Someone is trying to kill Robin Masters,
and it is my job to stop them.
Get away from me. Go heel or somethin'.
A good attack dog is silent and barks only after his prey
has been killed or rendered impotent.
Anybody who wants dogs that eat people, I don't want nothing to do with.
Well, she's dedicated.
Higgins.
- He's been drugged. - I'll carry him.
It was the Paris of Hemingway and Fitzgerald that Mark sought,
even though he knew it only existed on celluloid
and in the yellowing pages of books.
A Paris of absinthe and rainy afternoons and warm women.
He concentrated on those images when the pain--
Monsieur.
Good Lord! Rene, stop.
No.
Sorry, Rene. You were quite right.
Merci, Robin.
Damn. Really blew it this time.
If anyone's to blame, it's me.
Isn't it?
- One could say that. - Now what happens?
Now Robin runs to wherever he's hidden the tapes.
The apartment in Manhattan, the villa in Andros,
the chalet at Innsbruck, the estate in Hawaii.
We'll have to cover all his homes.
What do you think?
Jogging may be a fading fad on the mainland,
but in Hawaii it's a way of life.
Everyone runs here, no matter what other sport they're into.
I surfski, play sand volleyball and swim.
But I also run on the beach in the mornings.
I find it... stimulating.
Hi.
Of course, when... you surfski,
play sand volleyball and swim,
you shouldn't overexert yourself running.
Thanks, Moana.
Can I have a beer, Moana?
You're never gonna stay in shape drinking beer, Thomas.
Look who's talking.
The only exercise you get is walking between the bar and the dining room.
You don't have to exercise to stay in shape.
All you have to do is get a lot of rest and drink a lot of fruit juice.
That sounds like a cure for the flu.
Mmm. I'm serious.
I've been reading Fitness through Fruit Juices,
written by a Dr. Harlan Levy.
He says that if you drink the proper blend of fruit juices six times a day,
you don't have to diet or exercise or anything.
What's so funny? You think I'm kidding?
Listen. Take this, for example.
This is Dr. Levy's blend of pineapple, orange, papaya,
loquat, kumquat, boysenberry, blueberry, cherry.
One glass of this will make you healthier
than if you were to run seven miles in the morning.
- That one glass? - That one glass.
You forgot to mention the vodka.
I added that for flavoring.
- Nice race. - Pardon me?
Oh, on the beach before. You really pulled away from me.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.--
Magnum. Thomas Magnum.
Really? Uh, well, as I said before, I'm--
I'm sorry, I didn't know we were racing.
- See you later. - Bye.
Her name's Joy Doyle, and she's nobody's guest.
She's a member of the Malibu Surf Club,
who we have reciprocating privileges with.
And, um, I understand she's single.
She's an archaeologist or, uh, anthropologist
or one of those bone-diggin'ologist people.
But you know somethin', Thomas?
In the last 36 hours, nobody's been able to melt the ice any better than you.
I wasn't trying to melt any ice, Rick.
That's good.
Because you didn't.
She might outrun me on the beach,
but she couldn't beat me on a surfski.
Part of me wanted to go down there and prove it, but...
I realized that would have been childish.
Hi, again.
I know. We're not racing.
Well, you may not be racing, but me, I'm racing.
I just don't know if I can keep up this pace much longer.
Wanna call it a tie?
Tie.
Joy Doyle. But people I race against call me Digger.
- Nice to meet you, Digger. - Same here,
Magnum, if that really is your name.
I wouldn't toss rocks. Not with a name like Digger.
Well, it's only a nickname. Yours is for real.
You had a choice. I didn't.
Oh, with a doctorate in archaeology, what choice do you think I had?
I don't know. They could have called you Bones.
Got me.
Is this your car?
What do you mean? Doesn't it look like my car?
Well, no it... looks like my car.
Your car?
Fooled me too. I thought this was Robin's car for sure.
Thank you. Robin's. I knew your name wasn't Magnum.
Yes, it is. It's just that
my car sort of technically belongs to Robin Masters.
Robin Masters, the novelist?
