Remington Steele (1982) s02e11 Episode Script
Steele Threads
##[Background: Upbeat.]
Everyone in this building- all of New York, all of Paris- is trying to steal my designs.
Stop that man! - Voilà.
- The guy was a spy.
Your job is to find the film.
My job is to find the murderer.
The film's worth bubkes.
It's the blazer he wants.
- The blazer.
- Not a chance, Karl.
[People Chattering.]
- Al Grossman called again.
- [Dings.]
He's sending Solly over to collect on that three-year loan.
What's with Grossman? Call him back.
Tell him I've been meaning to surprise him.
Money would surprise him.
You got it, Mitzi.
A few alterations to the checking account- a nip here, a tuck there in the deposit and the withdrawal slips- and before the computer digests its mistake our money will be there to cover.
- What money, Bulletz? - From our new summer line, Mitzi.
Mitzi, I got a feeling we're gonna have the greatest season yet.
- [Door Opens, Bell Rings.]
- Mm! I love days like this.
Oh! My good man.
And what can a humble tailor do for you? - Bulletz Bloustein? - Formerly Prince of Pleats.
Yeah.
Well, uh a friend of mine told me you could make me a coat.
Just one of our many services.
- May I show you a fine rayon tweed- - Uh, no, no.
No.
- [Unzips Bag.]
- If you don't mind, I'd like you to use this.
Burlap mufflers? Uh, blazer, 42 Long.
I, uh- I need it by noon tomorrow.
It's a birthday present for my father.
I don't know.
Twenty-four hours is not enough time- But who am I to disappoint a customer? Name and address.
Prine.
Mark Prine.
Okay.
Until tomorrow then.
You won't be disappointed.
Thank you.
Lila? Lila? That you, babe? - [Door Opens.]
- The claim check- let's have it.
- What? - The claim check for the coat.
How do you know about the coat? - What difference does it make? - Did Lila tell you? She said you'd be a good sport.
Don't disappoint me.
[Yells.]
[Grunts.]
##[Background: Upbeat.]
[Audience Applauding.]
- [People Whistling.]
- [Applauding Continues.]
[Whistling, Applauding Continue.]
They should put battle ribbons in our pay envelopes.
- Your first major? - Not exactly, but it may be my last.
##[Continues, Muffled.]
[Affected Accent.]
Oh! Wonderful texture.
Beautiful sheen.
So sleek.
So- So touchable.
- Watch it, buster.
- Easy, honey.
The buyer's always right.
Just testing your material, love.
After all, if I'm gonna buy, I have to know what I'm buying, don't I? - This is what you're buying.
- And you're buying a short career.
Oh, ladies, ladies! Lovely ladies! If it were up to me, I'd take you all back to Birmingham and introduce you to the Queen Mum herself.
- Oh! [Kisses.]
- Oh, you chaps from England.
You're all so friendly.
Sam St.
Cloud, my dear lady.
Marks & Spencer.
- Do look me up the next time you're on the isle.
- [Slap.]
- Oh, sure.
- Yes? - You're not forgetting me, are you? - Do I sense the room has warmed? Spare me the pranks.
It's enough that I have to slither through that meat line out there.
- Ah, duty first, Laura.
- It's demeaning.
It's degrading.
Yes, indeed.
I'm sure it is.
Eyes front, St.
Cloud.
- Are you two on top of things? - Oh, rest assured, Mr.
Baron.
I have personally checked the credentials of every buyer here.
- Miss Holt has also done the same with the models.
- But that's not enough.
Even as we speak, everyone in this building- all of New York, all of Paris- is trying to steal my designs.
I am sure that Halston has tried to bribe my sketch artists.
I am convinced that Blass sends flowers to my cleaning lady.
And I am positive that Valentin- Valentino has tried to hide hidden cameras in this theater.
Mr.
Baron, your worries are over.
- The Steele Agency is known for its competence, - Mm-hmm.
- its class, and- - Mm-hmm.
Stop that man! [People Chattering.]
- ##[Continues.]
- Big buyer from New York.
Unlimited credit.
- [Chattering.]
- Oh! Take him.
- Excuse me.
Sorry.
- [Chattering.]
Mind your back.
Mind your backs.
[Yelling, Chattering.]
Sorry.
Sorry.
What? No.
I got- I got- - Mitzi, stow it.
- You want it double-stitched? [Bell Rings.]
[Bell Rings.]
Yes, young man.
Can I help you? Prine, Prine.
With the turtle shell.
Right.
- He asked me to pick it up for him.
- He did? Does that, uh, present a problem? No.
That's no problem.
That's a pleasure.
- It's the gabardine twill with the elbows with the patches.
- Yeah, right.
Yeah.
Have I got a coat for you.
What's Mr.
Prine gonna say when he finds out he's got the wrong coat? Mitzi, work with me.
There's a man out there that wants somethin' does not belong to him.
That's what I love about you, Bulletz- always thinkin' of the other fella.
Huh? Huh? What do you think? Huh? Quality like that you wouldn't even find on Rodeo Drive.
- You! - Me? - Him.
- Me? - You.
- I'll just, uh- Wise decision.
Remington Steele, Mr.
Bloustein, of Remington Steele Investigations.
A gumshoe? He hired a gumshoe? Given the circumstances, I'd say the decision was warranted, wouldn't you? All right.
All right.
He wins.
[Chuckles.]
He always wins.
Okay.
Take it and go.
Thank you.
I'm sure Mr.
Baron will be very grateful.
Grateful? [Laughing.]
Julian wouldn't know grateful if it jumped up and kicked him where he sits.
[Scoffing Laugh.]
Ah! Pleats.
Pleats, Mr.
Steele.
Twenty-five years ago, this was my calling card.
The original design was Baron's but the hope, the vision, the dream- that was mine.
That filcher stole my dream the day he walked off with the designs- designs that I paid for, sent him to school for wiped his nose for! And now he begrudges me a lousy roll of film? [Mock Spit.]
One gets the distinct impression there's more between you and Mr.
Baron than mere, uh, acquaintances.
Bite your tongue, Mr.
Steele! We were brothers.
Nothing more.
Brothers.
Notice the subtle symmetry the artist's skillful use of subterfuge.
[Sniffs.]
The elusive mystery of unexposed film.
Mr.
Baron, Mr.
Periot I'm sure that there's a logical explanation here somewhere.
Explanation? [Scoffs.]
Let's face it.
Mr.
Steele has been shnorered.
Shnorered? Is that a technical term? Oh.
Finagled.
To rob Peter but not quite pay Paul.
The simple truth is the man did, um, shnorer me.
He gave me a cock-and-bull story about Mr.
Baron being his long-lost brother.
Well, he is my brother.
That's what worries me.
By tomorrow morning, 600 illegal aliens, slaving by candlelight will have converted my $7,000 originals into $7 rags.
The women in Beverly Hills to whom I sell will be viewing my greatest collection on the backs of their hired help.
