Kolchak: The Night Stalker (1974–1975): Season 1, Episode 16 - Demon in Lace - full transcript

When an ancient stone tablet is unearthed in the Mid East and brought back to American for study, a deadly mystical force is unleashed. Kolchak follows a series of deaths where healthy young men were found dead of heart attacks, each accompanied by the bodies of women who seemed to have died in unrelated circumstances and locations. Kolchak discovers that the murders are the work of a Succubus, a Sumerian demon that assumes the form of recently deceased women and lures men into her deadly embrace.

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It was Goethe who said
we love girls for what they are.

Well, even the great Goethe
could have learned something...

from the tale that took place on
the campus of Illinois State Tech.

May 10, 11:02... Don Rhiner,
the school's star running back...

and candidate for All-American
was out for a drive.

Don never did make All-American.

- Let's walk, Don.
- Sure.

May 11, 10:00 a.m.

I wasn't too choked up with Vincenzo sending
me to an alderman's press conference,

so when I caught the police
report of two bodies being found...

on the I.S.T. campus lake,
it gave me an excuse...



That, and running out of gas,
which I didn't plan.

No signs of trauma
on either one of them.

No address on the girl.

But we know she was a hype.
Look at the spike tracks on her arm.

That look on Rhiner's face...

Yeah, I know.

Just like that other student
we found Thursday... Burdett.

- Like he was scared to death.
- We're gonna have to keep that under wraps,

before somebody blows it up
into another Hindenburg disaster.

Don't worry. Report's got
Burdett dead of natural causes.

Heart attack.
Now this kid too?

Well, there's no law
against dropping dead.

Captain, what do you
think's going on?

Excuse me, Captain.



- How long have you been here?
- Who, me?

- How long?
- Oh. Uh...

"No law against
dropping dead."

You put that on the wire and I'll
have you eighty-sixed permanently.

- I was just passing through.
- Captain, I'm Rosalind Winters.

Just a minute, just a minute. You want to
take another trip in a police car, Kolchak?

- I'm Rosalind Winters and... -
J-Just hush up. Will you shut up?

I take it the department has
a formal writ to suppress, huh?

Who signed it?
Who issued it, huh? Who?

I'm Rosalind Winters,
reporter for the Blue Monitor.

- The blue what?
- The Blue Monitor... the campus weekly.

- Do you have a comment to make?
- Well?

Yeah, but you couldn't print it.

Come on, Mark.
Come on, let's go.

Hi there. My name's Carl
Kolchak. We haven't met. You're...

- Mark Hansen.
- Mark Hansen, you were a friend of the deceased, weren't you?

- Yeah.
- Yes, could you tell me...

Look, Kolchak,
I gotta tell you something.

- Some people dream about retiring.
- Uh-huh.

I dream about
breaking your face.

I love you too, Siska.

- Listen. How's your therapy coming along? A-okay?
- Shut up.

Absolutely bananas.

- Oh! Uh...
- Oh, excuse me.

- Blue Bird...
- Blue Monitor.

Blue Monitor. Yeah.
Where's the nearest gas station?

- About a mile that way.
- About a mile that way.

You wouldn't happen to have
a set of wheels, would you?

- Sure. Come on.
- Yeah?

- Listen. When I said "wheels," I meant four.
- Mm-hmm.

Fill it up?

You know,
I've been thinking, Kolchak.

Now you and I could work together on this
story, because I know this campus inside out.

Sorry. I always work alone.

- Work alone, walk alone.
- What, now wait. Wait a minute.

Let's talk. Let's talk.

Yeah, we can talk
in the cafeteria next week.

Talk or walk, Kolchak.

Well, all right, all right.
We'll talk. We'll talk.

But you talk first, right?

I mean, I'm new around here. You're
supposed to know this campus backwards.

Well, it's weird, you know? I mean,
finding Don Rhiner by that girl's body?

They found Pete Burdett
with a dead girl too.

- Well, I didn't hear that.
- Well, a good reporter has her contacts.

- Who was the girl? Where was she from? What'd she die of?
- Uh, I'm... I'm working on that.

How about some facts?
Some names? Dates?

Was she dressed, was she nude,
was she half nude? What?

- I don't know.
- What about, uh... What's his name?

- Burdett?
- Burdett, yeah, and Rhiner?

