04x05 - The Dog and Pony Show

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "The Rockford Files". Aired: September 13, 1974 – January 10, 1980.*
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Follows ex-convict turned private investigator from his mobile home in a parking lot on a beach in Malibu, California.
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04x05 - The Dog and Pony Show

Post by bunniefuu »

I'm scared for her.
I'm scared for myself.

You know what you sound like?
A conspiracy buff.

She's in trouble.
And so am I.
And you got me into it.

I told you Uncle Sam
was too good and too smart

and too decent
to do anything like this.

I want a report on Rockford.
I want him wired.
I want him covered.

First thing we gotta do is
Mary Jo and you and I
are gonna make out a will.

A what?
Will. As in last will
and testament.

This is Jim Rockford.

At the tone, leave your name
and message.

I'll get back to you.

MAN: Jimmy? Hello.
You owe me five bucks.

Matarazzo's average
in the '68 Series
was .310, not .315.

Oh, and Fran and I
are getting divorced.

ANGEL:
Everybody takes a
souvenir fork now and then.

That is not a souvenir fork.

The total value of that
restaurant property is $207.

Your Honor, I've repeatedly
stated that I had no idea

those things were in
the back of my car

when we left
the racetrack.

Mr. Martin put them there
without my knowledge.

He's admitted that.
I don't see why I...

Mr. Rockford,
I'm going to sentence you
to a term of not less

than 30 days
in the county jail for
transporting stolen property.

And you, Mr. Martin,

you are going to serve
not less than 90 days
in the county jail

for felony grand theft.

I'm going to suspend
those sentences.

But only because our jails
are too crowded to waste space
on people who steal spoons.

And I am suspending sentence
on the condition that both
of you seek psychiatric help

in resolving these...

These problems that
you seem to have that keep
leading you to criminal acts.

You'll be told who to contact
by a county social worker
in the next few days.

That's all.

I'm sorry, Jimmy.

I tried to explain
you were clean.

You heard me.
Listen, it's all part
of the public record.

So she yelled
and screamed.

It must have gone on
for two hours straight.

Then she took all my clothes
and heaved them
five flights down.

My socks and underwear
were spread all over
Ocean Front Avenue.

But the question
that was asked, Leon,

was did you stand up
for yourself this time?

Yes, this time I did.

As I was going down
to pick them up, I said,

"Thanks a lot, Mom."

What a tiger.

Ever see anything like him?

Well, I don't know.
At least he said something.

His mother probably
knew how he felt.

Yeah but you wouldn't
take her guff, would you.

The way I size you up
after a week in here is...

Is you're a guy
who comes on straight ahead.

You've got your act together.

He's right, Jim.

I want to tell you
honestly how I feel.

I like having you
in this group.

Yeah, but you, who knows
where you're coming from.

You've been sitting here
for a week like a lump
of lard.

You talking to me, buddy?

I guess you think
you're above it all?

You snicker
at other people.

Who do you
think you are?

Hey, Doc, if I want
to take guff off
a bunch of bananas,

I'll go down to the produce
department at Safeway.

You don't have to take it.

Confront them.
Honestly, directly.

I don't, uh... I don't...

I don't feel well.

I got word that a very
dear friend of mine
passed away today.

I just don't want
to talk about it.

It's true.

I see. Suit yourself.

Turkeys.

Well, we haven't heard much
from you tonight, Mary Jo.
How's everything going?

Fine.

No, it's not fine.

I think it's starting
to happen again.

You mean thinking
somebody is out to get you?

Except this time
it seems different.
It's not like before.

You know,
when I thought everybody
I met was out to undo me?

It's like I feel someone
is always watching me.

Someone I don't even know.

I should tell you
what happened to me

when I was coming home
from school one night
last week.

I heard someone following me.

First in a car
and then on foot.

But it was dark and I
couldn't see anyone.

So I ran.

And you just
let them.

You just let them
jump all over me without
a peep, didn't you?

Well, I just kept remembering
how you got me into
this whole thing

and sat back
and enjoyed it.

Thanks a lot, Jimmy.
Letting a bunch of
bozos insult me.

People don't even know
how to tie their own
shoelaces.

I'll bet they talk
to their socks.

Angel, now,
they're not crazy.

I mean, they're just
average people with problems
they're trying to solve.

That's all.
MARY JO: Jim?

Yeah.

Um, I was wondering
if I could talk with you
for a moment, alone.

You said you're
a private detective.

Are you available
right now?

To do what?

What happened last week,
that wasn't the first time.

