Charlie's Angels (1976–1981): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Killing Kind - full transcript

The Angels investigate the death of a young reporter named Brooke Anderson, who had written a manuscript containing evidence of a major scandal going on at the Moonshadow resort. Jill poses as a tennis instructor, Kelly a fashion photographer and Sabrina as a fashion designer. Bosley is supposed to be her model, only his wife packed the wrong kind of shoes to go with his tux.

Once upon a time,

there were three little girls
who went to the police academy.

And they were each assigned
very hazardous duties.

But I took them away
from all that.

And now they work for me.

My name is Charlie.

All right, let's not
play word games.

You know what I want.
Why don't you be reasonable?

You're wasting your time.

I have nothing more
I want to talk with you about.

Miss Anderson.
The manuscript.

How much you want for it?

It's not for sale.
Neither am I.

And I'm not going
to be frightened

by any more
of your threats.

If something
should happen to me,

I promise you that everything
I found out about Moonshadows

will still reach my publisher,
with instructions to forward

to the Senate
Investigative Committee.

You're way out of your league,
little girl.

Now, I know you got somebody
working with you at Moonshadows.

I'm going to find out whoever
it is, and your manuscript.

I can do it the nice way,
with your help.

Or I can do it the ugly way.

Whichever way you do it,
Mr. Terranova,

I can assure you you're going
to wind up with a subpoena

and a lot of interesting
questions to answer.

Okay. Do you number, Inga, baby.


Sorry to interrupt
your pursuits of happiness

on a gorgeous day
like today, Angels,

but I've had
an emergency come up

that needs the feminine touch.

This one came in
from my ex-wife,

along with a request
for more alimony.

I didn't know you
were married, Charlie.

Once was enough to convince me

that I am not monogamous
by nature.

What a shame.
Any children?

Ah-ah, Kelly. You know
that Charlie does not like

to answer personal questions.

That's true.

However, I take no offense,

It's just that thoughts
of my marriage

tend to remind me of the fellow
who woke up one morning

to find out he was dead.

It ruined what otherwise could
have been a beautiful day.

What have you got
for us, Charlie?

An old friend, Sabrina.

One George Anderson.
A hell of a sailor.

Ship's captain until
his eyesight went

a dozen or so years ago.

Now he's blind
and in retirement.

We ready, Bosley?

All set, sir.

A body was found
by some surfers yesterday

washed up on
a south-coast beach.

George Anderson's daughter,

Drowned in waters
near Moonshadows,

one of a chain
of status resorts

financed by
an eastern conglomerate.

Brooke's drowning was officially
recorded as accidental.

But George Anderson has reason
to believe it was murder.


Brooke was an investigative

She lived at Seacliff
near the resort

and she'd indicated in a letter
that she wrote her father

a day before
she was found dead,

that she was working on an
explosive, Watergate-type story

at Moonshadows.

Subject of story, Charlie?

George doesn't know, Angels.

Brooke said in the letter

that she'd be writing him again
with details.

But the second letter
never arrived.

He does know that the resort
director, one Paul Terranova,

was someone Brooke
was frightened of.

She mentioned a second name
in connection with the story,

a William Dignam, also that she
was working with an informant.

William Dignam.

Could he be the informant,

It's a possibility.
You find that informant

and you'll probably find
the key to the case.

Bosley will give you
your covers.

Take care, Angels.

If Brooke Anderson
was murdered

by someone connected
with Moonshadows,

you'll be combing
dangerous territory.

What about you, Charlie?

Are you going to be
with us on this one?

CHARLIE: I truly would love
to be with you, Angel,

but I'm anchored in
on another caper.

Twice as hard
as the usual affair.

Double trouble,
you might say.

Now, that's a foxy lady.



I'm Jill Munroe,
the fill-in instructor.

Yeah, I've been
expecting you.

The front office told me
you've been working Vegas.

Yeah, I was teaching
at Caesar's and the Hilton.

A couple of ranches
in Arizona before that.

Let me give you a tip.

People around here don't
like a lot of questions.