They have any previous
history of heart attack?

- I don't know!
- What kind of reporter are you?

I said I was working on it.

When you finish working on it and
you get some facts, let me know.

- Some collaboration.
- Some reporter. Well, aren't you gonna...

Wait, wait. Where
you... Wait a minute!

Hey, wait!

I can't understand why the Coaches'
Association is interested in all this.

We're building a file on unusual
heart disease cases, Coach.

- You see...
- I'll be out in a minute.

Now-Now, Coach, you claim
that Don Rhiner...

- was in perfect physical condition, right?
- Right, right.

And that you checked out
Pete Burdett's medical history,

and he was a picture of health when
he tried out for the swimming team, right?

- Actually, Burdett never made the team.
- No?

You see, his butterfly stroke
was like an effeminate moth.

- Oh, pity.
- Both those boys had perfect E.K.G.'s.

Then how do you explain two young
men... two perfect physical specimens...

Dropping dead
from a heart attack?

Do you want the usual rationalization,
or can you handle the truth?

No, I can handle the truth,
Coach. Always the truth.

Don Rhiner was a playboy,
and he paid the price... bacteria.

Bacteria? Germ... You mean
germs? What kind of germs?

Take your pick.

You see, I'll tell you
what I tell all my boys.

- There's a war going on, right here inside the body.
- Right here, huh?

Right. And there are only
two basic game plans:

Absolute physical hygiene,

and the other?

Tuna fish?

Tuna fish.

10:25.

Craig Donnelly and Betty Walker
arrived at Donnelly's apartment...

after dinner and a few too many
glasses of champagne.

- Wait right here, okay?
- Okay.

The bubbly had tasted good, but for Betty
Walker it might as well have been strychnine.

And away we go!

I need an ambulance.
Hurry!

187 Felicity Street.

Oh!

The same night, 11:00 p.m.

The on-campus living quarters of
archaeology professor C. Evan Spate.

Spate, a recipient of a coveted
Pace Institute grant,

and his student assistant, Mark Hansen,
were attempting to discover the meaning...

in a piece of clay
some 10,000 years old.

You don't really seem
to be with it tonight, Mark.

- Why don't you knock off?
- Yeah, I'm sorry, Dr. Spate.

I guess I'm more upset about
Don Rhiner's death than I thought.

- Yeah.
- I think I will knock off.

- It's coming along.
- Yes, it is. Good night, Mark.

Good night.

On the night of May 11, they
would both make a discovery.

- Yes?
- Hi.

You don't know me,
but I wanted to meet you,

and I didn't know anyone
to introduce us.

So, uh...

Am I interrupting anything?

No. No, not at all.

Come on in.

Can I tell you something dumb?

Mm-hmm.

I want to touch your face.

I've seen it so many times.

I just want to convince myself
I'm really here.

Touch away.

It's a fine face.

Now what time did you see
the girl come into this room?

It was about 11:00, 11:30.

- Yeah, the news was just off the air.
- Mm-hmm.

- You never saw her before, huh?
- No. Chicks float in and out of this building like pollen.

But her, now her I'd remember,

but I don't.

Her name was Betty Walker.
Does that ring a bell?

- Nope.
- She resided at 602 Weyland Avenue, North Side.

Is that a popular address
for the boys in this frat?

No. And it's "fraternity."
We don't call it a frat anymore.

Don't get lippy with me, boy.

I might be tempted to go into
your room and kind of poke around.

Might find some
funny vegetables in there.

Captain, the girl has a major
contusion at the base of her skull.

I think we can attribute death
to a severe blow.

What about the boy?

Well, we're gonna need
some more tests,

but you can see for yourself
the look on his face.

Same as the others... scared.

- Kolchak!
- I'm Rosalind Winters, reporter...

- I know who you are!
- Siska, you can't have that cassette!

- You get your hands... -
You can't have that cassette!

- You can't interfere with the law.
- You can't do that!

That's an abridgement of the First
and the Fourth Amendment. You can't...

One more word out of you, and
I will book you on illegal entry.

- Now you get out of here.
- I'm gonna bring you up on charges with the ACLU.

And take Tonto with you. Go, Tonto!

Aw, shut up!

Big fink ought to go
back into therapy.

- Hey, Kolchak, you still owe me.
- Consider ourselves even, Tonto.

