- You got Super Glue in this house? - Yeah.
Yo, man, this is Wild Kingdom.
I'm trying to create a stress-free environment.
You have.
These are my friends. That's Sydney.
He's a Wandering Jew.
This is Mona.
Hi, baby.
They actually like different kinds of music.
If I play the Beatles, the begonias perk up.
If I play Beethoven, they wither.
The ferns very definitely like the Boston Pops.
But everybody loves Mozart.
Who's this?
Big Al. Had him about six years.
Isn't he great?
What kind of music does he like?
James Brown drives him nuts.
Is that turtle shit in there?
You know, turtles are amazing to me.
- What are you doing? - I'm curious to know...
where his dick is at.
Give me him.
You know where your dick is, don't you, Big Al?
- Do turtles have dicks? - Yeah. How's it hanging, buddy?
Get me that Super Glue.
Billy is really out there, isn't he, Axel?
Yeah, Billy's pretty fucked-up.
- I heard that. - I know. I was joking.
Give me the Super Glue.
- What's that music from? - The Dating Game!
Yeah.
Now let's give Billy a big Dating Game kiss.
- Where's your telephone? - In the bedroom.
Where, in an alligator pit?
Jesus, Billy.
- Hello. - Jeff, yeah, Axel.
Axel, it's 1 :00 in the morning.
Jeffrey, stop talking. Listen. How's the Ferrari?
Ferrari's a great car.
Do those seats go back?
I was in the car with Marcy, and we couldn't get the seats back.
You and Marcy can't do freaky shit in that car. Do something for me.
It's something you don't want to do, but you gotta do it.
Will I get in trouble?
- You see that? - Weird, huh?
It's very simple.
The Super Glue fumes attach to the fingerprint acid.
See? It's an old street cop trick.
Hasn't filtered down to you Beverly Hills boys yet.
Now we have to match it.
We could use the computer downtown.
There's not gonna be anybody there this time of night, Sarge.
Shit, there goes my medical insurance.
You know, you can be such a pussy sometimes.
- Really. - Let's go.
You boys definitely get an A in high tech.
It would take 60 cops to do this shit back in Detroit.
""Charles Cain.'' Used to be ""Charles Campos.''
I just met this guy. He works in the Beverly Hills Gun Club.
- He does? - Yeah.
This ain't who we're looking for. The dude is a weasel.
- This is not a master criminal. - That's his print.
This guy had nothing to do with Bogomil getting shot.
If he suspected this dude, he'd have had him picked up in 20 seconds.
Let's put an APB out on Cain.
We can't. All we got is a fingerprint.
We don't have enough evidence. We need something else.
- What are we gonna do now? - Let's go to the gun club.
Wait. It's 1 1 :00. The gun club is closed.
- So? - So?
This is a big mistake.
This is definitely breaking the law.
Once we cross the line, there's no way back.
I'll go.
See? Would you lighten up and take some risks?
Fuck it, let's go.
Shit, alarm tape.
There are ways around alarm tape.
If we open this door now...
the connection's gonna break between the magnets.
If we use this foil...
and squeeze it between the two magnets...
then take the gum to hold it in place--
Now, the magnets have the illusion that the connection's not broken.
Then we take our knife...
and open the door without--
We walk in without the alarm going off.
Looks like you've done that before.
I wasn't always a police officer.
I fractured a law or two when I was a kid.
Can I have a piece?
- It's my last one. - Split it.
None for you.
- What are we looking for? - A needle in a haystack.
Give me some light over here.
Shit.
Here you go.
- What the hell is that? - What?
- That knife. - It's mine. Home protection.
We gotta talk.
- Did you get it? - Yeah.
- What is that? - Looks like a needle in a haystack.
Map coordinates.
Is this Inspector Todd of the Detroit Police Department?
Yes, it is.
I'm sorry to bother you at home, sir.
My name is Lionel Hand. I'm with the FBI Enforcement Bulletin.
- I read it all the time. - Thank you very much, sir.
We're quite proud of it. Don't touch the leather, sweetheart.
My director has asked me...
to interview an exceptional local law enforcement officer.
I'll tell you what, your name came up on our computer.
- Is that right? - I realize this is short notice...
but I wondered if you could possibly meet me this morning...
for breakfast at my office.
- How's 9.:00? - Yeah, I'll be there.
Thank you. My pleasure.
Ring.
Here's your coffee, sir.
Just once a week, I'd like tea.
- Do you know what I mean? - Yes, sir.
- Is that too much to ask? - Not at all.
Come on.
All right, goddamn it! Who tricked my ass?