Julian.
Don't upset yourself.
[Inhales, Exhales.]
You see, in the world of fashion, word travels fast- word of success, word of failure.
I would just hate to think what the other potential clients in the Mart would say if the Remington Steele Agency failed to retrieve that film.
Your meaning cuts me to the quick, Mr.
Periot.
I hope so, Mr.
Steele.
I hope so.
Gossip can be so destructive.
All right, Bloustein! Front and center! Mr.
Steele, is that you? - What happened? - He hit me from behind.
That's what happened.
Very convincing, Bloustein, but we're not leaving without the film- every last roll of it.
- Where is it? - In the plaid garment bag.
Mitzi sewed it in the lining of the blazer for safekeeping.
Empty.
Thieves! Ganefs.
! They stole my season.
If this is another one of your tap dances, Mr.
Bloustein- Miss Holt, you know me for almost an hour.
You still don't trust me? Hardly the home of a man who traffics in high fashion espionage, is it? [Rhythmical Knocking.]
- I'll check the bedroom.
- Blazer, 42 Long.
- Right.
- I'll check the kitchen.
Mr.
Prine left his I.
D.
at home.
Apparently he works for a company called Overdyne, whoever they are.
- The moon.
- The "Old Devil" one? Overdyne helped get us there.
They're very big in high tech.
Hmm.
It leads one to wonder what the bytes and ROMs have to do with the latest hemlines, doesn't it? Have a look at this.
Perhaps Lila can tell us.
Well, "Leela," yes.
Thought all us English chaps were so friendly.
The line to the hemlines grows clearer.
And who better than a model to infiltrate a showroom? I speak from bitter experience.
Finding everything we need, are we, Bulletz? Not very pretty.
Excuse me.
Oh.
[Murmurs.]
Ooh.
[Clears Throat.]
"Mark Warren Prine.
" Damn it! [Exhales.]
Skull fracture.
- Crude but effective.
- Here.
Then who's the other guy? Some shtarker comes to me with the Prine kid's claim check.
Mitzi hadjust sewn the film in the lining.
- So naturally, I couldn't give him the right coat.
- Naturally.
- But he returns.
- Bops me on the noggin, runs off with the blazer.
How did he know the film is in the lining? Unless we're dealing with something more than Julian Baron's latest creations.
Couldn't be the blazer.
The material was lousy.
It's a good guess that whoever stole that blazer also stuffed Mr.
Prine in the icebox.
And he's expecting no one to find him, so, for now, we'll close the door and- Return to the world of sequins and feathers.
- 7:30 tomorrow sharp, hmm? - [Models Groaning.]
Do you think we can get a little sleep tonight? - This means you, Francesca.
- [Models Laughing.]
[Models Chattering.]
Funny.
I thought the streets in L.
A.
would be paved with rich men.
- Must be time for a repaving.
- [Laughing.]
Of course, there is that English buyer- St.
Clod or Cloud.
- Sam.
Sam from Birmingham.
- Yeah.
A lot of bucks to press out of that suit.
- How'd you do? - Oh, mezzo-mezzo.
What about you? Anybody special? I'm what they call a player, honey.
Long relationships cramp my style.
Oh, there is a guy.
Treats me pretty good, but- It's not goin' anywhere.
He's a $28,000-a-year man with a outside shot at 30.
- [Clicks Tongue.]
- That doesn't sound so bad.
[Sighs.]
At your age, nothin' sounds bad.
You got time.
You get hurt, you got time to recover time to move on.
At my age, you run out of time.
So, when luck smiles and the brass ring just happens to come up a second time you gotta grab it and hold on to it with everything you've got.
- [Phone Rings.]
- That's for me! I'll get it! - I gotta run.
- I'll see you soon? I don't know.
If I don't, remember what I said, huh? [Ringing Continues.]
Hello? Taxi.
Taxi! - Where's Mr.
Steele? - He went up to look forJulian.
Perfect.
Follow that cab.
I love that kind of talk.
Me, Julian Baron, a murderer? You must be out of your mind, Mr.
Steele.
It is your memo paper.
Yes, of course it's my memo paper.
But you don't recall the handwriting.
Is that correct? My door is open to every Tom, Dick and Murray who traipses into the Mart.
Any one of them could have scribbled that note.
Mr.
Baron, a man was murdered.
If my client was involved, I have a right to know.
Bulletz put you up to this.
Hmm.
Why would Mr.
Bloustein do something like that? Because he hates me.
That's why.
That two brothers should have a falling-out simply because one of them was a trifle, uh, ungrateful hardly seems to be- Ungrateful? Is that what he told you? Oh, yes, and I'm sure he told you how he put me through school too.
Well, I paid him back five times over for that.
Churned out my designs gratis, only to watch him sabotage my reputation by using the cheapest fabrics available shortcut after shortcut seamstresses who couldn't sew straight.
I gave him custody of a world-class talent and he tried to ruin me.
So now Bulletz shnorers on Santee Street while his younger brother creates two blocks away.
Hmm? What happens between my brother and me, Mr.
Steele, is just that.
Your job is to find the film.
My job is to find the murderer.
Circle the block, and then let's park.
[Sighs.]
This time it'd better be the right jacket, or Mark's gonna catch up with me.
Ah, don't worry about Mark.
- What are we lookin'for? - I'll let you know when I find it.
- Didn't your client tell you? - Don't worry about my client.
That's not your territory.
Aha.
Voilà.
Mark must have been taking pictures at Overdyne.
- Naughty pictures.
- The guy was a spy.
The least we know about what's on this film the happier you and I will both be.
[Laura.]
There goes Lila.
Uh.
Where do you think you're going? Just think of me as your muscle, Miss Holt.
Following people in a limousine- you do very well.
But at 110 pounds, Sam Spade you're not.
[Laughing.]
It's a sweet thought, Bulletz.
But, trust me, stay.
- Pretty lady.
- Oh, hello.
A friend of mine from the Mart- Lila- she sent me over.
She said to ask for, um- - Karl? - Karl, yes.
Yes, that's it.
- Do you know where I might find him? - You're lookin' at him.
Oh.
Hello.
You're your own best advertisement there.
- And you're, uh- - Um, Laura Holt.
Yeah.
Um, uh, selenium yeast? I always seem to get a rise out of that.
- [Both Chuckling.]
- A can or a box? Um, perhaps a case.
A case of yeast.
It's your body, baby.
[Door Closes.]
You know, I think that soy protein isolate would be just the ticket for me.
- Ticket to what? - I'll take a case.
[Door Closes.]
You can't make the wheat germ smoothies without the wheat germ.
- A case.
- Make it two.
[Engine Starts.]
I swear to you, Mr.
Steele.
The last time I saw that film Mitzi was sewing it into the lining of this coat.
Well, if we don't have it, and you don't have it- - And young Mr.
Prine doesn't have it- - Then who has it? - [Exhales.]