Well, what about that lunch
you promised me?

May 11, 12:15 p.m.

My first stop had
been Betty Walker's apartment.

Number two was an address
furnished me by Betty's roommate...

The apartment of
Craig H. Donnelly.

- So then what happened?
- I ran up to that phone and called for an ambulance.

When I came back down,
she was gone.

Well, maybe...
Maybe she was still conscious.

I spent three years in Vietnam.

I know when someone's dead...
And Betty was dead.

How could she just
disappear like that?

Maybe somebody carted her off.

What, in 30, 40 seconds?
No way.

Besides, this place
was quiet... deserted.

All I know is, I'll never
forget seeing her gone.

- And that smell.
- What smell?

- You ever been around a war, Kolchak?
- Yeah, a couple of them.

Then maybe you'll know
what I'm talking about.

Smells like death.

Oh, yeah.

- Good afternoon.
- Wait your turn, please.

May I... help you?

Yeah. My name's Kolchak.
I'm with Internal Affairs.

- I've come for those records.
- What records?

What do you mean, what records? You mean to tell
me that P.R. didn't contact you through I.A.?

What's the matter?
Are you new here or something?

- P.R. never goes through I.A.
- What?

Sure, P.R. can go to G.S., and
then go through I.A., but never directly.

Well, that's exactly
what I meant.

Now, I've got a court order here
for the school records...

of Peter Burdett and
Don Rhiner and Mark Hansen.

One more step,
and I put a staple...

- right through that necktie to your backbone.
- You'd do it too.

All court orders
have to go through C.L.D.

That's the blue long form, JS-6,
with Dean Sweeney's initials.

- You know, the long blue form.
- Mm-hmm.

They may try to give you a short
yellow and palm that off on you.

Don't let 'em do it. You tell 'em
you want a JS-6, you hear me?

Mm-hmm.

Security?
I thought you said I.A.

As far as anybody else is
concerned around here, I am I.A.

- Oh.
- Oh.

Ah! Nobody goes in there.

All right.

Now you just fill out this form,
nice and legibly.

Mm-hmm. Okay.

No.

- I said legibly.
- Legibly. Okay.

K-O-I...

- Good?
- Mm-hmm. Good.

Forms 22...

"They bombed in London's
theater district." Nine letters.

I thought you said crossword
puzzles were for fools.

Well, I do have to check on people's work around
here, don't I? Even though it's very boring.

"They bombed
in London's theater district."

Let's see. Oh! The Old
Vic. The Old Vic Company.

- Something like that.
- "Luftwaffe." - Right!

You see, Mr. Vincenzo, every
puzzle has to have a theme,

and the theme of this puzzle
is World War II.

Oh, how cheery.

- Have you screwed up the filing system again?
- Of course.

Well, Kolchak, welcome home.

Now where have you been all day?

At the county morgue,
for one place.

What a gala group this is. You
come in and out as you please.

You're a regular bon vivant,
aren't you?

Tony, did you know
that Don Rhiner,

the All-American prospect
from Tech, was found dead...

- of a heart attack at age 20?
- Yes. I don't want to hear anything more about it.

- You already know about it then?
- Yeah, with a girl, right?

- It's tragic. It's very tragic.
- Yeah.

That kid could really find a
hole and go right through the line.

Yeah, but the girl
is the interesting part, Tony.

You see, her name was
Marlene Franks. She was a junkie.

- She died from an overdose eight
hours... - I don't want to hear about it.

Eight hours before
Don Rhiner died.

Now last week, Peter Burdett,
another healthy student,

was found dead in the arms of a girl, but
she had been dead from a brain aneurysm.

- Huh? Now, they didn't release that, Tony.
- Well, no wonder.

In the '60s, the kids used to bust windows
and pelt Marine recruiters with rotten fruit.

Now that was bad enough.

But today it seems that every school is an
extension campus of Weirdsville University.

- No, no, Tony...
- It's days like this that...

make me wish I'd stuck
to playing the drums.

- I didn't know you played.
- Oh, back in the '40s in college, sure.

- Playing drums? You playing drums?
- Yes, that's right.

You haven't got a
syncopated bone in your body.

- You walk off-rhythm.
- What are you talking about?

I had a band of my own...
Tony Vincenzo's Neapolitans.