Please, don't confuse me while I'm dialing.
- Yeah, this is Todd. - Inspector Todd?
- That's what I said. - This is Harold Lutz.
I'm the Chief of the Beverly Hills Police Department.
Do you have an officer working in your command named Axel Foley?
Yes, he's under my command, but he's assigned to some...
goddamn multi-jurisdictional...
federal task force on organized crime.
I never know where he is or what he's doing.
It's a real pain in the ass.
I cannot control the son of a bitch. He reports directly to the Feds.
I have to go now. Good-bye.
What are you doing in here?
This is not my office.
You're damn right it isn't!
I want to check these coordinates to see if they intersect.
What makes you think they mean anything?
9 7 52 Gregory Way.
City Deposit.
- What's City Deposit? - It's a Federal Reserve bank...
where banks take their money.
I bet you that's the next place that gets hit.
- Willie? Do it. - Yeah.
Unit 2 1 , handle. Unit 22, assist!
City Deposit, 341 Gregory!
Lines are down. Unable to verify.
Can this car go any faster than this?
- Come on, guys. - I got it.
Out of the hole. Move it.
- Let's do it. - Here we go.
Three minutes!
- Sarge, just trust me! - ""Trust you''?
- You drive worse than Maureen! - No way!
Tell me where the seat belt is!
- It's a red light! - It's green!
- Yeah, it was red. - It was yellow.
2:30!
Construction!
Shit!
- You coming or not? - I'm coming! Don't wait for me!
Two minutes!
- What's that for? - After the club shootout...
I figured I needed more firepower.
We gotta talk, seriously!
Who do you think you are? Clint Eastwood? Dirty Rosewood?
1 :30!
Sound the alarm, you got a break-in!
I need authorization.
- Authorized! - Fuck!
Get out of here! Come on, go!
Get out fast!
Rosewood, get some wheels!
This is pretty sporty!
Don't complain! It's all I could find!
Shit!
Police business! I need the car!
I'm a police officer!
Oh, God! Here I go again!
Come on, let's go!
- You hit a squad car! - I know! It's okay!
I know the guy! He's a jerk!
- Does the steering wheel work? - I'm steering!
- Do the brakes work? - I haven't tried them yet!
We should have went left!
Oh, fuck!
Are you driving with your eyes open...
or are you using the Force?
Stop! There's the truck.
Now what?
This was the pickup vehicle.
Let's follow it as far as it goes.
Sarge? You old bloodhound!
- Isn't this-- - Yeah.
Yo, what the fuck is up, man? Check this out.
I get $ 1 0 for cars, $20 for limos.
What the hell is this?
My truck.
Here's $50. Put it next to a limo.
Let me call you back.
I'm here to clean the pool.
- Your name, sir? - I'm the pool cleaner.
Darling, the pool was cleaned yesterday.
The pool was cleaned yesterday. Today the pool is dirty.
Somebody made a mistake in the pool. I'd like to clean the pool.
What do you mean by ""a mistake''?
Someone had a little accident in the pool.
- ""Accident''? - You want me to spell it out?
- There's something in the pool. - What?
You know what it's like when you people have these wild parties.
Somebody shit in the pool. I'm here to clean the shit up.
- I see. - I ain't happy about it.
I'm not thrilled, but it's my job. I have to do it.
You write names down, I clean pools. Where is the pool?
- Who are these two gentlemen? - They're with the Board of Health.
They're here to make sure I do the job thoroughly.
It'd be embarrassing to dive in-- I don't want to talk about it.
If you like, I can bring it by and you can verify it afterwards.
- No, that's fine. - Excuse me.
Jesus Christ!
Wake up! This is what we always talked about.
So look alive! You may never see it again!
I don't want to step on your tongues. Excuse me.
Why aren't my parties like this?
You got to die sometime. Might as well be here.
What are we supposed to be doing?
Whoever took that truck is here somewhere.
How do we find them?
Follow your dick.
- That looks like the gun club girl. - The one with Dent and Thomopolis?
Yeah, that big bitch.
Max! How'd you get in here? Forget I asked!
I see how you got in. It's the suit!
Nice suit!
I don't know who this person is, but he is annoying us.
- Let's see your invitation, please. - Excuse me.
I haven't begun to annoy you yet.
- What's going on? - It's Max.
You guys should look at your guest lists more carefully.
Max ain't supposed to be here.
- You know why? - Are we having a problem here?
Hef! Hugh Hefner! Axel Foley!
I'm sorry. I feel like I know you already.
You know how many times I've put your magazine up and-- Forget it.
I want to give you some background on some of your guests here.
