to lay more freeway...
a few miles south of Las Vegas.
The State of Nevada's
Department of Highway's digging...
would be a help
to thousands of motorists,
but to one other person, it
would turn out to be a nightmare.
May , : p.m.
Airline stewardess Elena Munoz
missed the detour sign...
and blew a steel-belted radial
on a jagged rock.
She cursed
the power of advertising.
She had no idea how
cursed her evening really was.
When Miss Munoz returned with
sheriff's deputies, they found nothing.
Just excavated earth.
Elena Munoz's name was
placed on the crank list.
In Chicago, it was the hottest,
muggiest spring anyone could remember.
An old reporter buddy of mine from Las Vegas
had stopped in to collect an old debt from me.
I paid off, and
Jim "The Swede" Brytoski,
now known as James Bright
and moving up in the world,
told me something that made
me forget the hot weather.
Three deaths so far, and that's the
way the police out there are handling it.
Yeah, all the careful words that aren't really
words and the blank stares, yeah, I know.
The lid is on the pot, but you
can sure smell something cooking.
All in Vegas?
No, no, no. West.
Erie, Goodsprings.
Has anyone seen
the assignment roster?
On the way to Los Angeles.
Oh, yeah.
The word around the coroner's
office is that all of these bodies...
were missing an
inordinate amount of blood.
If I didn't have that job as an anchorman
in Cincinnati, I would follow this right...
What do you mean, "an
inordinate amount of blood"?
Pardon me. I just heard you
mention you're an anchorman?
I don't want to be nosy, but
that pays very well, doesn't it?
Yeah, well, you are being
nosy, Uptight. Now, fade, will ya?
What about the blood, the
murders? Are your sources reliable?
Very. They tell me...
I thought you told me on the phone that
Vincenzo was gonna take a long lunch hour.
I did. He was.
Now, what about the story?
Is there a back way out of here?
Yeah, down the fire
stairs, but... James!
See you later, Carl,
and take my advice.
Get yourself a haircut, a new suit
of clothes and move up to TV news.
It's the only way to fly.
Ciao, Carl.
But, James!
Where'd he go? I wanted to
talk to him more about television.
- Was that Swede Brytoski I just saw heading out of here?
- Who?
- Swede Brytoski.
- Ah, it was one of my sources. A very secretive guy.
Oh, sure looked like Swede. He
still owes me bucks from Vegas.
- Really?
- Uh, Mr. Vincenzo.
This just came in over
the wire. New York wants...
somebody from this office
to go to Los Angeles.
- Why? What for?
- To do a piece on Amerta Mera.
- The -year-old guru.
- Guru?
My budget doesn't allow for
junkets all over the country on a whim.
A whim? This is something
big. He is getting married.
Who do they think I am,
the Job Corps?
I'm understaffed enough
as it is.
It's a major financial undertaking
to replace a lightbulb around here.
You think we're having
trouble with this, Mr. Vincenzo.
All four of the reporters in the Los
Angeles office were in an accident.
Their station wagon overturned,
and they're in the hospital.
- I could go.
- I'm not that busy.
- Carl.
- Oh, no, not me, Tony.
No, no, no. I'm in it up
to my eyeballs right here.
Carl, do you mind if I make the decisions
on the utilization of manpower around here?
Whatever you say, Tony.
I have read a few articles
on transcendental meditation,
and I feel I could handle
the story pretty well.
Uh, what books have you
read, Ron? The, uh, Murti book?
The Harris and Lopato work?
The, uh, A Sense of Self
by Sidney Uvandi?
Just the Murti book and some
articles. I don't know the others.
Uh-huh. Well, the Murti
book is fine, Tony. It's just fine.
It'll give him enough information
and knowledge to write the story.
Superficial, but enough.
- Carl, I want you to go.
- Mr. Vincenzo, don't you see what he...
- No. Now, wait a minute, Tony.
- There is no time for discussion.
According to this, the interview's
already been set up with Amerta Mera.
I want you on that plane today.
Not me. I'm not going out,
and that's that.
You are going out to Los Angeles. You're
going to give the story your best efforts,
and you're going to keep me
posted while you're out there.