When I was living on campus,
two weeks ago, I saw two men
watching me from a car.

I also think someone tried
to jimmy the door to my room.

Why would someone
be watching you?

I don't know.

I know what
you're thinking.

Okay, so I've had
some emotional problems.
Persecution things.

But I've worked on them
and I've licked them.

And I want to know
what's going on with me.

It's not that I don't
want the job, Mary Jo,

but I'm a little
overcommitted right now.

I mean, I've got a couple
of insurance cases and...

Yeah, sure.
I understand.

I'd be glad
to recommend someone else...

No, that's okay, Jim.
I'll work it out.
See you Thursday night.

Yeah. Thursday.

You're overcommitted to what?
Being broke?

Stop it.

No, Pepper.
No. Come back.
Come back, Pepper.

Here, Pepper, boy!

You know, I don't care
what they say,

I still don't believe it was
just a burglary attempt.

He didn't take anything.

Maybe you scared him off
before he had time.

How much time does it take
to pocket a $1,200 camera?

Or this stuff?

Okay, but let's don't
automatically assume

it was a personal att*ck
against Mary Jo Flynn.

I mean, a junkie out
looking for buy money
is far more likely.

This yours?

Who knows?

You collect this
stuff like lint.

I do keep a whole bunch
of pens and pencils
in that drawer.

But it could have fallen out
of your guest's pocket

while he was dancing
with your dog.

What help would
that be anyway?

The car leasing company
must give those pens out
to thousands of people.

Let's, uh... Let's both
stick to what we seem
to do best, okay?

Hey, you don't give me
advice on detective work,

and I won't give you
advice on moping.

You're saying
you'll take the job?

Why not?

It's a piece of cake now.

You did get a partial
license plate number

and you said the van
was brown or dark red.

Or black or gray.

Or green.

Mary Jo, I, uh...

I don't want to pry,

but you know the problems
you were talking about
in group?

Well, the group
calls it paranoia

but it really wasn't that.

Last year,
at the art school
in Santa Barbara,

I had a love affair
with a man.

It didn't work out too well.

I felt the world
was against me.

But I came out of it.

Then I got this teaching
assistantship in photography
down here

and I'm working
on my problems still,
in group.

That's it.

Okay.

That's it.

Hi. Jim Slade,
radio station KLLB.

Vic Cassell.
What can I do for you?

Last night a van,
license number 1 E-49901,

registered to this store,

was seen driving
super-courteously
in Westwood.

I'm here to present
our Nice Guys Finish
First Award

to the motorist
of that van.

Oh, wow, Vic,
that's you.

She guessed it.

That's right.
We have for you, Vic,

an album
of Love is Habit-Forming
by Sweeta Lee

the double album of
Marguerita Wasn't No Woman
by the Tex-Mex Singers,

and if you can
answer our question
on the history of pop,

for today,
you can win yourself
$1,000.

I'm ready.
What's your question?

Okay, the question
for today is...

Oh, wait.
Wait a minute.
You said Westwood?

Yeah.

Oh, I was not
in Westwood last night.

You sure?

Our car said they spotted
your van near Glendon Avenue.

No, listen, I could use
an extra $1,000.

My kid just yanked out
every brace in her mouth.

But, no, I drove my van
to my home on Truesdale.

You must have
the wrong license.

Damn it.

Oh, Vic, you're such a poop.
What'd you tell him that for?

He never would have known.

That's a nice thing to say
in front of the gentleman.

And I have to trust her
with my cash register.

Well, it is nice
to meet an honest man.

Thank you.
I just don't understand
why our men made a mistake

in the license plate...

See, I was an
underprivileged kid.

Down in Texas,
me and my family,
we were dirt poor.

I remember one Christmas,
we were riding along
Highway 61, state highway,

we found this pig
been hit by a car.

We took it home,
Mama cooked it up.

We couldn't afford no food.

But that Christmas,
I had a football made
from the skin of that pig.

Daddy made it himself.

Just never did stay inflated.

Okay, so you were poor.

But so was your sister
and she did all right
according to you.

She's a woman.
She had it easy.

Hold it a second.
Angel, how poor were you?

Didn't you tell me
your father owned some
grain silos back there?

What are you, Jimmy?
The family historian?
I'll tell the story, okay?

I was poor.

Poor.

Like in poor.

I resent being lied to.

Hey, that's the last time
I talk in here.

Good.

Mary Jo, you look like you
have something you might
want to talk about.

Well, somebody
broke into my house
the other night

and I asked Jim
if he'd look into it.

