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I thought you wanted... |
A moment ago you said you didn't want to see the Porter. |
We're both in it, Harry. |
Holly. |
I'm so sorry. |
It's all right. |
That's Harry's place, isn't it? |
Yes. |
Let's go away. |
What's the matter? |
Let's not get into any more trouble. |
Wait here. |
Sneak out the other way, and go back to your theatre. I'd better not see you again. |
What are you going to do? |
I wish I knew. |
Be sensible tell Major Calloway. |
Wer ist da? |
Me. |
I thought you were going to go away. Aren't the police after you? |
I don't know. |
I'm going back home. |
Why? |
What happened to your hand? |
A parrot...Let it go. |
Have you seen Calloway? |
Can you imagine a parrot nipping a man? |
Have you? |
...you know. |
He told you, didn't he? |
He's better dead. I know he was mixed up but not like that. |
I knew him for twenty years at least I thought I knew him. I suppose he was laughing at fools like us all the time. |
He liked to laugh. |
Seventy pounds a tube. He wanted me to write for his great medical charity. |
I'll put these flowers in water. |
...and my lover. He was Harry. |
Well, don't preach wisdom to me. You talk about him as if he had occasional bad manners. |
...again. |
There isn't enough for two laughs. |
Are you going, too? |
Oh... |
...is there? |
How did you know I would be here? |
...Headquarters. |
Have you been seeing Major Calloway again? |
Harry. |
I'm sorry. |
What is on your mind? Why did you hide? |
Hide? Can't a fellow have a drink? |
Here, it will be cold on that train. |
I shall be all right. |
You send me a wire as soon as you arrive. |
What is going to happen? Where is Harry? |
He's safe in the Russian zone. |
How do you know? |
I saw him today. |
Did he say anything about me tell me? |
Oh, the usual things... |
There's something wrong. Did you tell Calloway about meeting Harry? |
Of course I didn't tell Calloway. |
Why should he help me like that? The Russians will only make trouble for him. |
That's his headache. |
His. |
Oh, well. |
Why are you lying? |
We're getting you out of here, aren't we? |
...quarrel? |
If you want to sell your service, I'm not willing to be the price... I loved him. You loved him. What good have we done him. Look at yourself, they have names for faces like that. |
...anyway? |
From Kurtz. They have just been arrested. But Harry won't come, he's not a fool. |
Ich weiss nicht. |
Das mussen sie doch wissen. Ich meine ohne grund wird die politzei doch nicht ins Hans komme Fraulein Schmidt, ein schande... |
Den leuten. |
Ja, ja, ja. |
Sayen sie ed our den Leuten damit sie es auch wissen. |
Hier sind fruher Fursten ans unt eingeganger. Hier hat sogar ein Metternich verkehrt... |
Give her some cigarettes. |
Das worren nooh zeiten. |
Warscheinlich ist der murder. |
They think you did it. |
How is she? |
Pregnant. Thanks for asking. |
Here he is. |
Damn, man, I give up. Your partner tells you his wife's gonna have a baby, and all you care about is a coroner's report! |
Breeders typically destroy albino pups, so this animal is truly unique. |
Nicole Labetzki. Victim seven. Forensics found dog hair in her car, but they had a K9 unit at the scene and never had it checked. |
After three years she remembers what the guy drove? |
She remembers because it was her "dream truck." Wanted one just like it. |
We proceed assuming she is. |
Let's give old Carl a call. Tell him he's got company. |
No. Can you get a man close? |
We'll go back to his house, Pete. There's still a lot to do. Analyze the videos, track sales of the bleach, go through his records. Maybe he owns property somewhere. |
They're in that fucking thing for forty hours, Gordon. Fouroh. He got Julia at seventhirty last night. You know what time it is now...?! |
You sure you want to go through with this? |
What else do we do?! |
I don't know, Pete, but for god's sake... This is nuts. Do you really understand what they're going to do? |
I don't have to. |
Why jeopardize what we've already done? We caught the sonofabitch. Carl Stargher. That's going to be like Bundy, Gacy, Dahmer. A case that makes careers. But if we push our luck. If this is all bullshit and we come out smelling like it. |
Tell you what. If this thing burns us, I take that heat. I give you permission to point your finger at me and say "It was all his idea." |
That's not what I'm talking about, Pete. I'm talking about waking up and realizing this girl's gonna die. |
Right here. |
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