- Tony!
- That is it, Carl!
I'm sorry, Ron.
Sorry, Ron.
May , : p.m.
Los Angeles's
fabled Sunset Strip.
While I was dozing
on a cross-country flight,
Catherine Rawlins, ,
was stopped on the street...
by someone she hadn't seen
in three years.
A lot had changed
in three years.
A whole lot.
The same night, : a.m.
Linda Courtner returned home
early with a splitting headache...
to the apartment she shared.
The pain of Linda's
headache was nothing...
compared to the agony she
experienced before she d*ed.
Can I get a doorman here?
Uh...
I'll pick my car up later.
There's three radio stations
here and the rest is TV, sir.
Yeah, sure. Whatever.
- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.
Yeah, operator. I'd like
to call my mother, please.
Person-to-person.
Mr. Antonio Vincenzo.
Yeah, area code --.
It is believed that Mitchell fell asleep
in the auto and then succumbed...
to the high desert temperatures, which
sometimes reach degrees at midday.
In Barstow, deputies stated, Mitchell's
body was in a severely dehydrated...
- Operator, cancel that call.
- vital fluids all but gone.
Turning to business news, the
stock market opened higher today.
Listen, tell me, uh...
Tell me, Mr... Mr. Sample,
what time does the coroner
think that Mr. Mitchell d*ed?
Oh, I'd say
about :, : a.m.
I think he lost consciousness
way before then.
Beautiful country you got up here.
Just gorgeous. Gorgeous country.
Fresh, clean air,
bright sunshine.
- Yes, it's very beautiful.
- It is indeed.
Tell me, what time does the
sun come up around here?
- In the morning, early.
- Oh, I know that!
What time,
about :,
Well, it depends on the season.
Why would you want to know that?
Because I think that's about the
time that Mr. Mitchell was m*rder*d.
You been chewing mescal? Who said he
was m*rder*d? I say he d*ed of exposure.
You know, Mitchell done
stole that car in Vegas.
Then he decided to repaint it, and
that's why he taped the windows.
Where did he repaint
it, huh? On the inside?
I mean, that's where
the windows are taped.
On the inside.
You're one of them fellows who
likes to hear himself talk, ain't you?
Tell me, did Mr. Mitchell have a couple of
puncture marks on his throat, like fang marks?
The last nosy fellow
who come through Barstow,
somebody done come out
and punctured all his tires.
- Is that a fact?
- Yes, he did.
Thank you very much
for your advice, Mr. Sample.
It's been a pleasure
meeting you and your dog.
My trip had been
very illuminating,
but unless I had something
to show on Amerta Mera...
and transcendental meditation,
Vincenzo would do some serious
meditating on having me fired.
Of course, if this is
too small for you,
you might look
at the Basil Rathbone...
Excuse me.
You're late. We were expecting
the termite inspection this morning.
Well, late I am, but
termite inspector I'm not.
Although I have been known
to bug a few people.
I'll be right with you.
- It doesn't have a basement.
- Basement?
- He's an oenophile.
- It's up above the smog here.
- He's a wine freak.
- I have to have the right place for my Romanee Contis.
- Yes, dear.
- Well, why don't you look at the Rathbone?
It's right down the road,
and it is charming.
Well, I hope that
he has a basement.
It's a dandy buy at ,.
It has, uh, eight bedrooms,
four and a half baths.
All of the fireplaces are
made out of Etruscan marble,
and the floors are quarry tiled.
No, no, no. Wait a minute.
I'm not looking for a house.
No, you don't have
that buyer look.
No, I'm looking for Amerta Mera.
- I think I missed him.
- Indeed.
Oh, you must be Mr. Chandra. My name
is, uh, Kolchak. We had an appointment.
Yes, we did, and I told them that if you
wish to speak with my most perfect master,
you should be here
by noon of today.
I was delayed. Unavoidably delayed.
But I still must meet with Amerta Mera.
Just as your delay was unavoidable,
so shall be your disappointment.
He has just gone to meet
the faithful in Dallas.
- When can I meet him again?
- In time, no doubt.
- In time for my deadline?
- Thank you very much for everything, Faye.
Good-bye, Chandra.
