Remington Steele (1982) s03e22 Episode Script

- Working undercover today, Miss Holt? - I was shot at today.
- I know you're upset, but- - I get that way when I get shot at.
Fascinating story.
A husband-and-wife hit team? - Where's Mr.
Steele? - Bailed out on me.
- Where's Miss Holt? - Beats me.
That's what I love about Mr.
Steele- always here when you need him.
I'm sidestepping bullets, trying to find out who shot her, trying to save her agency.
- Her agency? - Merely a figure of speech.
Ah.
On time as always, Mr.
Dunford.
Good evening, Mr.
Erhart.
Gentlemen.
Would you excuse us, Jack? Certainly.
Gentlemen.
Proceed, Mr.
Dunford.
Well, I thought you should see some of the poster mock-ups we've been working on for you, Mr.
Erhart.
Oh.
They're coming right along.
Right along indeed, Mr.
Dunford.
Horton, don't you think you're being a bit premature with all this? After all, the election is still two years away.
It'll be here faster than you think,J.
W.
Perhaps so.
However, I feel we should at least wait until the background check on Mr.
Westfield is complete before we go any further.
We wouldn't want to put our collective reputations behind a man who may have some buried bodies lying around.
From everything I've read so far, he's exemplary.
Now, I say we put our mouth where our money is and get this campaign in full gear now.
Gentlemen, I think it would be more prudent if we wait until we're absolutely certain there are no chinks in Mr.
Westfield's background.
Wait.
Wait.
Well, Horton, old boy.
I guess you've been outvoted.
I'm getting sick and tired of being dismissed like an errant schoolboy - every time a decision has to be made.
- Be patient, my boy.
You'll be part of the inner circle soon enough.
- When? - Have you set everything in motion? Then be of good cheer.
Thanks again for your time, Mrs.
Tucker.
You've been very helpful.
Oh, it was my pleasure.
Really.
Believe me.
And, uh, I know I'm prejudiced, but I think Mr.
Westfield would make a wonderful senator.
Well, he appears to have the credentials for it.
Unless something suddenly comes up, uh, I'd say he has a shot at it.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye.
Uh-Yes, Mildred? Mr.
Steele, Mr.
Erhart's here to see you.
Who's Mr.
Erhart? Horton Erhart.
Well, I'm delighted he has a first name, but who the devil is he? The background check on William Westfield.
- Who's William Westfield? - Miss Holt's working on it.
Well-Well, then sic him on Miss Holt.
She's not here.
Oh.
Never around when you need her.
Uh, well- Uh, all right, Mildred.
Okay.
Send him in.
Thank you.
Okay.
Ah, Mr.
Erhart.
How very nice to finally meet you face-to-face.
- May I call you Horton? Bring in the file, will you, Miss Krebs? - What file? Why, the files on William Westfield's background check, of course.
Uh, that is why you're here, isn't it, Horton? Mr.
Steele, I'm impressed.
A man as busy as you undoubtedly are making the extra effort to become personally involved in each and every case tells me that we have hired the right agency.
Well, I wouldn't have it any other way, Horton.
After all, that's why my good name is on that door out there.
Ah.
Thank you very much, Miss Krebs.
Now, I really haven't had a chance to, uh- peruse this case since its final, uh, update.
But, uh, well, it appears we've turned every page possible on Mr.
Westfield and it appears, uh- Well, it appears he's absolutely clean.
Then I see no reason why you can't give it your stamp of approval and send me on my way.
Consider it stamped, Horton.
- Not so fast.
- Hmm? Ah.
Working undercover today, Miss Holt? Uh, excellent bag lady look.
Yes.
Mr.
Erhart, something has come up and I think we should pursue it before we stamp anything.
- What's happened? - I was shot at today.
Twice, actually.
Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Holt, but what has that got to do with William Westfield? In addition to the fact that we're not working on any other cases at the moment I was interviewing Mr.
Westfield's former secretary when it happened.
But your superior just finished telling me that Westfield was clean.
Recently, however my superior and I found a gap in Mr.