He told me,
and the police told me,
that it was just a burglar.

I insisted it was
more than that.

Jim, what's the story?

Well, uh...

I traced a license plate
back to a boutique
in Beverly Hills.

I talked to the people,
they seemed pretty
straight-arrow.

I just don't see the tie-in
between a boutique
and a terror campaign.

I don't know
this boutique owner.

There's no reason in the world
why he'd be in my bedroom.

Somebody was.

A burglar.

I think we'd better talk
this whole thing out, Mary Jo.

You say it's different,
but to me it sounds like
the same kind of thing

that landed you
in that psychiatric hospital.

Wait a second.

Mary Jo, were you
hospitalized?

You didn't tell him,
Mary Jo?

Okay.

I was in an
institution, alright?

Las Brisas Hospital
in Santa Barbara.

Paranoid schizophrenia.

I was there for months.

And the way it sounds,
I should have signed up
for another semester, right?

Why didn't you tell me?

Because of that.

That look.

You'd never have
taken the job.

Well, you don't know that.

When I take a job
there are certain risks.

Legal hassles,
physical threats.

It's bad enough without having
my own client pull the rug
out from under me.

So this is just another way
of saying you just don't
work for flippos?

You put it that way.

I probably wouldn't have.

Jim, leave her alone.

This is stupid.

He looks stupid.
We look stupid.

All right, let's pretend
like there's nothing wrong.

Would you mind backing up
so I could get out
of the alley?

Oh, if that's all you want,
all you have to do is ask.

We were reading a map.
We're lost.

Well, I'm not.

I know exactly where I'm going
unless you tell me why
you're tailing me.

All right.
Put the stick down,
Mr. Rockford. Let's talk.

That's right,
the DMV told us
who you are.

Now we did a little
scouting around.

We find out you're
a private investigator.

All we want to know
is what you're working on.

Yeah? Well,
that's confidential.

And unless you tell me
why you want to know,
you can take a hike.

All right, Sid.

Oh, you want to know
what case I'm working on?

Well, it's a divorce
case.

Yeah, there's a guy
named Milbank
out in Calabasas.

He went up and married
a nineteen-year-old
French gymnast

at the Olympics
up in Montreal.

You know,
he's trying to figure out
why he can't keep her at home.

Well, I mean,
the man's 62 years old...

Mary Jo?
Just slow down, will you?

Look, I'd rather
not talk right now.

I feel bad enough about
what happened the other night.

Not as bad as I feel.
I want to apologize.

You heard it.

Unfortunately, it's one
of those good newslbad news
situations.

The good news is
you're as sane as anybody.

The bad news is I think
maybe somebody might want
to cancel your scholarship.

Who?

I don't know,
a thin guy,

mid-30s,
well-cut suit.

Mean anything?

No. Not really.

Well, this guy...
I mean, what happened?

Why would you...
Why would you say that
somebody's following me?

Oh, we had a little mix-up,
and they pulled a .357 Magnum
on me.

But the point of it is,
I saw a visitor's parking
sticker on their car

from Las Brisas Hospital.

Can you think of anything
stemming from your little
stay in that place

that might account
for all the harassment
you've been getting?

No. I can't imagine.

It was just an expensive
private mental hospital.

Hey, hey.

May Jo, you know, I'll bet
that you're the only person
you know

who thinks your
mental illness
is so shameful.

But you almost
got hurt today.

If I have to make a choice
between being insane
and seeing people get hurt...

Hey, it's going to work out.

The only thing now
is to get you someplace

where you can disappear
till we find out
what's going on.

Never mind, it's silly.
Mary Jo.

There was a patient
in isolation

and there were always
attendants stationed
around his room.

They told us
he was very violent.

But he wasn't like
a raving psychotic.

One night, after lights out,
he managed to talk to me.

He was frightened,
and I mean really frightened.

Of what?
Don't laugh when I tell you.

He said he was
an American
intelligence agent

and that he'd been deeply
involved in the overthrow
of the Chilean government.

But he'd gotten turned off,
so he started secretly
writing a book

about what really
happened in Chile.

But the agency caught him.

And put him under wraps
in Las Brisas.

Well, he claimed that
they took all his notes
and his papers

and that they were intending
to k*ll him quietly.

You know, I just figured
it was a delusion.

BECKER: Did this agent
have a name?

ROCKFORD: Joseph.
Joseph Bloomberg.

MARY JO:
You think it's far-fetched,
don't you, Sergeant?

Far-fetched? Why, no.
Why come to me anyway?