Give my love to everyone.
Well, that's that.
They're not too concerned with
earthly pressures, the daily grind.
They should meet my boss. He'd
turn Buddha into a chain-smoker.
Apparently, Mr. Chandra
doesn't find you too earthly.
Well, I'm friends with
the whole inner circle.
You see, I sold
Amerta Mera this house,
and now I'm selling it
over again.
Yeah. Uh...
My name is Carl Kolchak.
I'm with the I.N.S.
When are you bureaucrats...
gonna stop hounding
that young man?
He only came to this country
to bring love and peace.
So what if his followers
give him money freely?
Is that any reason
to keep badgering him?
It's either you or it's
the Immigration people or...
Oh, no! Wait a minute.
No. No.
I said I.N.S., not I.R.S.
Oh.
I.N.S. is a news service.
Independent News Service.
I never heard of it.
But isn't that something? You know, I
took journalism at North Carolina State.
Then I was a reporter for a while
with the Greensboro Republican.
Then I had a bad marriage,
and it all ended.
Here I am.
My name is Faye Kruger.
Hello, Faye Kruger.
I was sent out here to get a
story on transcendental meditation,
but, uh, I'm not too much
interested in the subject anyway.
Well, you should be.
It's fascinating.
I have had lots of talks with Amerta
Mera about it while he was living here.
- You did?
- Oh, sure. He's fascinating.
Faye, how would you like to...
go back into journalism?
I'll proof what you write,
of course,
and, uh, I'll correct any kind of
mistakes you may make and send it on.
Then you sign my byline to
it, send it on back to Chicago.
- Sign your byline?
- Yeah, sure. Oh, just at first, of course.
I mean, after they see
how really good you are,
why, I'll use every bit of
influence I have on my boss...
to get you a job as a syndicated columnist.
- He must be really high on you.
- He's up in the ionosphere over me.
The bodies were discovered
sometime this morning.
I'm trying to get a comment from Lieutenant Jack
Matteo of the Los Angeles Police Department,
but so far he's declined.
Apparently, they've already
arrested some suspects in the case.
I just had word the police
will hold a briefing...
for the press right here
at the scene any minute.
Start writing right now, honey, 'cause
you're about to become a journalist.
I-It's room .
Start without me.
Acting on tips furnished
by police informants,
we arrested the two suspects
a few hours ago.
- Oh, I'm terribly sorry, ma'am.
- Now, these two...
The door on the left.
Yes, I...
Excuse me.
I'm late. I'm sorry.
- Thank you.
- The two suspects both...
are admitted members
of the Dark Star Coven,
a group of Satan worshippers.
- Captain.
- Lieutenant.
- Lieutenant...
- Matteo.
Lieutenant Matteo, how do you
explain the loss of blood in the victims?
That information has already been
furnished and on the air, hasn't it?
We're on to
other things, Mr...
You mean, by the suction device
found in the possession of the suspects?
- Seems to me a thing like that would take a long time.
- Oh, these people...
Lieutenant, why didn't they
just take the bodies with them...
and drain them in the safety of
their home where you caught them?
That makes sense.
Do you really believe that the suspects
hung around the m*rder scene all that time?
These people don't have much
presence of mind. They're deranged.
- Lieutenant, a question, please.
- Yes.
Do you feel that there's
a connection between...
these murders and the ones
in Erie and Barstow?
Our department
are looking into all leads.
If a connection is found, the news will be
released... I mean, if it serves a purpose.
The m*rder*d man
was large, wasn't he?
He was a former stuntman.
- A former stuntman?
- Yeah.
Then the k*ller must have had immense
strength in order to subdue a man like that.
Constantine Praxanos,
one of our suspects,
is '" and weighs pounds.
- Uh, uh, uh... Is that strong enough
for you, Mr... - Wow. He's a big guy.
Lieutenant, how do you
spell that, please?
- P-R-A-X... Uh... Yeah.
- Lieutenant? Lieutenant?
There must have been quite a
struggle, yet I see no evidence of that.
Now, Dr. Kornbaum...
- Kornbaum? Is that with a "K" or a "C," sir?
- "K."