Westfield's history.
A gap? What sort of gap? There's a period in his life that cannot be adequately accounted for.
- Sounds as if she's grasping for straws, Mr.
Steele.
- Hmm.
I hardly think someone would want to shoot me just for grasping at straws.
Do you, Mr.
Steele? Horton, I'm going to get on top of this personally.
I know how upset you are about this and how important it is to you.
But I'm not gonna let you down.
I'm gonna stake my reputation on this.
Consider it staked.
Rest assured, Horton.
Laura, I mean, really.
I really would appreciate it if you'd inform me what cases I'm meant to be working on.
I did, but you dozed off in the middle of it.
It's not my fault legwork makes you drowsy.
- I know you're upset, but- - I get that way when I get shot at.
Irrespective of that, Laura, I've been looking over this file and I must say you have done some admirable work here.
Really.
I mean it.
I would vote for Mr.
Westfield.
That's the way it appears on the surface.
But if you're going to stake my agency's reputation we're not closing the books on this until we're sure.
- We're sure.
- Hmm.
That's what I love about you, Laura.
You're so thorough.
You're so- so tediously thorough.
I got a look at the car of whoever shot at me.
Oh, excellent.
What was it? A green Thunderbird.
Or a Cougar.
Or a Buick or a Oldsmobile.
Well, that certainly narrows it down, doesn't it? I'll call Detroit first thing in the morning.
But there was a bumper sticker with a lightning bolt on it.
- Yes.
Go on.
- That's it.
- That's it? - I was lying facedown in the gutter.
- That's it? - I was lying facedown in the gutter.
Couldn't you have lifted your head just a little bit and got a look at the license number? Next time, I'll try to do better.
All right, mister.
I want to kn- William Westfield? Uh, you're not gonna put this on my report, are you? Well, as soon as I found out you'd been shot at, I headed straight for your office.
I saw you leaving and followed.
At least I tried to.
How did you find out about the shooting, Mr.
Westfield? William.
Please.
Uh, Mrs.
Tucker called me.
Do you have any idea what anybody doesn't want me to find out about you? That's what I wanted to talk to you about.
I have nothing to hide.
Suppose we start with a curious gap in your history, Mr.
Westfield.
William.
Please.
You worked for the district attorney From April through June, no one seems to recall seeing hide nor hair of you.
Ten years ago.
Um, you know, I remember that.
I was down in Mexico at the time.
Business or pleasure? Definitely not pleasure.
The case involved a- a really bad fire.
A residential district went up in flames, and a lot of people lost their lives.
It smelled of arson, and there was a suspicion in the office that SenatorJefferson was behind it.
The late Senator Hartford Jefferson? The same.
He owned the land, and there was talk of putting a freeway through.
The residents took it to court, and it could have dragged on for years.
But without the houses, the suit was academic.
Anyway, we got a lead that his son, Scott, had skipped to Mexico because he'd found out about his father and the fire.
I traipsed around down there for better than two months looking for that kid.
I finally found him in a hospital in Cancún where he'd tried to kill himself.
- Did you talk to him? - I was only instructed to find him and then call Erhart.
Erhart? Horton Erhart? Yeah.
He was D.
A.
at the time.
Anyway, he flew down to Cancún to take the kid's deposition but before he could get there, Jefferson was transferred to a- a sanitarium in Mexico City and declared legally insane.
There were no further leads, so the case just fizzled out.
Why wasn't there any record of all that? We were talking about implicating a United States senator.
That's not the kind of thing you broadcast around until you're pretty sure you can make it stick.
Your story seems plausible enough.
It seems plausible? Now, what do you think I did down there? Rape and pillage? Come on, Miss Holt.
I don't even like Mexican food.
I think I'll have a little talk with Mr.
Erhart.
See what he remembers.
Thank you, Mr.
Westfield.
William.
Please.
If a man's gonna melt a woman's ice cubes they ought to at least be on a first-name basis.
We got trouble, boss.
- Remington Steele? - Call you right back.