- [Laura, Steele.]
They do.
The film's worth bubkes! It's the blazer he wants.
[Sighs.]
It's right over here.
Just a second.
Oh! [Exhales.]
It's gone! Oh! Your friend- she's the only one that was near it.
- Friend? What friend? - Uh, good-lookin' brunette.
Health nut.
Said she knew you from the Mart.
Laurie.
No.
Laura.
Laura Holt.
Friend, my toe.
She's been pumping me for information.
Well, she's gonna need all the health food she can get.
- [Steele.]
Deeply, Laura.
- [Inhales.]
- [Exhales.]
- From the heart.
You're very good at this, you know.
Comes naturally with the right person.
You know if Lila has done something desperate, I'd almost understand it.
That meat line atJulian's would drive any woman to distraction.
From sore feet? - Sore hearts, sore souls.
- Oh.
A man is seen as many things- doer, thinker.
A woman? Bottom line- [Moans.]
flesh.
[Sighs.]
Nobody told you what to be when you grew up.
You're a man.
You smoke cigars.
Oh.
They used to come by the office in droves.
"Steal away with me, Laura.
" "How's Palm Springs sound, Laura?" [Sighs.]
But handle a case? "Better let Mr.
Steele handle that, Laura.
" But you didn't, did you? Thank the Lord.
Or we'd both be scrounging for the rent.
No one's ever gonna treat you as just flesh.
Flesh? Yes.
But never just flesh.
- [Footsteps Approaching.]
- [Bulletz.]
I took a chance, Miss Holt.
Uh, the caviar was goin' bad.
Oh, I see.
Well, to the conqueror goes the spoils, eh? - [Chuckling.]
Same to you, Mr.
Steele.
- Yes.
- [Exhales.]
- [Sighs.]
Yes.
Why can't I find the courage to tell that little man about his brother? Because you'd like to see them back together again.
Laura.
Makes me sound like a sentimental fool.
Never.
Well, I guess I owe him the truth whatever that leads to.
- [People Laughing.]
- [Clears Throat.]
[TV: Laughing Continues.]
[Tapping Continues.]
- Problem? - Not enough color.
The Honeymooners wasn't made in color.
- Remember? - [Laughing.]
Happens to be the only show I never tire of.
Americana around the kitchen table- Jackie Gleason roaring, amiable Art Carney.
- Ah.
My Miriam- she was so partial to Carney.
- Mm-hmm? Something in his eyes, I think.
- You were married? - Thirty-one years.
[Exhales.]
God rest her.
You-You ever lose anybody, Mr.
Steele? Mm.
Once.
- A long time ago.
- I thought so.
- Your eyes tell more than you know.
- [Exhales.]
You've lost someone twice though, Bulletz.
Lost? Save your sympathy.
There was a time when I could've connected with Julian Baron again.
- Oh? - In the beginning Francois came to me with a proposition.
If I stopped calling him a slimy momzer- at least in front ofJulian- I had a job for life.
- I gather you refused.
- The Prince of Pleats pressing fabric for that bum Periot? I told him as much.
Oh, boy, did I tell him.
- He broke you, didn't he? - [Laughs.]
Yes.
Cut 90% of myJersey business.
In New York, the reps wouldn't even speak to me.
Miami dried up.
Chicago- [Low Whistle.]
- Did you talk to your brother? - Don't you think I was entitled to the first call? You know- You know, Bulletz whatever's wrong between you I mean, Julian Bloustein is still your brother.
Surely there must be some common ground.
If there is, Stanley and Livingstone couldn't find it.
All right.
All right.
Damn it, Francois! It was your handwriting.
What does that prove? That I tried to send your brother a little business.
A little business? A little business! A man was killed over that business.
Didn't you know that? Didn't you? [Scoffs.]
Oh.
Julian.
- Do I kill? - I don't know everything about you.
You want to know everything? [Clicks Tongue.]
Who raised the money for the next season? '77- the tailored look that nobody wanted.
Again, we recovered.
Did you ever ask how? Did you ever give it a thought? And the houses- a fortune in houses.
The villa in Marrakech.
The chalet in Saint Moritz that you just had to have! Oh.
"Francois, take care of the details.
Don't bother me with your problems.
" I trusted you! Well, Julian.
You still want the problems to go away don't you? [Shudders.]
I found her- the hat heading in our direction.
Uh, Holt, wasn't it? Oh, what a marvelous surprise.
Mmm! [Kisses, Laughing.]
- Lila just made you.
- Ah.
The hunk that's with her? That's Karl.
- [Blows.]
- Hunk? Hulk.
Bulletz gave him the first jacket.
- The young one- that's trouble.
- No problem.
He's a buyer.
Buyer, huh? That's Remington Steele.
- Karl's mine.
- He's big.
I'll duck.
Steele's yours.
She's mine.
Well, what an unexpected surprise.
- Fate.
- At least.
- Busy tonight? - Funny you should ask.
Yeah, no.
Sure.
No, book me.
I'd love to.
No, who's on makeup? I'll be there.
10:00.
Sam? - Sam from Birmingham.
- [Affected Accent.]
Ah, yes! Let me guess.
Let me guess.
Don't tell me.
- Lila.
Lila Colbert.
We met atJulian's.
- Ah, yes.
[Chuckles.]
Bernie Federman.
[Kiss.]
Chicago Emporium.
Perhaps you would care to join us this evening? [Laughing.]
Oh, you guys from Chicago.
You're all so friendly.
Bernie Federman.
Bernie Federman.
- ##[Piano: Lounge.]
- So, Sam, your own line of dresses.
- How exciting.
- You should have seen us 30 years ago.
Pleats.
What we did with pleats.
Yes, who could forget them? Tell me, Leela what would you say to a management position in my new enterprise, eh? Not just another model on the line, mind you but the model- above the line.
- Time off your feet.
- [Moaning.]
- People working for you.
- Oh, where do I sign? - Another bottle of wine, sir? - Champagne, my good man.
Rothschild, if you got 'im.
'32 is the year I remember.
- Oh! Champagne! I don't believe it.
- Excuse me, Leela.
[Whispering.]
Your memory just cost me $600, old boy.
[Clears Throat.]
- Isn't he great? - Yes, yes.
Dining with Bernie is always such an unexpected pleasure.
So, about this job.
Where do I sign? Well, Leela, as it happens, you already have.
Oh! I don't think I understand.
[Clears Throat.]
[Drops Accent.]
I'm not sure who you're working for, Lila but you may be in deeper than you think.
At the moment, the authorities will show some leniency.
Leniency? For what? Why not start with Mark Prine's murder then work our way back from there, eh? Mark? Murdered? You're lying.
You're just trying to shake me.
Believe me, Lila.
Then perhaps I'll be able to believe you.
##[Background: LightJazz.]
Oh.
A little dancing, a little takeout, a couple of cold ones.
What more could you ask for? Oh, some ice, if you have some.