Our police psychiatrist...
believes that these murders...
are ritual by nature.
Satan worshippers of
the type we've arraigned...
often serve human blood
during sabbats.
Blood! Blood. Exactly, yes.
Uh, what marks were
on the body, Lieutenant?
Were there any marked bruises?
Are they beaten or bruised?
Lieutenant, where was
the suction device attached?
- Yeah. Where was it?
- We're withholding certain specific facts.
- Oh, come on!
- Facts that only an involved party could verify.
Is there any truth to the rumor
that the only marks on the body...
were two marks in the
throat, like a vampire's?
- Vampire?
- First I've heard of that.
You... You with the hat.
Just what paper do you work for?
Manchester Guardian.
- Hi.
- Oh, hi!
Hey. Did, uh, I get
any calls from Vegas?
Well, I don't know. You told
me not to answer the phone.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, that's right.
Hello, operator? Yeah, I'd like to place a
long-distance call to Las Vegas, please.
Area code --.
- Thank you. How's the story coming?
- Oh. Oh, fine. Just fine.
I read snatches of it to
the, uh, room service waiter,
and he really seemed intrigued.
When are you gonna proofread it?
Just as soon as
I'm finished with this.
Yeah. Hello, Frank? How you
coming with that missing persons list?
Oh, Carl, do you spell
"magically" with one "L" or two?
Two, two. Yeah.
How many?
Eighty-seven people?
Well, I guess you'd better...
Yeah, wire me the list down
here at the hotel, collect.
Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Frank.
I owe you.
- It been doing that a lot?
- Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
Kolchak?
Hello, operator? Hello.
Look, I could hear you
a lot better...
if you took that submarine
sandwich out of your mouth.
Uh, hello... Hello, Tony? Tony.
This is a real lousy connection.
How did the interview go
with Amerta Mera?
- Oh, she did, huh?
- I said, Amerta Mera!
Yeah, well, there's a little place
down off the lobby down here.
It's, uh... It's called The
Char-Pit. It's real cheap, Tony.
The guru, Carl.
Did you get what we need?
How did the interview go
with the guru?
Overcooked. Yeah, the T-bone was lousy,
but the chocolate mousse was passable.
You just get that story wired in
and fast! And it better be a real jewel!
Tony, listen, this hotel is
awfully close to the airport.
There's another
coming over. I can't... Hello?
Hello? Good-bye!
Carl, when you use "its," as in
"ofttimes loses its own charm,"
do you put the apostrophe
before or after the "S"?
Oft? Ofttimes?
Balaban and Matteo, Unit
-Baker-Nevada, checking out.
We're at Windsor Place.
We'll be away from the unit
minutes to an hour. Code .
- -. Copy.
- When are you gonna proofread this?
Uh, why don't you proofread it
and put it out on the wires, okay?
You don't have
any more "ofts," do you?
Or "narys" or "dost thous"?
I never use "dost thou." Um, oh,
I do have a "nary" in here though.
What's wrong with that?
Well, it went out
with "methinks."
Lose the, uh, "nary" and the
"ofts" and put it on the wire, okay?
Okay.
Okay.
Hollywood.
I was beginning to see they
do things strangely there.
A detective lieutenant
puts two suspects in jail...
and then goes back to the scene
of the crime to do his investigation.
What can you expect from
a city that erects a building...
to look like
a stack of flapjacks...
and where some of the men
dust their eyebrows with glitter?
Compared to Tinseltown, Chicago was
beginning to look like the Garden of Eden.
Hey.
- What's your name?
- Uh, Carl Kolchak.
- What are you doing here?
- I'm a reporter with the I.N.S. in Chicago.
Yeah, well, we have enough
homegrown reporters.
- Your help is not needed.
- I think you do need some help.
You got two suspects down in jail. Yet
here you are at the scene of the m*rder,
fretting in this apartment that your department
has gone over with a fine-tooth comb.
I'm a compulsive worrier, okay?
If you're worried about those two
warlocks you got in jail being innocent,
I think you've got
every right to worry.
- Is that right?
- Yeah.
Why is that?
The two victims that were k*lled in this
apartment were k*lled for food by a vampire.
A real one!