Yes.
Oscar Bergman, State Bureau of Investigative Licensing.
Uh, you better go get Miss Holt, Mildred.
Hmm? We have run across some irregularities in your case reports.
Perhaps you would be so kind as to clear them up for us.
Uh, actually, Mr.
Bergman, I am rather busy at the moment.
Um- Well, I'm sure this won't take long.
Let's start with the Harper case, shall we? - The, uh-The-The Harper case, huh? - Yes.
According to the publicity it garnered, it was one of your more famous cases.
Uh, give me a year, eh? You wouldn't perchance have any, uh, more recent irregularities, would you? Let's stick with Harper for now.
Yeah.
Why not? Stick with Harper.
Okay.
Uh- Hmm.
To be absolutely candid with you, Mr.
Bergman, uh in those early years I never really involved myself in any of the cases.
My talents worked best in a more advisory capacity.
Oh, yes, yes.
The good old days.
Uh- Uh, I best just go get the files, uh just in case, you know, to check anything out, and, uh, don't go away.
- Miss Holt? What? - No luck.
- What's going on in there? - Oh, I wish I knew, Mildred.
Mildred, I want you to go through Miss Holt's files and I want you to find everything you can on the Harper case.
- November, 1980.
Okay? - Okay.
Well, Miss Holt, since you arrive empty-handed I can only assume the report is still incomplete.
I just need a bit of corroboration, Mr.
Erhart.
Then I can issue it.
Oh.
What, uh-What sort of corroboration? You sent William Westfield to Mexico to locate a ScottJefferson, correct? Good Lord.
That was 10 years ago.
Mr.
Westfield called you after he'd found ScottJefferson in Cancún but when you got there to take his deposition Jefferson had been moved to a sanitarium in Mexico City.
Case closed.
Did you ever suspect there might have been a leak? Uh, I'm not sure what you're getting at.
Well, there you were, trying to incriminate a United States senator and suddenly your key witness was labeled legally insane rendering him useless to your case.
Well, yes, but the only other person who knew that we'd found the young man was- William Westfield.
Are you suggesting that Westfield had Jefferson moved? What if he had already obtained a deposition from Jefferson before he called you? What if he then arranged it so thatJefferson could not legally give his deposition to anyone else? Why would he do something like that? Less than two months after you both returned from Cancún Mr.
Westfield moved from his office to the most prestigious law firm in the country- the same law firm that handled Senator Hartford Jefferson's legal work.
A payoff of some kind? Careers have been built on less.
Well, it's food for thought, Miss Holt.
But how would you go about finding out whether it's true or not? Well, the only man who could prove it would be ScottJefferson.
I'm going to Mexico City and see if I can have a chat with him.
But that trail is 10 years old.
It's fresher than that, Mr.
Erhart.
Remember.
I was shot at this morning.
Ah.
Miss Holt.
Making any progress in the Westfield matter? I'll let you know in a few days.
Horton doesn't look too happy.
Hmm.
What say we cheer him up? It's the only green Thunderbird I got, Mr.
, uh- Uh, Keyes.
Uh, Norman Keyes.
Uh, Vigilance Insurance.
I guarantee you won't find any dents in that baby.
- I- I checked her out myself.
- Mmm.
Yes, yes, yes.
Well, when my client cries hit and run, I mean, we have to check this out.
Uh, we're vigilant.
Vigilance is our watchword.
That's what it is.
Vigilance is our- watchword.
- Yes.
- Hey.
Wait, wait.
- Why are you looking inside? - Well, you can never be too vigilant, see.
You think he hit your client's car with a glove compartment? Ah, well.
Well.
Well, sir, you've been an absolute brick, sir.
An absolute brick.
It's people like you who keep the insurance rate down.
Good day to you, sir.
It's been very nice talking to you.
Good day.
Mildred? - Mildred? - Oh, Miss Holt.
- Thank God you're here.
- Mildred, what's the matter? - He grilled me like an animal.
- Who? Some jerk from the Bureau of Investigative Licensing.
