Magnum, P.I. (1980) s06e12 Episode Script
I Never Wanted to Go to France, Anyway
Welcome to the carnival.
You must be my new roustabouts.
This carnival isn't safe anymore.
Gus the Geek.
Subhuman.
I haven't written a paycheck in three weeks.
Take it easy.
Hey.
The carnival is over.
Congratulations, kid.
That was quite extraordinary.
A walk in the park.
Thank your buddy up there, okay? Of course.
Better take a rest, Robin.
You're on again at 3:00.
Right.
See ya, Inky.
Mr.
Higgins.
Mikey.
Robin.
Thanks a lot, Higgo.
You made this gig go with a real bang.
Here, I brought you a little something.
Please, it was the least I could do, Walter.
Walter? I haven't heard that since North Africa, 1942.
That's right.
Open it up later.
Well, Mr.
Janes.
What do ya think? I think my company is lucky to have your carnival, Mr.
Gilbert.
It hope it will be a profitable situation for both of us.
Don't you worry about the profits.
We'll bring in the audience, I guarantee it.
Why, we broke all house records on Guam.
You should've Hey, great flying.
You didn't miss.
Quite.
Well done, T.
C.
A real good piece of work.
Thank you.
But somehow, I must admit, I felt more comfortable flying and being shot at at the same time.
Magic to Worthy, inside to Kareem, back to Scott, drives, dishes off to Kareem.
Slam dunk! Length of the court to Parrish, to Bird, to McHale, to Johnson, back to Ainge.
Twenty-footer, no good! Rambis rebound! He is butchered.
Magnum.
Look at Rambis, he is hot under the collar.
He's pulling his glasses back, adjusting those.
Don't Don't ever do that again, Higgins.
I'm sorry, Magnum.
What is it? You so excited about going on all those neat rides, you forgot to knock? You got cotton candy stuck on your cheek? What is it? T.
C? T.
C.
's fine.
The stunt went off without a hitch.
The girl was murdered five minutes later.
I am asking for your assistance.
What about the police? They're investigating.
Did you know this girl? Only briefly.
But I do know Walter, Inky, Gilbert.
I must help him.
We had had no sleep in 72 hours.
The shelling was incessant and unrelenting.
We were pinned down by heavy machine gun fire.
Suffice it to say, Magnum, I owe Inky Gilbert and his brother, Donald, two Americans who were attached to our unit, a great debt.
Higgins, soldiers saving other soldiers' lives is a common occurrence.
We've both Yes, but, in the course of this incident, Inky lost his brother.
I'd like to help him.
I'd like for you to help him.
You will, of course, be compensated.
Well, that's not really the point, Higgins.
The police Are conducting an investigation.
Meanwhile, the adverse publicity surrounding this tragedy could cause Inky Gilbert to lose his contract with Mike Janes Amusements.
It could break him.
Magnum, I implore you.
Please help.
This feels great! We're also gonna have to work here, Rick.
I don't care.
For the first time in your life, you've done me a favor.
This one's for Higgins.
Yeah, maybe, but Hey, can I have a cotton candy, please? Rick Thomas, please, the carnival's always been my first love.
I ran away with one when I was 14 years old and I was gone for three weeks.
When my old man finally got me, man, I couldn't sit down for a month.
I mean, I couldn't eat anything but vanilla milk shakes and tomato soup.
Then I ran away with the circus Did I ever tell you this before? Hey, that's my cotton candy.
Come in.
Mr.
Gilbert.
Welcome.
You must be my new roustabouts.
Yep.
Which one's the P.
I.
? Thomas Magnum.
Rick Wright.
You know, I ran away with a carnival once.
I was 14 years old.
I was gone for three weeks.
Rick When my old man got me, man, I couldn't Rick That's all right.
I still feel I'm 14 years old, too.
There's got to be a little boy inside you to stay in this racket.
God knows it isn't going to be around long.
The carnivals that crisscross this country, playing the country fairs and revivals, are soon gonna be a thing of the past.
A dying piece of Americana.
The midway and the sideshow are being replaced by the computer arcade and the cheap horror films that are churned out every five minutes and don't leave anything to the imagination.
The mind.
The kid in all of us.
I don't know, maybe America's grown out of us.
Maybe the little boy grew up too fast.
He blinks his eyes and he becomes a lawyer or a computer operator or a bank teller.
We carnies just try to get by.
And we try to reach out to the kid out there.
I'm glad we reached you.
What happens if you don't reach that kid out there? Then I sell out lock, stock and barrel to Mike Janes and his modern, "today's" operation.
And we become a quaint historical footnote, a sanitized piece of trivia.
I don't want that to happen to my people.
They're loyal, and most of them have been with me for a long time, but they've got to eat.
I haven't written a paycheck in three weeks.
And unless you guys find out who did that to poor Robin, God rest her soul, I'll never write another one.
Rick may have felt nine years old again, but somehow I found that a little bit difficult.
Because even when I was nine years old and my grandpa took me to the carnival at the county fair, I found myself asking too many questions.
Questions like, in the basketball shooting concession, why was the ball pumped so full of air that it would bounce off the too-small rim and there goes your quarter? Or why did the beautiful blonde lady in the dollar-a-kiss booth smell like a distillery from 20 feet away? Or how come the biggest stuffed animals you could possibly win in the shooting gallery always had an inch of dust on them? And now, a lot of years later, who would want to make a murder part of the sideshow? Hello? Hey, take it easy.
Sorry, I'm a little on edge.
You're the P.
I.
? Yeah.
Except it's Private Investigator, and I'm supposed to be undercover.
Daddy's got a big mouth.
Audrey Gilbert.
Inky's little girl.
Aka "Sparky The Clown" and midway manager.
Nice meeting you.
How many other people know why I'm here? Just me and Inky.
Honest.
How can I help you? Well, tell me about Robin.
Boyfriends? Enemies? Debts? None of the above.
Everybody liked Robin and Robin liked everybody back.
Been with us for two years.
Joined us in Stockton when she ran away from home.
Can't think of a damn thing anybody would have against her.
What about that knife thrower? The Indian? The Chief? Audrey, Audrey.
Yeah, him.
Who is he? This is Thomas Magnum.
Inky just hired him as the new roustabout.
I was going over the ropes with him.
Hi, guy.
White Deer has left.
What do you mean, left? She quit.