One of the reasons I went into police work is
because I thought I'd meet all kinds of people.
You know, interesting
people. That's the truth.
But you're not interesting.
You're just idiotic.
No, I spoke to that deputy
sheriff up in Barstow.
I asked him if there were puncture
marks on the neck of the victims up there.
You know what he said?
He denied it completely!
Yet the truth was hanging
out all over his face.
Come on. You know and I
know that Linda Courtner...
and her boyfriend
here in this apartment...
Both had puncture marks
on their throats.
If I knew that,
I would have told the press.
Why are you having this fantasy?
This is not a fantasy. There's
a pattern to these murders.
You know about the car
up in Barstow.
From what I hear of it,
it's grand theft auto.
Yeah, then you
didn't hear enough.
The windows in that car were
taped up with black paper...
on the inside...
to keep the sunlight...
from coming in.
I have one thing
to tell you, Kolchak...
I want you to get out of town. I
want you to get out of town today.
On your way home, you can drop
off your vampire story in Transylvania.
This vampire didn't come from
Transylvania. It came from Las Vegas.
You put one word of that
nonsense on a Teletype,
and you're back in Windy City before you
have a chance to pull your hat down tight!
Forget the Teletype.
That's unimportant.
What is important is that you and everybody
else in this city stop that vampire. k*ll it!
The only way you're gonna find it
is if you start treating it as a vampire.
- Get out of here.
- No, the only way you can k*ll it is that.
- Listen to me, please. This is very important.
- Get out!
- Now, they have superhuman strength.
- Will you...
The only way you can
hold it at bay is with a cross.
Now, you k*ll it by driving
a stake through its...
Get out.
- You the manager?
- Yeah, and the painter.
And the plumber,
and the gardener.
Did you know Linda Courtner?
Hmm?
You haven't been talking
to reporters, have you?
No. Police gave me
strict instructions.
I'm glad to see you're
complying. Carl Kolchak, I.N.S.
Oh. Well, I'll be glad
to help in any way I can.
That's good. We'll be
grateful for your cooperation.
There's a lot of female clothes missing from
that apartment. You have any idea who took 'em?
Oh, not at all. That's odd,
isn't it? I mean, two men were...
- That's under investigation.
- Oh.
Would you give us a list
or description...
of those clothes and jewelry
so we can put a search on 'em?
She had an awful lot of
clothes. A lot of expensive things.
- Expensive?
- I guess she needed them for her work.
- What kind of work?
- Her hours were very bad.
She'd come in late, go out late.
Some kind of entertainment
thing. Hostessing or something.
Yeah? For whom?
Grace's Catering Service. That's
the name of the firm, I believe.
That's right. Grace's
Catering Service. That's right.
- She was an entertainer, a performer?
- Yeah, I guess so.
My wife overheard her talking
about doing some stunts.
Stunts.
Are you sure
she didn't say "tricks"?
Oh, the reason she made that mistake
is because her sister went out of town...
to go into show business,
and we naturally assumed...
She went out of town and
went into show business where?
- Las Vegas.
- Las Vegas.
Yeah, she was gonna be a
showgirl, but then she disappeared,
and Mrs. Courtner
was very upset.
- Yes, her name... her
name was... - Catherine.
Catherine. That's right.
Catherine Courtner.
No. She never married,
that I know of.
No, the family name was Stallings
or Rawlings. Rawlins! That was it!
R-A-W... Hey, where you going?
- Did you tell him anything?
- No, I didn't tell him anything.
And he didn't know anything.
May , : p.m.
Ichabod Grace,
businessman, entrepreneur,
was about to make an investment.
More of a takeover
than a merger.
Ichabod's terms were fair,
his pitch persuasive.
Ichabod thought he had added
another filly to his stable of trotters.
In Ichabod's parlance, his new
acquisition was called a "fox."
He had no way of knowing she was
actually more closely related to the bat.
I picked up the missing persons
list from Las Vegas at the desk.
A Miss Catherine Rawlins
was number on the sheet.
She had been arrested a
few times for prostitution.
Late in , at the age of ,
she'd been listed as a missing person.
Two things were now clear...
She was no longer missing, nor
could she now be considered a person.