He said he found some discrepancies in your old case reports.
- Where's Mr.
Steele? - Bailed out on me.
- Where? - I don't know.
One minute he's here, the next minute- That's what I love about Mr.
Steele- always here when you need him.
- All right, Mildred.
I'll handle the bureau when I get back.
- Where are you going? - Mexico City.
- But what about Mr.
Steele? I'll handle him when I get back too.
Front desk.
Yes.
Uh, I'd like to have my car out front in 10 minutes, please.
Uh, the valet number is, uh One moment, please.
Oh, yes.
That's the green Thunderbird, Mr.
Donaldson? Yes.
Yes.
That's the one.
Thank you very much.
Oh, and could I have a newspaper delivered to my room right away? - I'd be glad to, Mr.
Donaldson.
- Splendid.
Thank you very much.
- Champagne.
- No, thank you.
Oh, it's compliments of the gentleman.
How is it that you just happen to be on the very same plane to Mexico City? Coincidence? With answers like that, I'd never buy a used car from you, Mr.
Westfield.
- William.
Please.
- You're avoiding the question.
You and I share a common interest, Miss Holt: my past.
Who knows? Maybe before this is all over, we'll find we share even more important things.
That's a coincidence I wouldn't count on.
You didn't say.
Did you ever talk to Erhart? I didn't say.
I don't think I quite understand you, Miss Holt.
I've been perfectly straight with you.
I've told you everything I know.
Then I find out you're headed for Mexico City which tells me there's something in my background you're looking for- something to do with ScottJefferson, I assume.
I don't know exactly what you're after but I plan on being there when you find whatever it is you think you're gonna find.
- I have nothing to hide.
- So you've said, Mr.
Westfield.
Who the hell are you? I represent a rather disgruntled client of yours.
The one connected to the Holt situation.
Look, uh, sweetheart.
Why don't you take off? I'll call you later.
But what about the coat you bought me? Can I take it with me? Yeah.
Well, don't take all day, huh? - So, what do you want? - Ah, ah.
My client is extremely unhappy.
You missed your target.
He wants his money back.
I'm here to collect.
What? What are you? Crazy? That was the deal! That's not the way my client sees it.
I told Prince I didn't like the setup.
I'm not paid to miss.
I don't care how much I get.
I have a certain reputation to maintain.
You honestly expect me to believe that Prince hired you to intentionally miss Laura Holt? That's what he wanted, and that's what he got.
And he's not gonna weasel out of this now.
Fascinating story.
The police will- - Get your head up.
Get your head up.
- Helen! Helen, don't shoot! - For God's sake, it's me.
! - Go on.
Right up.
Come on.
Up, up, up.
That's it.
Okay.
Who is she? Who is she? Come on.
- My wife.
- Your-Your-Your wife? Uh, H- Helen.
All right, darling.
You can do one of two things.
It's your move.
You can either drop the gun, or it's instant divorce.
Huh? - Come on.
- Helen.
What's taking you so long? - Come on.
- Helen.
That's a good-That's a good girl.
All right, sunshine.
Up you get.
Up you get.
Stay there.
Stay there.
A husband-and-wife hit team? Oh, yes.
The family that slays together stays together, eh? Come on.
Out this way.
Where have you been, boss? - I need you to check out- - Listen.
I may be out of line, and if so I still have an I.
R.
S.
pension coming but when you left me hung out to dry with that bureau pip I felt like a discarded piñata.
And he was batting me all over the place.
- Mildred, I apologize, but it was for a worthy cause.
Please.
- I should hope so because Mr.
Bergman called and insisted you come down and answer some questions at 4:00 sharp, and he wasn't asking either.
- Where's Miss Holt? - Mexico City.
What? What in bloody hell is she doing in Mexico City? - Beats me.
- I mean, I'm out there sidestepping bullets trying to find out who shot her, trying to save her agency.
Her agency? Yes.
Uh- Merely a figure of speech.
I mean, one for all, all for one.
Esprit de corps.
Semper fidelis.
You'd better hurry, boss.