This department has
nothing to do with the
National Intelligence Agency.

Their field is intelligence
in foreign countries.

They are forbidden by law
to act in domestic affairs.

So we have no contact
with them.

But what do you do
when you pick up
a political t*rror1st, huh?

Call the Forestry Service?

No contact. None.

I'm sorry, Miss Flynn.

But you say this guy Bloomberg
wanted you to get word
to the outside

about his problem?

Right, to Congressman
Alan Brody

of the House Subcommittee
on Intelligence.

But you didn't do anything.

Well, I forgot.
I didn't really...

Didn't what?
Take him seriously?
But I'm supposed to?

Come on, Dennis,

I think somebody's pinpointed
her as the same woman
that was at Las Brisas.

I'll tell you
something else.

That guy in that alley
had a hogleg that big.
And he used it.

I'm scared for her.
I'm scared for myself.

You don't even know
what you're talking about.

You know what you sound like?
A conspiracy buff.

Okay, fine. Fine.
You don't want in? Fine.
Just give me a name.

Someone I can call
tomorrow morning
at the Agency, huh?

All I want is some kind
of confirmation that there
is an Agent Joseph Bloomberg.

Then we'll be sitting
right back here having
that same conversation, huh?

Now, come on,
how about an entre?

It's your own head
on the block.

Bill Simonds, suite 99A
on Wilshire Boulevard.

He heads up the Agency's
Los Angeles branch office.

Since when is Los Angeles
a foreign country, huh?

Well, this is Suite 99A,
but there's no Bloomberg here.

Fella told me Bloomberg
works out of this office.
Suite 99A.

What fella?

Well, down at the LAX.
The VIP lounge.

Our dispatcher from
the messenger service
got a call to pick up a parcel

so I went over there
and he gave me this package

to give to Agent
Joseph Bloomberg,

told me to deliver it here.

What's in it? Did he say?

But he specifically said Agent
Joseph Bloomberg, huh?

What kind of agent did
he say Bloomberg was?

He didn't.

Oh, look at that
noonday traffic.

I bet you had a tough time
getting into the Department's
garage, huh?

No. No, not really.

Now, this man
who gave you the package,
did he give you his name,

or did he have any special
physical characteristics?

Oh, excuse me before I...

Before I forget...

Yeah, uh, Martin? Bill here.

I just wanted to remind you
to have my car washed
and waxed.

That's a roger.

Tell you what I'll do,
if you don't mind waiting
just a minute,

I'll make a call
and see if maybe you've
got the wrong floor.

All right.
Okay.

Pickup truck?

Check the glove compartment.

Well, it turns out there was
an Agent Joseph Bloomberg
in the building.

But he was only
with the Department
of Weights and Measures.

Yeah, they closed down
the entire operation here

so you couldn't very well
deliver that to him.

But I've got a buddy who's
with W&M in San Diego.

If you want to leave
the parcel with me,

I'll be glad to see
that it's delivered
to Bloomberg.

Hey, would you do that?
Certainly.

Of course,
you'll have to sign for it.

Sure.

You know,
the problem nowadays

is nobody wants
to help the other guy.

Yeah, well,
hey, thank you.

Thank you a lot.
And you have a nice day,
now, huh?

Sure thing.

Senior staff.
My office.
Now.

Old copies of
Newsbreak Magazine?

Send them down to the lab
for a microfilm scan.

Did we ever have
Bloomberg, Joseph, working
out of or through this office?

Not to my knowledge.
Hal?

HAL: Mmm-mmm.
Scenarios anybody?

Most likely,
wrong address.

Hal?
Agreed.

Anyone here ever work
with a Bloomberg elsewhere
in the company?

Possibly even another station?

Then it's probably
just a common error.

You say "probably."
Alternative scenarios?

Scenario Number One:

Bloomberg works
in this office,
identity altered.

Why, Bill?
Why indeed?

Logical extension
of Scenario One.

Bloomberg works in
or near this office

on a project
that's top drawer.

Too top drawer
for us to handle,

according to brass
in Washington.

Going behind our backs?

Well, I gotta admit
it wouldn't be the first time.

Or Scenario Two.
There is no top
drawer project.

Bloomberg,
or just code-name Bloomberg,

is sent from headquarters
to interface with us

to compile
an efficiency report

and then to put on
a big dog and pony show
for the brass.

A definite possible.
Just the way G-section
likes to work.

Or what about
the Bloomberg Parcel Move,
or just BPM?

Huh? All staged?

Just a gambit
to throw us off guard,

test our turnaround time
to unexpected input.