She was tired of not getting paid.
She left me for a Portuguese restaurant.
Who am I gonna use in the act tomorrow? Tell me? Who? Don't you worry, Chief.
We will find you another assistant.
I promise.
Someone as fearless as White Deer? Never.
You've gotta forgive him.
He's had a rough couple of days.
The police have really grilled him on account of the fact that the murder weapon was one of his knives.
See, the case where he keeps them was broken into.
Of course, the weapon didn't have his prints on it, but nevertheless, it's a matter of pride with him.
He swore he'd kill the person who did it.
I believe him.
What exactly does a roustabout do? Okay.
Do you know what a mop and broom are? Somehow it wasn't necessary to have a Tower Of Terror to get good and scared.
That's because most of the people I talked to today were already half there.
Not me.
Oh, I know what you're thinking.
That's because I was thinking it, too.
I was becoming overly paranoid.
After all, the Tower Of Terror was nothing more than just a bunch of papier-maché goblins and screechy sound effects.
Wouldn't have bothered me nor Gramps one bit.
Boo! Easy, fella.
Come on, I just work here.
Cleaning up.
Damn rats.
Scared you, didn't I? Scared me? Well, you woke me up.
It's getting so a man can't get a sound sleep around here.
Excuse me.
Who are you? Thomas Magnum.
Inky hired me and a friend of mine as roustabouts.
Oh, he did, huh? The name's Gus Zimmer.
Known professionally as Gus the Geek.
I'm sorry I frightened you.
Here, let me help you clean up.
Oh, thanks.
You done much carnie work before? Well, I've done a lot of mopping.
Are you a Navy man? Yeah.
I was in the Army myself, about a million years ago.
Hey, look, I know it's my job during business hours and everything, but I really wasn't trying to make you sick.
It's just that it's the only place where I can catch a few winks without people bothering me, and I don't have to wear the mask.
And what with everything that's been going on here, I guess I'm just as nervous as everybody else.
Robin? Yeah.
Surprised anybody took this job knowing what's going on.
It ain't only Robin, though.
There's been other deaths? Did I say that? No, I didn't say that.
I said there's been a lot of bad stuff going on lately.
That guy in San Diego had his back broken when the whirl-a-way collapsed on him.
Darn thing had just passed a safety inspection, too.
Then our concession lady, Marge, had to have her stomach pumped out when she ate one of her own chili dogs.
Somebody might have put some arsenic into her chili.
She's gone.
I'll tell you, life is tough even if you don't weaken.
I've been with this carnival for I used to be the ringmaster before the accident.
I used to talk a lot.
Now I don't get to say much.
All I get to do is make a few weird noises.
Three times a day.
Gus the Geek.
Subhuman.
What happened? There was a fire in Decatur, in '61.
There were some kids.
I got them out.
That was when I got to be the Geek.
Can't blame Inky any, though.
He's always been real good to me.
He's kept me on here through thick and thin, good times and bad, and I'd go right to the end with him.
I just hope it doesn't come too soon.
There's not much of a retirement program for geeks.
I'll get the rat.
Needless to say, I didn't get a great night's sleep.
Jumbled, distorted images of devils with pitchforks and ugly green monsters and chili dogs that came alive totally routed the poor little sheep I was trying to count.
They didn't have a chance.
And with all the information I had gotten yesterday, I was wondering if Inky Gilbert's carnival did, either.
What time is it? It's 6:00 in the morning.
What's the matter with you? Matter? Matter? Nothing's the matter.
I love being scared awake.
After all, we're at a carnival, aren't we? There's nothing like a 6:00 a.
m.
thrill to kick off the old adrenaline.
What are you doing? I've been out all night investigating while you've been sleeping.
Well, you didn't have to clean out the Tower of Terror or the Tunnel of Love.
Do you want to know what I found out or not? What did you find out? Nothing, but Nothing concrete.
But I think I'm onto something.
It was that Indian Chief's knife that was used in the murder, right? So I decided to check him out.
I followed him all night long, because he was yelling and screaming, and running inside and outside of everybody's tents and trailers.
And then he'd sneak up behind some of the other guys and he'd just watch them.
And then comes the weird part.
What weird part? It was a full moon last night, right? This guy goes behind the amusement park sits down on the grass, looks up at the moon Are you ready for this? And starts singing opera.
I'm convinced he's our guy.
Because he was singing opera? He was near the tent when Robin Guthrie got it.
Well, so were a dozen other people.
And they didn't see a thing.
They were too busy watching the stunt.
Rick, just 'cause this guy sings opera to the full moon doesn't mean he's our killer.
It's a lead.
What do you got? Nothing.
Oh.
Except a lot of talk about mysterious accidents.
I mean, this is the worst kind of case, Rick.
There's nothing to go on.
You just gotta You gotta kind of blend in and get familiar with people till they trust you.
And then, maybe then, somebody will let something slip, and you got them.
It's called deep cover.
We could be here for a long time.
That's great.
Except Inky Gilbert doesn't have a long time.
I know.
What do you got in mind? Well, we accelerate the process.
We take control.
How? No, wait a second.
Where are you going? We're history, Inky.
We're gone.
No, no! No, No.
You can't leave, you can't.
We are, and you can't stop us.
But why? Because we gotta eat.
Yeah, and buy some razor blades.
But, guys, what about the show? Chris, we're family.
A broken family, Inky.
I'll get the money, I promise.
It's not just the money.
This carnival isn't safe anymore.
We don't want to go, but this is the way it's gotta be.
Goodbye, Inky.
Please don't leave.
Chris, Charles.
It won't be like Hackensack.
There go a lot of suspects, Thomas.
Hey, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
This is great, this is just great.
Hey, Gilbert.
Mike Janes Amusements has a contract with the Inky Gilbert Carnival.
Now, apparently, there isn't one.
The hell there isn't.
How so? You just open the gates at 11:00, Mr.
Janes.
The show will go on.
This I gotta see.
Is he a man or is he an animal? A mere four bits will let you decide for yourself.
See the Geek drink human blood.
Will his animal thirst ever be quenched? See what happens when live rodents are unleashed in his cage.
The Geek! The Geek! The Geek! Come on.
Step up, step up, step up.
There's fun for everyone.
I've had enough of this.
Come on, where's all your carnie spirit? Where's your leads? And what about accelerating the process? I have a new theory.