- Do you know him? - Well, we're sort of neighbors.
You live next door to him?
Oh, well, not actually next door.
Um, I kind of live on his estate,
which is where we're going if you ever put the car into first.
I've read all of his novels, including the latest one,
The Golden Spike.
Did you read that? Oh, but of course you did.
You probably read the first draft hot out of the typewriter.
Robin Masters doesn't use a typewriter.
He dictates all his novels into a tape recorder.
Well, however he does it, he's very good.
It's so mysterious the way he travels all over the world,
never stopping in one place long enough to have three meals.
Well, considering Robin's waistline, that's a bit of an exaggeration.
And all those lurid parties.
Listen to me tell you. You've probably been to most of them.
Oh, just the ones in Hawaii.
Is it true that the bedrooms in his house are,
you know, sort of... mirrored and things like that?
And that his is extra special?
Well, I don't know about Robin's bedroom.
But I do know that mine is a relatively normal bedroom.
Do you think I could see it?
- My bedroom? - No, Robin's.
I'll need a decision within the next 10 minutes if I'm to get proper clearance.
Yes, I understand.
The laser beam cut through the night like the Singing Sword,
lighting the black with Merlin-like pyrotechnics.
It was at that precise moment that Mark realized Madonna had tried to kill him.
Yes, Rene, what is it?
Um, we need a destination, Robin, other than west.
Yes, I have it right here.
Very good.
And get me Hawaii, Luana.
It was absurd, but all Mark could think was
that the sound of the laser shattering the window was,
uh, precisely like the...
tinkle of ice against crystal.
Open up, Higgins.
Yes, Mr. Masters. I quite understand.
Open up, Higgins.
You can rely on me to take every precaution
should you decide to come here.
Higgins, what do I have to swap to get in here?
I assure you, sir. Security is impenetrable.
With one exception.
Yes, Mr. Masters. I look forward to it too.
Hi, Higgins.
I was wondering if you could show a friend of mine Robin's bedroom.
What?
Uh, just be a minute.
Look, she's a bit starstruck, and she gave me a ride home,
and I promised her she could see Robin's bedroom.
- She's got this crazy idea-- - Magnum, I don't have time for this.
That was Robin Masters on the phone.
- What, just now? - Yes.
Higgins, you should've told me. Digger would've gone nuts to talk to Robin.
Digger?
Well, that's just a nickname.
Digger, why don't you come in here and say hi to Higgins?
Magnum, really, I haven't got time to talk to starstruck women.
What can it hurt to say hello?
Hello, Higgins.
You better know how to use that, lady.
I can drive a tack at 50 feet.
- I'm not a tack. - Or belly buttons.
But I'd, uh, rather just use the phone.
Uh, that's not a normal telephone.
I know.
Mr. Masters? This is J. Doyle,
special agent with Starguard.
Yes, sir.
I'm in the den.
I have a Mr. Higgins and a Mr. Magnum slightly inconvenienced.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Robin Masters would like to talk to you.
Yes, Mr. Masters.
Yes.
Yes, I quite understand.
It seems Miss Doyle is with Starguard,
a security firm that specializes in protecting
corporate V.I.P.s, the wealthy, the famous.
Mr. Masters engaged them when he received a threat on his life
if he published a novel he's working on.
Evidently the threat was quite legitimate.
An attempt was made to kidnap or kill him 48 hours ago
in the south of France.
- He's okay? - Yes, quite.
He's flying now to pick up all the tapes he dictated for this new novel,
which are stored on one of his estates.
For security reasons, Starguard recommends that
he not reveal which estate until the last possible moment.
Once the tapes are in the hands of Robin's publisher,
Starguard feels that... he'll be quite safe.
Why the games?
Why the hell didn't you just come in here and tell Higgins who you were?
Starguard felt that security here was not
up to its standards, despite Mr. Masters' assurances that it was.
So they sent Miss Doyle in to prove their point.
Which she did quite ably.
She's in charge now, and I'll be...
taking my orders from her.
- Thank you. - For what?