Any possibles for Bloomberg?

Somebody on the junior staff,
possibly.

I never did like that
new log officer, Hechtman.

Well, one thing's clear,
the senior staff is clean.

Bloomberg is no one
in this room.

Hal, as far as the junior
staff's concerned,

I'm going to throw
that ball into your court.

I want a bill of health
on everyone and I
want it yesterday.

For right now,
we're going to look
into that messenger service.

I want a report on Rockford.
I want him wired.
I want him covered.

Do you think he was a mickey?

Possibly.

So they took
your package, sonny.

Well, that don't necessarily
mean nothin', does it?

Maybe there was another
Bloomberg in the building.

Simonds just
wanted the package.

He didn't call
around the building.

The phone button
didn't light up on
his secretary's extension.

Jimmy, pass
the mustard greens.

And there's something else
odd about it, though.

I checked that boutique.

Mr. Cassell, the owner,
has gone on a sudden
buying trip.

Nobody knows where.

What do you think, Angel?

Yeah, boy, these are
the best biscuits
I ever ate.

We're talking
about the problem.

Oh.

You know,
if only we had
some kind of tangible proof,

then maybe
we could get some action

from the government.

You said Bloomberg
was guarded.

By who? How heavily?

Las Brisas looks like
a country convalescent home,
and there are guards.

But I don't want
to see you try something
like breaking in there.

I don't see where
we have much choice.

But I will need
a diversion

so I can get back
to Bloomberg's room
and try to talk to him.

Ah! Now we're getting
to the nitty-gritty.

Now it's beginning
to make sense.

"Come on over to Rocky's
for dinner, Angel,"
serve my favorite food.

First time I've been
invited over here for so much
as a glass of water.

I could use a hand
in the kitchen with
the coffee and dessert.

Forget about the dessert.

You don't buy Angel Martin
with a couple of drumsticks
and some red-eye gravy.

Angel, now she's in trouble.

And so am I
and you got me into it.

I may have had a minor role
in getting you into
that therapy group

but I didn't tell you
to get all messed up

with the National
International
Intelligence Agency.

And I'm not going to.

All you have to do
is stand around and keep
the attendant busy.

It's a snap.

We'll need your car
and when it's over,
you just drive off.

I spent half my adult life
getting that Caddy with
them Naugahyde seats.

Not a chance in hell.

And who loaned you
the 200 bucks to buy that car?
Do you remember?

I'll tell you who did.

The same guy who's going
to take the pink slip

if you don't come
through for him.

Hey buddy.
Where's Santa Barbara?

You're twelve miles out.

Las Brisas Hospital.

You're not supposed to be
on these grounds
past 9:00 p.m.

I'm lost.

I was supposed to be
at the Santa Barbara Arms

for the keyboard
sales convention.

I left the showroom
four hours ago in Los Angeles.

This thing,
now it's going
to stop on me.

Hey, hey.
Come on, this is a hospital.

Look, I got a customized
stick shift.

You give me a little push,
I can get started down here.

How about it?
Well, come on.
Give me a hand.

Yeah, yeah.

Well, hurry up.
Right over there
by that incline.

We'll get it.
She wants to go.
I know it.

She's been
running right along.
Had emotional problems.

ANGEL: Harder...
I can't...

Harder. Oh, we got it
going now, don't stop.

Come on...
We really got it now...
Come on.

Push! Push!

I'm pushing.

Mr. Bloomberg?

Mr. Bloomberg,
are you in there?

I'm Bloomberg.
Who are you?
What do you want?

My name's Jim Rockford.
I'm here as a favor
to a friend of yours.

Mary Jo Flynn.

This some kind of ploy?
I don't know a Mary Jo Flynn.

Yeah, she used to be
a patient here.

She was a blond girl
with blue eyes.

You talked to her.

You told her why
you were in here.

Do you remember doing that,
Mr. Bloomberg?

Oh, that girl.
I'd given up on her.

I thought she'd dismissed me
as a mental case.

Look, you've got
to get me out of here.

They've started
giving me dr*gs,
heavy doses of MAOs.

Monoamine oxydaze
inhibitors.

Clinically they're used as a
depressant, you know, but they
have permanent side effects.

And I'm not depressed at all.

In fact, I'm more determined
than ever to b*at this thing.

Well, just who are "they,"
Mr. Bloomberg?

Do you remember
what you told Mary Jo?

Testing, huh?

You want to make sure
there's something upstairs
besides white noise?

I can't blame you.
I'd be skeptical too.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
I'll call the auto club.