We won the Westchester County
battle-of-the-bands contest in 1940.

And our rendition
of "Stomping at the Savoy"...

brought the house down.

- I'll bet it did.
- Yes, it did. Should have stuck to it.

Lately I've been getting very
disheartened with the news service.

- Wait a minute, Tony.
- I don't want to hear any more morbidity.

Yeah, well, who does?

But, Tony, last night another
kid, named Mark Hansen...

You're sending me
into a blue funk.

He got...
He-He-He got killed too.

Now Hansen had been working
as an associate,

- helping out Professor C. Evan Spate, an archaeologist...
- So?

Who's busy deciphering
some ancient clay tablets...

that were discovered in the
Near East by Dr. Julius Whitehead.

- Whitehead... Julius Whitehead?
- Yeah.

Didn't we carry an item
on him recently?

He found something in a desert
somewhere and went bananas?

- Yeah. Iraq.
- What?

- He went bananas in Iraq.
- He should have stayed in Chicago.

The same thing would have happened. He would
have saved travel expenses and jet lag.

That's only part of what happened
to this Whitehead expedition.

It says here in the article that
he had two assistants that...

Basta. Basta, Carl. Basta.
That's enough.

Enough.
Now the conversation is over.

- Now, look. I've considered a shift in policy.
- Shift?

Why should we always accentuate
the gruesome and the sensationalism?

I think we might be very happy, and probably
take a chunk out of our competition...

if we tried, really tried,
to seek out the good news.

- Good news?
- Carl, wrap up the story you're working on.

Bring it to
an upbeat conclusion.

Then find out what and who is responsible for
the death of those fine American young boys.

You understand that? And then
tell the public that the campuses...

are all cleaned up.

And then I'm gonna find
an assignment for you...

that's gonna be uplifting
and happy.

Upbeat. Happy.

Yeah. What would you say
to a feature series...

about the wit and humor
of Chicago?

Bone-tickling anecdotes
of the city's history.

He didn't have to go
to the desert.

And I think that...

Yes, that's excellent,
and that...

Oh, yeah, no doubt of that.
Yes, yes. Fascinating, fascinating.

May I say, by the way,
that you're a very generous man?

You're to be congratulated for having a
younger, inexperienced man like Mark...

- Uh, what was his name?
- Mark Hansen.

Hansen, yes. Allowing him to
participate in this important project.

- You know what I was doing with Mark, Mr. Kolchak?
- No, actually, I don't.

I was trying to give
him a taste of antiquity,

- hoping he'd catch the bug, as it were.
- It is infectious, isn't it?

- Yeah.
- Yes. Now, Professor, as we understand it,

you're on a grant from a
medical science institute...

to translate this tablet,
is that correct?

Yes. Uh...

- Whitehead, as you know, stumbled over this...
- Stumbled.

In the Lower Valley between the
Tigris and Euphrates Rivers of Iraq.

Yes, yes,
the Mesopotamian Empire.

At first, this tablet was thought to be
just a remnant of the Dead Sea finds,

but these symbols
are definitely Sumerian.

Mm-hmm! Hmm!

Oh, yes, absolutely Sumerian,
yeah.

Now, as you can see also, it's only
about a quarter of the way complete,

but it seems to be
some sort of, uh,

religious rite or, uh,
maybe even a form of recipe.

Recipe, yes, yes.
I can see that, yes.

I notice
the symbol for "mint"...

- that you've translated so very well down here.
- Mm-hmm.

Yes, it's probably
some preparation for lamb.

Uh, yeah. Yes.

I, uh... One of these symbols
no doubt translates as "jelly."

- Hmm. Yeah.
- Mint jelly.

- But I haven't been able to crack it yet.
- Oh, well, you will in time.

But I doubt very much
it was jelly, actually.

You see, they had no gelatinous substance at
that time, except, of course, calves' feet.

They didn't use that very much.

I would assume it would
be a sauce... mint sauce.

The mint here has nothing to do
with leg of lamb, Mr. Kolchak.

This formula is concerned with
the rendering and the minting...

of precious metals
by divine means.

You don't really work for the
Archaeological Quarterly, do you?

- Well, yes, of course. Certainly I do. Yes. Yes. Part-time.
- Uh-huh.

What occupies you full-time?

- Independent News Service.
- Oh, yeah, right.