Trying to make a fool out of a man
who'd never let you in the front gate if it hadn't been for me.
The point is that I got through the front gate.
- Not how. - That's not the point at all!
Yes, it is. She's quite right.
It doesn't matter how she got in, just that she did get in -- and with a weapon.
If she wanted to kill Robin, all she'd have to do is... wait.
- Precisely. - Why are you arguing for her?
Magnum, I'm not upset with you. Really.
It's my fault.
Let's just leave it at that.
I assume you'll want an immediate tour of the grounds, Miss Doyle.
Please.
I wished Higgins would have yelled or screamed
or jumped up and down and turned red or something --
anything but be understanding.
I couldn't stand it when Higgins was understanding.
It made me feel guilty.
Maybe if the dogs bit me.
How very clever.
It did serve well to keep our conversation going where I wanted it.
Knowing Magnum, that shouldn't have been too difficult.
You are furious with him.
I am always furious with Magnum.
But at the moment, I feel no more fury than usual.
So, you see, I'm not really furious with him.
Although I have every right to be, since he was incredibly stupid and gullible.
- Shall we take the truck? - Whatever you suggest.
Thank you.
We have over 200 acres here,
extending from mauka to makai.
That's Hawaiian for from the mountains to the sea.
Of course, only the five-acre main compound is wired against intruders.
- Anything beyond that? - This isn't a military outpost.
It may have to be.
That's it, Higgy baby.
I have had it with these mangy pot hounds.
Zeus, Apollo, patrol.
- Go heel or somethin'. - Patrol!
Chasin' me all over this plantation every time I come to see T.M.
- They barked. - Yeah, you noticed.
A good attack dog is silent
and barks only after his prey has been killed or rendered impotent.
- Killed? Impote-- - How did you get in?
The same way we always do when the gate's locked. Over the fence.
Impossible. You would have set off the alarm the way you always do.
It's over here.
It's a neutralizer to bypass the fence alarm.
See, all I gotta do is--
Must be getting a little rusty.
Covered with corrosion is more like it.
This alarm system is out of date.
A child could bypass it.
This system is less than two years old. I installed it myself.
Using designs that are 10 years old.
Compared to the new sonic alarms,
this system is as antiquated as a World War II... soldier.
If you'll excuse me for a few minutes, Miss Doyle, I have the lads to feed.
Then we can resume your tour.
Uh, yeah, me too. Hold it, Higgy baby.
You are really something, Miss Doyle.
Why? Because I take my work so seriously?
No.
Because if I make a mistake, my client may be killed.
It's the pleasure you take out of making other people look foolish.
There's no pleasure in it.
Then why do you do it with such relish?
You know, that little man has done a damn good job of securing this estate.
Especially when you consider the guests that Robin Masters
has paraded through here.
Now, this is a rich man's estate. It's not an outpost in 'Nam.
Or at least it wasn't supposed to be until today.
So I don't think Higgins should be held responsible
for not securing it for World War III.
Thomas, wait a minute, please.
Look, I can use your help.
Oh, lady, you have got to be kidding.
I'm not. I can't help it if I'm a perfectionist.
It's what makes me so damn good at what I do.
- What, conning people? - Look who's talking.
You live here in luxury, you drive an expensive sports car,
you haven't had over $200 in your checking account since you left the Navy.
- Boy, you really dug deep. - Part of the job.
I know all about you. Your background. All of it.
Naval Intelligence, 'Nam,
your relationship with Rick, T.C. -- even Higgins.
Well, that never was much, and you haven't helped any.
But I can. Look, I'm only here until Robin gets his tapes --
if he comes here at all.
And, well, when I leave I can recommend that Higgins gets put back in charge.
In exchange for--
You, T.C. and Rick.
I don't have time to interview security people on the island,
and I'm not gonna fly them in from the mainland.
I thought Starguard was some big operation.
It is, but reliable helicopter pilots aren't a dime a dozen.
Or weapons specialists like Rick,
or a counterinsurgent expert like yourself.
You happen to be the best, and I need you.
Or, rather, Robin does.
Well?
