02x19 - Close Shave

[bunniefuu]

[thudding]

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a bold adventurin' man ♪

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ Battled for right with a powerful hand ♪

♪ His blade was tempered and so was he ♪

♪ Indestructible steel was he

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪

- [Jim] It may be gone now

but once in a peaceful New Orleans courtyard

there was a shrine to Saint Jude.

The Saint who accomplishes the impossible.

How it got there is a story that is anything but peaceful.

It began on a night darker than Satan's soul.

When the best suit of clothes I ever owned

was ruined by a knife hole in the middle the back.

[grunting]

- Jim Bowie's shirt.

Jim Bowie's waistcoat.

Jim Bowie's tie.

Is it any wonder Monsieur,

the constable concluded it was Jim Bowie?

- [sighs] Dan Kimball.

What a horrible way to die.

He'd only just left my hotel.

I'd lent him the best I had of everything.

He was carrying $1,000.



- Who were his enemies?

- Why don't you tell him, Jim?

- Captain, Dan Kimball was not the intended victim.

- No, who was?

You Bowie?

- I found this under my door this morning.

Bowie, search your memory.

You owe a debt long overdue.

I k*lled the wrong man last night.

Today will be another story.

- Unsigned, of course.

This is the first of these you have received?

- No, there was one other from Natchez.

Saying that whoever he was

was on his way to New Orleans to k*ll me.

Very politely phrased.

Well Justy, how about buy me some lunch.

- Oh thank you.

[vocalizing music]

- I grant there are men

who would like to see you humbled Mr. Bowie,

but who, who could want to see you dead?

- Well, the situation has its advantages, Joseph.

The one thing it keeps me on my toes.

- You're not shaking in your boots, Mr. Bowie.

- I'd be.

- Oh, I'm shaking.

Hey.

So is Joseph's hand.

Watch it.

- [Joseph] Oh, good evening, Father.

- Good evening.

Joseph, time and trial have taken care of most of my hair

but what has been spared me,

I should like to have trimmed.

- And would you trust our new barber, Father?

- Is he gifted, Joseph?

- Would I engage him, Father if he weren't?

[laughing]

Leopold, this is Father Manet.

The Lord's personal representative in New Orleans.

- I am profoundly honored, Father.

- I shall expect a masterpiece of tonsorial art.

- Well, I shall try to achieve it.

[laughs]

- There you are, Mr. Bowie.

- Oh, thank you.

- Jim Bowie.

- Evening, Father, how are you?

- Oh, James what can I say

except that my heart aches for your friend Dan Kimball.

- You know where he was going, Father when he was k*lled?

He was on his way to see you.

- No, are you sure James?

- You know that he was on the Memphis Queen

when she blew up yesterday?

- No, I didn't.

- Well, he was.

One of the few survivors.

So he got together $1,000, 100 Dixies.

He wanted to build a new shrine for your churchyard.

- A shrine Mr. Bowie?

From a gambler?

- That's right.

He said it was absolutely impossible.

Thank you.

For him to have survived that expl*si*n.

So the shrine to Saint Jude.

The Saint who accomplishes the impossible.

- God rest Dan Kimball's soul.

- [Jim And Joseph] Oh, good evening Claybourne.

- Good evening, gentlemen.

Filet of sole alla Margaery

for my master's favorite creature.

Did he enjoy the papano?

I was told to ascertain.

- No, but I did.

- You Monsieur Joseph?

- Well, Fielder just hasn't been around, Claybourne.

As a matter of fact I haven't seen him

since the day you arrived.

- Oh, the cat.

I saw him a little while ago, down the street.

- Then, I shall leave my master's offering

in the usual place.

- Allow me, Claybourne.

- Who is his master if I may ask?

- Jean Lafitte, the pirate.

- My master will want a detailed account

of the Fielders gastronomic reactions.

[laughs]

Our congratulations on avoiding the grim reaper, Mr. Bowie.

- Ah thank you, Claybourne.

I give my compliments to the Captain.

- They shall be conveyed.

Good evening, gentleman.

- [All] Good night, Claybourne.

- Oh, Joseph, just about closing time.

- Oh so it is Mr Bowie, 6 o'clock.

- If my anonymous friend is gonna keep his promise,

he'll have to hurry.

- James, I don't like your running around the street

with this m*rder*r at large.

Why don't you come home with me.

Spend the evening if you like.

[laughs]

- That's very kind of you, Father

but what I have in mind is a c*ck at Peychard's.

You ready Joseph?

- Father, your haircut's on the house.

[sighs]

And you owe nothing either, Mr. Bowie.

- Well, you do need a drink Joseph.

- I'm worried about Bowie.

He must be under enormous strain.

- I would think so, Father.

The man who's after him seems determined and resourceful.

There you are.

Now what do you think of that?