This is Thomopolis. He's into guns and drugs.
And this is Max. Max kills cops for a living!
I don't know him or you.
I think it's time that all of you left.
I happen to be a major contributor.
We appreciate it. Good-bye.
Yes, he appreciates it, Max, but take your ass home.
You outdone your welcome and stayed too long.
It's been real, it's been nice. Take it easy.
Everybody! Party's over!
Max fucked it up for everybody, so let's just go home!
We'll go ahead as planned.
Get Cain to prepare E.
You picked Dent's pocket?
I told you I wasn't always a cop.
Yeah, I know. You fractured an occasional law as a kid.
- This is not good. - Look.
See? Every now and then, an occasional long shot pays off.
This is Dent's accountant, Sidney Bernstein.
Anything that Dent's into-- He'll have records.
We'll visit him tomorrow morning.
That's all we've got to go on.
There's no B and D. I'm looking for something, Mr. Mayor.
What about that goddamn cement truck?
What about that, Rosewood? Talk to me!
- I have a theory on that. - All right.
I think the cement truck was a tactical decoy.
A decoy?
A decoy. A diversion to protect the criminals' getaway...
and that's why it rammed into the police car.
Have you submitted yourself for drug testing yet?
I want you in by Thursday. Understand?
Do you have any idea that whoever was in that cement truck...
foiled the goddamn crime?
- Do you? - Putz.
- Did you say something? - He called you putz, sir.
I didn't call him a putz, I called you a putz.
He's right. Putz.
And you, Mr. Scribbler--
What the hell were you doing there, Foley?
- Aren't I a police officer too? - Remains to be seen.
Did you call Inspector Todd in Detroit for me?
I called your inspector. He doesn't like you very much.
- Gentlemen! - Do you hear this insubordination?
Yes, and I've never heard such inexcusable abuse!
Whatever's happened, the fact remains the robbery was foiled...
and the money was saved!
- I understand, Ted. - If I were you...
I would concentrate everything I've got on cracking this code...
and determining where the E crime will be!
- I am. - There can't be many targets...
in this city beginning with the letter E, so find them!
- I will, Ted. - Mayor!
Yes, Mayor.
And you! I want you out of here!
Get out of here, you degenerate!
You're not even part of this department!
- Is this a black thing? - Out!
Weren't you supposed to leave for Detroit?
- Yeah, today at noon. - You're not gonna make it.
You're gonna get fired.
We started this together, we'll finish this together.
Check this thing out and see if Sidney Bernstein owns a car.
- Give me a pen. - Come on.
'86 Mercedes, license number: CRL 50 7.
Naturally, I can see-- Yeah, yeah. I understand.
Somebody-- Wait.
Come right in. Don't let the fact that my door's closed...
dissuade you in any way from entering my office!
We're with the Beverly Hills Police Department.
- Are you Mr. Sidney Bernstein? - Yes, lucky guess.
You have 25 unpaid parking tickets. We have a warrant for your arrest.
What? Twenty-five?
Twenty-five unpaid parking tickets.
I pay my tickets. I pay all my tickets.
Sir, do you own a black Mercedes Benz...
license plates number CRL 50 7?
That's my wife's car!
- That's not my car! - You have unpaid parking tickets.
It's under my name, but it's my wife's car!
Bitch!
The tickets have not been paid, that means you're liable.
- Cuff Mr. Bernstein, please. - Cuff me?
There are people out there with chain saws, you're cuffing me?
You have 25 unpaid parking tickets, and it's your car...
so we have to take you in.
Wait a second. I've got an idea.
Is there something that I have in this office...
that I could hand to you...
and that would make you kind of forget...
that you're holding those little pink tickets there?
What are you saying?
Like you'd be holding something in that hand...
and this hand you'd forget about.
This hand, you'd concentrate on; that hand, you'd go...
""What did I have there? I don't remember.''
You mean, like, if I had--
$200 in this hand?
Let go of my arm!
Two hundred dollars. Please! I'm robbing you.
That's what I'm doing. Here's one, here's two. They're real crisp.
- Now that I think about it-- - Yes?
I have to use your computer because I have to wipe...
all evidence of this transaction out, you know?
No problem at all.
Thank you, Sidney, so much.
Certainly. Yes.
- Also, one other thing. - Yes.
I'm quite sure a man in your position understands...
my contact down at headquarters wouldn't want his name known.
- Don't I know it? - Right.
Could you excuse me for a second while I clear this up?
Yes. It's secretive. It's like a James Bond thing. Yes.
- Thank you. - No problem!
No problem at all! Anything you want to use!
- I can't believe what-- - I don't want to hear it.