I'd like you to leave,
Mr. Kolchak.

You can be sure that I'll be talking
to your editor about this little charade.

Oh, good. He's in the mood for
some bone-tickling anecdotes.

But let me bring up something to
your attention that's not so funny.

According to student records, not only
did the late Mark Hansen work for you,

but Peter Burdett was
in a class that you teach.

And the late Don Rhiner
was one of Mark's best friends.

The police have already talked
to me about that coincidence.

- There wasn't much I could offer them.
- Oh. Oh.

They apologized for taking my time, then
they left. I'd like you to do the same.

Maybe you could offer me
something on another coincidence.

Would you get up
out of that chair, please?

The bad luck the Whitehead
expedition appeared to be plagued with...

It seems that his young assistant
dropped dead of a heart attack too.

I can't explain that. I am an
archaeologist, not a cardiologist.

- Would you please leave!
- Well, I can't.

You see, the door's locked.

- Give me that film.
- What film?

I'm not going to get physical
with you, but I'll tell you this.

If you even attempt to publish
a photograph of that tablet,

I'll sue those seersucker pants
right off your can.

- Now get out of here!
- Dr. Spate, could you tell me,

why do you think a man of
Julius Whitehead's reputation...

suddenly went berserk
in the Iraqi desert?

If you knew Whitehead,

you'd understand that he went
berserk long before he got to Iraq.

Some of us are scientists,
Mr. Kolchak,

but all Whitehead ever had going
for him was dumb, blundering luck.

But if you look around, you'll see
that he's not here to translate the tablet.

- I am.
- Congratulations.

I'm going.

May 12, 5:45 p.m.

Maria Vanegas, 20,
entertainer in an after-hours café,

was perpetually tired
from the hours she kept.

When she arrived home
early that morning,

she'd put on some coffee,
stretched out to rest her eyes,

and waited for the gas burner
to get the coffee good and hot.

The coffee never got hot,
and Maria grew very, very cold.

Maria?

Maria? ¿Qué pasa?

Maria?

Maria.

Dios mío.

Carlos! Carlos!

Carlos!

Carlos! Carlos!

"Asmodeus, chief of demons, creator of
all lesser demons, both male and female."

Hey! I could use that. How do you
spell his name, this Asmo-what's-it?

Oh, Asmodeus? Yeah, Asmo...
A-S-M-O-D-E-U-S.

Asmodeus.
Eight letters, honey.

- Eight letters, eight letters.
- Mm-hmm.

- Uh, chief of demons.
- That's right, chief of demons.

"Like their creator Asmodeus,

"demons can take on many guises,

"but are often pictured
as horrible creatures...

"accompanied by a foul stench...

"which they give off at moments
of diabolic excitement or activity...

A stench of corruption,
rot and noxious brimstone."

Brimstone! Oh, great.
I can use that.

"Ahra Manyu... Ahra Manyu."

- All right, listen up. Listen up, everybody.
- Ahra Manyu?

Listen up. I just dropped
my idea in the well,

and you should have heard
the splash it made with New York.

From now on, we are gonna make
our best effort to write our stories...

with dignity, grace and humor.

And we are gonna devote as much
time as we can to finding stories...

that are dignified and graceful
and humorous in the main.

Aha! "Arhu Manyu." Aha.

"Persian for Eblis, the devil,
the prince of fiends."

- Carl, Carl. What station are you tuned into?
- What?

How is the prince of fiends
gonna fit into my new directives?

How is it gonna do that?

Oh, well, the three students
that were killed out at Tech?

Well, they were all related, more
or less, to Dr. Spate, you know,

who's translating
the Sumerian cuneiform...

in the Whitehead tablet.

Yeah, oh, here's what... Here's what
the tablet says. I got a picture of it.

"The prince of fiends decrees.
The chief of demons executes."

No, listen to this, Tony.
Listen to this.

"Death shall reside throughout"...
Someone, something.

See, I can't translate that.
It hasn't been translated yet.

Someone... Uh, "She shall
have reign." See, Tony?

Carl, I don't care
what the tablet actually is,

whether it's an ancient guest record
of the "Nebanezzar" Motel or what.

- Nebuchadnezzar.
- Now... Now...

How is this drivel
gonna help you...

write up your story and complete
it, about these terrible deaths?

