Hart to Hart (1979–1984): Season 1, Episode 14 - Night Horrors - full transcript

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart.
A self-made millionaire.

He's quite a guy.

This is Mrs. H. She's gorgeous.

What a terrific lady!

By the way, my name is Max.

I take care of them, which ain't easy...

'cause their hobby is murder.

Shut up. Watch TV.

Good evening.

Allow me to introduce myself.

The glorious feeling of being really dead.



Max.

Nerves of steel. We're going out.

Will the two of you be all right alone?

Sure, we'll be fine.

Just don't forget to lock the top lock
when you go out.

Max, is that blood on your collar?

That's all right. Tomorrow's laundry day.

-See you later, Max.
-Don't forget to put the bat out.

-Bat?
-No, thank you.

I don't drink wine.

That was Carlisle Road.
It must be on up ahead here.

I have to tell you,
your friend, Fred, is slightly weird.

And I have to tell you, I met him
through your slightly weird friend Amanda.

They do make a perfectly weird couple,
don't they?



I mean, would you go out of your way
to buy a haunted house?

-It wouldn't be so bad.
-What do you mean?

We could spend the rest of our lives
under a sheet.

How do you like it so far?

Sort of early Charles Addams,
wouldn't you say?

Are Fred and Amanda
really gonna live here?

Are you kidding?

They've already done a spread on this place
_or Better Homes and Gargoyles.

Don't bother waiting
for the parking attendant.

I think I saw his body back there
in the bushes.

Darling, if Bela Lugosi answers the door,
let's just leave.

Good evening.

Good evening.

May I take your coat, madam?

No, thank you. I think I'll keep it.
We may leave in a hurry.

Unique.

Even though the maid didn't show up.

There you are, my darlings.

Amanda.

I was beginning to think that
this was going to turn into a search party.

-I'm sorry we're late.
-Yes, we took a few bad turns.

Well, what do you think of it?

Unique.

I'd give you a grand tour...

but Fred likes everyone to experience
this place on their own.

How interesting.

Fred should definitely change his laundry.

Too much starch.

-Where is Fred?
-Poor Fred.

He was so looking forward to this evening...

when suddenly he had
this wretched presentation for tomorrow.

He said he'd be along just as soon he can.

-Sir.
-Michael.

-Champagne.
-Thank you, Michael.

The real reason Fred isn't here is he can't
crawl out of his coffin until after sundown.

I have news for you, darling.
The sun's been down a long time.

Probably having trouble with the latch.

I'd like to introduce you
to this charming couple, the Harts.

Jennifer and Jonathan,
this is Michael Shillingford.

-How do you do?
-How do you do?

Hello.

Michael is a spinner of Gothic tales.

Please, Amanda.

He's written over 60 thrillers.
You must have read some of them.

Please, Amanda.

I haven't read any of them.

You haven't read any of my books?

-I don't think I have.
-I don't think so.

Sorry.

Well, I never read any of that junk myself.

I can't help thinking we've met before.

I was thinking the same thing.
Probably in one of the local haunts.

The athletic club, perhaps.

Well, actually,
I do most of my working out at home.

He's in excellent shape.

Fred must have slammed his lid.

-Simon.
-Madam.

-Is there anyone upstairs?
-Not that I know of, madam.

Well, it's an old house.
One has to get used to its sounds.

I guess I'm the culprit. I'm Gladys Leary.

I'm the broker who found this house
for Fred and Amanda.

And this is Reverend Tyson.
Jennifer and Jonathan Hart.

-How do you do, Reverend?
-Good evening.

This place would make a terrific tax loss.

Michael, you have no sense of romance.

Amanda, you can't send romance
to the government.

I must admit, Amanda,
this place is not my idea of heaven.

But what do any of us really know
about heaven?

More importantly,
what do we know about hell?

Not much, but I'm sure that
somebody will give us a hint soon.

See what I mean?

Oh, dear.

Amanda, who lived in this house
before you bought it?

A man called Greeley.
He died in the master bedroom.

