How is the book going, Jack?
It's real good. It's a dynamite subject.
Get off of this...
(MEN SHOUTING)
Hey! Hold it!
You show your face here again, I'll kill you.
What's going on here?
A private investigator lives here? You hired a snoop?
What you're trying to print are lies.
Consider them long and hard before you commit them to print.
I'm supposed to consider all this while I'm dropping to the concrete.
I think I know a way we can muzzle this Rockford. Killing him?
Hey, somebody call the cops!
You all right?
(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: Jim, I have finally finished 12 long years of psychotherapy
and I'm now able to tell you just what I think of you.
Would you please call me?
WOMAN: I'm afraid you don't seem to be hearing me, Mr. Turkell.
I really don't need an encyclopedia.
Oh, Mrs. Fornechefsky, if you had any idea
how many people tell me that and end up with these books,
you'd be almost embarrassed to say it.
I'm afraid not.
Just one more question, if you will.
Our records show that you have a daughter, Nancy.
Now let's send Nancy a set of these for Christmas, huh?
Our Christmas rates start in two weeks and I could pre-date it.
My daughter, Nancy died 16 years ago
when she was 18 of a burst appendix.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
And terribly late.
Bob, you got a minute?
One minute, Mr. Collier.
I'm out anyway, fellas.
What are you doing here, Stan?
I got some hot business that won't wait. Do you mind?
What did I tell you about coming into my personal life like this?
You told me. You told me. Big deal.
I'll fall down from worry.
What do you want?
I need ten grand, Robert.
Didn't my accountant call you?
I told him no more until we get this real estate mess all sorted out.
Now get out of here.
Hey, I don't want you to think of me as not being grateful, Bob.
Get the checkbook out. I need the cash.
What's it for this time?
Same thing. I told you.
What? Well, I hate to say it here,
before I announce it publicly,
because advance knowledge can undermine the whole effort.
Are we walking about the state senate again, Stan?
Keep your voice down, will you?
Nothing doing. No way.
I'm not having you run for public office and you know why.
Bob, that's 20 years old.
Look, Stan, we've got a disaster with Collier Products.
I'm not gonna stand here and take a lot of flack about Collier Products.
That's yesterday's news.
So we pick up the pieces, we go on.
That's what free enterprise is all about.
Free enterprise is about making money.
You want to take some flack, what about Collier Real Estate?
Did you get my letter?
You spent $20,000 last week on local TV advertising.
Our business can't support that.
It's for me?
You know, that's class. That's real class.
You write the check, Bob. I'll see what they want at the office.
Yeah.
Hey, Stan, is that you, really?
What are you doing at the Lincoln Executives Club?
When I called the number you left, I almost fainted, you know?
Anyway, I wanted to tell you I think I got a nibble on Weiler Place.
Is that why you called me here?
For the love of God, Jo Ann.
Guess who's interested? Who?
JO ANN: Jack Skowron.
He said his name was Jack McWhirter, but it's Jack Skowron.
Remember him?
No. Who's Jack Skowron?
Well, he seemed to want to know about you. He kept asking questions.
Who is he?
He wrote the bestseller in the '50s, Free Fall to Ecstasy, remember?
I bought it, but I never finished it.
All I remember is it's about this guy, Rollo,
who jumps off the roof in the first chapter
and then, like, free associates all the way down.
And, by the fourth chapter, I stopped reading.
Oh, wait a minute. Wait.
This guy says he's a friend of mine?
Well, no. See the thing is,
and the reason I called, was I got the feeling
that he was, like, maybe investigating you.
Isn't that funny?
Another mortuary special.
Boy, the mortality rate at this high school was really something, huh?
Yeah. Only Nancy Fornechefsky didn't die in Vietnam.
You know, Jimbo, sometimes I look at a statistic like this dead Fornechefsky kid
and I say to myself, how come?
It's a one-act drama with an early curtain.
You know, I did a piece once for The Saturday Review.
It was on slice-of-life drama.
It was a pretty shrewd piece of writing, Jimbo,
because life, and this is worth holding onto,
life is episodic.
Full of second act complications which are never revealed to us,
making, in my considered opinion, Ibsen's three-act structure merely a device.
Don't you agree? Hmm.
Here's a complication that can be revealed. What's this?
Well, the time, material, expenses for two days on the job.
I thought we ought to keep this on a professional basis.
Great. I'll initial it and send it in to my publisher as an expense.
Oh, you'll have to wait a couple of days.
Yeah, well, I'm into my pocket a ways on this thing, Jack.