Well, it-it says that she shall have
reign, Tony. Now, who is "she"?

I mean, all these kids were found
with their arms around dead women,

but nobody knows
how they got there.

Carl, this doesn't make any sense at all.
It is not dignified. It is not graceful.

It is a downer... a downer!

You know... You know something?

I think the good Dr. Spate might know. I
mean, he's been living with those tablets.

- I'll have to talk to him about it.
- Carl, look.

Ron has been doing
some preliminary research...

- on humorous anecdotes about Chicago's past.
- Terrific.

Now I wish you two would
get your heads together...

and try to cooperate
for a change.

- I have an item.
- Good. What is it?

- "In 1804, before"... - Ron? Will
you get your book off my desk, please?

Thank you very much.

"In 1804, before Illinois
gained statehood,

"Territorial Governor
Isaac Lipton...

- "declared on Christmas Eve...
- Yes?

"That all prisoners
in the territorial prison...

- "should receive a pardon.
- Yes?

"As soon as the pardon was
put into effect, one malefactor...

- "A Samuel Coggins...
- Mm-hmm.

"Went to the governor's home
to thank him.

"He was invited to dinner,
served some alcohol,

"and wound up robbing
the governor at gunpoint...

and burning the house to the ground."

No sign of deceased. Please
contact Homicide Unit Baker 80.

Repeat: Unit Charlie Delta 4,

we've got an accidental death
at 404 North Von Steuben.

No sign of deceased. Please
contact Homicide Unit Baker 80.

Did you hear that? Huh, Tony?
Did you hear that?

Another vanishing corpse.
I tell you. We're in luck.

It's terrific!
Another vanishing corpse.

Another vanishing corpse
and he gets excited.

Another vanishing corpse. That's
all New York has to hear about.

Another vanishing corpse!
That'll do it!

All right, the girl was
probably still alive,

and you came in,
you opened the window.

The air revived her and she
got up and she walked away.

No, senor. I have worked in
a hospital for ten years now.

I know the dead when I see them.

- Is this the lady, ma'am?
- Yes, that is Maria.

There ought to be a law that
only police can have police radios.

Write your congressman. Did you
smell something rotten when you came in?

- Well, of course she did. She smelled gas.
- No, senor.

- Not gas. It was... horrible.
- Aha!

- What does the stink have to do with it?
- I don't know yet. I'm not sure.

But do you have an answer as to why three
young males should drop dead from coronaries?

Yeah. You remember
the Tomosito-Bockner murders?

- Yeah.
- Remember how we all thought they were heart attacks?

A couple of years later it was
proven it was a massive overdose...

of cyanide delivered
at close range.

Are you telling me that the mob killed these
kids? Murder, Incorporated goes to college?

-Come on. What about the girls?
-Obviously a psychotic involved.

Oh, so now it's no longer
Murder, Incorporated, it's a lunatic.

All right, let's just
follow this thing through.

This lunatic follows Murder,
Incorporated around the campus,

and then, whenever they give
a kid a snootful of cyanide,

this nut... this loony...

Puts a girl's corpse down next to
the body so it doesn't get lonesome.

Carstairs, will you get
this man out of here!

I'm going, I'm going.

If that's your story, I think that you're
gonna need a little more work on it.

Out!

It's open.

Ah, Michael.
Good of you to come.

It's my pleasure.

Well... Uh...

What do you think?
Tickle the old curiosity?

Yes. It sure does.

- How's your extracurricular schedule?
- It's not too heavy.

Too bad about Mark Hansen, but with
him gone, I'll need another assistant.

Life does go on, Michael.

Look, uh, I appreciate
the opportunity.

Good. Okay.

For a start, why not go over
to the anthropology lab...

and get a copy
of Whitehead's Persia...

Michael.

Where are your manners? Who
is this incredibly beautiful creature?

I just met her at the bookstore.
She's really something, isn't she?

- Uh, Maria?
- Well, please, come in.

Professor, this is, uh...

This is Maria Vanegas.

Well, my pleasure.

Now, why'd you have to go and do something
like that, like he's a freak or something?

- I'm sorry, Michael.
- You're sorry?

I'm sorry!

Michael!

You again.

- Get out!
- Did you see a girl out here?

- No, I did not.
- Well, I saw her.

Yeah, she was standing
right out there.