-Naturally.
-Maybe unnaturally.

Was there anything unusual
about his death?

No, sir. I was with him for 30 years,
right up until the end.

He died quite peacefully.

But I suspect there were
certain unresolved circumstances.

Such as?

I don't think it would be discreet
to talk about them.

Did Fred forget to pay the light bill?

Lorna, I didn't think
you were going to make it.

An inner voice kept warning me of danger,
but I chose to attend in spite of it.

I know what you mean, Doctor.

I sensed the same thing
when I was here before.

Dr. Lorna Phelps,
I'd like you to meet the Harts.

I think you know everyone else.

It was you that I saw in my vision.
Danger to you.

Well, I wish you would have called me,
and told me before I came.

Well, Amanda, you wanted a haunted house.

Obviously, I didn't believe all those stories.

Don't be upset.

Ghosts are not normally known
to hurt the living.

Simon says,
"Take many giant steps to the front door...

"and one long car ride back to town."

-I'm with you.
-Really.

This is the kind of nonsense
I put in my books...

to scare the wits out of silly old ladies
on cold winter nights.

To take it seriously--

I hope you're not cooking dinner
on an electric stove.

My God, man!

You look like you've seen a ghost.

In the dark, something touched me.

Passed over my face like a web,
a gossamer-like thing.

It was cold, unearthly.

Was it like this?

Yes, it was exactly like....

Dinner is served.

Having a good time?

No.

Well, we have to at least wait
until Fred gets here.

You've got that look in your eye.

What look?

That "Oh, boy, am I ever intrigued
by this _mityyille Horror show" look.

Darling...

you have to admit,
aren't you just the least bit curious?

-No.
-No?

Simon, you're such a gem.

We wouldn't have thought of being able
to buy the house unless you came with it.

Simon is not only serving this dinner,
he cooked it as well.

And he's made a devil's food cake
for dessert, Reverend.

Delicious.

Careful, Reverend,
you might have to sell your soul for a bite.

-May I serve you, madam?
-Yes, Simon.

Hope I'm not late for dessert.

I got into this thing on the way over here,
and I just could not get out.

It must be a pain in the neck.

Jonathan, how are you?

Would you mind helping me
unbutton my collar, old boy?

-Fred, you're a scream.
-Yeah.

Tell me Fred, have you ever thought
about playing John the Baptist?

How are you, Reverend?

How did you manage those effects
in the parlour?

Effects? What effects, Michael?

Now don't look so innocent.

The noise, the window, the lights.

Well, if I explained the trick, Gladys,
then it wouldn't be magic.

Now, this should be the most fun
you two have ever had with your clothes on.

Should be.

Well, if you think this is fun,
wait till you see what happens next.

We're going on a treasure hunt.

-A treasure hunt?
-That's what I said.

Sorry, Fred, I've forgotten my shovel.

Boy, you sure could use it now.

We are going to search for the hidden...

Greeley treasure.

What about dinner?

Well, you can have dinner
after we've found the treasure.

That should serve
to stimulate your appetite...

Reverend.

Seems when old man Greeley was
young man Greeley, he had a bride-to-be.

Bought her a veritable fortune in jewels:

diamonds, emeralds, rubies.

The amount was enough
to stagger the imagination.

If you really believe all this,
why are you sharing it with us?

I'm a sport.

Besides, we're having the house
completely redecorated...

and why shouldn't one of you
find the treasure...

instead of the plasterer or the plumber?

And I know if you're lucky, you'll want to
donate everything to my favorite charity:

Me.

I wouldn't be too sure of that, Amanda.

Well, Jonathan's partner
will help him decide that.

-But that won't be Jennifer.
-Why?

In order to keep us all honest, none of us
may search with the person we came with.

Now, while we select our partners,
let's all have a drink.

Good idea.

Why don't we just leave?

-Party pooper?
-Damn right.

Oh, thank you.

Can anyone suggest an appropriate toast
for the occasion?

Begging your pardon, sir...

but Master had one quotation
that he was particularly fond of.