Hello?
When I brushed my teeth this
morning, Kolchak, you were still alive,
but then I started shaving, and
the whole world ended for you.
Tony? Is it Tony?
I can't hear you, Tony!
Turn the shaver off, Carl.
Now, where have you been,
why the games, and why
haven't you returned my calls?
Well, I haven't been in the hotel room.
I've been working, and it's paying off.
Listen, there's more to this
meditation thing than meets the eye.
I've been running down
some interesting side roads,
and I've gotten... It's
really very interesting.
- Is that right?
- Mmm.
I'd like to ask you a few questions
about the Amerta Mera interview itself.
- Could I call you back on that?
- No!
Does Mera's mansion really
have copper pipes throughout?
- Copper pipes?
- Yes, plumbing. Plumbing!
Uh... Well, yes, Tony. Some of
these old, uh... these old mansions,
they do have, uh, copper pipes.
Fascinating.
And they also have "low-maintenance
grounds, a Spanish tile roof...
and a separate adobe cabana"?
Yeah, that's what it says, Tony.
Yeah, that's right. I thought
it was very interesting.
I thought I had my wires crossed
with Better Homes and Gardens.
I didn't send you there
to interview real estate.
Well, Tony, I thought
it was a new angle, you see?
However, if you'd like a rewrite, I'll
have it on the way for you tomorrow.
Oh, you will have a rewrite
on the way tomorrow,
but if another story comes in
looking like this, it will be the end.
- You got it?
- Yeah, got it. Got it.
- Good! And, Carl?
- Yes?
You can go on
and finish your shave now.
- He didn't like it, did he?
- He wants a rewrite.
No, no, no. He was really
very excited about it.
Yeah, he, uh... he doesn't
want a rewrite, exactly.
He just wants a, uh, polish.
Then why was he shouting?
Oh, listen. Editors shout a
lot. You gotta get used to that.
Well, I'll look over my notes and
see if I can tighten it up a little bit.
Yeah, listen, uh, I heard about a-a
business named Grace's Catering Service,
but, Faye, it's not listed
here in the directory.
You, uh... You wouldn't have
heard about it, would you?
- No, I don't think I have.
- It's not listed under "Catering."
Maybe it's under
"Restaurants."
"P." "R." That's it.
Restaurants.
"G" and Ninth.
Afternoon.
Grace's Catering Service.
Yeah, I'd like...
I'd like to speak
to Catherine Rawlins.
She's not in right now.
I could take a message.
Well, do you know where I could
see her, where I could reach her?
You could reach her
through me. That's about it.
I see.
Well, I'd like, uh...
I'd like her to deliver...
something warm,
if that's possible.
- That's what we're here for.
- Good.
Could she deliver it
to my hotel room?
Hold on a minute.
- Little after : okay?
- No, no. No.
Later. How about after
: a.m.
No dice.
Well, okay.
Make it after :.
All right. Give me your room number,
where you're at and your first name.
Sure.
Uh, . The name is Tony.
Okay, friend. You got
yourself an appointment.
- Now, about the rewrite... -
Yeah. We'll get on that tomorrow.
- Tomorrow?
- Mm-hmm.
But, look, I'm worried about
your editor. He expects the rewrite.
- I was hoping you'd help me.
- Sure, sure, sure. Listen. We'll do it tomorrow.
We'll just, uh... We'll get
into it and do an absolutely...
fantastic job tomorrow.
Okay?
- Tomorrow.
- Tomorrow.
Good-bye. Oh, Faye.
Uh, could you lend me
your lipstick?
Is there something
you'd like to talk about?
I mean, maybe I could
help you in some way.
We will! We will. I'll tell
you everything tomorrow.
I'll give you a full explanation, but right
now could I just borrow your lipstick?
Thank you very much. Bye.
- Who is it?
- Grace's Catering.
Door's open. Come on in.
- Tony?
- Come on in.
Back!
All right.
Which freako scene is this?
- You're not Catherine Rawlins.
- You're not Marcello Mastroianni,
but you don't hear me
crying about it.
- Where's Catherine?
- Well, you're all flattery, aren't you, Father?