Hey, that reminds me,
did you ever get Bill Simpson to give you my two weeks severance
after I left Carpetown way back then?
Yeah, I sent it to you, Jack. Years ago.
Never got it.
'Course I was living in the Village then.
And you did not pick up your mail
because the loan collectors were ten deep at the mail box.
Jimbo, huh? No, no, no, no.
Yeah, had to keep moving.
Live with a good-looking little bird, clip her wings, then move on.
Those were the days.
Did you know that Free Fall to Ecstasy
was actually written in four different apartments?
How's that for a vital stat?
Well, we might get it in the Atlantic Monthly.
Yesterday's news, my boy.
Like our friendship which has gone a cropper along with the petty misfortunes
of one Jackson Skowron,
Pulitzer Prize aspirant and best-selling author.
You need some gelt, huh?
Yeah. Could you just put a rush on it, okay, Jack?
Hey, you finish Free Fall, huh?
Well, no, no. I've been so busy with the interviewees on the new book.
Hey, did you get to the part where Rollo sees the sea nymph
swimming in the sewers of New York?
No, actually, I'm only on page
10... Page 15.
Look, it's really hard to get in...
I know, I know, you're busy.
It's just that you'd think when two guys lay carpet together for two years
and then one of those guys goes out and writes a bestseller
that the other guy would have read it the 20 years it's been out.
Jack, let's not get back into that, all right?
I told you, the book was stolen from me on the beach.
Okay.
Hey, listen, can you drop me at the Marina?
I want to hit on this Meyer guy myself.
Okay, okay. But you've got to catch a cab back, all right?
Great. I'm just gonna change.
I don't want to get hooked up with the Hollywood crowd.
I don't mind sipping a cocktail now and then but...
I don't know, Jimbo, the writer's life should be contemplative.
Too many pretty distractions translates into no words on the paper.
You know what I mean? Yeah, how is the book going, Jack?
It's good.
It's real good. It's a dynamite subject.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Tracing the John C. Fremont High School class of '62.
The lives and loves, the tragedy and the heartbreak
of 200 fry cooks and hotel elevator operators.
Make light of it. I don't care.
Obviously you're hooked up real tight
with the intelligentsia readership trends.
Now that's not what I meant.
I'm not talking about any emotional crud.
I'm not talking about an upper middle-class crystal palace high school.
I'm talking about John C. Fremont High,
right in the middle of the most depressed area of LA.
I'm talking about textile worker's kids.
I'm talking about boys and girls of grease monkeys.
Slow down, Jack. It was just an opinion.
Slow down. Yeah, slow down.
I am talking about a graduating class of 212 kids,
not counting the Peruvian transfer student, Juan what's-his-name.
I'm talking about a class, 70% male,
that was literally wiped out in the Vietnamese conflict.
86.3% D-E-A-D, dead.
That's what I'm talking about.
Well, it sounds like a hell of a book.
The lives and love of fry cooks, huh?
Hey, you remember the job we did,
oh, in the hotel lobby on Westbridge Boulevard?
I'm talking about a bestseller, man.
Yeah, you remember the hotel clerk... What was his name...
He tried to hire us to destroy the carpet for the insurance, remember?
Gutierez. No, no, no, no. I think it was...
I think it was English. It was...
The Peruvian transfer student's name, Juan Gutierez.
I'm talking bestseller, man.
I mean this thing is getting wings.
It's getting ready to take off, Jimbo.
Right, right.
Hey, Jimbo, can't you hang around for a while?
Come on, Jack, I'm no chauffeur.
Look, this Captain Meyer is waiting for me. Was a teacher at Fremont.
What I got to get from him will only take a few minutes.
Then you can drop me off back at your place. I'll catch a cab, huh?
What do you say? Better yet, I spring for dinner.
All right, Jack. How long? Really.
Ten minutes. And I buy dinner, okay?
Okay, ten minutes.
(SEAGULLS CAWING)
(MEN SHOUTING)
All right. Get off of this boat!
I told you before I ain't telling you about nothing...
JACK: Once I get some answers!
I told you to get off... ROCKFORD: All right, all right!
Hey, hold it. All right, cut it out.
Get off this boat. Off.
You show your face here again, I'll kill you!
What's going on here? You a friend of his?
Why? I want him out of here and now.
Can't take the heat, huh?
Well, it's going to get a lot hotter, buddy, let me tell you.
I think that's our cue to leave. All right? Huh?
Here. Here.
(LAUGHING)
Jimbo, I'm really sorry.
I could of sworn I had my credit card.
It's all right. Now, forget about the dinner. It's my pleasure.