- For your beer? - Oh, well, you know how it is.
Family tradition.
[Laughs.]
- Oh.
- [Sighs.]
Uh-huh.
[Clicks Tongue.]
[Clicks Tongue.]
[Laughing.]
Oh, thank you very much.
Oh.
Uh- Excuse- I'm sorry.
Um, the bathroom's right over there.
Thank you.
[Chuckles.]
Oh.
[Both Laughing.]
I really don't know whether I wanna go through with this.
What am I gonna say to Mark if he walks in on us? If Mark Prine walks anywhere, medical science will rewrite itself from the top.
- Go on, Miss Colbert.
Open it.
Go on.
- What? Oh.
[Whimpering, Gasps.]
[Laughing.]
Is that what you guys dragged me over here to see? A pot roast? Slice it.
I saw him too, Mr.
Steele.
[Chuckles.]
[Cocks Trigger.]
The blazer.
It was never the film.
All this time, it was the jacket everybody wanted.
No more talk.
I want that blazer.
Now.
Not a chance, Karl.
[Gunshots.]
[Crying.]
There's so many things I wanted to tell you.
So many things I should've told you.
I'm sorry.
Oh, come here.
Come.
Come, baby.
Oh, baby.
[Sobbing.]
- Oh, babe.
- [Sighs.]
I hate to interrupt while I'm ahead.
Laura? Laura? - Oh, babe! [Laughing.]
- [Gasping.]
Oh! Oh! Wait a minute.
Listen.
I think it's beginning to make sense.
Nothing makes any sense but the fact that you're alive and well and- - [Muffled Sighs.]
- Laura, why are you alive and well? Huh? - This blazer, Mr.
Steele.
- Yeah? - It's steel.
- What? - This is some fabric.
- Miss Holt, are you okay? Karl and Lila didn't want to getJulian's film.
This jacket-They wanted the jacket all the time.
That's what Mark was killed for.
- Uh, you mean, bulletproof? - Exactly.
Top-of-the-line, yet light and stylish.
And I think I know just the man who can tell us all about it.
Oh.
Oh, quite a lady.
Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, eh? Hmm.
Yes.
[Beeping.]
I'm amazed the F.
B.
I.
isn't beating down your door.
Classified fabric? Silicone-conductive Kimlar.
One of the top body armors in the world today.
Not only lighter than plastic it has a flex strength greater than forged steel.
- Stronger than steel? - Oh, Milton and I always did see eye-to-eye.
Would anyone kill for this? Your franchise, not mine.
But what you do have here is a special mutation - something the Russians would give up vodka to get.
- [Laughs.]
We are talking superconductor metal virtually free of all resistance.
You get the formula from this sample make enough for an airplane skin- the plane could absorb any free currents in the skies.
Now, wait a minute, Milton.
You're saying that a radar beam like this striking the Kimlar skin, would be gobbled up rather than bounce back to its source? Not only gobbled up, Binkie.
Converted.
- [Mouthing.]
Binkie? - And returned with a bang.
Pow! Binkie? You have your secrets.
I have mine.
I'm afraid someone else has got theirs.
Milton, old chap, that was most enlightening.
- Thank you very much.
- Oh, anytime.
- Thank you, Milton.
- Ah.
Russians, F.
B.
I.
Whoever we're after, they're in big, big trouble.
- Bulletz, old mate, sit down for a second.
- Hmm? There's no easy way to tell you this.
We found this on Mark's body.
The blazer, Bulletz.
Whoever hired Mark to steal the Kimlar must have pointed him in your direction.
Julian.
Ajacket's a very clever way of getting the fabric out of the country.
I took the liberty of observing your brother's jacket size- 42 Long, I'm afraid.
Afraid? [Scoffs.]
Let's fit him for a matching noose.
- What- - I thought we were partners.
I want my share of the money.
Without the blazer- what money? - Stop it.
- Watch it! Look, it's my bus ticket, all right? - [Whimpering.]
- You owe me.
Mark is dead, isn't he? I hired you to steal a claim check and you killed him.
Oh, we've got more than one death to worry about and I'm gettin' out if I have to sell you to the cops to do it.
Going someplace, Karl? Duck! - You okay? - Yeah.
How about you? - You okay? - Yeah.
How about you? Oh, great.
[Exhales.]
- Oh.
Mr.
Periot.
- Perhaps you'd do me the kindness of an explanation.
- If you'll just step- - No, no, no, no.
I mean, a hysterical model, a thug on the showroom floor.
- In a few moments.
- No, no, no.
Now.
Mr.
Steele.
It's rather late to be calling, isn't it? Bulletz, what are you doing here? As the adage goes, better late than never, eh? Shmuts.
! Nitwit! You got two minutes.
Run.
- Run? - It wasn't enough to sell overpriced dresses.
You had to sell state secrets.
I knew it would come to this with your fancy clothes and your fancy friends.
Stay Baron.
What you have done to the name Bloustein- - Oh, Bulletz.
Help me.
- I just did help you.
I betrayed the best of men.
So forget your top secret, Mr.
42 Long, and run.
When was I a 42 Long? - 40 Regular.
- Has it been so long, Bulletz? Then-Then who's the 42 Long? - [Crying.]
- Julian.
Julian.
This time, I'll do more than hide your car keys.
This time, I'll find the dirtiest prison in this country and you will call it home.
Francois.
Yes.
Oy, gevalt.
! Oh.
Wake up, Mr.
Steele.
It was only taffeta.
What a perfect cover.
- Hmm? - Your job.
Respected international businessman traveling to all the fashion centers of the world- Paris, Milan, Hong Kong- for fabrics.
My employers are very demanding.
I thought you were self-employed.
We all have to report to someone, Miss Holt.
You set Mark up with Lila.
Women's work- softening him up.
May I have the blazer, please? Would a man really as elegant as you carry a gun in that pocket? It might ruin the drape of the jacket.
[Screams.]
[Yells.]
Bulletz! Bulletz! - Stay with him.
Stay with him.
- But- Laura, wait! [Alarm Ringing.]
Julian's dresses look terrific but I can't find that slender brunette with the knockout legs.
You mean I missed my chance at a Vogue cover? - Afraid so.
- Oh, good.
- Ah.
Hmm.
- [Knocking.]
- Enter.
Ah.
Welcome, gentlemen.
- Oh.
- [Chuckles.]
Hello.
- Hi.
[Clears Throat.]
From the brothers Bloustein.
Oh.
Bulletz, I'm so touched.
Thank you.
- An original, Mr.
Steele.
- Oh, thank you.
But with a touch of tradition.
Really? Oh, dear.
What can it be, eh? Oh.
Twenty-five years, I imagine, eh? [Both Chuckling.]
[Chuckles, Clears Throat.]
Here we go.
- Oh! - Saves the wrapping paper.
Oh.
Pleated muffler? - My inspiration.
- My creation.
- My idea.
- Oh.
You English chaps, you're all so friendly.