Yeah, what's that? The who-stands-to-gain the-most if-Inky-goes-under theory.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! We're saved! Daddy, what are you talking about? The Inky Gilbert Traveling Carnival lives! Daddy, I know we did well, but we can't keep up this kind of effort unless we're at full strength.
We are, or we will be.
After I hire everybody back tomorrow morning.
Ladies and gentlemen, your paychecks.
So much for my new theory.
But out of its ashes grew another.
Admittedly, sneaking into the office of your own client wasn't the most exemplary of private investigative techniques.
But then again, when you're out of leads, being exemplary isn't as important as getting to the truth.
No matter where it may lie.
Hello, Magnum.
Going through the books? I see you met Waldo.
Say hello, Waldo.
"Hi, Magnum.
"Find anything interesting?" Yes, I did.
Let me guess.
You couldn't find anything concrete about Robin's murder, so your untrusting mind began searching for other motives.
The non-emotional kind, the baser kind.
Like economics.
Sure, you'd heard about the accidents and misfortunes I've been having.
So you began to wonder, "Hey, maybe old Inky's making some dough on the deal.
"He can't be making any money out of this third-rate carnival.
"Maybe he's trying to get it out of the insurance companies.
"How's he doing?" You're doing wonderfully.
Keep going.
I will, son.
I will.
But here's where your suspicious little mind and reality part company.
I don't get a red cent for any of those accidents.
All I got were higher premiums, substantially higher.
I'm dying here, Magnum, and you're trying to shovel dirt on the coffin before it's even in the ground.
It's good thinking, though.
I've got to admire you in a strange sort of way.
Higgins was right.
He sent the best.
He said that? The best? You gotta know how to read him.
Are you all finished here? So we can get some sleep and start all over again tomorrow morning? Oh, just a minute.
You can help me fix King Arthur's iron mace in the Wax Museum.
Just a second, Inky.
I'm not finished here yet.
How about explaining the $10,000 cash deposit in the carnival account? Maybe I've got a silent partner.
You're grasping at straws, Magnum.
And I guess I appreciate it, but where I got that money is of no concern to you and has absolutely nothing to do with Robin Guthrie's death.
I promise.
Oh, my God.
I'll call an ambulance.
Rick? Call the police.
We should have never come back.
The Chief's dead.
I think Rick's alive.
Hey.
My God, Magnum, you've got the wrong bloody clown.
Rick? Rick? What? How do you feel? That's a dumb question.
How would you feel if someone hit you over the head with a hammer? I feel like garbage.
Who's your friend? It's just Higgins.
Did you get a look at the guy who did this to you? No.
I was following my suspect.
The Chief? Yeah, the Chief.
He was carrying one of his knives and heading towards the Wax Museum.
So I followed him inside.
It was all dark, and then What? I don't know.
What did you see? I saw a Fourth of July fireworks show and a million little angels singing in my head.
And I guess that's when he hit me.
The Chief? Who else? Chief's dead, Rick.
Oh.
Good night.
All right.
Why were you there? And why are you dressed up in this stupid suit? What I was doing there should be obvious, even to you.
I was attempting to assist.
By lurking and skulking in the shadows of the midway? That's my job.
At which you were not being entirely successful.
Magnum, I was only trying to help.
I don't need your help.
Inky Gilbert does.
Oh, great.
Coming from a guy in a clown suit? Come on, Higgins, I gotta do this my way.
While the body count rises.
Higgins.
Obviously, the Chief had a very strong notion of who Robin Guthrie's murderer was.
Well, I'm beginning to think I do, too.
Who? Possibly Inky Gilbert.
That is the most baseless and absurd statement I've ever heard you make.
Rick was hit over the head.
What's your excuse? No excuses.
Higgins, you've got to consider the possibility.
Look, before we found Rick and the Chief, Inky caught me in his office going through his books.
You were what? Higgins, you look terrible.
Why were you going through Inky's books? I'll get to that.
The point is that Inky walked in with a big monkey wrench, a nice blunt instrument.
He said he was doing some repair work in the Wax Museum.
So Inky killed the Chief and attempted to do the same to Rick? That is conjecture at its most flimsy.
Indeed, libelous.
Damn it, Higgins, he had a motive.
What motive? Money.
What, insurance? No, not insurance.
He told me the truth about that.
But I found out from Inky's books that if the carnival goes under, there's a sweet buyout clause from Mike Janes Amusements.
Inky would never give up the carnival.
It's his Life.
Yeah, I know.
Spare me that "one big happy family" stuff.
As of this moment, you are off the case.
No, I'm not.
What if they gave a carnival and nobody came? I guess everybody moves on, leaving behind a lot of dreams and illusions and sticky candy wrappers.
But in this case there's also left behind the rather sticky matter of two dead bodies and one potentially ruined friendship.
But despite that, I wasn't going anywhere.
Hey.
That costs money, pal.
But then, it's not gonna make much difference, anyway.
What do you mean? We'll all be gone soon.
I think you just won yourself a stuffed dinosaur.
Hell, we're living in one.
Inky wants to see you.
I'll take care of this here.
Yeah? Oh.
I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go, Magnum.
We're closing tomorrow night.
Courtesy of Mr.
Janes.
I'm not a roustabout, remember? I've got another job to do and I'm not quite finished yet.
Oh, yes, you are.
Higgins called this morning.
This is per him.
You're out of here as of now.
The police will continue their investigation.
And so will I.
Not in my carnival.
Not while I still have it.
Read the back of your ticket, the part where I've got the right to refuse admission to anyone.
It's not gonna be that easy, Inky.
My friend was hurt, too.
Save me the cheap melodramatics.
I feel as bad about Rick as you do.
And I feel a whole lot worse about Robin and the Chief, but this is the first fight of my life I've ever lost.
And the lousy thing about it is I'm beginning to get used to it.
I'm also beginning to get used to the fact that these murders were committed solely to drive me out of business.
And if you were such a great detective, perhaps that's where you should've started, instead of me and my people.
You're talking about Janes? I ain't naming names.
I checked Janes out.
He's got an airtight alibi, and if you want to talk about motive, he doesn't have one.
He's gonna lose money with this carnival.
Just like me.
Only I'm gonna lose a lot more.
Now get out of here, Magnum, there's enough buzzards around and the air stinks.