Just a few more feet.
You push a few more feet.
I pushed it all this way.

It's going right
down the hill.

You want it pushed,
you push it.

We only got...
I don't want to hear it.

Well, look, uh,
I don't have much time.

Mary Jo said something
about Chile and the coup.

You see my cover...

I was a professor
of Latin American studies
on sabbatical from Dartmouth.

I was into that blood
up to my elbows.

Salvador Allende,
he didn't commit su1c1de.

He was sh*t.

By a team of experts,
trained by American trainers,
financed by American dollars.

In fact, the only surprise
was that he wasn't carted out
of his palace

by an American hearse.

Could you give me a name,
someone we could contact
who was down there with you

who might have
material evidence and be
willing to give it to us...

Jimmy.
Jimmy, we're busto.

The guard went
to call the tow truck.

I tried to give him the money
but he was just too
teed off...

It's Joey B.
That's Joey B.

Look, just give me a name,
Mr. Bloomberg, a name.
Quick.

I know him
from the Clam House.
They said he was dead.

Don't refer to me
by code names.

Don't refer to me
by code names.

Don't refer to me
by code names!

Jimmy. Jimmy, come on.
Hey, will you shut up?

You can see
you're upsetting him.
Jimmy, he's all mobbed up.

He's married
into the Lorenz family.
He's an enforcer.

I will not stand idly by
while someone blows my cover.

Joey B was unclean.
Unclean in mind and body.

Stop, you.
There are no schizophrenics.
Allende was m*rder*d.

Even his psychiatrist
tried to k*ll him
with a poison dart.

There are no
schizophrenics.

Come on, let's go.

No, Jimmy.
Not my Caddy...
Jimmy! Caddy.

They'll repo...
Get in there.

Where's that fire road?
This ain't the fire road.

I can see that, Angel.

What the deuce?

We'll need a read-out
on this hospital.

Rockford's headed south,
probably on County 27.

Jimmy, remember I used
to hang out with Murf Bucco
at the Caputo Clam House?

Every Friday night
would be bouillabaisse night.

Now every Friday night,
there'd be Joey B
with some hoods and hookers,

getting spots on his shirt.

You've heard us talking
about Joseph Bloomberg,

now, why didn't
you say something?

That didn't mean
nothing to me.

I always heard
the name Joey B.
Or Joey the B.

About a year ago
he disappeared.

Word on the street
was that he'd d*ed.

He gone to Israel
to plant some trees
and the helicopter crashed.

Murf Bucco?

Murf once told me
that he was best man

at the wedding
of Barbara Lorenz.

That's Papa Frank
Lorenz's daughter.

The guy that married
Barbara Lorenz,
that's Joey B.

Well, I mean, listen...
I mean, Joey B's connected.
He's an insider.

He must be privy
to all kinds of top level
syndicate business.

A guy like that blows his lid,
he becomes a thr*at.

No telling what he's going
to say to who and when.

They wouldn't hide him
in a hospital.
They'd just k*ll him.

You know how they are.

Not his own relatives.
His wife, his father-in-law...

Maybe they wanted
to protect him from
the other families.

So that's why they wanted
to do something about me,

so I wouldn't
leak his location,
even by accident.

Well, the guy's
obviously crazy.

He don't know nothing
about Chile except it's
something to eat.

I told you Uncle Sam
was too good and too smart

and too decent
to do anything like this.

Look what you done
to me, Jimmy.

My car's in the laughing
academy.

My name's on the registration,
big as life.
I've got to get out of town.

Well, where
are you going to go?
You know they'll find you.

Look, maybe we can get out
of this if we deal.

Deal with Papa Frank Lorenz?

Where you been living,
in Norway?

We're holding the best cards
we could hold. Joey B's life.

Now Lorenz lives
in Holmby Hills,
it's up on Charing Cross.

The big white house...
Now just you wait a minute.

You sound like you're
gonna see that crumb.

No, no, no.
You let the man
do what he wants to do.

Listen Jimmy, do you think
you can slip it in
before they k*ll you

that you stole
Angel Martin's car,

that Angel Martin don't know
nothing from nothing,

that Angel Martin
is a great guy?

Something else
I just remembered.

I heard Papa Frank
moved up to Carmel.

Which means the kid,
Tommy, is living in the house
in Holmby.

Fine.
He can deliver
a message to Papa.

First thing we got to do
is Mary Jo and you and I
are going to make out a will.

A what?

"Will" as in
Last Will and Testament.