-Perhaps it might do.
-Excellent.

"The evil that men do lives after them.

"The good is oft interred with their bones."

What a lovely thought.

Let the hunt begin!

Wait.

-What is it?
-Something is emanating from this room.

Besides the draught?

Heavy vibrations, Doctor?

Hello, Doctor?

Well, there's no sense in both of us
sitting around here and vibrating together.

I'll just mosey along.

We have to find the master bedroom.

You think that's where he put it?

Well, I think he'd want it close to him,
as if he were next to the woman he loved.

You know what I mean, Reverend?

Hardly, Mrs. Hart.
I think you're being completely subjective.

But let's give it a try.

Good.

No.

Don't tell me you've lost your taste
for the hunt, Michael.

I'm only good when I can smell blood.

You don't believe in the Greeley treasure.

Come on, Amanda, admit it.

We're all simply being victimized by
your husband's perverse sense of humour.

-According to the legends, old Greeley had--
-Legends?

Old wives' tales, you mean.

-Excuse us.
-Be my guest.

-No rest for the wicked, Reverend Tyson.
-Calm down, Amanda.

Something about buried treasure
turns everybody into children.

Maybe we should ask this old buzzard.

He looks like he could tell us a thing or two
about the Greeley legend.

Amanda?

I'm sorry, I was kidding.

Can't somebody else
make a joke around here?

Hi.

Welcome to the dungeon.

-You're feeling no pain?
-That's right.

I came down here looking for the treasure
and look what I found.

-You're in the right spot.
-That's right.

Would you like to help me?

I don't care,
we can drink out of the same bottle.

You're very communicative.

Shine that light over here.

She looks ill.

She always looks that way.

Bless you.

Here, you hold this.

No.

Let's see.

It's a lump. I knew it, I was right!

What we need is a knife.

I'm sorry I can't help you, Mrs. Hart.

Well, you said you wanted a knife.

Thank you.

Oh, my!

-Master Greeley was a junkie.
-A junkie?

A millionaire, octogenarian junkie.

What a great idea for a character.

Bye.

It's really so hopeless.
I mean, this house is so vast.

It'll take months, maybe years,
to go through it.

It is discouraging.

But we must know that
so many before us have been looking.

Why must we know?

Well, I just assumed.

It's sort of like an Easter egg hunt
at Halloween.

Precisely.

Reverend...

don't look now...

but there's a rather vicious looking tiger
behind you...

with a sparkle in his eye.

Well, now that's what I call an eye-popper.

Forgive me, Mrs. Hart.

You mean,
we're not gonna share the door prize?

Isn't it a shame?

It's nothing personal.

You're a lovely lady
and a diamond that size becomes you.

But I've been looking so much longer.

-So that's how you must know.
-Precisely.

But if we were able to ask Mr. Greeley...

I'm sure he would prefer that I have it.

You're sure the bishop won't be jealous...

if you have a ring that's bigger than his?

Step this way, Mrs. Hart.

To the closet, please.

-Must I?
-You must, yes.

I do apologise, Mrs. Hart,
but I must make some effort at getting away.

And to think I could have stayed home
with Dracula.

-Where's Jennifer?
-Master bedroom.

By the time they find you, I should be gone.

If they find you.

Jennifer?

Where are you?

Jennifer?

-Darling?
-I'm in here with Amanda.

-Where is in here?
-Behind the wall.

What are you doing in there?

Push up on the coat hook
and you'll find out.

Darling, what is going on?

The Reverend got away
with a diamond as big as the Ritz.

No, wait!

What are we gonna do now?

-What is this?
-It's some sort of secret passage.

-Where does it lead to?
-Hopefully, to a way out.

Hopefully.

-Anybody seen the Reverend?
-I believe he went out to his car, sir.

Be careful, darling. He's got a gun.

I'd like to talk to you, Reverend.

I'm not armed.

I think you're making a mistake.

What do you say, Reverend?

-What happened?
-Somebody stabbed the Reverend.