A good friendship is usually a difficult entity to maintain.
There's got to be a commonality of interests, an enjoyment of each other's company, and an appreciation of the other's differences.
But if those items don't really exist in large quantities, there has to be an underlying basis of honesty and truth.
But maybe this time the truth was something Higgins didn't want to see because of his friendship with Inky.
But because of my friendship with Higgins, it was something he had to see.
Higgins.
I want to apologize for yelling at you last night at the hospital.
I understand the bond that you and Inky share, and I appreciate what it means, and I appreciate your loyalty to him.
Oh, yeah, I found out from a friend of T.
C.
's at the bank that the money that's been keeping the carnival and Inky afloat's from you.
Converted pounds sterling from your British bank.
But, Higgins, you can't judge a man by one incident in his life.
You have to look at the whole picture, the essence of who he is.
Now, damn it, Higgins, maybe Inky doesn't even want your money, or my help, or the carnival's.
Have you ever considered that? Maybe all he wants is out.
All I'm saying is, I think we should find out.
Your passion for the truth is commendable, Magnum.
And, yes, I do appreciate that.
But, ultimately, it is misguided.
Why? Because Inky Gilbert was just found strangled to death in his office.
I'm sorry, Higgins.
I know that doesn't mean a whole lot right now.
Magnum, your words are unnecessary.
I do understand how you feel.
Do you? Inky told me you said you were sending him the best.
Except maybe I should have been a little quicker, too.
At the moment, postmortems and self-recrimination are irrelevant.
This is not self-recrimination.
It's not a postmortem.
It's finished.
No, it isn't.
Why go back? Inky's dead, the carnival is over.
I'm not going to the carnival, not just yet.
But I am going back.
Where? I'm going to the one place and the one time you've never mentioned in all your ramblings or your memoirs.
North Africa, August of '42.
Chris, Charles.
Is Gus still around? Where is he gonna go? Gus is inside.
Thanks.
Good luck.
Thanks.
There's something disturbing and sad when you see something out of its normal element.
Like a fish helplessly thrashing on the deck of a boat, or those carnies who have no idea that there's another world out there, or much less have the ability to cope in it.
But at least they made the choice.
Somehow, I had the feeling that Gus Zimmer didn't have those kind of options.
And when you're out of options, you can either cry for help, or blow sky high.
Maybe I should have heard Gus's cry for help, but there were so many other voices.
Inky's, Higgins', the Chief's, Mike Janes', Audrey's.
But I was listening now.
I only hoped it wasn't too late.
Are you looking for something? Not anymore.
I found what I'm looking for.
You're in my stuff.
Yeah, I was, Donald.
The name's Gus.
Not 44 years ago, it wasn't.
Forty-four years ago in North Africa, it was Donald.
When you and your brother were fighting next to an Englishman named Jonathan Quayle Higgins.
That's where you got burned.
There was no fire in Decatur, no kids.
The hell there wasn't.
The firemen gave me a commendation.
It's right here somewhere.
Oh, I don't think so.
Probably some kind of clerical error, right? Some harried medic buries the real Gus Zimmer under your name.
The name that's on this Purple Heart, your dog tags.
Donald Gilbert.
Why'd you do it? Why? You're asking me why? There's enough light here.
Take a good look.
I had a fiancée and a job to come back to.
When I took the bandages off and looked in the mirror, I knew it was never gonna happen.
I didn't want to put anyone through the grief of having to look at me and smile and try to be brave and try to keep from throwing up at the same time.
So it turned out to be a whole lot better for me just to be Gus Zimmer.
No hassles.
No pity.
Just a bunch of sawdust and cheap laughs.
You should've seen the look on Inky's face when I showed up a few years later.
Back from the dead.
I'll say this for him, though, he was a good brother.
He took care of me.
No questions asked.
Then why'd you kill him? Who says I killed him? The buyout clause in Inky's contract with Mike Janes Amusements.
Gus Zimmer gets the payoff in the event of Inky's death.
You're the silent partner.
Now, what would a geek want with money? Well, maybe some kind of real life.
Some kind of life where you don't have to drool and moan and chase live rats around three times a day.
Some kind of life where you can rent an apartment, watch TV, pretend you're just like everybody else.
You wanted out, Donald.
You started with the accidents, trying to get Inky to sell.
But Inky was tough, and you escalated.
You didn't have to kill.
How do you know that? You're a pretty good guesser, but you don't know what it's really like.
And unless you swallow a bucketful of fire trying to save some berserk lunatic someday, you never will.
What are you saying? Higgins? No, not Higgins.
My brother, Inky.
He snapped.
He was too tired or too crazy, I don't know.
But he snapped.
He took off running straight at an enemy machine-gun nest.
Blazing away, and I had to get him out.
But instead of him ending up the dead hero, I got to be it.
Where was Higgins? He was holding his position.
He was following orders.
He was doing exactly what he was supposed to do.
Maybe he doesn't think so.
Who cares? It doesn't matter anymore.
It's over.
It's all over now.
Tell me something.
How did you get a fix on me? Was it the buyout clause? No.
I don't know, you just shot that rifle too damn good.
Come on, let's go.
Where? Find some people who can help you.
Me included.
Thomas.
Don't.
Stay right there.
I may be ugly, I may be crazy, but I'm not going to no hospital.
Where are you going? France.
One million dollars and a plane to France? That guy is crazy.
We'll just extradite him.
I know that.
And more importantly, he knows that.
But you gotta go through the motions.
The man has nothing to lose.
That's impossible.
I'm moving in.
You move in, and he kills Audrey Gilbert.
Now, look, he gave you an hour.
Give me 10 minutes.
I can't.
You know that.
I know that place.
I've cleaned it often enough.
Let me try, please.
I gotta look over the blueprints of the building.
Talk to me in 15 minutes.
Magnum.
What is the status of the operation? The status is I'm gonna go in there and try and get Audrey out.
I'm going with you.
No.
I must.
Please understand, Magnum.
I have my reasons.
I know what they are, Higgins.
And I do understand.
You did the right thing Do the right thing now.
Please, please, give me the gun.
Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you.
Why are you doing this? 'Cause I want people to remember who I was.
Let her go, Donald.
Come on.
Sure.
No problem.
Go ahead.
Why don't you just put that gun away? No! I never wanted to go to France, anyway.