You don't want to be late.
First I want you to get that computer to spew out everything it's got on someone named Jack Prince.
- But, boss- - Listen.
Don't worry about the licensing board.
It's merely a formality.
I assure you.
I shall straighten everything out.
Okay? Okay.
Okay.
You've been awfully quiet for some time, Miss Holt.
Have you run out of questions for me to avoid? Would you, uh, excuse me for a moment, please? I have to use the ladies' room.
By all means.
Gracias.
"Mucho"gracias.
Gracias.
Mucho gracias.
Jefferson's gone.
- Where? - He was transferred to Los Angeles yesterday.
You won't be heartbroken if I don't believe you.
Senora Gomez has the file.
How's your Spanish? Better than my German.
Por favor, Señor ScottJefferson.
ScottJefferson? fue transferido a Los Angeles.
Uh- The order was signed by a Dr.
Herbert Sanderly.
After 10 years, Jefferson's suddenly transferred? I'm getting tired of all these coincidences.
- May I, uh- - Oh, sí.
Yes.
Uh, may I have, uh, the aeropuerto, please? Don't tell me.
You want to know when the next flight to Los Angeles leaves.
Sí.
Hola.
Gracias.
Not till morning, I'm afraid.
Uh- Uh- Uh- Ha-Hablas inglés, please? Great.
Great.
Listen.
Can you tell me- I need to know when the earliest flight back to Lo- Los Angeles.
Gracias.
Mucho gracias.
Hey.
You're probably not going to believe this either but I know a great little Chinese restaurant right around here.
I am so sorry to keep you waiting.
That's one thing I dislike about this profession.
You never know what's gonna come up next.
You can scarcely plan things in advance.
Is that a fact? Yes.
Sometimes it's absolutely intolerable.
Now, if we can, uh, scurry things along a bit.
I'm pressed for time.
Yes.
Well, uh, Mr.
Steele, I've got good news for you.
You do? Yes, I do.
I'm going to fix it so that you've got all the time in the world.
You are? I am officially notifying you that, as of this moment the State Board of Investigative Licensing is suspending your agency's license until further notice.
Any cases you or your operatives are currently working on you are hereby ordered to cease and desist or face criminal charges.
In other words, Mr.
Steele you're out of business.
Hello, Mildred? Oh, Miss Holt.
I'm so glad you called.
But I don't think you're gonna be.
I can't hear.
Can- Can you speak up, Mildred? It's terrible, Miss Holt.
It's just terrible.
They've taken our license away! What? Who did? Oh, that licensing bum I told you about.
They're confiscating our files right now! - Where's Mr.
Steele? - I don't know.
I haven't seen him since he went down to the hearing to straighten everything out.
Are you telling me that Mr.
Steele- - Oh! I can't talk anymore.
- Why not? They want to padlock the office.
I got us two rooms.
Miss Holt? - Miss Holt? - I leave the office for less than 24 hours and suddenly all hell breaks loose.
Oh, that man! What could I have possibly been thinking about all this time? Why have I stuck it out for so long? Boy, have I been kidding myself.
- Who are we talking- - That agency means everything to me.
How could I let him do this? - Your boss, hmm? - Ha! Are we talking more than just a professional relationship? Ah, who knows anymore? I mean, one minute there is, the next there isn't.
Up and down.
Up and down.
You need a bloody elevator to keep track of all the ups and downs.
I'm sorry about this, William.
- I'm not.
- Why not? Because that's the first time you've called me William.
I just- I shouldn't be laying all this on you.
Hey.
It's okay.
I like to listen.
You know, I've never actually met the man but everything I've read about him makes me envious.
He's naturally dashing, adventurous, outgoing- Irresponsible, devious, enigmatic.
While I, on the other hand, have always been described as a nice, successful slightly introverted guy who happens to believe in the good old-fashioned Protestant work ethic.
Hey.
What's funny? I don't know.
It's- It's just that that's the way I've always been described.
A match made in heaven.
- Hey.
You're shivering.