Come on, I'll take you to your room.
I got to go to the lobby.
I got to get my copy of The New York Times.
I hate LA journalism.
(RAZZING)
Give me the drama critic from the Big Apple every time.
Yeah, well, unless I'm mistaken, The Times reviewer
murdered you on his review of Free Fall, right? Yeah.
But I'm big enough to forget a bad notice, Jim.
That's just the way I am.
Yeah, well, why don't we just go, okay?
I can make it. Go back to your car.
(SIGHS)
Look, Jack, Jack, this whole thing just isn't working out, huh?
I mean, we're not the same two people we were 20 years ago.
That's right.
You haven't written a bestseller and I have.
Puts a little space between us, doesn't it, Jimbo?
Yeah, quite a lot. Quite a lot.
So, why don't we just call the whole thing off, huh?
I'll look for your new book in my nearest bookstore window, okay?
Hey, you...
You dumping me, Jim?
Yeah. No. Maybe.
Look...
Jack, why don't you call me in the morning?
We'll talk about it, okay? Huh?
I'm with you, buddyroo.
(SINGING) Hey, hey, hey
Going to Jackson
Gonna get me a thrill
Gonna get me.
(JACK SHOUTING)
Jim!
WOMAN ON PA: Dr. Kurt, please report to the...
Excuse me. I'm Dr. Kozoll. Are you a relative of Mr. Skowron's?
A friend. Jim Rockford.
I know I don't sound too friendly,
but let's just say there are a couple of points in our relationship
that Jack and I are going to have to hammer out.
Look, Mr. Rockford, in the absence of relatives,
I think it's very important that someone close to Mr. Skowron
realize just how serious his drinking problem is.
At this juncture, his liver is highly cirrhotic.
And, if that doesn't fail him altogether,
he'll be looking at some brain damage,
possible intermittent memory loss.
I had no idea it was that bad.
It's essential that he stops drinking.
And to that end, I want to keep him here as long as possible.
He's fighting me because he has this book ahead of him.
I know. I'm working with him on the research.
Then it's a problem.
Because psychologically at this point in his life,
Mr. Skowron needs that book very badly.
Well, I'll do whatever I can.
But he does make it a little tough.
And one thing you have to remember, Mr. Rockford,
you're not going to save his bacon.
You can't. He has to.
Apparently he's considered a very talented and respected writer.
Yeah, he wrote a bestseller back in the '50s.
A thing called Free Fall to Ecstasy.
That Jack Skowron? Yeah.
Well, I read that book. I read it in college.
I just didn't put the names together.
Then you're familiar with his talent as a writer.
Oh, yes. Well, actually, I never finished the book.
I never got past chapter four where the hero, Rally...
Roland, wrestles with his mother in flashback.
It's Rollo. Yes, Rollo.
Of course, I was very busy with exams at the time.
WOMAN ON PA: Security, please report to nursing station straight away.
Oh, Jimbo.
I'm glad you came.
After running out on you last night,
I thought you'd hang up on that nurse when I asked her to call you.
Oh, come on, Jack, you give yourself too little credit.
Your impersonation of a dish of Jell-O had me in stitches.
Yeah, isn't that something?
From Jack Skowron, who faced off against the Hells Angels
when they tried to crash the big be-in on Long Island.
It's barrel-bottom time in Skowron Land, Jimbo.
Oh, well, pull yourself together and eat your farina.
I need some answers, Jack.
Who were the two guys that jumped you?
All those years walking on the night-time streets of Nuevo York,
I've never got mugged, Jim. Never. Never.
I come out here to the Land of The Plastic Smile
and look what happens.
I don't want to get into that again, Jack.
And those guys weren't muggers,
unless the standard issue for muggers these days is alligator shoes.
Come on, what do you want from me, man? I didn't interview them.
You get well soon, Jack.
Jim. Jim!
All right. It's only a guess.
Okay, go.
Some of these Fremont alumni I intend to write about,
they went off to Nam
and came back well, nicely ensconced in the Laotian drug traffic.
It's possible that... You hit on some very highly sensitive nerves?
Now, why didn't you tell me about that from the beginning?
Come on, Jim, don't be so hard on me.
It's only a guess, I told you.
Oh, no, no. I'll give you a guess.
Now my guess is that that's what this book is really about,
the Laos connection. Smack.
Now that's what I call a really commercial book.
This what-ever-happened-to thing is pure tuna fish.
That's right.
I was afraid it'd get dangerous.
I didn't want you approaching those people and getting in trouble with drug dealers.
I didn't want you to quit on me, Jimbo.