So the fewer you ask,
the better off you'll be.

The boss' wife.

She's, uh, here
for her tennis lesson.

Say, see Manny
in the tennis shop.

He'll give you a rundown
on your duties.

The way you look, you shouldn't
have any problem at all

putting smiles on the faces
of those dirty old men

who come down here

to "straighten out
their backhands."


I'll see you.

Excuse me, my dear.

You are one of the pros,
aren't you?

You guessed it.

And you want to straighten out
your backhand, right?

Why you must be
a mind reader, girl.

Name's Harvey. Harvey Sunday,
from Phoenix.

I'm in ladies' lingerie.

"Sunday's Undies,"
we call them.

Now, we can hit a few

or we could discuss my game
over a gin fizz at the bar.

Either way,
I'm a big tipper.

And I just bet with that golden
personality of yours,

you know just about everything
that goes on around here.

I knew you'd be here, didn't I?


Let me tell you about my new
line I'm manufacturing.

You know I call them
"Harvey's Candy Panties."


I'm still going through
the personnel files.

Kitchen, laundry,
housekeeping, bellmen,

the service departments.
We've covered them all.

We're running a security check
on every guest, staff member

and employee.

We're bound to turn up
something soon,

some connection
to the Anderson girl.

I'm sure of it.

Angelo, if you don't,

you're going
to be back in Chicago

pounding a beat.

Taking nickel and dime grafts
to feed your kids.

I want some results,
and I want them fast.


What did you find
in the apartment?

Well, I used the keys
from her purse to get in

and went over everything.

These were beside a typewriter
in the apartment.

This is Braille.

Brooke Anderson
wasn't blind.

So who was?

It's addressed
to a Mr. George Anderson

on Pacific Coast Highway.

Might be her brother,
or her father.

This might be
what we're looking for.

The County Center
for the Blind.

Take them there.
Get them translated.

All right.


Take it easy, Inga.

Mr. Terranova.

Mr. Terranova.

You are wanted
in the cocktail lounge.

Mr. Terranova?


Hi. I'm Kelly Garrett.

I'm on assignment
from Fashion Daily.


I'm sure you've seen
my stuff.

Vogue, Harper's Bazaar,

I've been working
out of New York mostly,

but this is
my second trip here,

and I'm really getting turned on
by the California sun.

I hope so.

I'm sure I must have seen your
work someplace, Miss Garrett.

Doctor, why don't you give
the nice lady your chair?

We can discuss
our business later.

Yes, of course.

I'm sorry if I'm
interrupting something.

No, no, no.
The good doctor doesn't mind.

Besides, you're much more
attractive than he is.

Come on, sit down.

Thank you.

Well, what can I do
to help you?

Well, I was told
you were the man to see

if I wanted to do
a photo layout here.

That's right,
I'm the man.

But we got a little problem
with photos right now.

I'd be happy to have you check
my credentials.

No, no, you see, we have a board
of directors to contend with.

Any publicity has got
to be okayed by them.

I'm not sure I understand
what the hassle is.

I just finished doing La Costa,

they couldn't
have been more cooperative.

Is that right?

I got a good idea.

Why don't you relax
and you enjoy the facilities

for a day or so?

And in the meantime, I can talk
to the board of directors.

See if I can get you
a go-ahead.

Of course,
I can't promise you anything.

I'd appreciate anything
you could do.

I have a deadline to meet

and an editor who'll hang me
by my thumbnails if I blow it.

In the meantime,
I'm sure you won't mind

if I snap a few preliminary
shots of you and the grounds.


Hey, Miss Garrett.

You hard of hearing
or something?

I told you no photographs
until I sanction it.

Now like I said,
why don't you relax,

and enjoy our facilities,
with my compliments?

As a matter of fact, you look
a little tense right now.

Why don't you start in
at the health spa?

Inga, why don't you give the
pretty lady a massage?

Inga's the best.

I promise you.

All right. Why not?

I'm just sorry
you're so camera shy.

Maybe you'll give me
a private sitting

when we get to know
each other better.