No, no. I didn't want her to
come up here for, uh... for, uh...
No, it's very important
that I meet her.
Ichabod sent her off on
another gig at the last minute.
What... What does that
witch have that I don't?
Believe me, baby, you would not
want to know. Now, who's Ichabod?
Ichabod Grace, the main man.
- My sugar mac. Catherine's too.
- Uh-huh.
And where do I find Catherine?
Where does she live? Do you know?
That creep
doesn't talk to anybody.
I don't know anything about her
except she uses four pounds...
of pancake and rouge on
her face, and guys pay for that.
Well, she has to use it.
She's not well.
- Aww.
- Where do I find Ichabod?
You're gonna find him hoppin' mad when he
hears I came up here and didn't get paid.
Two hundred dollars,
sweetcheeks.
- Two hundred dollars?
- Welcome to Hollywood, sailor.
I don't have to answer questions
like that about my business.
That's an invasion of the
laissez-faire principle of free enterprise.
Yeah, Linda Courtner used
to work for you, is that right?
- Maybe. So what?
- Catherine Rawlins k*lled her.
You're nuts. Why would she
want to do a thing like that?
Uh, well, Catherine Rawlins
was Linda Courtner's sister,
and she had reasons that
even you wouldn't understand.
- Sister?
- Yeah.
- You are crazy.
- I am?
What has Catherine been
wearing lately in the way of clothes?
I'll bet my bottom dollar
they all belong to Linda.
You know, maybe there is
some kind of family resemblance.
I just never noticed it. And
that Catherine... She is weird.
You could be considered an accessory
to a m*rder. Now, where is she?
- Talk to my lawyer.
- You talk to your lawyer.
You're withholding evidence
in a k*lling. Now, where is she?
- I sent her over to Stacker's pad.
- Stacker? Stacker who?
"Stacker who?" Don't
you follow football, chum?
Clayton "Stacker" Schumaker
of the Los Angeles Rams.
: p.m.
Tackle Hugo Maltz and the famous
Rams Godzilla g*ng arrived...
at the home of Stacker Schumaker
to give their amorous teammate...
what Maltz had called
one hellacious surprise.
The surprise was all theirs.
It-It got... It got knocked in there during
the fight. Be careful! Careful, will you?
Please, they might be good.
There. Okay.
Oh, that's terrific.
That's just terrific.
- Listen, these pictures would
have shown... - I know. A woman.
- Yeah.
- A woman did all this, huh?
Ask your men. They chased her for
three blocks. Ask them what they saw.
All they saw is someone
with long hair.
Could have been a guy from the Dark
Star Coven. They all have long hair.
Yeah. Are they all built
like Veronica Lake?
Can they juggle the Godzilla
g*ng single-handedly, huh?
Ever hear of karate, kung fu?
Listen, what I saw was not
kung fu, and it wasn't chow mein.
- It was a female vampire.
- I don't want to hear that word again!
- With superhuman strength.
- But I don't have superhuman patience!
What I do have is all used up.
Her name is Catherine Rawlins.
She's the sister of Linda Courtner.
She disappeared in Las Vegas
after having been bitten by a vam...
Thousands of people disappear!
Is Amelia Earhart supposed
to show up as a vampire?
Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Ha-ha-ha!
She was a high-priced hooker in Vegas.
She probably operates exactly
the same way down here.
Go on. Find her. Look for her.
k*ll her. Use your resources.
Chicago, Lieutenant.
I'm gonna use
my resources on you.
- Collect, right?
- Collect.
- Hello. Mr. Anthony Vincenzo?
- Yes. Yes.
- Lieutenant Matteo, L.A.P.D.
- Oh! It's Kolchak, isn't it?
He was found on the scene
of a multiple homicide.
He's a material witness, and if we
want to, we can make him more than that.
Pretty soon the flak is gonna
start flying back to Chicago.
Please, please, Lieutenant.
Uh, let me speak to him.
I don't want
that word mentioned.
Hi, Tony.
I'm tired of it, Kolchak.
I am fed up!
I've got a brother-in-law
who's got a -year-old kid...
he's always bailing
out of juvenile hall,
but I've got you,
and you are worse!