What do you say?
No. N-O. No.
Why not? Why--Why not?
Man, that chick is crazy. She wants dogs that eat people.
Anybody who wants dogs that eat people, I don't want nothin' to do with.
Well, she's dedicated.
That's exactly why I don't wanna get involved.
'Cause I know what's gonna happen. I'm gonna wind up gettin' shot at.
No, you're not.
T.C., I said, no, you're not.
I heard what you said.
And you want me to say, "You wanna bet?"
And then I bet you 'cause I see easy money,
and then I end up gettin' shot at.
That's not what I'm tryin' to do at all.
You wanna bet?
All right, T.M.
The bottom line is I got hired by this old dude and his young wife
to take them on a seven-day tour.
And for this one, I get paid the big one per day.
A hundred bucks?
That's not the big one, T.M., and you know it.
I'm gettin' paid 7,000 bucks for seven days.
And the wife said if I take her to some interesting spots,
there's gonna be a bonus in it for me. Now, can you beat that?
No. But Starguard will.
Ha! Goodbye, T.M.
Are you all right?
I will be as soon as I get my stomach back together again.
Not used to flying.
Oh, no. I'm a check pilot with the F.A.A.
In 10 years, I have never flown with anybody so incompetent.
How he got his license in the first place, I will never know, but I'll tell you this.
When I file my report, I'm sure the agency will ground him immediately.
They have to, before he kills someone.
- Who are you talking about? - I'm sorry. I can't divulge that.
It's against regulations.
Thanks for the ride.
Hey, wait! Wait! Hey!
I want a Hitchcock stun fence installed around the main house by tonight,
half a dozen sonic alerts randomly placed along
the most likely approaches to the compound.
But my main concern is this 200-meter stretch of beach.
Practically indefensible.
Oh, no problem.
We just dig in and plant claymore mines here, here, here and here.
Yeah, maybe I can rig my chopper with some Gatling guns
and lay down some suppressing gunfire
when those bad guys try to land their rubber boats.
Guys, this is not a joking matter.
Someone is trying to kill Robin Masters.
They obviously have a great deal of money and power.
They'll be coming by land, sea or air, and it is my job to stop them.
I thought it was our job.
Our job. Higgins, can you handle the fence
and the alarms?
Miss Doyle, I'm not familiar with the Hitchcock stun fence or sonic alerts,
but I assure you I am quite quick and should have no difficulty installing them.
Just make sure he has step-by-step instructions.
T.C., you'll fly Robin directly here from the airport.
Me?
Just tell me when.
I won't know his arrival time
until his jet is less than a hundred miles out.
In fact, he may not show up at all.
No one except Robin Masters knows to which estate he'll be flying.
Well, someone sure thinks it's Hawaii.
That alarm neutralizer on the fence didn't just grow there.
I told you. The opposition is powerful.
They're covering all their bets.
We'll need a full-time guard at the front gate from here on out. Rick.
Guard duty. I knew it.
Even in the Corps, that's all I ever pulled was guard duty.
You'll find an M-16 in the trunk of my car.
Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.
Lady, please. Leave the weapons to me, okay?
Okay.
Higgins, you can pick up the stun fence and the alarms at the airport in an hour.
Flight number four from Los Angeles.
You all have your assignments. We'll meet again at 1800 hours.
- Is that 6:00? - I haven't the slightest idea.
- Is that daytime or nighttime? - Subtract 12.
- Subtract 12 from what? - Eighteen.
Oh.
Aren't you forgetting something?
What?
My little role here at the Alamo.
No, I haven't forgotten anything.
It's your job to find the holes in my defense.
The overlooked, the obvious.
Ah, you're admitting you can make mistakes.
Of course.
But I won't, because I'm aware of the fact that I can
and take steps to assure that I don't.
What are you doing?
Yes?
Uh, Robin Masters, please. Thomas Magnum, Hawaii, calling.
Uh, Mr. Masters is, uh, indisposed at the moment.
May I take a message, please? Uh, I am Mr. Masters' personal secretary.
You mean his bodyguard.