Okay. Let's see
how good you are.

Thank you.

Another magazine snoop.

Bug her room.

Get the operators
to log her calls,

and get a maid
to go over her luggage.

If she gets out of line,
or asks too many questions,

I want her reservation


Mr. Anderson?

Oh, I thought I heard someone
at the front door.

Doorbell doesn't work too well,
and I'm too lazy to fix it.

George Anderson.

Sabrina Duncan,
Mr. Anderson.

Charlie Townsend asked me
to come by to see you.

Oh, yes. Good old Charlie.

I appreciate that.

Well, we'll be doing
everything we can

to investigate
your daughter's death.

I know it's
a difficult time for you,

but I was hoping maybe
you could help us out

by answering a few questions.

I don't know
that I can be of any help.

I've been in kind
of a state of shock

ever since it happened.

But why don't we
go for a walk?

I'll tell you whatever I can.

The doctor
who was with Mr. Terranova,

we met the last time I was here,

and I can't seem
to remember his name.


Right. Dr. Dignam.

You know I've been feeling
a little bit run down,

and I thought maybe he could
give me a B-12 shot.

Does he have an office here,
or do I just ring his room?

He is not
a medical doctor.

Oh, I see.

You know, I really find
Mr. Terranova very attractive.

He kind of turns me on.

Have you known him long?

You should relax more
and talk less.

The desk told me
I was up next for a massage.

You're early.

Take that table there.


Inga here.

Oh, yes, sir.
I'll be right there.

I'll be right back.

Gee, I hope I didn't
interrupt anything.

I mean, did you two
want to be alone?

That's very cute, Jill.

I feel like the Roller Derby
was just run on my spine.

Any minute I thought
she was going to start singing

"Strangers in the Night."

I did find
our William Dignam.

He's a doctor,
but not an M.D.

Registered here?
I don't know.

Check it out if you can.

How did you do
with our dirty old man?

Oh, I'm getting very strange
vibes from old Harvey.

I mean, one minute he's coming
on like a silver-tongued devil

whose main objective
is to get my clothes off,

and the next minute,
he's questioning me

as hard as I'm
questioning him.

But I did get a line on who's
doing what to whom around here.

Did he know Brooke Anderson?

I never could get
a definite yes or no on that.

Are you sure this guy's
for real?

I mean, "Sunday's Undies"?

He even showed me
some of his samples.


Anyway, I think
he's kind of cute,

in a fatherly sort of way.

I'm meeting him later
for a set of tennis.

Well, watch out for his racquet.


Did Bosley's computer run

on Terranova's Social Security

and I.R.S. records
turn up anything?

The records date back
to the late '60s.

And before that, there's
no trace of his existence.

And the Social Security numbers
of Terranova and his wife

are consecutive.

Social Security numbers

are assigned
as applications come in.

Terranova's pushing 50.

His wife couldn't be more
than 33 or 34.

Consecutive numbers
are impossible,

which means false identities.

And Terranova shut me off

when I tried to snap
a few photographs.

Camera shy.

He has an office
in the hotel.

I want to get in,
look at his files,

and see if I can find a tie
to Brooke Anderson.

Well, there's a cocktail party
this afternoon

for the guests and staff.

That could be a good time,

because he'd be occupied and
you could get into the office.


WOMAN: Inga?

Oh, no. I don't think
my body can take any more.

Oh, Kelly, this could be
the beginning

of a very meaningful


I guess being blind has made me
philosophical about fate.

Where we're all going,
life in general.

Brooke's passing
has made a hole in my life

that can never be filled.

But if that's God's will,

there's not a blessed thing
any of us can do about it.

Mr. Anderson, you told Charlie
that Brooke said in her letter

that there would be
another letter following

with more about the story
she was working on.

The second letter
never arrived.

The first letter must have been
typed in Braille, then?

Is that right?
Yes. Why?

Well, maybe you could
read it to me.

I'd like to go over it and see
if there's anything in it

that could help us
that you might have missed.

Nothing more
than you already know.