This is Evan Spate. Would you
please send a security car to my home?

I have a trespasser. Thank you.

Maybe a girl by the name
of Maria Vanegas.

- She was dead.
- A dead girl?

- Yeah.
- Dead girl.

How have you managed to survive in
the news business being such an imbecile?

Your yard smelled bad enough
to send rats back to Detroit.

My dog, King Tut, sometimes
brings home dead prey.

Yeah, well, does your dog
also bring home demons?

- "Succubus."
- Does your prattle never end?

It says "succubus."
That's new.

What is a succubus, huh? Is a succubus the
"she" that the Sumerians were writing about?

Is that what drove Professor
Whitehead crazy out in the Iraqi desert?

Did he see a succubus?

Whitehead was and is
a senile old fool.

He claims he saw all kinds
of things out in the desert.

He is now a ward of the state,
and he's still seeing them, no doubt.

I don't believe in any of it, not in
demons rising from the desert floor,

not in mysterious
heart attacks...

or stenches,
not in walking dead girls.

I believe in this tablet as an
anthropological find and nothing more,

- and I believe in my
talent as a translator, -

and that's all I believe in.

Terrific. That's terrific.

Now can you answer me one
question? What is a succubus?

Uh, have a nice evening.

The campus directory listed
a plethora of departments...

that might have
given me some answers,

but it was late
and it was a weekend,

and none of them were too
thrilled with my phone calls...

None, that is,
except Dr. Salem Mozart...

and the Department of Classical
Ethnology... no longer accredited.

What am I gonna do
with six magazine subscriptions?

Read them, of course.
Share them with loved ones.

I have no loved ones.
I have no money.

Oh, the company will bill
you by mail, by computer.

You'll also receive
a lovely set of steak knives.

I never eat at home.
Now, what about this, sir?

Oh. Oh, this-this
is of interest, yes.

Yeah, well, can you tell me why,
sir? I mean, what is a succubus, sir?

A succubus is a female demon.

She animates the bodies
of ripe young women,

who then lure only handsome
young men into amorous situations.

And then, while embracing,

she changes into a ghoul
so fiendish...

that the horror of it
bursts the heart.

That's what's been happening... That's
what's been happening on the campus!

- Oh, is it? I hadn't heard.
- Yeah.

I don't see how it could be
happening, as it's only a superstition.

Oh, oh, Mr. Kolchak,

you've marked only one...
Four... four subscriptions.

- Are you trying to gull me?
- Dr. Mozart, would I try to gull you?

Now, what can be done
about the succubus?

- Are you interested in firearms?
- No.

How about a subscription
to the Handgun Review?

No, thank you. Fine, fine. I'll send it to
Miss Emily. Now what about the succubus, sir?

Oh, exorcism can
drive a demon away.

However, the churches are
reluctant to perform the act these days.

- It's bad for the image, you know.
- Yes, of course.

However, you're missing the
whole focal point of the tablet.

It's interesting only from an
anthropological point of view.

Kids are dropping dead
on the campus, sir.

I was aware the Whitehead
tablet was on campus,

but I didn't know it was the
same as the Pigafetta tablet.

- Pig... - This would
seem to confirm it.

Piga-Piga-Pigafetta tablet?

Pigafetta... an Italian
traveler of the 1500s.

He mentions a fabled tablet
of the Mesopotamian Empire,

presided over, so they said,
by a succubus.

- Of course, that tablet was lost a long time ago.
- Uh-huh.

However, it would appear
that Whitehead found the tablet.

Oh, it's all here
in these books.

Uh, the long dark legend
of death...

surrounding...
Surrounding the tablet.

- Thank you. Thank you, sir.
- Thank you.

- Excuse me.
- Oh. Oh.

Oh, we haven't made your
final selection, have we?

May I suggest
Contemporary Inventions?

You learn how to build your
own solar-operated pottery wheel,

how to make shark repellents
with ingredients found in the home...

But will it tell me
what to do about a succubus?

I believe Pigafetta reported
that some worthies of the time...

urged that the, uh,
tablets be destroyed.

Destroyed? Oh, no, no, no. It's
much too valuable. It's-It's priceless.

There must be some other way
to get rid of a succubus.

- I'm not sure.
- Well, are you sure, Doctor, this is the same tablet?