Tony, they're just pressuring me, that's
all. What they're doing isn't even legal.
Whatever it is, you do it, Carl, or so
help me, you haven't got a job here.
But, Tony,
it was an absolutely remarkable
thing; it's an incredible story.
I mean it, Carl! I'll fire you.
I won't have any choice.
You've lied, you've connived, you've weaseled,
and you belong on the unemployment line!
Tony, Tony, listen to me. I was
here in the flesh when it happened,
when all the killings
took place.
It was done by a female vamp...
It was what? Are you
there, Kolchak? It was what?
It was a...
Well, some say it was
a couple of warlocks.
I don't know what you're
talking about, and I don't care.
You just remember this... Whatever
you do next, I.N.S. is not behind you.
I.N.S. is only behind a
story on Amerta Mera,
which, incidentally,
I.N.S. better get,
or you'll be waiting in line
at Window "A"!
I understand you, I.N.S.
Over and out.
Kolchak. Kolchak!
Oh, I'm sorry.
You want to speak to him?
I'll say it to you. Be on a
plane by : this morning.
Well, I don't know
if I can make that.
Then we'll carry you on
and stuff you into a seat.
Balaban! Give Mr. Kolchak
a ride back to his hotel.
- He's tired of the smog. He wants to go home.
- Oh, no, no, I like Los...
If he won't get in the car, jam
his tie in the door and drag him.
Oh, that's a sa...
That's a dumb thing.
That's a silly...
thing to do.
Uh, Officer, do you have a
wife and little ones at home?
- Hi. Can I come in?
- Oh, yeah. Sure.
Oh, here's your lipstick.
Thank you.
How'd you make out?
Terrific.
You're not leaving now, are you?
Well, it's either now or after
years in San Quentin.
- Personally, I prefer now.
- Carl, I sure hate to see you go.
You're in the minority.
We'll keep in touch.
Listen, what about the story? I've got some
terrific ideas. I know you're gonna love it.
I'll bet you have. Write it.
Oh, no. It's back
to real estate for me.
No, no. You keep on writing. It'll take you
a little time to get the hang of it, but...
Real estate?
Do companies out here rent
as well as sell houses?
- Well, sure. We've got a lot of them.
- Yeah.
How would a... How would a person find
out if a house had been rented or sold,
uh, purchased or bought or
leased in the last week or two?
Well, I could look in multiple
listings. It covers every broker in town.
- It'd take a while.
- At your office?
- Yeah.
- Where's your office?
It turned out that Los Angeles has
nearly as many real estate offices...
as it has traffic jams.
Poor Faye Kruger and I spent
straight hours on the phone...
till we finally had some luck,
if you can call it luck.
By the time Catherine Rawlins's house
had been located, the sun had gone down,
and if I waited for daylight, I'd
find myself on an eastbound jet...
compliments of the police,
and Catherine would be thousands
of miles behind me, slumbering,
waiting for the next in an endless
number of dark, quiet nights.
The multiple listings had described
Catherine's house as a baronial retreat.
It was actually a decayed,
turn-of-the-century mansion...
awaiting to be replaced
by a condominium,
and it would appeal to
a special type of client,
someone unconcerned
with earthly comforts.
And it was secluded.
Who would go near it?
Only a vampire or
some fool looking for her.
Get away!
Yeah! Aah!
Hey! Get away! Get away!
Matteo had
a detective tailing me,
but he lost me about the
time Catherine found me.
I wasn't particularly
hard to find after that.
It was just a question
of following the light.
I was told it could be seen
from the Sunset Strip,
West Los Angeles and Malibu.
It was a local landmark, so
I had to pay for another one,
and I didn't mind at all.
I just couldn't think of a way to
get it on the expense account.
They booked me for m*rder,
just like I thought they would,
but then, after hours,
they let me go.
They never did say why, but as I
was sitting in Lieutenant Matteo's office,
waiting for execution,
I happened to see a coroner's
report on Catherine Rawlins.
I quote the coroner...
"The tissue structure of the individual
appeared to be that of a female, species: human,
"who had been dead
at least three years.
This is a medical conundrum
for which I have no explanation."
Three years.