I don't have it anymore.

It accidentally
got thrown in with the trash,

and was incinerated.

How did you know Brooke's letter
was typed in Braille?

I saw a Braille typewriter
in her apartment.

You were in her apartment?

I went by to see
if I could find anything there

to support our theory

that Brooke's death
wasn't accidental.

Did you find anything?

No, the apartment
had been ransacked.


We don't think so.

We think it was somebody looking
for the story on Moonshadows.

The rest of your investigation.
Can you tell me anything more?

Afraid we don't have much yet,

but we've got investigators
working on it.

They're examining
the Terranova possibility

and they're trying to find out
who Brooke's informant was.

Mr. Anderson, I'm sure Charlie
will be in touch with you

as soon as we have
anything definite.

I want you to find out

what happened to Brooke,
Miss Duncan.

I need to know
what happened to her.


I'm mad at you.

You know, that's the first time
I've been stood up

since I took my braces off
in junior high.

Sorry, kid.

I couldn't make my lesson.
Something else came up.

Oh, Harvey,
was it something I said?

Nothing personal, girl.
I'll give you a jingle later.

Oh, gee, am I glad to see you.

You know, I was supposed
to leave this racquet in 320

for Dr. Dignam, but I missed him
and the door's locked.

If you could just
open up the door

and leave the racquet inside,
I'd really appreciate it.

Oh, I can't do that.
You'll have to see the manager.

But I don't want to go inside.

I just want to leave
the racquet.

Rules are rules, ma'am.

If you leave the racquet inside

that wouldn't be breaking
any rules, would it?


No, I guess it wouldn't.

If you put the racquet
on the bed,

then he'll see it right
when he comes in the door.

Gee, you're a lifesaver.
Thank you very much.




Did she buy the
hearts-and-flowers routine?

Koslo, you have
so little faith.

For the money you're getting,

it ought to be
Academy Award time.

I guarantee you she left here
believing I was George Anderson.

We'd better head Miss Sherlock
Holmes off at the pass.

How much does she know?

The manuscript. Braille.
Terranova. Moonshadows.

She's on her way
there now.


You take the cutoff road
and catch her.

You want her bruised up a little
or permanently damaged?

I want her dead.


Are you sure it's a tail?

From Anderson's house.

I saw it parked there.

Okay, okay. Just hold on.

I'll run a D.M.V. make.


Sabrina, are you there?

Yeah, in a manner of speaking,

Listen, that car that's been
tailing you. It's leased.

It's registered
to Moonshadows, Incorporated.

Yeah, well, that guy just tried
to fold my car up

like a beer can.

Wait a minute!

You mean, you cracked up
another company car?

That's the second one
this month.

I appreciate your concern for my
physical well-being, Bosley.

I'm very well, thank you,

but they're going to have
to pick up the other guy

with a broom.

Look, I'm on my way
back to Anderson's house

to see if he's all right.

Why don't you call
the Highway Patrol for me

and report the accident,
all right?



Hold it right there!

Whoa, it's me!

How did we know it was you?

How did I know it was you?

We were waiting for you
at Moonshadows.

Bosley called,
said you were headed here

and might need some help.

What's that smell?



Yeah, he was here
less than an hour ago.

It looks like somebody
took him by force.

Took time for a search
before they left.

Brooke's manuscript?
Yeah, it has to be.

They couldn't find it,
so they took Anderson instead.

Have you been able to nail
anything down yet?

Oh, we found our William Dignam.

He's a Doctor of Geology,

also Seacliff County
Planning Commissioner,

and very cozy
with Paul Terranova.

And Charlie's contacts in
Washington have confirmed it.

There is no Paul Terranova.

His birth certificate,
schooling, service records,

all phonies.

Who is he?
Gerald Gallenti.

Indicted seven years ago

for fencing millions
in stolen securities.

He turned state's evidence
against some syndicate friends

rather than take
all the heat himself.

And get this.
After a little plastic surgery,

he and his wife
were given new identities

and a new start in life

as part of the Justice

Witness Relocation Program.