[Muffled Yelp.]
[Mews.]
Everyone in this building- all of New York, all of Paris- is trying to steal my designs.
Stop that man! - Voilà.
- The guy was a spy.
Your job is to find the film.
My job is to find the murderer.
The film's worth bubkes.
It's the blazer he wants.
- The blazer.
- Not a chance, Karl.
[People Chattering.]
- Al Grossman called again.
- [Dings.]
He's sending Solly over to collect on that three-year loan.
What's with Grossman? Call him back.
Tell him I've been meaning to surprise him.
Money would surprise him.
You got it, Mitzi.
A few alterations to the checking account- a nip here, a tuck there in the deposit and the withdrawal slips- and before the computer digests its mistake our money will be there to cover.
- What money, Bulletz? - From our new summer line, Mitzi.
Mitzi, I got a feeling we're gonna have the greatest season yet.
- [Door Opens, Bell Rings.]
- Mm! I love days like this.
Oh! My good man.
And what can a humble tailor do for you? - Bulletz Bloustein? - Formerly Prince of Pleats.
Yeah.
Well, uh a friend of mine told me you could make me a coat.
Just one of our many services.
- May I show you a fine rayon tweed- - Uh, no, no.
No.
- [Unzips Bag.]
- If you don't mind, I'd like you to use this.
Burlap mufflers? Uh, blazer, 42 Long.
I, uh- I need it by noon tomorrow.
It's a birthday present for my father.
I don't know.
Twenty-four hours is not enough time- But who am I to disappoint a customer? Name and address.
Prine.
Mark Prine.
Okay.
Until tomorrow then.
You won't be disappointed.
Thank you.
Lila? Lila? That you, babe? - [Door Opens.]
- The claim check- let's have it.
- What? - The claim check for the coat.
How do you know about the coat? - What difference does it make? - Did Lila tell you? She said you'd be a good sport.
Don't disappoint me.
[Yells.]
[Grunts.]
##[Background: Upbeat.]
[Audience Applauding.]
- [People Whistling.]
- [Applauding Continues.]
[Whistling, Applauding Continue.]
They should put battle ribbons in our pay envelopes.
- Your first major? - Not exactly, but it may be my last.
##[Continues, Muffled.]
[Affected Accent.]
Oh! Wonderful texture.
Beautiful sheen.
So sleek.
So- So touchable.
- Watch it, buster.
- Easy, honey.
The buyer's always right.
Just testing your material, love.
After all, if I'm gonna buy, I have to know what I'm buying, don't I? - This is what you're buying.
- And you're buying a short career.
Oh, ladies, ladies! Lovely ladies! If it were up to me, I'd take you all back to Birmingham and introduce you to the Queen Mum herself.
- Oh! [Kisses.]
- Oh, you chaps from England.
You're all so friendly.
Sam St.
Cloud, my dear lady.
Marks & Spencer.
- Do look me up the next time you're on the isle.
- [Slap.]
- Oh, sure.
- Yes? - You're not forgetting me, are you? - Do I sense the room has warmed? Spare me the pranks.
It's enough that I have to slither through that meat line out there.
- Ah, duty first, Laura.
- It's demeaning.
It's degrading.
Yes, indeed.
I'm sure it is.
Eyes front, St.
Cloud.
- Are you two on top of things? - Oh, rest assured, Mr.
Baron.
I have personally checked the credentials of every buyer here.
- Miss Holt has also done the same with the models.
- But that's not enough.
Even as we speak, everyone in this building- all of New York, all of Paris- is trying to steal my designs.
I am sure that Halston has tried to bribe my sketch artists.
I am convinced that Blass sends flowers to my cleaning lady.
And I am positive that Valentin- Valentino has tried to hide hidden cameras in this theater.
Mr.
Baron, your worries are over.
- The Steele Agency is known for its competence, - Mm-hmm.
- its class, and- - Mm-hmm.
Stop that man! [People Chattering.]
- ##[Continues.]
- Big buyer from New York.
Unlimited credit.
- [Chattering.]
- Oh! Take him.
- Excuse me.
Sorry.
- [Chattering.]
Mind your back.
Mind your backs.
[Yelling, Chattering.]
Sorry.
Sorry.
What? No.
I got- I got- - Mitzi, stow it.
- You want it double-stitched? [Bell Rings.]
[Bell Rings.]
Yes, young man.
Can I help you? Prine, Prine.
With the turtle shell.
Right.
- He asked me to pick it up for him.
- He did? Does that, uh, present a problem? No.
That's no problem.
That's a pleasure.
- It's the gabardine twill with the elbows with the patches.
- Yeah, right.
Yeah.
Have I got a coat for you.
What's Mr.
Prine gonna say when he finds out he's got the wrong coat? Mitzi, work with me.
There's a man out there that wants somethin' does not belong to him.
That's what I love about you, Bulletz- always thinkin' of the other fella.
Huh? Huh? What do you think? Huh? Quality like that you wouldn't even find on Rodeo Drive.
- You! - Me? - Him.
- Me? - You.
- I'll just, uh- Wise decision.
Remington Steele, Mr.
Bloustein, of Remington Steele Investigations.
A gumshoe? He hired a gumshoe? Given the circumstances, I'd say the decision was warranted, wouldn't you? All right.
All right.
He wins.
[Chuckles.]
He always wins.
Okay.
Take it and go.
Thank you.
I'm sure Mr.
Baron will be very grateful.
Grateful? [Laughing.]
Julian wouldn't know grateful if it jumped up and kicked him where he sits.
[Scoffing Laugh.]
Ah! Pleats.
Pleats, Mr.
Steele.
Twenty-five years ago, this was my calling card.
The original design was Baron's but the hope, the vision, the dream- that was mine.
That filcher stole my dream the day he walked off with the designs- designs that I paid for, sent him to school for wiped his nose for! And now he begrudges me a lousy roll of film? [Mock Spit.]
One gets the distinct impression there's more between you and Mr.
Baron than mere, uh, acquaintances.
Bite your tongue, Mr.
Steele! We were brothers.
Nothing more.
Brothers.
Notice the subtle symmetry the artist's skillful use of subterfuge.
[Sniffs.]
The elusive mystery of unexposed film.
Mr.
Baron, Mr.
Periot I'm sure that there's a logical explanation here somewhere.
Explanation? [Scoffs.]
Let's face it.
Mr.
Steele has been shnorered.
Shnorered? Is that a technical term? Oh.
Finagled.
To rob Peter but not quite pay Paul.
The simple truth is the man did, um, shnorer me.
He gave me a cock-and-bull story about Mr.
Baron being his long-lost brother.
Well, he is my brother.
That's what worries me.
By tomorrow morning, 600 illegal aliens, slaving by candlelight will have converted my $7,000 originals into $7 rags.
The women in Beverly Hills to whom I sell will be viewing my greatest collection on the backs of their hired help.
Julian.
Don't upset yourself.