The front, run to the front! Donald! Why? For all of us, come.
Magnum.
Higgins.
You must be my new roustabouts.
This carnival isn't safe anymore.
Gus the Geek.
Subhuman.
I haven't written a paycheck in three weeks.
Take it easy.
Hey.
The carnival is over.
Congratulations, kid.
That was quite extraordinary.
A walk in the park.
Thank your buddy up there, okay? Of course.
Better take a rest, Robin.
You're on again at 3:00.
Right.
See ya, Inky.
Mr.
Higgins.
Mikey.
Robin.
Thanks a lot, Higgo.
You made this gig go with a real bang.
Here, I brought you a little something.
Please, it was the least I could do, Walter.
Walter? I haven't heard that since North Africa, 1942.
That's right.
Open it up later.
Well, Mr.
Janes.
What do ya think? I think my company is lucky to have your carnival, Mr.
Gilbert.
It hope it will be a profitable situation for both of us.
Don't you worry about the profits.
We'll bring in the audience, I guarantee it.
Why, we broke all house records on Guam.
You should've Hey, great flying.
You didn't miss.
Quite.
Well done, T.
C.
A real good piece of work.
Thank you.
But somehow, I must admit, I felt more comfortable flying and being shot at at the same time.
Magic to Worthy, inside to Kareem, back to Scott, drives, dishes off to Kareem.
Slam dunk! Length of the court to Parrish, to Bird, to McHale, to Johnson, back to Ainge.
Twenty-footer, no good! Rambis rebound! He is butchered.
Magnum.
Look at Rambis, he is hot under the collar.
He's pulling his glasses back, adjusting those.
Don't Don't ever do that again, Higgins.
I'm sorry, Magnum.
What is it? You so excited about going on all those neat rides, you forgot to knock? You got cotton candy stuck on your cheek? What is it? T.
C? T.
C.
's fine.
The stunt went off without a hitch.
The girl was murdered five minutes later.
I am asking for your assistance.
What about the police? They're investigating.
Did you know this girl? Only briefly.
But I do know Walter, Inky, Gilbert.
I must help him.
We had had no sleep in 72 hours.
The shelling was incessant and unrelenting.
We were pinned down by heavy machine gun fire.
Suffice it to say, Magnum, I owe Inky Gilbert and his brother, Donald, two Americans who were attached to our unit, a great debt.
Higgins, soldiers saving other soldiers' lives is a common occurrence.
We've both Yes, but, in the course of this incident, Inky lost his brother.
I'd like to help him.
I'd like for you to help him.
You will, of course, be compensated.
Well, that's not really the point, Higgins.
The police Are conducting an investigation.
Meanwhile, the adverse publicity surrounding this tragedy could cause Inky Gilbert to lose his contract with Mike Janes Amusements.
It could break him.
Magnum, I implore you.
Please help.
This feels great! We're also gonna have to work here, Rick.
I don't care.
For the first time in your life, you've done me a favor.
This one's for Higgins.
Yeah, maybe, but Hey, can I have a cotton candy, please? Rick Thomas, please, the carnival's always been my first love.
I ran away with one when I was 14 years old and I was gone for three weeks.
When my old man finally got me, man, I couldn't sit down for a month.
I mean, I couldn't eat anything but vanilla milk shakes and tomato soup.
Then I ran away with the circus Did I ever tell you this before? Hey, that's my cotton candy.
Come in.
Mr.
Gilbert.
Welcome.
You must be my new roustabouts.
Yep.
Which one's the P.
I.
? Thomas Magnum.
Rick Wright.
You know, I ran away with a carnival once.
I was 14 years old.
I was gone for three weeks.
Rick When my old man got me, man, I couldn't Rick That's all right.
I still feel I'm 14 years old, too.
There's got to be a little boy inside you to stay in this racket.
God knows it isn't going to be around long.
The carnivals that crisscross this country, playing the country fairs and revivals, are soon gonna be a thing of the past.
A dying piece of Americana.
The midway and the sideshow are being replaced by the computer arcade and the cheap horror films that are churned out every five minutes and don't leave anything to the imagination.
The mind.
The kid in all of us.
I don't know, maybe America's grown out of us.
Maybe the little boy grew up too fast.
He blinks his eyes and he becomes a lawyer or a computer operator or a bank teller.
We carnies just try to get by.
And we try to reach out to the kid out there.
I'm glad we reached you.
What happens if you don't reach that kid out there? Then I sell out lock, stock and barrel to Mike Janes and his modern, "today's" operation.
And we become a quaint historical footnote, a sanitized piece of trivia.
I don't want that to happen to my people.
They're loyal, and most of them have been with me for a long time, but they've got to eat.
I haven't written a paycheck in three weeks.
And unless you guys find out who did that to poor Robin, God rest her soul, I'll never write another one.
Rick may have felt nine years old again, but somehow I found that a little bit difficult.
Because even when I was nine years old and my grandpa took me to the carnival at the county fair, I found myself asking too many questions.
Questions like, in the basketball shooting concession, why was the ball pumped so full of air that it would bounce off the too-small rim and there goes your quarter? Or why did the beautiful blonde lady in the dollar-a-kiss booth smell like a distillery from 20 feet away? Or how come the biggest stuffed animals you could possibly win in the shooting gallery always had an inch of dust on them? And now, a lot of years later, who would want to make a murder part of the sideshow? Hello? Hey, take it easy.
Sorry, I'm a little on edge.
You're the P.
I.
? Yeah.
Except it's Private Investigator, and I'm supposed to be undercover.
Daddy's got a big mouth.
Audrey Gilbert.
Inky's little girl.
Aka "Sparky The Clown" and midway manager.
Nice meeting you.
How many other people know why I'm here? Just me and Inky.
Honest.
How can I help you? Well, tell me about Robin.
Boyfriends? Enemies? Debts? None of the above.
Everybody liked Robin and Robin liked everybody back.
Been with us for two years.
Joined us in Stockton when she ran away from home.
Can't think of a damn thing anybody would have against her.
What about that knife thrower? The Indian? The Chief? Audrey, Audrey.
Yeah, him.
Who is he? This is Thomas Magnum.
Inky just hired him as the new roustabout.
I was going over the ropes with him.
Hi, guy.
White Deer has left.
What do you mean, left? She quit.
She was tired of not getting paid.
She left me for a Portuguese restaurant.