"I, Mary Jo Flynn,
being of sound mind,
do this day set forth,

"that in the event of my death
by any means other
than illness,

"the executor of this document
herein set forth..."

There's one for you too here,
and there's one
for Angel Martin.

I'm sorry,
but this doesn't worry me.

Well, that's because
you haven't bothered
to think it through.

No, you haven't bothered
to think it through.

You d*ed the minute you walked
into this house.

Now, I don't like that.

This whole thing
has been unfortunate.
But you have to take the pipe.

And before you do,
you're gonna let me know
where Martin and the girl are.

See, I swore to my sister,
Barbara, that I'd let no harm
come to her Joey.

How was your buying trip?

Ray, make me a sandwich.

Is it true we've seen
the last of denim?

How is everything
at radio station KLLB?

Mr. Rockford,
the biggest favor you
could do yourself right now

is tell me how
I can put my hands
on your friends.

Do you know what we mean
when we say buckwheats?

Yeah.
A slow b*ating.
Broken bones.

Well, why go through that
before you die?

That's just a lot
of legalese.

What it says simply is that if
Mary Jo, Angel or myself

so much as get
our hair mussed,

our executor will cable
all the major families

and tell them Joey B
never did die and he's got
a mouth that just won't quit.

Big deal.

So we just move Joey
out of Las Brisas

and into some other
hamster cage.

Vic's been working
on it all week.

Well, I hope you find one
as far away as the South Pole,

because anything closer
wouldn't be far enough.

Especially when they find out
Joey B is still
among the living.

We'll take that risk.

We're the better risk.
Three civilians who
know the story.

And we don't care particularly
about spilling it
unless we die.

And then it's just a matter
of time till a limo pulls up
into your drive

and somebody feeds you
buckwheats till you tell them
where Joey is.

Oh, of course,
it may not be you.

Could be your wife
or your kids...

You know where
you are, mister?

Do you know
who you're talking to

that you make threats
and give ultimatums?

I don't care
about your slop.

I'll take my chances.

Now, you're gonna tell me
where Martin and the girl is.

You just don't get it,
do you?

The mechanism is all
ready to go.

If I don't walk out of here
in one hour, the telegrams
start to fly.

Tommy, maybe it's
the best way.

Why me?

I haven't had a peaceful
night's sleep since
this thing started.

It's the will
of God, Tommy.

All for one squirrelly
brother-in-law.

Yeah, that squirrelly
brother-in-law was quite
a guy when he had all...

So what?
Who cares what he was?

I have businesses to run,
I can't do that and look out
for him too.

My sister's living
on barbiturates.

My father's sulking
up in Carmel,

he's plotting against me
because I won't put Joey
out of his misery.

Let me understand something.
It's your father who wants
Joey in the ground?

Why us?

I mean, why is this family
visited with mental illness?

What? We don't do
to mass every Sunday?

We don't donate thousands
to the City of Hope?

Do you remember
what my pop said

when Barbara came home
and said she wanted
to marry Joey?

Oh, yes.

I remember that day.

Know what he said?
"Marry one of your own.

"Don't marry
this Bloomberg."

He knew better than us, Vic.
He knew far, far
better than us.

But I swore
to my sister...

Tommy, listen.
It's time.

Mr. Lorenz?

You're going to have
to make a decision.

All right.

Then we have an understanding?
We have a deal?

Go, Mr. Rockford.

Yeah?

Tommy? There's two guys
out front staking the place.

Hey.

What's the problem?

Stay there.

Sidney, you go with Vic.
Rockford, get into
the music room.

I think you owe us
an explanation.

What the devil
is the meaning of this?
Who's in charge here?

Let me inform you
that we are agents
of the federal government.

By what right
do you pull us off the street
at the point of a g*n?

Huh? Answer me.

National Intelligence Agency?

What is this,
some kind of sick joke?

Don't look at me.
I have nothing
to do with them.

Well, how'd they
find their way here?
A trail of bread crumbs?

They have all kinds
of electric surveillance
devices.

You know, you guys are really
fouling things up.

National Intelligence Agency.
You expect me to believe that?

You'd better believe it, sir.
That identification is valid.

So is my brother-in-law
Joey's.

We keep telling him,
"Joey, that's your
social security card."

He says, "No, no, no.
That's my ID."

He also has a secret hat
he wears every now and then.

He says it sends him radio
transmissions from Russia.

Signals.

You got one of those too?

I don't know what
you're talking about,

but you're on
dangerous ground.

Mr. Lorenz, unfortunately,
they are who they
say they are.

Oh? Well then you
do know them.

