waterbury offices...
Vern, Vern. It's my story. Do you mind if I tell it?
Now, look, Dennis, there's a woman, named Susan,
totally fitting the description of Odette Sorelle.
She works at Waterbury. She works with a guy named Ted Clair.
Did you see this Odette Sorelle, St. Cloud?
Is this Susan Hanrahan the same woman?
I never seen Susan Hanrahan.
Dennis, while Susan and Clair were walking back to their office,
I overheard them talking about somebody named Wendell Butterfield.
Said he got killed on the freeway
and they wouldn't have to bother with him anymore.
Who is Wendell Butterfield?
Well, now, that was my question exactly.
So I went through the phone books.
This is a page out of the Orange County Yellow Pages.
''Wendell B. Butterfield.
''Discreet personaI investigation since 1958.
''We care.''
All right, so he was no whiz at advertising copy.
He was a P.I. till some diesel truck put him out of business.
Now, Waterbury won't have to do it
like they did with Marv and Vern and Billy Merrihew
and a few other guys I've been checking on.
Gee, you people have an inflated picture of your own importance.
One of the world's foremost security firms
and they're worried about the little neighborhood stores, right?
There's always a big attrition rate in your business.
You people are flaky, undependable.
Hey, flaky?
Yes. And you have your moments, admit it.
Look at this case history.
This guy busts into an old lady's house.
Our dead man started to flash his gun in a Chinese restaurant.
And this kind of thing is not unusual.
So let's not blame it on some kind of a gigantic plot.
Dennis, will you just check out Susan Hanrahan? And the Waterbury operation?
I have no reason to.
Well, Dennis...
Well, that's that.
We got no proof.
Vern, why don't you...
Why don't you just go sell shoes, huh?
I understand that your department had something to do with that.
No. We called in Sticks and Stones.
They were to interrogate him and apply physical pressure.
No one could have foreseen
that the situation would eventuate
into a heart attack.
Special Projects Office
isn't trained for interrogation.
They're trained for subduing ex-husbands and bodyguarding rock stars.
A 20-point reduction in the small agencies' share of the market
is what we were after.
In terms of our overall operation, that isn't too big a deal.
You were given good operatives,
their salaries totaling over $84,000.
And yet, suddenly, it is a big deal.
It's a bloody mess.
And I don't like spending my time on things like this.
Now I'm told that James Rockford
may very well be on to what we were about.
Why haven't you disenfranchised him in your program?
He was fourth on the list.
Unfortunately, he was on an extended vacation when we tried to contact him.
We weren't even aware that he had returned.
My program was working well.
The fact that a man had a coronary and died...
You've allowed two of your people to cohabit,
isn't that so?
Hanrahan and McCreery?
Mr. La Pointe, it is the 1970s, isn't it?
Back in the 1860s, when Judah Waterbury founded this company,
some human beings liked to play house even then.
And so they did. But not while they worked for him.
It was sloppy practice then and it is sloppy practice now.
If Hanrahan and McCreery had not been living together,
he wouldn't have broken his leg while skiing with her.
He wouldn't have been recuperating at her house
and the Special Projects thugs wouldn't have been called in.
What have you done about containment?
Hanrahan has been taken out of the city.
All evidence of her hiring has been shredded.
The program, needless to say, has been deactivated.
The paperwork and the cost figures
will be shipped to the London office as soon as possible.
We don't know how much information this Rockford has.
Something will have to be done about him, won't it?
Like what?
Kill him?
I didn't say that.
(DOOR OPENS)
(DOOR CLOSES)
You must be out of your gourd.
Twenty-three years in the crummy business
and I never heard anything so nuts.
How do we get past the guards?
How do we find where they keep the records?
The Waterbury is a 15-story building.
ROCKFORD: 16.
What's the difference, for the love of Mike?
Plenty.
They have a 13th floor in that building, but they got it hidden.
And that's where the office that Susan and Clair work.
How do you know that, Einstein?
Because Clair met me in the lobby, not in his office.
And Susan came down the stairs, she didn't take the elevator.
Then afterwards, I saw them walk up a locked staircase.
When I got in the elevator, I looked at the elevator indicator,
and it said 15 floors, skipping 13 as usual.
So what?
Well, when I got outside, I counted the rows of windows in the building.
There were 16, not 15.
But we still have the whole floor to search.
We don't know where Clair's office is.
And how much time we have to waltz around up there?
Well, we can narrow that down, too.
You can create a diversion
while we get by the guard in the lobby and into the building.
Forget that. You're not handing old Vern his lunch.
The sap who makes diversion is the sap on the spot.
You're going to do it, Vern.
You're the guy who talked Marv into a casket.
Now, he had a wife and kids.
Now, there could be a lawsuit but there won't be
unless we turn up some proof of foul play.
Well, yeah, I know, but...
Look, Merrihew, look what he's proposing.
Another break and entering.
You want to risk that?
Do you want to get your license back?
This is the last chance you're gonna get to do it.
Boy, you're on a real crusade, aren't you?
You're a regular Sir Guinevere.