How you doing? What do you got?
Strange. Before 1 9 7 8, everything's blank.
It's classified, but his policy date's 1 97 4.
So I checked our London office and found out something interesting.
Dent was the Cultural Attache...
to the East German Embassy in Honduras.
He's got a racetrack, shooting club...
drilling rig companies...
an oil company.
- Oil company? - That's his biggest business.
From the looks of these records, seems like Dent's in trouble.
- What do you mean? - He's let his insurance lapse...
on everything in the last six months.
Dent Petroleum, even the shooting club.
All his businesses, except one.
- Which one is that? - The racetrack. Empyrean Fields.
He's got a huge policy on that one.
Good.
Great. Hey, Bogomil?
- When your father wakes up-- - He's up and around.
Tell him you found his man.
Bye-bye.
Empyrean Fields.
He's not gonna rip off his own racetrack.
- He would if it was insured. - What was in the files?
We won't find any oil field equipment if we find Dent.
What do you mean?
Dent's Costa Rican visa application had today's date on it.
-Yeah? -If we don't hurry, he's gone.
I don't know what happened on the City Deposit.
- And the Foley hit? - I don't know.
That's why I need you to go along personally...
to make absolutely certain nothing goes wrong.
I'm on the team. Of course.
- What? - I broke it.
- You broke it? - You beat the computer?
- What's it say? - It says--
""Screw you, cops. Signed Carlos.''
- Puercos ain't cops. - ""Pigs.'' Another word for cops.
Wait a minute. Carlos.
It is Charles Cain. Carlos is Spanish for Charles.
Cain changed his name.
He was probably a poor kid who didn't want to be a poor man.
- So Cain is the alphabet robber. - I didn't say that.
The first code was very hard. This is real easy.
Whoever did this wanted the cops to figure it out.
Don't tell me, Axel. You ran numbers too?
- I wasn't always a cop. - He fractured an occasional law.
Freeze! Hit the floor!
Freeze! Goddamn it!
1 :30!
1 :1 5!
Thirty seconds!
Time!
Good-bye, Mr. Cain.
I'm afraid our horse didn't come in.
Cain's did.
- Police officer! - Police!
We're a little late.
All I can tell you right now is that we are confident...
that we have identified the alphabet bandit.
The man was shot dead at the scene this morning...
by security guard Jack Stiles.
In his latest robbery attempt, the man was fatally wounded.
So I give you my oath right here...
there will be no F crime.
My own computer team personally cracked...
the alphabet bandit's code this afternoon.
All of the notes, mind you, were signed Carlos.
Carlos, which, as you all know, is Spanish for Charles.
Do you hear what I'm saying?
If Cain's the man, where's the money?
Where's Dent?
You said he was shipping oil equipment to Central America.
But how, where?
- Let's put an APB out on Dent. - For what reason?
- Where did you get that? - What?
It's coming from there.
Excuse me. How did all the mud get on the horse?
He was grazing in the pasture.
Where's the pasture at?
There. Dent's oil field.
Bogomil had that red mud all over his sneakers.
I think somebody gave him a tip, and he came here to check it out.
That's when they tried to waste him.
But who pulled the alphabet jobs?
Dent's going broke.
So he heists some bank, heists some jewelry...
then he throws this easy code at the cops and puts Cain's name on it.
It's real simple. You frame Cain, kill Cain.
Cain's the alphabet killer. Dent gets away. Case closed.
Why would an oilman risk this, even if he was down on his luck?
Dent's not buying oil field equipment...
he's buying guns from Thomopolis.
Probably selling them to his contact in Central America.
Why isn't he just splitting with the stolen cash?
Dent can buy guns here for a million bucks...
and sell them there for ten million.
- Look at all that oil. - I don't see oil.
I see trucks.
Come on, Billy.
What are you doing?
I've been wanting to wear this for a while, Sarge.
Are you nuts?
Jesus Christ. We gotta talk! What the hell is this?
You can never have too much firepower.
- Come on! - Shit.
Bogomil was here.
- Do you like rap music? - Yeah.
Turn around real slow then.
I'm from the American Rap Coalition. Throw that gun over there.
If you like rap music so much, how come you ain't smiling?
- I'm smiling. - Smile real big. Let's do a rap.
Yo, baby
Say ow
- Those look like oil pumps? - Looks like World War III.
- Here, Billy. - What?
You don't have one of these, do you?
You guys hang around the back. I'll check out the front.
Yeah.
What are you doing?
- Element of surprise. - What?
Are you nuts?
Fool the connecting wire...
into thinking it's still intact.