Well, no.

Whatever it is
that you're up to, Rockford,
let me tell you one thing,

we've got a complete dossier
on you right now.

We also know about
that circus you pulled over
at the Las Brisas Hospital.

You've got a lot
of questions to answer.

They know about
Las Brisas too?

Not from anything I said.

You said there were three
civilians who knew, right?

I mean, you said
that the information
stops with you, right?

Only now there's five.
Count them, five.

Why did you guys come here?

If he wasn't
one of your agents,
what thr*at did I pose?

Now you see
what I mean, Vic?

You see how this thing
starts to mushroom?
You understand?

I don't want to be
saddled anymore.
Tommy...

So we pop them all.

Today. Now.
End of problem.

Tommy, wait just a minute.
If these guys
are really Feds...

What do you, want to look
ahead to this
for the rest of your life?

You want some guy to tell
another guy and then another
guy tells his Aunt Martha

and on and on and on?

Do you have any idea
of what you're
contemplating doing?

We are the National
Intelligence Agency.

Really? Well, before I blow
his brains out, there are some
things we have to know.

And I'm going
to supervise this myself.

Right?
Right.

Then I wash my hands.

My sister can take
care of her own.

Let's go.

Happy?

Move it over there.

You'll never make it,
believe me.

'Cause dead bodies
have a way of turning up
and causing problems.

Sidney.

Don't do this.
Please.

All right, face down
on the floor. Everybody.
Come on.

I want to know where
Miss Flynn and Angel Martin
are, Rockford.

I wouldn't worry so much
about that as I would...

Eight more minutes,
the hour's going to be up.

The word's going to be
spread all over town.

No, it's not, because
in less than eight minutes,

you're going to make
a phone call to your friends.

You're going to tell them
everything is fine and you'll
be coming home soon.

And if you don't,
you'll get to see firsthand

how fast a fire
can consume a human being.

And I don't think
you're the kind of guy
that can sit that out.

I'm not telling
you anything.

Sidney.

I could be persuaded
to make a phone call.

All right, get up.

Where are they?

In the Peter Pan Motel
down on Olympic,

registered under
assumed names.

Vic, take him to a phone.

You call your friends,
tell them everything is fine,
you'll be coming soon.

Vic, you send a car out there.

Right. This way.

Back in!

The police picked up
the fellow outside.

Rockford, you've got
a lot of explaining to do.

I'm not too worried.

I'm licensed to work
in this country.

You guys are supposed
to be tending the Berlin Wall.

The Agency made a lot
of threatening noises
about this and that,

but they didn't have
anything to back it up.

I've always said this group
needed an infusion
of excitement.

But this has been
something else.

I'm going to be sorry
when your time in this group
is up, James.

Mary Jo,
how do you feel about it?

I'm really glad it's over,
naturally.

And of course, I'm really
happy that my fears were
reality-based for a change.

But it's much more than that.

It was a bad experience.

Really bad.

But I held together.
I made it.

Is this Mary Jo Flynn talking?

I don't think
I've ever heard you
sounding so positive.

It's terrific.

MARY JO:
But there is one other thing.

I'll never be able to tell Jim
how much I appreciate
what he did.

You don't have to.

Mary Jo, you're talking
around it.

Tell the man
how you feel about him.

I like you.

I hope we'll
always be close.

Same here, Mary Jo.

Evelyn, you were
involved in this,

but we've heard
nothing from you.

I got nothing to say
I didn't say when
I first came here.

Come on.

This is a stress situation,

even though you weren't
as deeply involved
as Jim or Mary Jo.

What are you feeling?

I wasn't as deeply involved?
I was into it
up to my eyeballs.

Okay. Then tell us
your emotions.

Learn to be intimate
with people.

I'm just glad that the Agency
didn't find out

about my g*n-running days
because of all this.

I could have been
in big trouble.
I can't say any more.

Don't give in to your fears
of other people

and stop concocting
these phony stories

that evade the real
issues of your life.

I don't have to make up
phony stories.
Didn't you hear what I said?

I said I was glad the Agency
closed the books on us,

otherwise they might have
found out about the time
I was running g*ns

down to the rebels
in Guatemala.

Me and another guy...
Dead now, that's right.

We used to buy these
Italian carbines

from this contact man
in Mexico

and we'd sneak it
across the border
in the ambulance and sell it

to the guerillas in Guatemala.
We'd get twice what we paid
for them.

That's right.

The g*ns were
rickety old things.

They'd blow up in your face
if you sh*t them
or you just sneezed...
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