- Oh, if the good Lord had put back

what was there originally,

you couldn't have done a better job.

[laughs]

Thank you, Leopold.

- Father.

Would it be all right

for me to attend Mr. Kimball's funeral?

- Funerals for gamblers are usually short on mourners.

We'd welcome your presence.

Good night, it was nice meeting you.

- Night.

- Please thank Joseph for the haircut.

Evening, Mr. Tebbs.

- Evening, Father.

I'm Justinian Tebbs.

I was supposed to meet Jim Bowie here

and I'm a little late.

- Well, Mr. Bowie is at Peychard's.

- Oh, thank you.

- Uh, just a moment.

I'll join you.

[speaking in foreign language]

- Why thank you, Peychard.

- I'm sorry to be late, Jim.

You've never seen such confusion in your life.

The police are going around in circles.

A lot of heads are gonna roll

if they don't get some results.

- Hmm.

- Ah, life begins at Peychard's pharmacy.

- But we never know where it'll end.

Do we Mr. Bowie?

- Oh, that's what makes life kind of exciting.

Here, have you tried one?

- Oh.

Delicious.

What's in it?

- Cognac, a little sugar.

The secret lies in Peychard's aromatic bitters.

- Peychard, when they write the history books of New Orleans

you will be in all of them.

The inventor of the c*ck.

[speaking in foreign language]

- Leopold, have we met somewhere before?

- Possibly, the world's a small place.

But I never forget a face I shave, Mr. Bowie.

[laughs]

- Well, even the best of memories fail sometimes.

Hey, which reminds me Justy.

Drink up, we've got to pick out a coffin for Dan.

- Oh dear, I just hope I survive the funeral.

[sighs]

- Captain Lafitte's friend is still to be fed.

- Oh, thank you, Leopold.

- Uh, nice meeting you, Mr. Tebbs.

You watch yourself, Mr. Bowie.

- I'll see you tomorrow, Leopold.

[vocalizing music]

[cat meows]

- Come, kitty.

Come, come, nice Fielding.

[metal jingling]

[scratching on paper]

I was close to you today, Mr. Bowie.

So close I could have k*lled you

but I'm enjoying the suspense.

Tomorrow will serve my purpose.

[cat meows]

Well, bless your heart.

Come in.

Come.

There are surprises in store for you, my friend.

Come kitty, kitty kitty.

Come, nice Fielding.

Come, nice Fielding.

Kit kit.

[fingers snapping]

The last supper.

Come and enjoy it, Fielding.

Come, come, come.

[metal clangs]

Oh.

You startled me.

- Having any luck, Leopold?

- Oh, we had a moment of silent communion

but he wouldn't come in closer than the window.

- Oh well put it on the floor.

He can come in during the night, if he gets hungry.

Oh isn't that your razor on the chair?

- Oh, yes.

I thought I'd put an edge on it before I went home.

- Oh, leave it till the morning.

You're too conscientious, Leopold.

- A man of limited objectives, actually.

But I always carry through.

- [Joseph] Come on, I'll walk a pace with you.

- Uh, oh that's fine.

I've got to deliver a letter.

[vocalizing music]

- Hello, Mr. Tebbs.

- Mr. Asbury.

- You working on the Jim Bowie story?

- Mm-hmm.

- I've written many a m*rder story in my day.

- I'm sure you have.

- I remember one back in Philadelphia once that--

- I'm sure you've had some

interesting experiences, Mr. Asbury.

- All I do now is read out-of-town newspapers.

Every now and then you come across something interesting.

- Please, Mr. Asbury, later.

We'll have a drink and talk it all over then.

- Like this piece in the Louisville Public Advertiser.

It seems a barber escaped

from the prison in Frankfort, Kentucky.

- A barber?

- Mm.

Come from Jim Bowie's home county, too.

Wanted for m*rder and robbery.

His father before him was in the same jail.

Died there.

- Mr. Asbury, I want to thank you for interrupting me.

- It was probably nothing, Mr. Tebbs.

I was in Florida once myself.

You think I've given you a lead on something?

- We'll see.

What time is it?



[coughs]

I've got kind of a tough beard, Leopold.

- Well, I have a sharp razor, Mr. Bowie.

Oh [laughs].

You'd be more comfortable without this.

[metal clacking]

- You know, it's funny how the thought persists

that we've we've met somewhere before.

- Hm, recollection usually comes in a flash.

I've had it happen many times.

You like a close shave?

- No, no, not too close.

Just be careful around here will you?

Around my throat?

- I'll be most careful there, Mr. Bowie.

Still can't seem to place me, huh?

Maybe a case of mistaken identity

like Dan Kimball.

- Well, maybe.

- Kimball looked real natural, I thought,

lying there in his coffin.

- Poor Dan, at least he died with his boots on.