Who am I gonna use in the act tomorrow? Tell me? Who? Don't you worry, Chief.
We will find you another assistant.
I promise.
Someone as fearless as White Deer? Never.
You've gotta forgive him.
He's had a rough couple of days.
The police have really grilled him on account of the fact that the murder weapon was one of his knives.
See, the case where he keeps them was broken into.
Of course, the weapon didn't have his prints on it, but nevertheless, it's a matter of pride with him.
He swore he'd kill the person who did it.
I believe him.
What exactly does a roustabout do? Okay.
Do you know what a mop and broom are? Somehow it wasn't necessary to have a Tower Of Terror to get good and scared.
That's because most of the people I talked to today were already half there.
Not me.
Oh, I know what you're thinking.
That's because I was thinking it, too.
I was becoming overly paranoid.
After all, the Tower Of Terror was nothing more than just a bunch of papier-maché goblins and screechy sound effects.
Wouldn't have bothered me nor Gramps one bit.
Boo! Easy, fella.
Come on, I just work here.
Cleaning up.
Damn rats.
Scared you, didn't I? Scared me? Well, you woke me up.
It's getting so a man can't get a sound sleep around here.
Excuse me.
Who are you? Thomas Magnum.
Inky hired me and a friend of mine as roustabouts.
Oh, he did, huh? The name's Gus Zimmer.
Known professionally as Gus the Geek.
I'm sorry I frightened you.
Here, let me help you clean up.
Oh, thanks.
You done much carnie work before? Well, I've done a lot of mopping.
Are you a Navy man? Yeah.
I was in the Army myself, about a million years ago.
Hey, look, I know it's my job during business hours and everything, but I really wasn't trying to make you sick.
It's just that it's the only place where I can catch a few winks without people bothering me, and I don't have to wear the mask.
And what with everything that's been going on here, I guess I'm just as nervous as everybody else.
Robin? Yeah.
Surprised anybody took this job knowing what's going on.
It ain't only Robin, though.
There's been other deaths? Did I say that? No, I didn't say that.
I said there's been a lot of bad stuff going on lately.
That guy in San Diego had his back broken when the whirl-a-way collapsed on him.
Darn thing had just passed a safety inspection, too.
Then our concession lady, Marge, had to have her stomach pumped out when she ate one of her own chili dogs.
Somebody might have put some arsenic into her chili.
She's gone.
I'll tell you, life is tough even if you don't weaken.
I've been with this carnival for I used to be the ringmaster before the accident.
I used to talk a lot.
Now I don't get to say much.
All I get to do is make a few weird noises.
Three times a day.
Gus the Geek.
Subhuman.
What happened? There was a fire in Decatur, in '61.
There were some kids.
I got them out.
That was when I got to be the Geek.
Can't blame Inky any, though.
He's always been real good to me.
He's kept me on here through thick and thin, good times and bad, and I'd go right to the end with him.
I just hope it doesn't come too soon.
There's not much of a retirement program for geeks.
I'll get the rat.
Needless to say, I didn't get a great night's sleep.
Jumbled, distorted images of devils with pitchforks and ugly green monsters and chili dogs that came alive totally routed the poor little sheep I was trying to count.
They didn't have a chance.
And with all the information I had gotten yesterday, I was wondering if Inky Gilbert's carnival did, either.
What time is it? It's 6:00 in the morning.
What's the matter with you? Matter? Matter? Nothing's the matter.
I love being scared awake.
After all, we're at a carnival, aren't we? There's nothing like a 6:00 a.
m.
thrill to kick off the old adrenaline.
What are you doing? I've been out all night investigating while you've been sleeping.
Well, you didn't have to clean out the Tower of Terror or the Tunnel of Love.
Do you want to know what I found out or not? What did you find out? Nothing, but Nothing concrete.
But I think I'm onto something.
It was that Indian Chief's knife that was used in the murder, right? So I decided to check him out.
I followed him all night long, because he was yelling and screaming, and running inside and outside of everybody's tents and trailers.
And then he'd sneak up behind some of the other guys and he'd just watch them.
And then comes the weird part.
What weird part? It was a full moon last night, right? This guy goes behind the amusement park sits down on the grass, looks up at the moon Are you ready for this? And starts singing opera.
I'm convinced he's our guy.
Because he was singing opera? He was near the tent when Robin Guthrie got it.
Well, so were a dozen other people.
And they didn't see a thing.
They were too busy watching the stunt.
Rick, just 'cause this guy sings opera to the full moon doesn't mean he's our killer.
It's a lead.
What do you got? Nothing.
Oh.
Except a lot of talk about mysterious accidents.
I mean, this is the worst kind of case, Rick.
There's nothing to go on.
You just gotta You gotta kind of blend in and get familiar with people till they trust you.
And then, maybe then, somebody will let something slip, and you got them.
It's called deep cover.
We could be here for a long time.
That's great.
Except Inky Gilbert doesn't have a long time.
I know.
What do you got in mind? Well, we accelerate the process.
We take control.
How? No, wait a second.
Where are you going? We're history, Inky.
We're gone.
No, no! No, No.
You can't leave, you can't.
We are, and you can't stop us.
But why? Because we gotta eat.
Yeah, and buy some razor blades.
But, guys, what about the show? Chris, we're family.
A broken family, Inky.
I'll get the money, I promise.
It's not just the money.
This carnival isn't safe anymore.
We don't want to go, but this is the way it's gotta be.
Goodbye, Inky.
Please don't leave.
Chris, Charles.
It won't be like Hackensack.
There go a lot of suspects, Thomas.
Hey, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
This is great, this is just great.
Hey, Gilbert.
Mike Janes Amusements has a contract with the Inky Gilbert Carnival.
Now, apparently, there isn't one.
The hell there isn't.
How so? You just open the gates at 11:00, Mr.
Janes.
The show will go on.
This I gotta see.
Is he a man or is he an animal? A mere four bits will let you decide for yourself.
See the Geek drink human blood.
Will his animal thirst ever be quenched? See what happens when live rodents are unleashed in his cage.
The Geek! The Geek! The Geek! Come on.
Step up, step up, step up.
There's fun for everyone.
I've had enough of this.
Come on, where's all your carnie spirit? Where's your leads? And what about accelerating the process? I have a new theory.