Why don't you go back inside the house
and wait?

Is he really dead, Jonathan?

He qualifies for a burial certificate,
if that's what you mean.

-How ghastly.
-You better call the sheriff, Fred.

Yeah.

Darling, what were you saying
about a diamond?

Well, we found this enormous diamond.

I was just about to count the carats...

when the Reverend decided
that Mr. Greeley owed him something.

Well, apparently somebody disagreed.

Leaving without saying goodbye?

-We're going for the police.
-In our car?

Someone seems to have relieved me
of the keys to mine, and yours won't start.

Pull the hood latch, will you?
I'd like to check the water and oil.

Sloppy, but effective.

Sloppier, but even more effective.

We didn't do that.
We just want to get out of here, that's all.

Somebody in this place is a murderer.

Surely, as a crime writer you realise it's
against the law to leave the scene of one?

And it's even more against the law
if you got something to do with it.

-Are you accusing me?
-No, I'm not accusing you.

It's just that I'm not too crazy about your
behaviour, not to mention your attitude.

Let's go back in the house and have a drink.

Well, there's a phone upstairs.

Can't get a dial tone.

-Fred, did you pay the bill?
-Of course I did, when I paid the light bill.

It was working earlier.

Jonathan, the phones are all out.

-Where's the main box?
-In the kitchen, sir.

Okay, everybody, it's gonna be a long night.

-The phones are out and the cars are dead.
-Not to mention Reverend Tyson.

Someone's taken this little party game
too seriously.

Hide-and-seek is over with.
I want everybody in that room and sit down.

Now, wait a minute, who put you in charge?

My wife. She doesn't trust the rest of you.

Well, Jonathan's right. A man is dead.
It's no longer fun and games.

Dr. Phelps is missing.

I'll try to fix the phone.
We'll take a look around.

-Simon, where's the kitchen?
-This way, sir.

If this doesn't work, Simon,
we may have to go outside.

-How are you at climbing poles?
-Like a veritable squirrel, sir.

The sweet humming in my ear.

That should keep you hearing things
for quite some time, sir.

Amanda, I don't really appreciate
being interrogated by you!

I just wondered where you disappeared to
most of the night.

-And what about you?
-I was lost in a secret passage.

-And what about you?
-I had a couple of drinks.

Why don't you ask
where your friend Michael was?

I saw him prowling around all on his own.

Only because your wife ran off and left me.

Well, she sometimes does
the same thing to me.

Well!

Ladies and gentlemen.

Where's Mr. Hart?

I'm afraid I must ask you all to shut up.

-What have you done to my husband?
-He's become the dumb waiter.

You're a smart guy.

I'm going to have to ask you all to
empty out your pockets and your handbags.

And don't try anything.
I know the gun is loaded.

The way I see it, someone in this room
has something we all want.

Something they killed the Reverend for,
something I might have to kill for.

You mean, you didn't kill the Reverend?

If I'd done that, I wouldn't still be looking
for you-know-what, Mrs. Hart.

It would be interesting to find out
who got the you-know-what.

Yes, won't it, Mrs. Hart?

When we know that,
we'll know who did kill the Reverend.

Hi.

It's a little cramped,
but it gets great mileage.

Nothing from the ladies?
Now, how about the gentlemen?

I know that trick.

Looking over my shoulder
as though there were somebody behind me.

-Are you all right?
-Outside of a slight dial tone in my right ear.

By the way, the phone works.
I'll get the police out on this man.

He says he didn't kill the Reverend.

I didn't expect him
to take an ad out in Variety.

She's right.
He was searching us for the diamond.

Variety. That's it.
Mr. Hart, were you ever on the stage?

Only the one from Dodge City.

-Darling, look at the ice.
-What about it?

Look.

Yeah, it's melting.

It must have been in the bucket.

Isn't it beautiful?

It's amazing it didn't break.

Break?

It's glass.

A fake? You're sure?

-Positive.
-It's true.

It only cost $87 at the dime store.