You would have to admit,
it's a nice theory, isn't it?

Oh, dear.
I can't find my references.

Now, let me think.

It's in Italian.
How do you spell...

I'll return them later.

No, Phyllis, Mike Sandler
dropped out last quarter. Yeah.

Big contacts... big, big. Know
the campus inside out. Oh, yeah.

Yeah, yeah. Hold on. She thinks we
should try Rose, the Humanities secretary.

- Well, don't talk, dial.
- Okay, thanks...

- Yeah, good-bye, Phyl. Dial!
- I'll call you.

Let's see.

Hey. Do you understand...

- Do you understand Latin?
- Yeah, some.

Yeah, well, see if you... See if
you can translate this here, will ya?

Uh, yeah, that's, uh,
a whole sentence right there.

Yeah, I know. It's got
a period at the end of it.

Well, I just know a few terms... ex post facto,
habeas corpus, corpus delicti, stuff like that.

Terrific. Perry Mason Latin.

Hello, Rose? Hi.
This is Rosalind Winters.

- Hey, I'm sorry it's so late, and this is gonna be hard.
- Dead languages.

- I'm looking for a guy named Michael.
- Maybe it's fitting.

Well, that's just it.

I don't know, except he's good looking and
he might have something to do with Dr. Spate.

Yeah, go find your book.

Half this stuff's
in dead languages.

Maybe that's very fitting
after all. Aha. Aha.

Here's something. Here
it is. Here it is, right here.

"Pigafetta. A Babylonian tablet, an ancient
piece"... Yeah, that's right. Uh-huh.

"Several scholars in ancient Jerusalem
attempted to destroy the hated object,

"but it was buried for later...

retrieval by one
Yusef Al-Mamoudi."

You hear about that kind
of thing all the time.

There's probably 100
of those tablets around.

- Terrific.
- Yeah, Rose. Yeah.

- What's this Michael Hannrahan look like?
- "See tablets, A to Z."

No, no, no. Forget it. He's gotta be
exceptionally built, at least an eight.

Contacts? Sounds more like
a hen party to me.

Well, say on a scale
of one to ten,

Mick Jagger is the only nine
and Quasimodo's a two.

Aha! Here it is, right here.

"Jerome of Hapsburg,
during the Crusades"...

- What? The Crusades?
- No.

"A tablet,
given by Ahra Manyu to man,

"much desired, but also feared.

The deaths of several young knights
and Saracen maidens were reported."

It's gotta be the same one
as Spate's. It's gotta be.

What do you got?
What's happening?

- Will you hold on? She's got an eight.
- An eight?

Yeah, go ahead, Rose.
Oh, yeah?

There's a Michael Thompson.

They ran a financial check on him because
Spate was gonna offer him an assistantship.

- That's the one! Where is he?
- Right this minute? I don't know. This is a big campus.

He lives in Branner Hall, but you can
never get through on the phones there.

- Big, big contacts.
- Where are you going?

- Big mouth. Big deal.
- Kolchak, wait a minute.

- Thank you, Rose, I'll see you later.
- Get back! Don't follow me.

- Wait a minute!
- Get back!

Mike?

Will you forgive me?

I do crazy things sometimes.

Yeah, we all do crazy things.

I shouldn't have got so frosted,
I guess.

Put that down.

- You're not mad?
- Anger is counterproductive.

Get out of my way.

You put a scratch on this,
and I'll see that you go to prison.

- You and your news service will be ruined.
- Your new assistant, Michael,

has a succubus on his back
because of this thing.

- He may be dead already.
- Will you hold me?

You'd destroy this piece of antiquity
for some stupid, idiotic fairy tale.

It's not a fairy tale. You know that as
well as I do. You've known it all along.

Now get out of my way!

- Beat it!

Oh!

The campus security force insisted
on calling the Chicago Police...

to press charges against me,

but they found a sudden surprising
resistance from Dr. C. Evan Spate,

who claimed the tablet
had been broken accidentally.

And despite verification by a confused
and frightened Michael Thompson,

neither reporter Ms. Rosalind Winters
nor I had enough hard evidence...

to file a story.

It had all turned to dust.

However, published story or not,
I can only say to you...

that should you ever meet a young
woman who seems just too lovely...

to be really of this world,

well, just remember, there's a
very good chance that she isn't.