This book is gonna shake the earth.
It lays out beautiful.
If only I could tell you some of the ideas I have about it.
I'm sorry.
I really am.
I got to hit the bathroom.
My kidneys really took a salvo last night.
It's not your kidneys, Jack. It's your liver.
You're pickling it in booze.
Oh, you been talking to Dr. Kozoll, huh?
Don't you think he overplays it a little?
A guy like that, if he doesn't walk around with a long face,
he doesn't get paid, huh?
Jack, Jack, I'm willing to stay on this thing for a few days.
But you're going to have to pay me two days in advance
and you've got to promise me to lay off the sauce.
Yuck, yuck. I'm serious, Jack. Your health is shot.
I just don't like working with somebody I got to keep wiping their chin.
Listen, I don't have a bad alcoholic problem.
I like to get lit, okay?
I mean, some of your big, big-time writers, brilliant guys, liked their liquor.
Balzac, Brendan Behan, Hemingway, he's the best of the lot.
He ended up blowing his brains out, Jack.
Okay, okay. Here.
Find the locations on these people.
I'll handle the delicate stuff.
I'll interview when I get out of this house of death.
Fremont High, Class of '62. Stan Collier, Nancy Fornechefsky,
Jeanie Winslow, Freddy Stassi, Stan Collier?
Yeah. Him I already have a line on.
I'm gonna see him the beginning of next week.
He's a local real estate agent.
That Stan Collier? He's no agent.
He bought into one of the biggest agencies in town last year.
He into smack?
I don't think so.
Some of his best friends in Khe Sanh were heavy users.
At least that's what my secretary in New York tells me.
She's the one that gave me the idea for the book.
Went to Fremont High. She's a great kid.
All right, I'll call you when I turn up something.
Jimmy,
about our agreement.
The drinking.
It's very little fun for me to eat without wine.
I guess it's all those years I lived in Montmarte.
I'm in good shape,
despite what doctor...
What's his name?
Oh, you mean the doctor who told me you might have intermittent memory loss?
His name is Dr. Kozoll, Jack.
You shouldn't be doing that.
Why? What's the harm in keeping up with Bob's affairs?
Besides, there's nothing here of much importance anyway.
I'd offer you two a drink, but then you'd stay for the party.
What do you want? This Skowron.
I remember him. He was on the police force.
He was there that night.
That was Bill Skowron. This is his son.
Well, we'd like to know what you've done about it
being as there is quite a bit at stake here.
You have an amazing affinity for the mundane, Stan.
I barely find it tolerable.
Can't you two be civil after all these years?
We're in trouble here.
Captain Meyer called me.
Jack Skowron will be taken care of.
Nothing too drastic, I hope.
Too drastic? From this glass of milk?
And I'm getting pretty tired of you treating us like highly-paid trash, Bobby.
Well, that's exactly what you are, aren't you?
I'd like to speak to Jack Skowron. Room 702.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR) What? Well, did he say...
It's open.
Did he say where he was headed?
To Malibu?
Well, of course. Thank you very much.
(LAUGHS)
I know what you're thinking but liquor has not passed these lips.
You want to smell my breath?
Absolutely not. You just remember our deal.
Listen, I thought I'd move into the motel up the road
so we could be in close contact on the book.
But first I thought I'd drop in to see
if you'd like to get bloodied at chess after 20 years.
I think I'd just love to cream you again, Jack.
Only I've got to go pick up my dad.
He's down at the Masonic lodge. Hey, great.
Maybe the three of us could have dinner together afterwards, huh? On me?
I have my credit card.
Hey Jack, you don't want to check into the motel.
You'd just hate it down there.
Why don't you flop with me for a couple of days?
Oh, no. It's such an imposition.
Well, maybe, a day or two. If you insist.
Jimbo,
you were in the carpet business.
This stuff you've got here is three notches above a drop cloth.
Well, forget that. Listen, I found out who Jeanie Winslow is.
She's Jeanie Rosenthal.
Yeah? Who's that?
Come on, where have you been?
Jeanie Rosenthal is Creative International Agency's top actor's agent and packager.
Oh. She handles most of the big ones.
See, I don't... I really don't see many English language movies.
French, well, they have so much more humanity.
Yeah, yeah. Good for them.
Look, I checked this out at Fremont High School.
Now as soon as I saw her graduation picture, I thought I recognized her
so I checked it out and sure enough.
Here, read this. Jeanne Ann Winslow. Nickname, Jeanie.
Likes pizza, beer, Dion and The Belmonts,
splitting for Don's after school, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis.