[Inhales, Exhales.]
You see, in the world of fashion, word travels fast- word of success, word of failure.
I would just hate to think what the other potential clients in the Mart would say if the Remington Steele Agency failed to retrieve that film.
Your meaning cuts me to the quick, Mr.
Periot.
I hope so, Mr.
Steele.
I hope so.
Gossip can be so destructive.
All right, Bloustein! Front and center! Mr.
Steele, is that you? - What happened? - He hit me from behind.
That's what happened.
Very convincing, Bloustein, but we're not leaving without the film- every last roll of it.
- Where is it? - In the plaid garment bag.
Mitzi sewed it in the lining of the blazer for safekeeping.
Empty.
Thieves! Ganefs.
! They stole my season.
If this is another one of your tap dances, Mr.
Bloustein- Miss Holt, you know me for almost an hour.
You still don't trust me? Hardly the home of a man who traffics in high fashion espionage, is it? [Rhythmical Knocking.]
- I'll check the bedroom.
- Blazer, 42 Long.
- Right.
- I'll check the kitchen.
Mr.
Prine left his I.
D.
at home.
Apparently he works for a company called Overdyne, whoever they are.
- The moon.
- The "Old Devil" one? Overdyne helped get us there.
They're very big in high tech.
Hmm.
It leads one to wonder what the bytes and ROMs have to do with the latest hemlines, doesn't it? Have a look at this.
Perhaps Lila can tell us.
Well, "Leela," yes.
Thought all us English chaps were so friendly.
The line to the hemlines grows clearer.
And who better than a model to infiltrate a showroom? I speak from bitter experience.
Finding everything we need, are we, Bulletz? Not very pretty.
Excuse me.
Oh.
[Murmurs.]
Ooh.
[Clears Throat.]
"Mark Warren Prine.
" Damn it! [Exhales.]
Skull fracture.
- Crude but effective.
- Here.
Then who's the other guy? Some shtarker comes to me with the Prine kid's claim check.
Mitzi hadjust sewn the film in the lining.
- So naturally, I couldn't give him the right coat.
- Naturally.
- But he returns.
- Bops me on the noggin, runs off with the blazer.
How did he know the film is in the lining? Unless we're dealing with something more than Julian Baron's latest creations.
Couldn't be the blazer.
The material was lousy.
It's a good guess that whoever stole that blazer also stuffed Mr.
Prine in the icebox.
And he's expecting no one to find him, so, for now, we'll close the door and- Return to the world of sequins and feathers.
- 7:30 tomorrow sharp, hmm? - [Models Groaning.]
Do you think we can get a little sleep tonight? - This means you, Francesca.
- [Models Laughing.]
[Models Chattering.]
Funny.
I thought the streets in L.
A.
would be paved with rich men.
- Must be time for a repaving.
- [Laughing.]
Of course, there is that English buyer- St.
Clod or Cloud.
- Sam.
Sam from Birmingham.
- Yeah.
A lot of bucks to press out of that suit.
- How'd you do? - Oh, mezzo-mezzo.
What about you? Anybody special? I'm what they call a player, honey.
Long relationships cramp my style.
Oh, there is a guy.
Treats me pretty good, but- It's not goin' anywhere.
He's a $28,000-a-year man with a outside shot at 30.
- [Clicks Tongue.]
- That doesn't sound so bad.
[Sighs.]
At your age, nothin' sounds bad.
You got time.
You get hurt, you got time to recover time to move on.
At my age, you run out of time.
So, when luck smiles and the brass ring just happens to come up a second time you gotta grab it and hold on to it with everything you've got.
- [Phone Rings.]
- That's for me! I'll get it! - I gotta run.
- I'll see you soon? I don't know.
If I don't, remember what I said, huh? [Ringing Continues.]
Hello? Taxi.
Taxi! - Where's Mr.
Steele? - He went up to look forJulian.
Perfect.
Follow that cab.
I love that kind of talk.
Me, Julian Baron, a murderer? You must be out of your mind, Mr.
Steele.
It is your memo paper.
Yes, of course it's my memo paper.
But you don't recall the handwriting.
Is that correct? My door is open to every Tom, Dick and Murray who traipses into the Mart.
Any one of them could have scribbled that note.
Mr.
Baron, a man was murdered.
If my client was involved, I have a right to know.
Bulletz put you up to this.
Hmm.
Why would Mr.
Bloustein do something like that? Because he hates me.
That's why.
That two brothers should have a falling-out simply because one of them was a trifle, uh, ungrateful hardly seems to be- Ungrateful? Is that what he told you? Oh, yes, and I'm sure he told you how he put me through school too.
Well, I paid him back five times over for that.
Churned out my designs gratis, only to watch him sabotage my reputation by using the cheapest fabrics available shortcut after shortcut seamstresses who couldn't sew straight.
I gave him custody of a world-class talent and he tried to ruin me.
So now Bulletz shnorers on Santee Street while his younger brother creates two blocks away.
Hmm? What happens between my brother and me, Mr.
Steele, is just that.
Your job is to find the film.
My job is to find the murderer.
Circle the block, and then let's park.
[Sighs.]
This time it'd better be the right jacket, or Mark's gonna catch up with me.
Ah, don't worry about Mark.
- What are we lookin'for? - I'll let you know when I find it.
- Didn't your client tell you? - Don't worry about my client.
That's not your territory.
Aha.
Voilà.
Mark must have been taking pictures at Overdyne.
- Naughty pictures.
- The guy was a spy.
The least we know about what's on this film the happier you and I will both be.
[Laura.]
There goes Lila.
Uh.
Where do you think you're going? Just think of me as your muscle, Miss Holt.
Following people in a limousine- you do very well.
But at 110 pounds, Sam Spade you're not.
[Laughing.]
It's a sweet thought, Bulletz.
But, trust me, stay.
- Pretty lady.
- Oh, hello.
A friend of mine from the Mart- Lila- she sent me over.
She said to ask for, um- - Karl? - Karl, yes.
Yes, that's it.
- Do you know where I might find him? - You're lookin' at him.
Oh.
Hello.
You're your own best advertisement there.
- And you're, uh- - Um, Laura Holt.
Yeah.
Um, uh, selenium yeast? I always seem to get a rise out of that.
- [Both Chuckling.]
- A can or a box? Um, perhaps a case.
A case of yeast.
It's your body, baby.
[Door Closes.]
You know, I think that soy protein isolate would be just the ticket for me.
- Ticket to what? - I'll take a case.
[Door Closes.]
You can't make the wheat germ smoothies without the wheat germ.
- A case.
- Make it two.
[Engine Starts.]
I swear to you, Mr.
Steele.
The last time I saw that film Mitzi was sewing it into the lining of this coat.
Well, if we don't have it, and you don't have it- - And young Mr.
Prine doesn't have it- - Then who has it? - [Exhales.]
- [Laura, Steele.]
They do.