- Am I? Well - I guess it is a little chilly out.
- Yeah.
Here.
Thanks.
Think nothing of it, Miss Holt.
Laura.
Lovely morning, isn't it? Nothing like a brisk jog to stimulate the senses.
- Do I know you? - I know you.
Jack Prince.
Self-made millionaire.
String of shopping centers.
Oil wells.
How else does one put it? Uh- Extraordinary political connections.
- Yeah? And what business are you in? - Me? Oh, I'm retired.
- Retired, huh? - For about 14 hours now.
The name's Steele.
Remington Steele.
Well, now, Mr.
Steele.
Isn't this a coincidence? You're awfully chipper considering your stripes have been taken away.
- I see good news travels fast.
- Let's cut through the bull.
Oh, colorfully put, Jack.
Well, getting to the point your hired gun and his enchanting wife and I had- what shall we say- a little soiree yesterday.
What the hell are you talking about? You hired them to shoot at Miss Holt.
That's what, mate.
- And you're crazy, and I'm bored.
- Not so fast.
- What do you think you're doin'? - Making a citizen's arrest.
You hired someone to take a shot at Miss Holt, and you wanted that someone to miss.
Now, I want to know why.
- This is ridiculous.
- Believe me.
If I could do it alone, I would.
- Uh-uh.
I want to be there when you question Jefferson.
- You might not like the answers.
Oh, are you still suspicious, Miss Holt? Laura.
And yes, I am.
- It'll never work.
- You've got the easy part.
All you have to do is growl.
- What's his problem? - I don't analyze 'em.
I just deliver 'em.
- Who's the admitting physician? - Dr.
Herbert Sanderly.
He wants him with the other patient he just had admitted.
Johnson? The guy that came in yesterday from Mexico.
Yeah.
Johnson.
But he's in the lock ward.
This guy doesn't look like he needs something that severe.
Hey.
Ours is not to reason why.
He just said stick him with Johnson.
I better double-check.
Obviously the doc knows what he wants.
Will you just please put him where he wants him? Take this guy up to the lock ward.
Room 7.
Dr.
Herbert Sanderly, please.
Meadow Wood Sanitarium calling.
Better get some Thorazine.
Twenty-five mil.
When those straps come off, this baby goes wild.
That's right.
- Watch the door.
- Right.
Mr.
Jefferson.
Scott.
My name is Laura Holt and I need to ask you some very important questions.
It's about what happened SenatorJefferson, and that terrible fire.
When you were in Mexico did you tell anyone what you knew about that fire? - Laura, what are you doing here? - Wrapping up our last case.
Odd.
That's what I'm doing.
- You're gonna be astounded by what I've learned.
- I doubt that.
Nothing you do these days astounds me.
How was Mexico? How was the licensing board hearing? Gentlemen, we're here to present you with the results of our background check on William Westfield.
Pardon me, Miss Holt, but I understand you and Mr.
Steele are no longer accredited private investigators.
We are merely completing the job you hired us to do when we did have our license.
You'll be happy to know that Mr.
Westfield is as clean as a proverbial whistle.
Oh, that is good news.
You, on the other hand, Mr.
Erhart, are as dirty as they come.
I beg your pardon? Uh, Miss Holt, you're accusing the w- After Mr.
Westfield informed you that he had found ScottJefferson in Cancún you were the one who had him moved to Mexico City.
That's a lie! An outrageous lie! Then you went to Mexico City, and you tookJefferson's deposition.
You are the one whose career is built on bodies, Mr.
Erhart.
Then when I started getting close to the truth you sent someone out to kill me! Excellent work, Miss Holt.
Excellent work.
There's just one slight adjustment to be made to your otherwise flawless presentation.
- Kendall is the one who had you shot at.
- Kendall? - What are you talking about? - Yes.
What are you talking about? Your protégé, Jack Prince, wanted in on this- this, uh, illustrious power circle.
So the two of you conspired together to cause Mr.
Erhart's fall from grace.
- That's the most illogical babble I've ever heard.