- Are you with Starguard? - Uh, yes, I am.
Would you describe the agent that your company sent to Hawaii
to secure Robin's estate?
Of course.
Well, her name is Joy Doyle, but, um, everyone calls her Digger.
She's, um, 5 foot 7, dark hair,
quite attractive for an American.
She has a barbell birthmark on her lower right buttock.
Ask her to show it to you.
She's also as cold as the berg that sank the Titanic.
Thank you. I've seen the birthmark.
That's what I mean. Look for the obvious.
Very good.
Although you could have told him that you saw my birthmark
while I was running or surf-skiing.
Oh, I'm sorry. What I meant was I didn't need it to identify you.
His description of cold as an iceberg was sufficient.
Confidential letter to Mr. Robin Masters
from Jonathan Quayle Higgins III.
Subject: Resignation.
What's the password?
How very original. Open the gate, please.
Gee, Higgins. I'm just trying to cheer you up a little bit.
Don't. It would ruin a wonderful depression.
- I'll open the gate. - That would be nice.
Perhaps I have reached the age
when my experience and techniques
have been outdated by recent technological advancements in the field.
I assure you. My decision in no way affects--
Look out!
Hello, there.
He tried to remember that she had sold the laser chips to Vladimir
and because of that he could die.
But he couldn't resist her.
The soft silk of her gown clinging suggestively to her body
seemed to Mark like, uh--
Like the label on a bottle of Lafite-Rothschild,
which can only hint at the pleasures that lay within.
He bought a one-way ticket to London,
gave me this note to deliver to Robin Masters and the keys to the car.
Damn it, I know Higgins. He wouldn't resign.
At least until Robin was safe.
Maybe you don't know him as well as you think.
- Describe him. - Well, he--he was short,
had-had a mustache, uh, slight paunch,
spoke with a British accent.
- Did he tip you? - Twenty bucks.
That's not Higgins, Thomas.
I know.
I remember once in '42,
I was attached to Alexander's command
when a group of Tuaregs captured me on the Qattara.
Must have been 130 in the shade.
Just going out on patrol in that heat was enough to drive some blokes balmy.
Now, technically, the Tuaregs were on our side,
but actually they worked for the highest bidder.
I say, that smarts.
Well, Jerry had paid them in gold, and since I only had British pound notes,
well, you can see the spot I was in.
Uh, sodium pentothal?
Oh, nothing that old-fashioned.
Of course, I should have known.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes.
Well, they tied me out in the heat. Without my hat, of course.
Where are the tapes?
Bloody hot in the Qattara.
Only Robin knows where the tapes are.
Oh, my, this drug is very fast acting.
I've always been afraid of the sun...
since the Qattara.
Without you, who will handle security?
Zeus, Apollo.
Good lads.
I understand what he means.
Keep going, Lisa.
You really like him, don't you?
Higgins? Like him?
The way he sics the dogs on me, makes me trade to use the bathroom?
Like him?
Yes, like him.
He's interesting.
So are you.
Huh. Found some change in here. Should we split it or give it to Robin?
Now what are you after?
I'm not after anything.
Um, I mean, I am.
But I'm not. Uh, not the way you mean anyway.
Oh, God. Why am I so--so tongue-tied?
My father used to do that to me.
Not that I'm comparing you to my father.
Although he was a private investigator who didn't make it very big.
I didn't mean that you wouldn't be big.
Uh, just that he was too soft to ever make it.
He wouldn't approve of you coming on to a guy as part of the job.
No. He wouldn't.
Tell me, just how far were you willing to go to get into the estate?
I came on to you, or rather, didn't come on to you,
because I felt that was the best way to get you interested
because I had to get in here somehow.
Higgins does do a fairly good job of keeping this place secure.
I had to think of something to penetrate security in a hurry.
But I really couldn't have pulled it off if there hadn't been
some sort of attraction.
I am not that good of an actress.
I think you are.
No, Tom.
I'm not.
I know. You think I'm being taken in by a kiss.
Well, you're wrong.
It takes more than one kiss from a warm, attractive, bright-eyed woman
to change my mind.