The film's worth bubkes! It's the blazer he wants.
[Sighs.]
It's right over here.
Just a second.
Oh! [Exhales.]
It's gone! Oh! Your friend- she's the only one that was near it.
- Friend? What friend? - Uh, good-lookin' brunette.
Health nut.
Said she knew you from the Mart.
Laurie.
No.
Laura.
Laura Holt.
Friend, my toe.
She's been pumping me for information.
Well, she's gonna need all the health food she can get.
- [Steele.]
Deeply, Laura.
- [Inhales.]
- [Exhales.]
- From the heart.
You're very good at this, you know.
Comes naturally with the right person.
You know if Lila has done something desperate, I'd almost understand it.
That meat line atJulian's would drive any woman to distraction.
From sore feet? - Sore hearts, sore souls.
- Oh.
A man is seen as many things- doer, thinker.
A woman? Bottom line- [Moans.]
flesh.
[Sighs.]
Nobody told you what to be when you grew up.
You're a man.
You smoke cigars.
Oh.
They used to come by the office in droves.
"Steal away with me, Laura.
" "How's Palm Springs sound, Laura?" [Sighs.]
But handle a case? "Better let Mr.
Steele handle that, Laura.
" But you didn't, did you? Thank the Lord.
Or we'd both be scrounging for the rent.
No one's ever gonna treat you as just flesh.
Flesh? Yes.
But never just flesh.
- [Footsteps Approaching.]
- [Bulletz.]
I took a chance, Miss Holt.
Uh, the caviar was goin' bad.
Oh, I see.
Well, to the conqueror goes the spoils, eh? - [Chuckling.]
Same to you, Mr.
Steele.
- Yes.
- [Exhales.]
- [Sighs.]
Yes.
Why can't I find the courage to tell that little man about his brother? Because you'd like to see them back together again.
Laura.
Makes me sound like a sentimental fool.
Never.
Well, I guess I owe him the truth whatever that leads to.
- [People Laughing.]
- [Clears Throat.]
[TV: Laughing Continues.]
[Tapping Continues.]
- Problem? - Not enough color.
The Honeymooners wasn't made in color.
- Remember? - [Laughing.]
Happens to be the only show I never tire of.
Americana around the kitchen table- Jackie Gleason roaring, amiable Art Carney.
- Ah.
My Miriam- she was so partial to Carney.
- Mm-hmm? Something in his eyes, I think.
- You were married? - Thirty-one years.
[Exhales.]
God rest her.
You-You ever lose anybody, Mr.
Steele? Mm.
Once.
- A long time ago.
- I thought so.
- Your eyes tell more than you know.
- [Exhales.]
You've lost someone twice though, Bulletz.
Lost? Save your sympathy.
There was a time when I could've connected with Julian Baron again.
- Oh? - In the beginning Francois came to me with a proposition.
If I stopped calling him a slimy momzer- at least in front ofJulian- I had a job for life.
- I gather you refused.
- The Prince of Pleats pressing fabric for that bum Periot? I told him as much.
Oh, boy, did I tell him.
- He broke you, didn't he? - [Laughs.]
Yes.
Cut 90% of myJersey business.
In New York, the reps wouldn't even speak to me.
Miami dried up.
Chicago- [Low Whistle.]
- Did you talk to your brother? - Don't you think I was entitled to the first call? You know- You know, Bulletz whatever's wrong between you I mean, Julian Bloustein is still your brother.
Surely there must be some common ground.
If there is, Stanley and Livingstone couldn't find it.
All right.
All right.
Damn it, Francois! It was your handwriting.
What does that prove? That I tried to send your brother a little business.
A little business? A little business! A man was killed over that business.
Didn't you know that? Didn't you? [Scoffs.]
Oh.
Julian.
- Do I kill? - I don't know everything about you.
You want to know everything? [Clicks Tongue.]
Who raised the money for the next season? '77- the tailored look that nobody wanted.
Again, we recovered.
Did you ever ask how? Did you ever give it a thought? And the houses- a fortune in houses.
The villa in Marrakech.
The chalet in Saint Moritz that you just had to have! Oh.
"Francois, take care of the details.
Don't bother me with your problems.
" I trusted you! Well, Julian.
You still want the problems to go away don't you? [Shudders.]
I found her- the hat heading in our direction.
Uh, Holt, wasn't it? Oh, what a marvelous surprise.
Mmm! [Kisses, Laughing.]
- Lila just made you.
- Ah.
The hunk that's with her? That's Karl.
- [Blows.]
- Hunk? Hulk.
Bulletz gave him the first jacket.
- The young one- that's trouble.
- No problem.
He's a buyer.
Buyer, huh? That's Remington Steele.
- Karl's mine.
- He's big.
I'll duck.
Steele's yours.
She's mine.
Well, what an unexpected surprise.
- Fate.
- At least.
- Busy tonight? - Funny you should ask.
Yeah, no.
Sure.
No, book me.
I'd love to.
No, who's on makeup? I'll be there.
10:00.
Sam? - Sam from Birmingham.
- [Affected Accent.]
Ah, yes! Let me guess.
Let me guess.
Don't tell me.
- Lila.
Lila Colbert.
We met atJulian's.
- Ah, yes.
[Chuckles.]
Bernie Federman.
[Kiss.]
Chicago Emporium.
Perhaps you would care to join us this evening? [Laughing.]
Oh, you guys from Chicago.
You're all so friendly.
Bernie Federman.
Bernie Federman.
- ##[Piano: Lounge.]
- So, Sam, your own line of dresses.
- How exciting.
- You should have seen us 30 years ago.
Pleats.
What we did with pleats.
Yes, who could forget them? Tell me, Leela what would you say to a management position in my new enterprise, eh? Not just another model on the line, mind you but the model- above the line.
- Time off your feet.
- [Moaning.]
- People working for you.
- Oh, where do I sign? - Another bottle of wine, sir? - Champagne, my good man.
Rothschild, if you got 'im.
'32 is the year I remember.
- Oh! Champagne! I don't believe it.
- Excuse me, Leela.
[Whispering.]
Your memory just cost me $600, old boy.
[Clears Throat.]
- Isn't he great? - Yes, yes.
Dining with Bernie is always such an unexpected pleasure.
So, about this job.
Where do I sign? Well, Leela, as it happens, you already have.
Oh! I don't think I understand.
[Clears Throat.]
[Drops Accent.]
I'm not sure who you're working for, Lila but you may be in deeper than you think.
At the moment, the authorities will show some leniency.
Leniency? For what? Why not start with Mark Prine's murder then work our way back from there, eh? Mark? Murdered? You're lying.
You're just trying to shake me.
Believe me, Lila.
Then perhaps I'll be able to believe you.
##[Background: LightJazz.]
Oh.
A little dancing, a little takeout, a couple of cold ones.
What more could you ask for? Oh, some ice, if you have some.
- For your beer? - Oh, well, you know how it is.
Family tradition.