These documents are self-explanatory and will make your life easier.
They require your signature.
You still got that thing? It's a bad idea, Billy.
Of all the ideas you've had, this is the worst.
- You know what you're doing? - Trust me.
Come on!
Let's get them!
Get down!
""Pull pin.''
- What are you doing? - ""Extend.''
""Pull open and--'' Wow.
""Release safety.''
Aim through there and push this.
Fuck Rambo.
Try to get to the other truck, get it out of here!
- Cover me. - Go, Axel!
Let's get the hell out of here!
Hold it!
Stay right there!
Freeze!
All right. Lay your weapons down.
Mr. Foley.
You involved yourself in business that doesn't concern you.
That was a mistake.
Good-bye.
Women.
Come on. Let's go.
Police! You're under arrest!
I think they know that.
Drop your weapons! Put your hands on your heads!
They've got their hands up.
What took you guys so long?
Shit. We're in trouble now.
Goddamn it. Axel's AWOL.
Maybe we can get out of this if we keep quiet. Don't say anything.
Looks like a goddamn war zone. What have you done here? Tell me.
- We solved the alphabet crimes. - You shut up!
Who is talking to you? I solved the alphabet case over an hour ago.
And you! I don't care what federal agency you say you're working for.
- You're in jail, buddy. - Chief, wait--
Shut up! Bringing down a fire fight in the middle of my city?
You're out of the cop business for good, forever!
-Just listen a minute. - Shut your mouth once and for all!
No, goddamn it! You shut up!
This is what the alphabet crimes are all about!
Guns! That guy sold them and Dent bought them...
with stolen money from Adriano's and his own racetrack!
He was on his way to Central America.
If'd you'd bother to take your head out of your ass...
you'd see we solved the whole thing!
Watch yourself!
Just a minute. Why didn't I know about this?
Because Chief Lutz doesn't have the guts...
to hear the truth from real cops.
That's why we had to go undercover with Foley to solve this case.
That cuts it. You're fired!
- Yeah? Kiss my ass! - Kiss mine!
You're fired too! Isn't that right?
I think I've had it with your abusive attitude.
- I'm sorry. I get carried away. - You are fired.
- Do you understand that? - Don't overreact, Ted. Please.
I want you out of here now. Get out of here! Fired!
- You'll regret this. - I've regretted it for months.
- You're fired too. Out of here. - I didn't do anything.
- Get out! - Are they civilians now?
- You bet. - I'm gonna kick your ass later!
Thank you so much, really.
I've got to go to a charity meeting for the homeless of Beverly Hills--
Food for the homeless? I'd like to make a donation.
Here's $200 in the name of Sidney Bernstein.
That's my alias. I don't like a lot of publicity.
Thank you, Axel-- I mean, Sidney Bernstein.
Thank you, gentlemen, very much.
Thank you, sir.
""Get your head out of your ass''?
""Kiss my ass''?
You're getting more like me every day.
Next thing, you'll have afros...
big dicks and all.
- You make chief of police yet? - That's right.
You are the new chief of police?
Inspector Todd, Ted Egan, the mayor of Beverly Hills.
As I said to your mayor, I want you to know...
how thankful we are that you allowed Foley...
the time to help us with this case.
According to him...
he's acquired all his skills under your expert tutelage.
Certainly. He's just arrived.
""Expert tutelage''? What have you been telling them?
When you're done, let me talk to him.
Now that you're done being a California hero...
you better get your ass back here to your real job.
Yeah, I'm leaving now.
In fact, my ass left already. I got to catch up with it.
There's one other thing.
Your secret undercover partner, Mario Andretti Friedman...
wrecked the goddamn Ferrari.
Here, you talk to Jeffrey.
It wasn't even my fault. That's the funny thing.
There was a bus coming-- Hello? He hung up.
You don't have to go home now.
Let's go to Mexico and catch another marlin.
I ain't going fishing. It's too tiring.
I'm going back to Detroit for some old-fashioned street violence.
Why don't you come with me? Your wife left. Hang out a while.
I know a lot of girls that'd like to hang out with you.
- Maureen came back. - Did she? Congratulations.
The people you least expect-- The man is a stud.
We ain't even know it. All this time, swinging.
She couldn't live without you?
Her mother didn't have cable TV.
It was your cable that brought her back.
- I'm off. - Thanks a lot, Axel.
You don't gotta thank me. I love you guys.
- See you around. - Be cool, man.
Is there anything we can do for you?
Yeah, take care of my uncle's house till he gets back.
Axel, that's not really your uncle's house, is it?
Yeah. Trust me.
All right, what the hell is going on here?