We never really believed all that nonsense
about the Greeley treasure...

so we thought we'd lead you on a little bit.

I put the stuff everywhere, so everybody
would have a chance to find something.

Well, I did. I found mine.

I don't care about the rest of you,
I'm keeping it as a souvenir.

I suppose that brooch that Dr. Phelps
has on is a phony as well.

Yes, I put the stuff everywhere.

I'm sorry,
I thought we'd all be laughing at it by now.

There's nothing very funny
about one of us being a murderer.

I understand perfectly, sir.

It was always amusing
when the Master and I played.

Played? You and the Master?

Yes, madam.

The old gentleman Mr. Greeley
always had the best hiding places.

I could never find the chest when he hid it.

-The chest?
-Yes.

What was in the chest, Simon?

Just what Mr. Fred was saying before.

It was all those beautiful things
the Master had gotten for his bride.

All those beautiful jewels?

Do you know
where the chest is hidden, Simon?

No, madam. He hid it just before he died...

and I was never able to find it,
no matter how hard I searched.

And no one knows this house
better than you.

I don't believe so, sir.

None of us would have a chance
to find it then.

I was afraid one of you might stumble on it.

Particularly you, Mr. Hart.
I've heard how good you are at mysteries.

That's why I hit you over the head,
to discourage you.

I'm terribly sorry, sir.

Damn it!

Then there really is a treasure
and nobody can find it.

Maybe one of us will.

I have an idea.

-Would anyone care to join me?
-Yes.

Now, not all at once, one at a time.
We can all go single file.

No smoking, no pushing, please.

Madam, ladies,
would you like to get your coats?

Simon, do you know
where there's a shovel?

The potting shed, Mr. Hart.

-Happy hunting, sir.
-You're fired.

I think I just got rid of my hiccups.

"Winthrope Greeley."

Rest in peace.

You mean, he buried it with him.

His favorite quote:

"The good is oft interred with their bones."

Maybe he'd made a deal with the mortician.

Well, let's start digging. You first, Fred.

That's it. Pay dirt.

The family plot thickens.

Jonathan.

If you please.

Are you hurrying off
to get that stuff insured?

I'm truly sorry about the Reverend.

He just wouldn't part with that silly stone.

He probably would have died anyway
when he found out it was fake.

Just how do you intend to get out of here?
Call the Auto Club?

No doubt you would have left earlier...

if that car manoeuvre
had been your handiwork.

That bit of clumsiness
was courtesy of Simon.

Fortunately, I'm an auto mechanic.

My only regret, Mr. Hart, is that
you don't recall our previous encounter.

-So it finally came to you?
-Yes.

-And when did it occur to you?
-Just now, when I saw you pull that gun.

The firing range. Sunset Country Club.

'72_73. You took the final rounds.

I'm impressed with your memory.

Although frankly...

in '73, I don't think you should have allowed
that controversial judge...

to have that decision on the final round.

Why not?

Because if you were a gentleman
and a sport...

we could have shot it out.

And we could have decided the final point
by a totally clean hit.

So, now we get a chance to find out...

who is really the best.

I don't like being second best.

What do you propose, a duel?

Glove across the face?
Twenty paces, turn and fire?

-I doubt if you'd turn your back on me.
-You are so right.

You'll see that
it is properly taken care of, sir.

-You know, you were really gallant.
-You think so?

I guess I was, wasn't I?

Who is it?

I'm coming. All right all ready.

-Who's there?
-It's us, Max.

Open up.

What have you got the door locked for,
anyway?

And what are you doing up so late?

-I must have dozed off.
-How was the late show?

Not so scary after all. How was the party?

Well, we'll wait and tell you about that
in the morning, Max.

-Should I wake you up in the morning?
-No, it's a holiday. Let's all sleep in.

Yeah, we might stay in bed all day.

Right.

What, did something happen at this party
you'd rather not tell me about?

No, Max.

We just want you
to get a good night's sleep.

And don't forget to look under the bed, Max.

All right, good night.

What?