Yeah, what's that? The who-stands-to-gain the-most if-Inky-goes-under theory.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! We're saved! Daddy, what are you talking about? The Inky Gilbert Traveling Carnival lives! Daddy, I know we did well, but we can't keep up this kind of effort unless we're at full strength.
We are, or we will be.
After I hire everybody back tomorrow morning.
Ladies and gentlemen, your paychecks.
So much for my new theory.
But out of its ashes grew another.
Admittedly, sneaking into the office of your own client wasn't the most exemplary of private investigative techniques.
But then again, when you're out of leads, being exemplary isn't as important as getting to the truth.
No matter where it may lie.
Hello, Magnum.
Going through the books? I see you met Waldo.
Say hello, Waldo.
"Hi, Magnum.
"Find anything interesting?" Yes, I did.
Let me guess.
You couldn't find anything concrete about Robin's murder, so your untrusting mind began searching for other motives.
The non-emotional kind, the baser kind.
Like economics.
Sure, you'd heard about the accidents and misfortunes I've been having.
So you began to wonder, "Hey, maybe old Inky's making some dough on the deal.
"He can't be making any money out of this third-rate carnival.
"Maybe he's trying to get it out of the insurance companies.
"How's he doing?" You're doing wonderfully.
Keep going.
I will, son.
I will.
But here's where your suspicious little mind and reality part company.
I don't get a red cent for any of those accidents.
All I got were higher premiums, substantially higher.
I'm dying here, Magnum, and you're trying to shovel dirt on the coffin before it's even in the ground.
It's good thinking, though.
I've got to admire you in a strange sort of way.
Higgins was right.
He sent the best.
He said that? The best? You gotta know how to read him.
Are you all finished here? So we can get some sleep and start all over again tomorrow morning? Oh, just a minute.
You can help me fix King Arthur's iron mace in the Wax Museum.
Just a second, Inky.
I'm not finished here yet.
How about explaining the $10,000 cash deposit in the carnival account? Maybe I've got a silent partner.
You're grasping at straws, Magnum.
And I guess I appreciate it, but where I got that money is of no concern to you and has absolutely nothing to do with Robin Guthrie's death.
I promise.
Oh, my God.
I'll call an ambulance.
Rick? Call the police.
We should have never come back.
The Chief's dead.
I think Rick's alive.
Hey.
My God, Magnum, you've got the wrong bloody clown.
Rick? Rick? What? How do you feel? That's a dumb question.
How would you feel if someone hit you over the head with a hammer? I feel like garbage.
Who's your friend? It's just Higgins.
Did you get a look at the guy who did this to you? No.
I was following my suspect.
The Chief? Yeah, the Chief.
He was carrying one of his knives and heading towards the Wax Museum.
So I followed him inside.
It was all dark, and then What? I don't know.
What did you see? I saw a Fourth of July fireworks show and a million little angels singing in my head.
And I guess that's when he hit me.
The Chief? Who else? Chief's dead, Rick.
Oh.
Good night.
All right.
Why were you there? And why are you dressed up in this stupid suit? What I was doing there should be obvious, even to you.
I was attempting to assist.
By lurking and skulking in the shadows of the midway? That's my job.
At which you were not being entirely successful.
Magnum, I was only trying to help.
I don't need your help.
Inky Gilbert does.
Oh, great.
Coming from a guy in a clown suit? Come on, Higgins, I gotta do this my way.
While the body count rises.
Higgins.
Obviously, the Chief had a very strong notion of who Robin Guthrie's murderer was.
Well, I'm beginning to think I do, too.
Who? Possibly Inky Gilbert.
That is the most baseless and absurd statement I've ever heard you make.
Rick was hit over the head.
What's your excuse? No excuses.
Higgins, you've got to consider the possibility.
Look, before we found Rick and the Chief, Inky caught me in his office going through his books.
You were what? Higgins, you look terrible.
Why were you going through Inky's books? I'll get to that.
The point is that Inky walked in with a big monkey wrench, a nice blunt instrument.
He said he was doing some repair work in the Wax Museum.
So Inky killed the Chief and attempted to do the same to Rick? That is conjecture at its most flimsy.
Indeed, libelous.
Damn it, Higgins, he had a motive.
What motive? Money.
What, insurance? No, not insurance.
He told me the truth about that.
But I found out from Inky's books that if the carnival goes under, there's a sweet buyout clause from Mike Janes Amusements.
Inky would never give up the carnival.
It's his Life.
Yeah, I know.
Spare me that "one big happy family" stuff.
As of this moment, you are off the case.
No, I'm not.
What if they gave a carnival and nobody came? I guess everybody moves on, leaving behind a lot of dreams and illusions and sticky candy wrappers.
But in this case there's also left behind the rather sticky matter of two dead bodies and one potentially ruined friendship.
But despite that, I wasn't going anywhere.
Hey.
That costs money, pal.
But then, it's not gonna make much difference, anyway.
What do you mean? We'll all be gone soon.
I think you just won yourself a stuffed dinosaur.
Hell, we're living in one.
Inky wants to see you.
I'll take care of this here.
Yeah? Oh.
I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go, Magnum.
We're closing tomorrow night.
Courtesy of Mr.
Janes.
I'm not a roustabout, remember? I've got another job to do and I'm not quite finished yet.
Oh, yes, you are.
Higgins called this morning.
This is per him.
You're out of here as of now.
The police will continue their investigation.
And so will I.
Not in my carnival.
Not while I still have it.
Read the back of your ticket, the part where I've got the right to refuse admission to anyone.
It's not gonna be that easy, Inky.
My friend was hurt, too.
Save me the cheap melodramatics.
I feel as bad about Rick as you do.
And I feel a whole lot worse about Robin and the Chief, but this is the first fight of my life I've ever lost.
And the lousy thing about it is I'm beginning to get used to it.
I'm also beginning to get used to the fact that these murders were committed solely to drive me out of business.
And if you were such a great detective, perhaps that's where you should've started, instead of me and my people.
You're talking about Janes? I ain't naming names.
I checked Janes out.
He's got an airtight alibi, and if you want to talk about motive, he doesn't have one.
He's gonna lose money with this carnival.
Just like me.
Only I'm gonna lose a lot more.
Now get out of here, Magnum, there's enough buzzards around and the air stinks.
A good friendship is usually a difficult entity to maintain.