Oh, boy.
Oh, that's beautiful.

That's just beautiful.

You mean, our government
helps a crook start over?

They give him a clean slate,
100 percent rehabilitation,

and Terranova uses it to set up
some new scam at Moonshadows.

It's got something to do
with a new bay marina complex.

In Seacliff?

No, wait a minute.
It can't be in Seacliff.

The only remaining coastline
in the county

is protected by law 62874.

Walking encyclopedia.

Sabrina, you said Terranova

had the local police
in his pocket.

The sheriff was about
as subtle as a riveter.

I get it.

If the sheriff
is bought and paid for,

why not Dr. Dignam, the
County Planning Commissioner?

Is Bosley going to meet you
at the party?

Yeah, we're going to do the
fashion designer-model cover.

I thought Bosley hated
that swishy designer bit?

Oh, he does. This time I'm
the designer and he's the model.


Did you ever feel like
the world is a tuxedo

and you're
a pair of brown shoes?

I mean, how could
my wife do this to me? How?

How could she pack brown shoes
with a tuxedo?

Bosley, the party's not formal.

You're the only one here
in a tux.

Oh, I thought all cocktail
parties were formal.

That man you were talking to.
Do you know him?

Yeah, Harold Stephens.
He's a Senate investigator.

He sure acted
as if he didn't know me.

Are you sure
his name is Stephens?

Yeah, I'm positive.

Charlie and I worked with him

about a year ago
on a fraud case.


That's funny. He told me
his name was Harvey Sunday.

I'm sure he knew
Brooke Anderson.

Harvey Sunday?

That's what the man said.

You know, if he's
a Senate investigator...

Yeah, he could be
on the same track we are.


Kelly told me
to corner Terranova.

Where's Sabrina?

She'll be down in a minute.

Do you know that she takes
even longer getting ready

than you do?

Now, Bosley, I've explained that
to you before.

It's not the dressing time,
it's the bath time.

I always like to take
a long time in the bath,

because a bath
makes me very logical.


Hey, I want to talk
to this man.

Angelo, take Elizabeth
to the bar for a drink,

I'll meet you there
in a minute.

Get yourself a brown tux.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry for interrupting,
Mr. Terranova,

but I just wanted to come over
and say hello.

I'm Jill Munroe,
your new tennis instructor.

I heard we suddenly were booked
for tennis lessons.

Now I can understand why.

You're beautiful.

Thank you.

I thought that
while I was here,

we might be able
to play together.

What a great idea.

Why don't we
have a drink together?

We can discuss my stroke.

Okay, you're the boss.

There's a friend of mine
I've got to talk to.

Don't disappear.

Oh, that's exactly what
I was going to say to you.

I'll be right back.

The sheriff confirms
that it was our car

that went over
the canyon road,

with Spencer in it.

That attorney he was after.

Fitzgerald said she worked
for a Charlie Townsend.

Yeah, I checked it out.

There's a Charles Townsend
Investigations in L.A.

A private eye.
What about Anderson?

He's in the stable quarters.

Inga's giving him a massage.
He's like a clam,

but she's working
on him.

Don't make a move.

It would hurt me to put a bullet
through that beautiful body.

I just wanted
to get to know you better.

Come on.

Where's your sense of humor,
Mr. Terranova?

You know I'm sure if we sat down
alone over a quiet drink

we could work something out.

Yeah, I'm going to give you
that chance.

No Kelly. No Terranova.

How long has she been gone?

Too long. I mean, she should've
been out of there by now.

Bosley, why don't you wait here,

see if Terranova
or Kelly come back,

and we'll check his office.


Mr. Terranova.

We got a problem
at the warehouse.

Dignam is waiting.

Take the lady to the stable.

See if she's ready
for a little dialogue

about who she is and who
she's taking pictures for.

Mr. Terranova, I thought
we were going to have

our own private little talk?

No, that's not exactly
what I had in mind.

What I had in mind was to let
Inga give you another massage.

Maybe some time
in a room alone with her

might improve your personality.