I don't like what's happening to my friends
and I don't like what's happening to my profession.
Oh, yeah?
Am I your friend?
WOMAN ON PA.. Mr. Anderson,
please report to the investigation office on the 10th floor.
There's nobody on 13.
Nobody anywhere but in the lobby.
So far, perfect.
My dad'll be calling Clair's extension in about five minutes.
I'll make my call, too.
ANNOUNCER ON TV.. ...looks it over.
(SIREN WAILING)
OFFICER: Come on, we got a jumper on the roof.
The call just came in. Come on.
I don't see anybody.
It's over there. Come on, let's go.
(ANNOUNCER CHATTERING ON TV)
Go away and leave me alone.
(GLASS SHATTERS)
Just take it easy, buddy.
Just take it easy.
VERN: Leave me alone!
(PHONE RINGING)
OFFICER 1.. Let's just take it real, real cool, now.
Settle down.
Chat him up.
OFFICER 2.. Sir, please don't stand so close.
Stay back from the edge a little, okay?
Come on, who's got the keys?
Now, look, go get the master keys. I'll get them.
Come on, shake it.
(RINGING)
Yeah, Dad? Yeah. We're in.
Yeah, Rocky.
Dad, not now, okay?
How you doing over there?
Ah, I haven't found nothing yet.
(SIREN WAILING)
Go on.
WOMAN: Anybody know who he is?
Don't they put a net out or something?
(HORN HONKING)
(SIREN WAILING)
MAN: I saw something like this on the Golden Gate Bridge.
There's just graphs and memos. There's got to be something here.
Oh, man, they cleaned everything out.
(SIRENS WAILING)
Get out. Don't come near me!
We're not moving. See?
My name's Phil. What's yours?
Suck an egg.
Hey, you... You have any kids, buddy?
I do. Couple of them.
Let me show you their pictures.
I know what you're trying to get at.
Just stay away from me.
WOMAN 1 : It must be 300 feet up.
WOMAN 2: Does he work in there?
Hey. Potempkin, Marvin.
Oh, look at this.
They got gross earnings, 75, 7 4.
Logs, times, dates.
Oh, hey, here's the meeting at the Tao Tao.
Tally of the man hours and everything.
Uh-huh, there's Wendell Butterfield
and here's Harry Telfair and here's mine.
And here's the Molinaros' address
and the Molinaros' travel dates.
Let's take this stuff.
Okay. Got it.
Hey.
Hey, hey. We can't take the elevator.
There'll be people, remember? Come on.
Just take it easy.
All right, all you people down there, please disperse.
Please disperse.
You're not doing the man up here on the roof any good. Please disperse.
Take it easy now.
(WOMAN CHATTERING ON RADIO)
Hold it. What are you two doing here?
Where's the nearest liquor store?
I said, hold it.
Answer me. The man on the roof has demanded more beer.
Now, where can I get it?
You two were up there?
We're police psychiatrists. Now, stop wasting time.
I got to get over to the man's home and coach his wife.
There's Barry's Wine Cellar near Camden.
Okay, you get on that, Hank.
I'll get a black and white to go over to the man's home Code Three.
Now, he wants Rocky Mountain brand.
Try and spike it with some chlorpromazine.
I got some in my bag in the car.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING)
Jump! Jump!
Good old Vern.
Hey, mister, come on now, we're your friends.
We don't want you to jump.
Jump? I never said I was going to jump.
Come on, get him.
Here, you want a beer?
It wasn't as totally nefarious as it seems.
You small timers can't even provide your clients
with decent high-quality service.
We can.
Put him in the second-floor lockup.
You know that guy was once an FBI agent?
And he copped out on his friends like a Hollywood junkie.
We're picking up the two muscle heads now
and they'll all face homicide charges.
Tell me, you have any idea
who your anonymous friend at the Waterbury company was?
The one who sent these records
in this mysterious plain brown envelope?
I wish I knew, Dennis. I really do.
I'd like to thank him. Or her.
Yeah.
Well, I think you've got everything you need.
You got our statements. I think we'll be going.
These two gentlemen have an appointment
with the Investigator's Licensing Bureau.
Not me. First I got to have my daily chat
with a psychiatric social worker.
On account of the suicide.
You see, nobody believes that I wasn't despondent.
(CHUCKLING) Me! Despondent.
You're lucky no criminal charges were filed against you.
For what? Drinking beer on the roof?
He's a good man.
He's a sap.
He's a friend of mine.
Oh, come on, you guys, we hit it right on the bull's eye.
We should be dancing. No more unemployment. No more shoe stores.
You're right, Billy.
Matter of fact, I got some champagne left over from my dad's birthday.
What do you say we pop a cork later tonight?
Hey!
How about it, Vern? A little champagne? For Marv.
In a couple of weeks
we are going to be competing with each other all over again.
Dog-eat-dog.
Oh, so what, man? Let's bury the hatchet.
Bury the hatchet. That's a catchy phrase.
Very original.
Hey, come on, Vern, we went through a lot together.
Let's be friends.
I'll see you guys around.
Hey, fellas.
Don't take any wooden nickels.