I hope I'll go the same way.

- I have a feeling that you will, Mr. Bowie.

You don't often get back to Kentucky?

- No, no, I don't, not as often as I'd like.

- Pretty country.

I'll never forget my own boyhood there.

- Oh, you're from Kentucky?

- Logan County.

- Oh, wow, maybe that's where I remember you from.

- Oh, now we never thought of that did we?

[laughs]

No, sir.

We've just been searching grown-up days.

Now maybe I can jog your memory.

[rattling metal]

[knocking]

- Oh the door's locked.

Why is that?

- Joseph's orders.

With the m*rder*r at large and just the two of us here

he felt it safer.

Come in, constable, sit down.

You're next.

- I wish I could sit down.

No rest even for the god-fearing these days.

- Hello, Marcel, how are you?

- Well, if it isn't Jim Bowie.

[laughs]

Let me look at you, Bowie.

- Huh.

- Yes, I can understand it.

The man who wants you out of the way

must be a lover of beauty, who hates ugly faces.

[laughs]

- Well, you better watch out, Marcel.

He'll be after you, too.

What are you doing here?

- Efficient.

All of a sudden, we must be efficient.

Now, it's new posters for every bulletin board in town.

Even for out-of-state criminals.

Something new they've thought up.



I must put up 50 in one day or suffer a reprimand.

- We better get on with it, Mr. Bowie.

- Monsieur, I don't think I remember you.

- Leopold Vaupel.

- New here?

- Three days.

- Marcel, will you go and tack up your posters?

This fellas trying to give me a shave.

- All right.

And I'll go find the man who's trying to k*ll you.

[laughing]

- Do that, will ya?

- Joseph's right.

If he's an example,

the police are not very sharp.

- How's that?

- Why, he didn't even read the poster.

You read it.

- [Jim] Wanted, Lawrence Vale.

- Same initials as mine.

L-V.

Leopold Vaupel.

- I used to know some Vales once.

Logan County it was.

That's right, they had the farm next to ours, if I recall.

The boy was sent to--

Sent to prison.

His name was Larry.

Lawrence.

- Don't move Mr. Bowie, don't move a muscle.

I learned the barber trade in prison.

Been a long time hadn't it, Jim.

You didn't like the way I turpentined your cat.

Beat me up for it, didn't ya?

Huh?

- Larry, it was more than 20 years ago.

We were just children.

- Yeah, but my pa got into it

and your pa did too.

- My father had nothing to do

with your father stealing horses.

- My pa died in prison

and your pa put him there

and you're gonna pay.

And after you, your brother Rezin.

- Rezin had nothing to do with our fight.

- Your brother's a bully.

Go on, beg for mercy.

I want to hear a bully beg.

[door clattering]

Come in, Mr. Tebbs and lock the door.

- And the word is out on you Vale.

I warn you--

- I said lock the door.

Drop the blinds and close those shutters.

- Go on, do it.

- Let's see.

I've got to k*ll you both.

- Vale, if it's the last thing I ever do--

- It will be, Tebbs.

The only reason I'm delaying is

that I want to hear Jim Bowie beg.

- You, you want to hear me say I'm sorry?

Is that it, Larry?

- I want to hear you cry and wimper

the way I did when you held my face

in the dirt all those years ago.

[cat meowing]

[metal and wood clattering]

- Oh.

[banging]

[metal clanks]

- Just like old times, Larry.

Looks like we're gonna have another little scrap.

- It's gonna be different this time, Bowie.

[laughs]

You won't be laughing much longer.

- How could you carry so much hate all these years, Larry?

[metal clattering]

[heavy breathing]

Make a blow with that.

[whimpering]

- Beg, Bowie, beg.

- Would that make you feel up a real, big man, Larry?

I'll tell you something

you're still nothing but a mean, nasty kid.

- Those will be your last words.

[cat screeching]

- Ah, ah, ah.

[banging]

- Ah.

- You all right, Justy?

- Oh yeah, I am fine, I think.

How are you?

- Oh man, that was a real close shave.

You better go get the police.

[cat meows]

- Hey, hey, that money.

That must be Dan Kimball's money.

- Yeah, look at this.

Excuse me, Fielder.

You know, that just goes to prove one thing.

In the long run you always get what you give.

When I first did battle with him

more than 20 years ago,

I saved a cat's life.

Looks like cat saved mine this time.

When you come to write this story,

be sure to give Fielder the credit, will ya?

- Right.

[vocalizing music]

- In memory of Dan Kimball,

we his friends dedicate this shrine to St. Jude.

For surely through his intercession,

the impossible was accomplished

and a wrongdoer brought to justice.

Well, I guess there's nothing more need be said, gentlemen.

[cat meowing]

- Well, Dogma.

Look who's joined the party.

[laughing]

Come along, Fielder.

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