- You propo- You proposed William Westfield as your candidate for senator knowing full well that a thorough investigation would ultimately lead to Mr.
Erhart's closet full of skeletons.
That doesn't make any sense.
Someone tried to kill me- obviously to stop the investigation.
Actually, the gunman was paid to miss you.
Another little added incentive to keep you on Jefferson's trail.
Hmm? - Uh, Mr.
Steele, Miss Holt- - Just a moment.
We're caucusing.
If that's true, why would Kendall have our license pulled? I'm afraid I haven't figured that one out yet.
- Unless- - Mm-hmm? It was you who had our license suspended, Mr.
Erhart.
It's a shrewd way to keep us from being able to find Jefferson.
Good Lord.
They're coming at us from all directions.
Well.
That's quite a story.
Either of you have any proof? ScottJefferson's signed statement implicating you, Mr.
Erhart.
Tough luck, Horton.
And this is a signed statement from Jack Prince implicating you, Kendall.
Tough luck,J.
W.
Good Lord.
I've heard about politics making strange bedfellows but this is the most arcane, byzantine bunch I've ever seen.
You forgot to mention Machiavellian.
Purely unintentional.
You know, I, uh, took the opportunity of looking over some of your old case reports.
And, uh, I must admit.
You used quite a bit of creativity in putting them together.
That was before you were you.
I still had to keep alive the illusion that there really was a Remington Steele.
Yes.
Well, uh- Uh, despite all that I don't think we're gonna have any trouble in getting our license restored.
Not having it has, uh given me time to think.
About what? Is that piece of paper the only thing that's keeping us together? Do we really have anything else in common besides this agency? Laura, if you're talking about my allergy to legwork- No.
It's got nothing to do with that.
Don't you see? I mean losing our license may be the very best thing that ever happened to us.
Maybe, uh, it'll give us time to- to think about how we really feel towards each other outside work.
All we've ever done is- is play trial and error with our personal relationship as we try to- to squeeze it into our professional one.
Are you saying it hasn't worked? Are you saying it has? Well, perhaps not consistently, but- All I'm suggesting is that maybe we, uh take some time to think about it for a while.
That's all.
- What are you doing? Wait a minute! - Come here! Horton Erhart must have awfully big pockets because that's- that's where he keeps you, isn't it? So, it won't be too difficult to prove that we had our license suspended.
Now, perhaps you've noticed.
I'm not a very patient man these days and I don't want to have to sit through any hearings or petitions or motions.
Huh? Do you like the movies, Mr.
Bergman? I mean the Disney movies, for instance.
You don't have to say anything.
Just nod your head.
I'll get the message.
Good.
Good.
Because you and I are gonna play a little scene from one of those fine family films in which you play the good fairy who's gonna grant me three wishes.
One.
I want you to confess, in writing that Horton Erhart paid you to pull our license.
Two.
I'm gonna make damn sure that I get that license before I leave.
And three.
You're gonna allow me to escort you to the police station so you can turn yourself in.
What do you think of it so far, huh? Well, I was beginning to think I was gonna have to eat in that Chinese restaurant all by myself.
- I'm here, aren't I? - Well, I'll drink to that.
Are you okay? Oh, dear.
William I don't know how to tell you this but you were only chosen to run for senator because somebody wanted me to sink Horton Erhart's ship.
They knew that checking into your background would ultimately lead to ScottJefferson.
Hmm.
Well, look on the bright side.
If it hadn't been for all that, we might never have met.
You really are something very special.
So are you.
Laura? - Where are you going? - I'm sorry, William but I can't go through with it.
- I'm sorry.
- What happened? Is it me? No.
No.
Of course not.
You're the reason I've come this far.
But- Well, I care very much for someone who I think cares very much for me, and- and even though we can't figure out a way to make it work I can't really leave until I'm sure there's no reason to stay.
You understand? No.
Not really.
That's okay.
As long as I do.
Thanks.
Home, Fred.
Mr.
Steele? Hello? Mr.
Steele? Mr.
Steele? Oh.