[Laughs.]
- Oh.
- [Sighs.]
Uh-huh.
[Clicks Tongue.]
[Clicks Tongue.]
[Laughing.]
Oh, thank you very much.
Oh.
Uh- Excuse- I'm sorry.
Um, the bathroom's right over there.
Thank you.
[Chuckles.]
Oh.
[Both Laughing.]
I really don't know whether I wanna go through with this.
What am I gonna say to Mark if he walks in on us? If Mark Prine walks anywhere, medical science will rewrite itself from the top.
- Go on, Miss Colbert.
Open it.
Go on.
- What? Oh.
[Whimpering, Gasps.]
[Laughing.]
Is that what you guys dragged me over here to see? A pot roast? Slice it.
I saw him too, Mr.
Steele.
[Chuckles.]
[Cocks Trigger.]
The blazer.
It was never the film.
All this time, it was the jacket everybody wanted.
No more talk.
I want that blazer.
Now.
Not a chance, Karl.
[Gunshots.]
[Crying.]
There's so many things I wanted to tell you.
So many things I should've told you.
I'm sorry.
Oh, come here.
Come.
Come, baby.
Oh, baby.
[Sobbing.]
- Oh, babe.
- [Sighs.]
I hate to interrupt while I'm ahead.
Laura? Laura? - Oh, babe! [Laughing.]
- [Gasping.]
Oh! Oh! Wait a minute.
Listen.
I think it's beginning to make sense.
Nothing makes any sense but the fact that you're alive and well and- - [Muffled Sighs.]
- Laura, why are you alive and well? Huh? - This blazer, Mr.
Steele.
- Yeah? - It's steel.
- What? - This is some fabric.
- Miss Holt, are you okay? Karl and Lila didn't want to getJulian's film.
This jacket-They wanted the jacket all the time.
That's what Mark was killed for.
- Uh, you mean, bulletproof? - Exactly.
Top-of-the-line, yet light and stylish.
And I think I know just the man who can tell us all about it.
Oh.
Oh, quite a lady.
Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, eh? Hmm.
Yes.
[Beeping.]
I'm amazed the F.
B.
I.
isn't beating down your door.
Classified fabric? Silicone-conductive Kimlar.
One of the top body armors in the world today.
Not only lighter than plastic it has a flex strength greater than forged steel.
- Stronger than steel? - Oh, Milton and I always did see eye-to-eye.
Would anyone kill for this? Your franchise, not mine.
But what you do have here is a special mutation - something the Russians would give up vodka to get.
- [Laughs.]
We are talking superconductor metal virtually free of all resistance.
You get the formula from this sample make enough for an airplane skin- the plane could absorb any free currents in the skies.
Now, wait a minute, Milton.
You're saying that a radar beam like this striking the Kimlar skin, would be gobbled up rather than bounce back to its source? Not only gobbled up, Binkie.
Converted.
- [Mouthing.]
Binkie? - And returned with a bang.
Pow! Binkie? You have your secrets.
I have mine.
I'm afraid someone else has got theirs.
Milton, old chap, that was most enlightening.
- Thank you very much.
- Oh, anytime.
- Thank you, Milton.
- Ah.
Russians, F.
B.
I.
Whoever we're after, they're in big, big trouble.
- Bulletz, old mate, sit down for a second.
- Hmm? There's no easy way to tell you this.
We found this on Mark's body.
The blazer, Bulletz.
Whoever hired Mark to steal the Kimlar must have pointed him in your direction.
Julian.
Ajacket's a very clever way of getting the fabric out of the country.
I took the liberty of observing your brother's jacket size- 42 Long, I'm afraid.
Afraid? [Scoffs.]
Let's fit him for a matching noose.
- What- - I thought we were partners.
I want my share of the money.
Without the blazer- what money? - Stop it.
- Watch it! Look, it's my bus ticket, all right? - [Whimpering.]
- You owe me.
Mark is dead, isn't he? I hired you to steal a claim check and you killed him.
Oh, we've got more than one death to worry about and I'm gettin' out if I have to sell you to the cops to do it.
Going someplace, Karl? Duck! - You okay? - Yeah.
How about you? - You okay? - Yeah.
How about you? Oh, great.
[Exhales.]
- Oh.
Mr.
Periot.
- Perhaps you'd do me the kindness of an explanation.
- If you'll just step- - No, no, no, no.
I mean, a hysterical model, a thug on the showroom floor.
- In a few moments.
- No, no, no.
Now.
Mr.
Steele.
It's rather late to be calling, isn't it? Bulletz, what are you doing here? As the adage goes, better late than never, eh? Shmuts.
! Nitwit! You got two minutes.
Run.
- Run? - It wasn't enough to sell overpriced dresses.
You had to sell state secrets.
I knew it would come to this with your fancy clothes and your fancy friends.
Stay Baron.
What you have done to the name Bloustein- - Oh, Bulletz.
Help me.
- I just did help you.
I betrayed the best of men.
So forget your top secret, Mr.
42 Long, and run.
When was I a 42 Long? - 40 Regular.
- Has it been so long, Bulletz? Then-Then who's the 42 Long? - [Crying.]
- Julian.
Julian.
This time, I'll do more than hide your car keys.
This time, I'll find the dirtiest prison in this country and you will call it home.
Francois.
Yes.
Oy, gevalt.
! Oh.
Wake up, Mr.
Steele.
It was only taffeta.
What a perfect cover.
- Hmm? - Your job.
Respected international businessman traveling to all the fashion centers of the world- Paris, Milan, Hong Kong- for fabrics.
My employers are very demanding.
I thought you were self-employed.
We all have to report to someone, Miss Holt.
You set Mark up with Lila.
Women's work- softening him up.
May I have the blazer, please? Would a man really as elegant as you carry a gun in that pocket? It might ruin the drape of the jacket.
[Screams.]
[Yells.]
Bulletz! Bulletz! - Stay with him.
Stay with him.
- But- Laura, wait! [Alarm Ringing.]
Julian's dresses look terrific but I can't find that slender brunette with the knockout legs.
You mean I missed my chance at a Vogue cover? - Afraid so.
- Oh, good.
- Ah.
Hmm.
- [Knocking.]
- Enter.
Ah.
Welcome, gentlemen.
- Oh.
- [Chuckles.]
Hello.
- Hi.
[Clears Throat.]
From the brothers Bloustein.
Oh.
Bulletz, I'm so touched.
Thank you.
- An original, Mr.
Steele.
- Oh, thank you.
But with a touch of tradition.
Really? Oh, dear.
What can it be, eh? Oh.
Twenty-five years, I imagine, eh? [Both Chuckling.]
[Chuckles, Clears Throat.]
Here we go.
- Oh! - Saves the wrapping paper.
Oh.
Pleated muffler? - My inspiration.
- My creation.
- My idea.
- Oh.
You English chaps, you're all so friendly.
[Muffled Yelp.]
[Mews.]