Um, Higgins is out there somewhere.
Yeah. We have a job to do.
What's the password, Higgins?
How very original. Open the gate, please.
Gee, I'm just trying to cheer you up, Higgin--
Higgins had the tape on when he left the estate.
You can't possibly get away with this.
Why don't you just drive.
Let me worry about getting away with it.
Whoever grabbed Higgins didn't realize the tape recorder was on.
But Higgins did.
I had to give the little majordomo credit. He was leading us straight to them.
Served there in '39, you know.
I say, Laseronics.
I do hope you're not going to use a laser on me.
It's a low frequency transmitting station they use
to communicate with their nuclear submarines.
I was stationed here for a while in the Navy.
They sold it at public auction when they switched to satellite communications.
Well, Laseronics probably has it as secured as tight as the Navy did.
That's a stun fence.
I can see the probes and generating boxes.
Besides dogs, they've probably got, um,
sonic alerts, video cameras.
Only their security people probably know what else.
To reach the subs underwater, the Navy used frequencies so low
the antennas stretched from one mountain to the other.
Look to the left of where they're anchored.
I don't think they'd expect anyone climbing down on 'em from up there.
It's gonna be tough getting in there.
Maybe not.
How are we gonna get up there?
The same way the Navy put up those antennas.
Yes, I'll check on it.
Uh-huh.
I'll check on it then.
Not-- No, not to my knowledge, no.
I'll have a scotch. And no bloody ice, please.
Higgins, you okay? It's me, Magnum.
Zeus, Apollo, kill.
Must be a reflex action.
He's been drugged. It's probably a thiosodium-based truth serum.
It's very effective,
but it'll leave him a bit drunk.
How are you gonna get him out?
Out? I'm out?
I'll carry him.
But I'm a sergeant major with the Prince of Wales'
own West Yorkshire Regiment.
Up the mountain? That's impossible.
Impossible? Nothing's impossible.
We'll argue about it at the top. Handcuff his arms around me.
Once, in North Africa, when a couple of lads and I had to raid a Jerry supply dump,
we ran into a bunch of bedouin women on a camel.
- Dromedary actually. - Here we go, Higgins.
Bloody filthy animals. All they want to do is spit on you.
Sergeant major, jerry patrol up ahead.
Right. Mum's the word, lads.
Air raid. Air raid. Take cover.
Get behind the door.
Steady, lads.
This reminds me of Nepal, fall of '43.
I was ordered to get supplies to a Chinese guerrilla outfit
fighting high in the Himalayas.
Hold your fire.
We've got what we want anyway.
No one had ever crossed the Himalayas that late in the year.
Even Lord Mountbatten, God rest his soul, didn't think it could be done.
But we were fusiliers.
I left with 25 men and a Sherpa guide on the eighth of October.
We hit snow at 10,000 feet.
And I can tell you, with 50-pound packs on our backs, it was bloody hell.
Lost our poor guide somewhere around 12,000 in an avalanche.
Higgins, shut up!
I'm really quite speechless.
It's about time.
I couldn't help myself. They gave me some sort of truth serum.
- It... made me run on a bit. - A bit?
It won't happen again. I assure you.
What'd they ask you, anyway?
Same thing, over and over. Where were Robin's tapes?
Of course, since I didn't know, I couldn't tell them, could I?
Yes, Rick.
I got company.
Be right there.
Tom?
No, I'm just gonna lay here and rest till the big one.
Higgins, get on the other phone
and find out if Starguard provides security for any biggies at Laseronics.
- What? - Just do it for once, will ya?
This is Thomas Magnum. I'd like to speak to Robin Masters.
Roger, Honolulu approach.
Robin triple five, 200 nautical miles out,
descending to flight level one, five, zero.
Hello, Thomas.
I knew letting you stay at the guesthouse would pay off some day,
despite what Higgins says.
It was hard for Mark to believe that anyone so beautiful, so desirable,
could be so deadly.
Magnum, Higgins. I have a bit of a surprise.