There's got to be a commonality of interests, an enjoyment of each other's company, and an appreciation of the other's differences.
But if those items don't really exist in large quantities, there has to be an underlying basis of honesty and truth.
But maybe this time the truth was something Higgins didn't want to see because of his friendship with Inky.
But because of my friendship with Higgins, it was something he had to see.
Higgins.
I want to apologize for yelling at you last night at the hospital.
I understand the bond that you and Inky share, and I appreciate what it means, and I appreciate your loyalty to him.
Oh, yeah, I found out from a friend of T.
C.
's at the bank that the money that's been keeping the carnival and Inky afloat's from you.
Converted pounds sterling from your British bank.
But, Higgins, you can't judge a man by one incident in his life.
You have to look at the whole picture, the essence of who he is.
Now, damn it, Higgins, maybe Inky doesn't even want your money, or my help, or the carnival's.
Have you ever considered that? Maybe all he wants is out.
All I'm saying is, I think we should find out.
Your passion for the truth is commendable, Magnum.
And, yes, I do appreciate that.
But, ultimately, it is misguided.
Why? Because Inky Gilbert was just found strangled to death in his office.
I'm sorry, Higgins.
I know that doesn't mean a whole lot right now.
Magnum, your words are unnecessary.
I do understand how you feel.
Do you? Inky told me you said you were sending him the best.
Except maybe I should have been a little quicker, too.
At the moment, postmortems and self-recrimination are irrelevant.
This is not self-recrimination.
It's not a postmortem.
It's finished.
No, it isn't.
Why go back? Inky's dead, the carnival is over.
I'm not going to the carnival, not just yet.
But I am going back.
Where? I'm going to the one place and the one time you've never mentioned in all your ramblings or your memoirs.
North Africa, August of '42.
Chris, Charles.
Is Gus still around? Where is he gonna go? Gus is inside.
Thanks.
Good luck.
Thanks.
There's something disturbing and sad when you see something out of its normal element.
Like a fish helplessly thrashing on the deck of a boat, or those carnies who have no idea that there's another world out there, or much less have the ability to cope in it.
But at least they made the choice.
Somehow, I had the feeling that Gus Zimmer didn't have those kind of options.
And when you're out of options, you can either cry for help, or blow sky high.
Maybe I should have heard Gus's cry for help, but there were so many other voices.
Inky's, Higgins', the Chief's, Mike Janes', Audrey's.
But I was listening now.
I only hoped it wasn't too late.
Are you looking for something? Not anymore.
I found what I'm looking for.
You're in my stuff.
Yeah, I was, Donald.
The name's Gus.
Not 44 years ago, it wasn't.
Forty-four years ago in North Africa, it was Donald.
When you and your brother were fighting next to an Englishman named Jonathan Quayle Higgins.
That's where you got burned.
There was no fire in Decatur, no kids.
The hell there wasn't.
The firemen gave me a commendation.
It's right here somewhere.
Oh, I don't think so.
Probably some kind of clerical error, right? Some harried medic buries the real Gus Zimmer under your name.
The name that's on this Purple Heart, your dog tags.
Donald Gilbert.
Why'd you do it? Why? You're asking me why? There's enough light here.
Take a good look.
I had a fiancée and a job to come back to.
When I took the bandages off and looked in the mirror, I knew it was never gonna happen.
I didn't want to put anyone through the grief of having to look at me and smile and try to be brave and try to keep from throwing up at the same time.
So it turned out to be a whole lot better for me just to be Gus Zimmer.
No hassles.
No pity.
Just a bunch of sawdust and cheap laughs.
You should've seen the look on Inky's face when I showed up a few years later.
Back from the dead.
I'll say this for him, though, he was a good brother.
He took care of me.
No questions asked.
Then why'd you kill him? Who says I killed him? The buyout clause in Inky's contract with Mike Janes Amusements.
Gus Zimmer gets the payoff in the event of Inky's death.
You're the silent partner.
Now, what would a geek want with money? Well, maybe some kind of real life.
Some kind of life where you don't have to drool and moan and chase live rats around three times a day.
Some kind of life where you can rent an apartment, watch TV, pretend you're just like everybody else.
You wanted out, Donald.
You started with the accidents, trying to get Inky to sell.
But Inky was tough, and you escalated.
You didn't have to kill.
How do you know that? You're a pretty good guesser, but you don't know what it's really like.
And unless you swallow a bucketful of fire trying to save some berserk lunatic someday, you never will.
What are you saying? Higgins? No, not Higgins.
My brother, Inky.
He snapped.
He was too tired or too crazy, I don't know.
But he snapped.
He took off running straight at an enemy machine-gun nest.
Blazing away, and I had to get him out.
But instead of him ending up the dead hero, I got to be it.
Where was Higgins? He was holding his position.
He was following orders.
He was doing exactly what he was supposed to do.
Maybe he doesn't think so.
Who cares? It doesn't matter anymore.
It's over.
It's all over now.
Tell me something.
How did you get a fix on me? Was it the buyout clause? No.
I don't know, you just shot that rifle too damn good.
Come on, let's go.
Where? Find some people who can help you.
Me included.
Thomas.
Don't.
Stay right there.
I may be ugly, I may be crazy, but I'm not going to no hospital.
Where are you going? France.
One million dollars and a plane to France? That guy is crazy.
We'll just extradite him.
I know that.
And more importantly, he knows that.
But you gotta go through the motions.
The man has nothing to lose.
That's impossible.
I'm moving in.
You move in, and he kills Audrey Gilbert.
Now, look, he gave you an hour.
Give me 10 minutes.
I can't.
You know that.
I know that place.
I've cleaned it often enough.
Let me try, please.
I gotta look over the blueprints of the building.
Talk to me in 15 minutes.
Magnum.
What is the status of the operation? The status is I'm gonna go in there and try and get Audrey out.
I'm going with you.
No.
I must.
Please understand, Magnum.
I have my reasons.
I know what they are, Higgins.
And I do understand.
You did the right thing Do the right thing now.
Please, please, give me the gun.
Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you.
Why are you doing this? 'Cause I want people to remember who I was.
Let her go, Donald.
Come on.
Sure.
No problem.
Go ahead.
Why don't you just put that gun away? No! I never wanted to go to France, anyway.
The front, run to the front! Donald! Why? For all of us, come.
Magnum.
Higgins.