Dislikes parents, vegetables, gym class.
Occupational goal, beautician.
Let me see that. Maybe we can find Collier here.
Stan Collier. Nickname, Stomper.
Likes Chevys, Pontiacs, Debbie,
Luckies, digging the scene at Don's Drive In.
Occupational goal, work in a body shop.
And he ends up with a real estate empire. That's not too bad.
I thought you said Fremont was a working-class high? So?
So? So, out of it comes two of LA's big movers.
I mean, not that that's such a big deal
except these two are a little bit low in the aptitude department.
I mean, Stomper there is selling real estate to oil men from Iran
and Jeanie is partying with Mick and Bianca.
The American system, Jimbo.
It's what Kerouac and Ginsberg and I were groused about.
I tell you something.
Anybody can make it in this country.
That's one good thing you can say about it.
Yeah, yeah. I guess so.
Hey, listen, I got to go pick up my dad. You want to come along?
No, no, no.
I think I'll stay, put in a call to Jeanie Rosenthal at the agency.
I know what you're thinking.
I'm not going to drink.
Buddyroo.
(SINGING DRUNKENLY)
Hey, hey, hey Going to Jackson
You miserable cur.
Hey, hey, hey, hey Going to Jackson
How about Ventura?
How you guys been? I gotta...
Mr. Skowron, just settle down.
Just settle down, otherwise, my friend's going to put a sunroof in your skull.
Hey, Rob, the paper.
A private investigator lives here? You hired a snoop?
Hey, come on, he doesn't know anything. He's just a friend of mine.
That's the truth. He's a friend.
Well, we'll just wait around and ask him, okay.
ROCKY: If only that truck of mine wasn't busted down.
ROCKFORD: Yeah, it's a shame, Dad. I'm really sorry.
But I think Jack needs the company, you know.
Well, I think you're glad we're going to miss the lodge fund-raising at Oxnard,
and I think you're glad we're going to miss the bagpipe band, too.
Glad to miss the bagpipe band?
After you know how much I like music that drones?
How can you say that?
Go on in. I'll get the groceries.
Time for information please, Rockford.
(GROANS)
Hey, somebody call the cops!
MAN: All right, let's get out of here.
Sonny! Are you all right? Yeah.
Hey, hey. They got Jack.
You all right, Dad? That's quite a right hand I saw you throw by air mail in there.
(GROANS) You got a little ice in there for it?
Or maybe we ought to call the doc, huh?
Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry.
Man, that thing hurts, don't you know.
Get some ice, Father.
What you're trying to print are lies, Mr. Skowron.
Dangerous lies.
All our employer asks in all sincerity
is that you consider them long and hard
before you commit them to print.
And I'm supposed to consider all this while I'm dropping to the concrete?
Is that it? You wrote a whole book about that once, didn't you?
My angle on this is the truth and you know it.
You're not going to get me to muzzle myself.
It's a writer's duty to print the truth.
God in heaven, it's the only tool a writer has
that isn't a gimmick out of a bag of tricks.
Yawn.
You cynical creep.
Okay, sonny boy, you want to push me over? Go ahead.
You want to put me on a non-stop down to the curb?
Come on, is that what you want to do?
'Cause I'm gonna write this book.
They couldn't stop Zola.
The Pope and the Borgias together could not stop Dante.
And for sure, you're not going to stop me.
Oh, yes, we are.
Your friend, Mr. Skowron, is an alcoholic, you say?
Boy, here we go. The old torpedo, right?
Jack is an alky so he's up to some crazy nonsense.
You can't do anything without more verification, right?
Dennis, he was kidnapped.
Now, I don't want you to put him at the bottom of the missing persons list
and hope for the best. I'm not.
Well then, get on it.
We have certain procedures around here. It's my job to go by them.
I tell you, Dennis, it's getting where every time...
Sposato, ride the Selectric and take a statement.
We have a possible kidnapping here.
Billings, I want you with me, I'm gonna need you,
but get me a status report on Finkel and LeMasters.
See if they're ready to roll.
Roger.
Subject, Skowron, Jack. Age 47,
brown on brown, Caucasian.
Last seen in the vicinity of Cove Road, Malibu wearing...
A blue shirt and jeans.
Taken by force by two white males,
mid-thirties, average height, last seen driving a...
Blue LTD.
I'll punch that into the desk so the black and whites will have it right away.
Affirmative. And when you get done with that,
meet me at the car, I want you with me.
Lankowsky, notify the FBI.
Dennis, I don't know what to say.
I was kind of half expecting...