Take it easy, baby.

I'll stay with Kelly.
You take the other two.


Inga's either been massaging him
too much or it's the chloroform.

He's been incoherent.

I haven't been able
to understand a word he says.

I think he fakes it all.

I can make him tell us.

There is a way to reach
under a man's rib cage

to his heart muscle.

One squeeze,
and he either talks or dies.

Did he say anything
about the manuscript?

Claims he doesn't have it.

Says his daughter
never sent it to him.

I'd like to page Mr. John Bosley
in the cocktail lounge, please.

When I first got into this,
all I was supposed to do

was arrange for the purchase
of the bay bottom

and the change
in the bulkhead line.

That's all
I was to be involved in!

Nothing like this!
For me that's it.

Hey, Dignam! Hold it.

I've been paying you
through the nose too long

to have you melt on me now.

Now knock off the babbling.
What happened?

Well, I came out here with
Schilling like you asked me to,

to check out the dredging
and the moving equipment.

Somebody from the hotel
followed me out here

without me knowing it.

We caught him
before he could leave.

He saw the equipment?

And he heard us talking
about the bay-fill.

Where is he?
Well, he's in there.

That's cold-blooded murder.

There's been
two killings already.

There's going to be one more if
you don't keep your mouth shut.

You get back to your office.

And get rid of your files,
just in case.

Go on, get out of here!

Back up the car.
Open the trunk.

We got to get back
to the stables.

We can dump the body on the
North Shore on the way,

we get rid of it
permanently later.


Where is the manuscript?

Freeze! Don't do that!
You okay?

No problem, except
for some bruises from a massage.

How about you, Mr. Anderson?

Who is it? Who are you?

It's okay, Mr. Anderson.

Sabrina works for
Charlie Townsend. So do I.

Can you walk, Mr. Anderson?

I think so. Listen.

Listen, we mustn't let them
get to Brooke's story.

Her manuscript

You've got to tell Charlie

that Brooke mailed me
the manuscript

and a note to hide it
in a safe place.

They've been trying
to force me to tell them.

Mr. Anderson,
we'll figure that out later.

Let's get out of here first.

Sorry I don't have time
for the full massage.

Maybe next time.

Terranova and some others are
coming and they're headed here!

Are they armed?

I don't know
and I don't want to find out.

All right, look, I told Bosley
to meet us near the stables.

The horses!


Come on.
The police are on their way!

Out there!

Charlie is not going
to like this.

Not going to like what?

He was thinking
of trading this car in!

Do you realize what bullet holes
do to the Blue Book ?

You are impossible!

Oh, Bosley, if we pass
a market on the way home,

I'm out of whipped cream.

Harold Stephens,
alias Harvey Sunday,

was Brooke Anderson's
informant, Charlie.

Actually, they were
trading information.

Brooke for her expos?

and Stephens for his
Senate investigation.

Terranova bribed Dignam, the
County Planning Commissioner,

to make an illegal purchase

of bay bottom access land
appear legal.

A steam roller operation,

with a marina complex
and a hotel constructed

that would've been headed
for millions in profit.

All illegal.

Then when Terranova
found Brooke out,

he had his Swedish Amazon
do his dirty work.

Then when they penetrated
Stephens' cover,

he felt he should
do the job himself.


George Anderson sends his
sincere thanks to you, Angels.

Well done. too, Bosley.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Well, right now, I'd better
get back to the case at hand.

Oh, what case
is that, Charlie?

Blond, brunette, redhead?


That's privileged information.

Bless you, Angels.
I'll be in touch.

ANDERSON: Ah, this is
the best time of day, Charlie.

Brooke loved the sunset.

She always used to say:

"A sunset could only be
fashioned by the hands of God."

What's it like
right now?

Like you remember it, George.

A shimmering
tangerine ball,

sliding down into a sea
of blue and green,

like the world's at peace.

Another beer, George?

Yeah. Sounds great.

Give me an ice cold.

And then I am going
to fry you

the damndest mess of fish
you've ever had. Skol !