I'd like you to meet the president of Starguard, David Clark.
Digger's told me how helpful the two of you have been.
Especially you, Higgins.
Me?
Well, I, uh--
Think I'll answer that.
Yes, Mr. Masters.
A helicopter is standing by at the airport.
Of course -- I'll be there.
It's here. Robin's coming here.
He's landing in 30 minutes.
He's asked that I meet him at the airport.
- Will that be all right? - Of course.
Oh, I'm sorry, D-David. Since you're here--
Oh, no. It's your show, Digger.
Although I would like to look over your defenses
and then make some phone calls.
I've got three other clients spread around the world
in vulnerable situations at the moment.
- I'll alert Rick at the gate. - I'll get the car.
Robin's due within the hour.
I expect to get hit when the chopper lands.
It'll be a diversion.
Where's the main attack coming from?
- Inside. - What?
Rick, I don't have time to explain it all now.
Just don't let anybody pull you off this post, okay?
Wait a minute. Did I ever leave my post?
Yeah. Outside Chu Lai, remember?
Remember the girl?
Once.
One time some dame suckers me, and he's not gonna let me forget it.
- Where's your leader? - On the phone.
Tom, what's wrong?
Oh, Robin's new book.
It's about selling top secret laser technology to the Russians.
Laseronics, where we found Higgins.
Uh-huh.
And guess who protects the president of Laseronics?
Who?
Starguard?
Ooh. That was very good.
The touch of surprise, the raised eyebrow.
Tom, I swear I didn't know.
We have a client list of over a thousand.
I know less than a--a hundred in Los Angeles.
Even so, it could have been just a coincidence.
What made you check in the first place?
Well, Laseronics had all the little goodies that you wanted to put in here.
And then that sneeze just as we were about to get out undetected.
I couldn't help that sneeze.
You th-- You think I'm involved, don't you?
Why don't we put it to the old test, Digger?
I know. I'm a sucker for tears.
But damn it, sometimes you just gotta go with your gut instincts,
even if it kills you.
I need your help to save Robin.
You trust me?
Yeah. I trust you.
Thomas, I got company.
A survey crew. As if anyone would believe that one.
And, man, are they makin' it look obvious.
Roger.
Survey construction truck just pulled up.
Can Rick handle it?
You and Magnum better check it out.
Digger!
Digger! I'll take care of Robin. Stop them at the gate.
Higgins, cover the guesthouse. They may try and sneak in that way.
Uh-huh.
Magnum, they've got Higgins pinned down on the beach.
Damn.
I'll take the tapes, Robin.
He doesn't have them, David.
Robin does.
You shouldn't have trusted me, Tom.
Why not?
Because it wasn't the smart thing to do.
Once you knew there was a tie between Starguard and Laseronics,
you couldn't trust anyone working for Starguard,
including me.
Yes, I could.
How?
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
Uh-huh.
What?
Uh--Uh, good evening.
I, uh, thought you might like to know that Robin Masters phoned.
Uh, the tapes are safely in the hands of his publisher.
Great.
Oh. And, uh, 5-O apprehended those two associates of David's at the airport.
I'm going down to identify them.
That's terrific, Higgins.
Yes, I thought so.
And so was your plan, Magnum, to switch places with Robin.
But...
I still don't know how you knew
Robin's tapes were in the guesthouse.
Robin asked me to hold them for him last time he was here.
You mean you had them all along?
- Yes. Now, Higgins-- - Well, where were they hidden?
They weren't. I just put them with the rest of my cassettes.
You mean you had Robin's manuscript just laying out in the open with
Jefferson Starship, Blondie and Styx?
There was also Mozart, Bach and Beethoven.
Now, Higgins, if you don't mind,
Digger and I were comparing investigative techniques.
It's fascinating how one can camouflage something that way.
I remember back in '63.
I was assigned to an army investigative unit in the north of Wales.
Had a fascinating case.
It seems this private killed his corporal in the latrine
because his sergeant had told the private that corporals
are invariably homosexual.
Then they straighten up again when they get their sergeant stripes.
It's an odd story.