Well, it's a possible kidnapping. That's what I'm here for.
You give me something I could move on, I move. That's all I've ever said.
Hey Sarge, a call just came in from Newbury Savings and Loans.
Three men with automatic weapons have sealed up the place,
looks like they're holding hostages.
Well, scramble all our robbery units.
Tell Finkel and LeMasters to meet me at the bank.
Notify the swat team.
See who the lieutenant wants on the negotiating team.
Lankowsky, you're with me. Come on. I'll see the Lieutenant right now.
Yeah, that looks good.
(PHONE RINGING)
Excuse me. Mrs. Rosenthal, please.
ROSENTHAL: Well, you were absolutely wrong for the part.
They left you out there to twist in the wind.
Look, I won't shmekel you. You're awful.
Now, if I was handling you, I wouldn't have let you anywhere near that disaster.
Well, when you do want a career, call me. Bye.
Mrs. Rosenthal? Hi. How are you?
I hope that ditzel gets his head on straight.
I could really do something with him.
The Pacinos, the Hoffmans, the ethnic types are down the toilette.
What I need is white bread.
There. Like that.
That's the type of face I'm talking about.
You don't want me.
I'm white bread, but I'm heavy on the mayo.
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
I'm sorry. I get over-animated.
Richie, get me a pack of cigarettes, will you?
Mrs. Rosenthal,
I was wondering if I could have a word with you?
Go. It's about Jack Skowron.
Skowron? Skowron, Skowron...
That name sounds vaguely familiar.
Free Fall to Ecstasy?
Oh, good gosh, yes.
About beatniks, right? Uh-huh.
I couldn't get past chapter four.
Yeah. Me, too.
Full of daddy-ohs, hepcats.
Poor Fox got stuck with the film rights
to that gobbler to the tune of 50 thou.
And use the term "bestseller" advisedly, will you?
It was one, wasn't it?
For, if I remember the figures, only one and one-half weeks.
It rode the crest of the KerouaclBurroughs wave.
Also, Wuifson-Goldberg spent a bundle on a promo blitz.
Actually, Free Fall to whatever,
was a souffle.
Yeah, well, my name is Jim Rockford.
I'm a private investigator. I'm working with Jack.
Oh?
Yeah. He's in town from New York.
And he mentioned something about wanting to talk to you
about a book he was writing.
I just wondered if he'd gotten in touch.
No, no.
I haven't heard word one from him.
Having trouble locating him, are you?
Well, just a little.
Well, you should realize, Mr. Rockford,
that if actors are children,
writers are badly behaved children.
Probably turn up shortly.
Well, I hope so. Jack never does anything shortly.
Free Fall to Ecstasy was 1,040 pages long.
(CHUCKLING)
Spinach on my teeth? No, no. I'm sorry, Mrs. Rosenthal,
it's just that
for someone who
started out to be a beautician, you have really come a long way.
ROSENTHAL: And then he said, "For someone who started out to be a beautician,
"you sure have come a long way."
Yeah, how would he know that?
I don't know.
Freddy, I'm so glad you're here.
This has to be pretty important to get me out of bed.
Where's Bob? The maid said 15 minutes.
Running a restaurant isn't a nine-to-five job.
I've got Stassi's II opening in Brentwood.
I've got a chef who's a committable psychopath.
I thought this Skowron thing was cleared up.
A private detective came up to Jeanie,
wanted to know where Skowron was.
Why would he ask her?
Because Skowron let him in on it.
That much should be plain even to you.
You were always one of my favorite people, Stan. Always.
You keep it up, Freddy.
They'll be feeding you some of your famous cannelloni through a hole in your throat.
We better do something. This is starting to snowball.
All right, where's Bob?
I say forget Bob.
This is one time the famous Atcheson money
couldn't buy him out of a jam.
What do we do?
I've got some contacts of my own.
I think I know a way we can muzzle this Rockford.
What are you talking about? Killing him?
If that's what it takes.
Look, Bob can't even be on time for this meeting.
I say we quit following his lead,
get out of his house and do it our way.
If you do that, you'll be in the same class as Bob.
And what class do you think we're in now?
Look, as they say, you only go around once in life.
And that night on the yacht
each of us got the break of our lives.
When we decided to run with it,
our fates were sealed forever.
If we have to do something every once in a while to protect ourselves,
we damn well better do it.
Hey, Dad, did Jack call?
No. I ain't heard a word from no one.
You find out anything?
No. That agent, she hasn't heard from him either.
Maybe we can get something out of here.
What is that?
Oh, his notes.
The book in its roughest form.
He's been working on it day and night.
What is that? One of those illustrated books?
He's shot, Dad. Writer's block.
You call it whatever you want,
he's lost his driving wheel. That's sad.
Hey, look here. Look, he's got himself one of them cut-rate fares.
I could go to New York for that price.
"Local girl dies.
"Services will be held for Miss Nancy Fornechefsky, 18,
"who died last night from a burst appendix.
"Friends say Miss Fornechefsky complained of stomach pains
"after having dinner at a neighborhood drive-in.
"The pains subsided, only to return much stronger in the evening
"while at a party.
"Miss Fornechefsky died en route to the hospital."
What's that got to do with anything?
Look at the date.
August 28, 1961.
I don't get it. Well, neither do I.
I can't figure out what's...
Neighborhood drive-in.
BRAKEMAN: Law suit? What do you mean law suit?
Miss Fornechefsky had dinner here the night of her death, right?
Yeah. I remember this Fornechefsky kid dying.
We read about it in the papers.
She had a burst appendix.
Aggravated, possibly, by food poisoning.
A gastro-intestinal distress.
Who says?
Hey, nothing like that ever came out at the time.
We plan to exhume the remains.
The Littler-Waxman test has been very effective
in retroactively proving cases of E. Coli infection
30, 40 years after interment.
This stinks. And I resent the implication.
How come you're on this after all this time?
Well, not that it's relevant to your purposes,
but I ran into Nancy's mother at a party.
And after she told me the circumstances of her daughter's death,
I felt she may very well have a case.
Look, why do we have to take the gaff here?
You know she might have had something to eat out on that yacht.
Yacht? Nancy went off for a toot
on Bobby Atcheson's yacht that night. Big party.
He was drunk as a lord when he rolled in here in his big DeSoto.
The Atcheson family who own the LA Tribune?
A spoiled creep.
Fornechefsky and that bunch of pachucos she used to hang out with
were the only ones stupid enough to go down to the harbor with him.
He kept yelling something about a big open house.
Let me ask you...
Nancy's friends, did they include
Jeanie Winslow, Stan Collier, Freddy Stassi?
I'm supposed to remember these punks after 16 years?
Collier?
Yeah, yeah, Collier was in it.
He used to jam up our toilets on purpose.
I think they elected him the class wit over at Fremont.
And Jeanie Winslow too.
That little slut. You're right.
(CAR HORN HONKING)
I'm glad you could make it on such short notice.
Who's dying?
It's a private eye. Name of Rockford.
Hey, here's his address.
License plate number, make of car he drives.
Maybe you could make it like a suicide?
Don't tell me my business, okay?
Hey, Dad, did you move any of Jack's stuff after I left?
Nope.
It's all gone. The suitcase, the typewriter, the whole shot.
Here, let me help you with that.
Oh, I can manage. I'm used to doing it for myself.
Whoever grabbed Jack came back here,
picked up all his stuff, just to cover their traces.
Make sure there's no indication he was ever in LA.
His sweatshirt's gone too.
So?
Who'd want that ratty old sweatshirt?
Jack's the only one who'd want it.
It's his lucky sweatshirt. He writes in it.
Maybe Jack himself came back here and picked that stuff up.
Well, you and me seen them fellas drive off with him ourselves.
I even busted my thumb trying to stop them.
Dad, you know the airline ticket Jack had.
What airline was it?
Oh, I don't know.
It was that one with the Liberty Bell service in the coach.
You don't figure he flew out of here on his own, do you?
Do me a favor, will you, Dad?
Would you stick by the phone?
Oh, hey, here, I'm sorry, Dad.
I've been yakking about Jack,
I didn't realize the problem you were having.
Oh, hey, hand hurt?
Oh, I've had things hurt worse than that.
Now you go on and do what you got to do.
I'll figure out some way to cook my own dinner with one hand.
JACK: I saw no sense in mincing words with the man,
so I told him right out. I said, "Norman,
"the problem with your recent work
"is that you've forgotten the three essential elements of modern fiction.
"Style, style polished, and style polished again.
"Your latest book has no teeth."
Then you're going to be just the man to read it.
Oh, Jimbo, I was just about to call you.
What did it take to stifle you on Nancy Fornechefsky's murder?
Who told you about that?
Then I'm right. She was murdered.
There was a shooting, but to say murder...
You lied to me, you risked my neck.
You didn't have to do that. Oh, yeah?
I suppose if I'd told you I was gonna write an expose on Bob Atcheson
and how he murdered a girl when he was 18 years old,
you would have climbed onto your white stallion
and charged right into the fray?
You wouldn't have sweated all the incredible pressure
a man like that can bring to bear.
You wouldn't have worried about losing your license or your life.
No, not you.
I don't know, Jack. I don't know.
But rather than find out, it was just safer to assume I was like you, right?
I got a plane to catch.
Jack, what did Atcheson promise you?
Actually what happened is, I came to realize
it would serve no purpose to destroy Atcheson at this point. What for?
Why put an end to a newspaper that has always been so fresh,
so vital and so hard-hitting as the LA Tribune?
It's an institution.
And a valued one, that people everywhere depend on...
Fade in string section, up and over.
Oh, get off my back.
You haven't lived my life, so don't criticize my choices.
Jack. Jack.
Collier, Rosenthal and Stassi were all on that yacht
the night that Nancy got it.
Now, old Mr. Atcheson bought each of them a whole new life.
What'd Bobby buy you?
Atcheson swears he didn't kill the girl deliberately
and I believe him.
Listen, he was forcing himself on the kid.
She didn't come across.
And she started to laugh at him because he was so inept.
He says he only had the gun to scare her.
Jimmy, I got a new novel bubbling, burning inside.
There is no publisher in New York that will even let me read
the magazines in his waiting room.
I'm not working on an advance.
I lied.
The whole thing is coming out of my pocket.
Who put you on to the murder?
Where did you get the idea?
My dad was an LA cop, don't you remember?
He's the one that handled the call on Fornechefsky's death.
They paid off everybody.
The assistant coroner, the kids at Fremont High,
they even paid off the captain of the Atcheson family yacht.
Meyer, right?
They gave him the whole yacht.
Can you believe it?
They paid off everybody.
Except my dad.
And he died bitter
because everywhere he went to tell the story,
he found a deaf ear.
Yeah, not his son. No. Not his son.
He found a way to turn a buck on it.
(WOMAN ANNOUNCING ON PA)
I been trying for 15 years to land a deal
for the sequel to Free Fall to Ecstasy.
A whole new book.
Rollo, now middle-aged,
discusses with his analyst everything that happened in book one.
My agent left me, said it wouldn't work.
The lady I was living with finally said it was all junk.
But Atcheson,
he's gonna help me.
He's gonna give me a chance.
Jimmy!
Why fight it?
At this point, what else could I do?
You know something, Jack?
You really are a bag of guts.
You're always yammering about the writer's duty to truth,
the sacred trust in the written word
and words as a weapon on the side of right. Is that it?
Do I have it right the way you always say it?
Yeah, that's close enough.
I had a hunch, Jack,
that all that stuff really meant something to you.
I really did.
Come on down to the DA.
I think the boat's already sailed on that, Jimmy.
WOMAN ON PA: This is the final call for Continental Airlines,
Flight 477 now boarding for Chicago.
Passengers please board at Gate 17:
I thought the rodeo left town in June.
I heard. That way. Keep moving.
Any moves I don't like, you go down wearing red.
Over there. In.
Hey, look pal, there must be some...
Don't. Please don't.
Just into the toilet, there, partner,
and we'll do this real quiet and real quick.
You've got to be kidding.
Hey, Jimbo.
(YELLS)
All right. All right.
You always seem to have all the fun.
You want a piece of this one, Jack?
No. I think I'll just save it for the DA.
WOMAN ON TV: What proof do you have, Mr. Skowron?
Well, the police told me they have traced the ambulance attendants
who drove Miss Fornechefsky to the hospital.
One of the attendant's has signed a confession
that there was a fresh wound caused by a gunshot.
How does Captain Curtis Meyer's yacht fit into this?
Well, the yacht is the exact boat where the murder took place.
Shortly thereafter, Captain Meyer was given the boat
as a gift by Atcheson, Senior.
Don't you fellas disturb yourselves.
I'll get these burgers to the barbecue myself.
What does it feel like, toppling a dynastic family as big as the Atchesons?
Well, not as good as I thought.
Not as bad as I feared.
(CHUCKLING)
Thank you.
Implicated in the cover-up as accessories to the fact
are talent agent Jeanie Rosenthal,
real estate entrepreneur Stan Collier,
and restauranteur Fred Stassi.
KGG Y attempted to interview these three
but they all declined comment.
We'll have a more comprehensive report
on the 16-year-old murder on the 6:00 news.
All that's left is to put it down on paper.
It's already started.
How's it going? It cooks, Jimmy.
It really cooks.
It's so hot, I can hardly handle it.
Here, let me help you. ROCKY: Oh, thank you.
It seems to be coming along fine.