Mod Squad (1968–1973): Season 1, Episode 8 - The Price of Terror - full transcript

Somebody is out to kill Capt. Greer.

Strike! Strike!

Beautiful.

Is it still my turn?
All night, Julie.

Just keep doing it.
Double or nothing?

Only this time put
your finger in the hole.

And don't go out
beyond the foul line.

Oh, a sore loser.
Just whip it on him.

Come on.

First of all, put your
thumb in the hole.

That's right. Now your fingers.

No, no, no.



These two. No.

What's the matter, Captain?

Oh, it's just a little headache.

I think I'll call it a night.

See you in the morning?

I've been thinking it over.

I've been meaning to tell you.

You kids have all been
working pretty hard.

Why don't you
take a few days off?

Have a little fun.

You've earned it.

Captain, if it's all
the same to you...

Do as I say!

I'm sorry, Linc, I...



Sure.

Take a few days off anyway.

I'll call you if I need you.

Wait a minute.

The man leaving?

Yeah.

He asked me to
make his good-byes.

He also gave us a few days off.

So he's getting
groovy in his old age.

I'd say worried.

He didn't say three
sentences all evening long.

I think something's bugging him.

Yeah, girl bowlers.

(theme music plays)

♪ ♪

Where'd you get
your license, by mail?

You got a touch
like a stevedore.

You're lucky you've
still got an arm.

Listen, let me give
you a little advice.

Never touch a garage door
till you're sure it's not loaded.

Good night, Chief.

Good night.

How long ago did
these start coming in?

'Bout a couple of weeks ago.

Did you give the
lab a shot at them?

Sure.

The usual paste job.

Newspaper lettering
on cheap paper.

Nothing. Dead end.

How about a motive?

Needle in a haystack.

First thought I had was
somebody I nailed and put away.

That narrowed it down
to about a hundred.

Then I figured
whoever's doing it

could be doing
it from a jail cell.

So I checked through all the
men released in the last month.

Still nothing.

I figure it's got
to be a crank job.

Adam, it's a lovely time
of year for a vacation.

Take one.

I mean it.

Take off, go fishing,

while we do a little hunting.

Thanks.

But no thanks.

Adam...

I know we go back a long way,

but I'm still Chief.

A short vacation or a transfer.

Take your pick.

Barney, the day I
run away from a crank

you can pick up my badge.

Absolutely not.

No chance.

METCALF: "Absolutely
not. No chance."

That's what he said.

But is he all right?

Yes, for now.

Still he might be
right about a crank.

I mean why blow
up the garage door?

If he wanted the captain
dead, he'd wire his car.

It's a good point.

Adam trained you well.

Then let's get at it.

That's what I suggested.

He almost bit my head off.

He doesn't want
you anywhere near it.

He doesn't have to know.

It won't be easy...

Getting it done,

staying out of Adam's way.

We'll handle that.

Where do we start?

I've got a full lab detail

going over every
inch of that garage.

Maybe we'll have a
starting place by morning.

Yeah, but how do
we sleep tonight?

A man like the captain. Why?

We'll find out why.

He just drove away.

How did he look?

Like he always does.

Look, wait here,
will you, Julie.

We're going over to the
lab. If he comes back, call us.

Well, Eddie?

Hard to tell from this
small a fragment, Chief.

All right, all right.
How do you read it?

A small bomb set on a hinge.

Set off when Adam
opened the garage.

Delicate work. Take
a pretty good pro.

You know, I think
Adam was right.

This kook may have killing
in mind, but not with this.

Not enough juice.

Well, is that it?

What about the print?

It's gonna take
time. What print?

We picked up a single
fingerprint in the garage.

A partial. Now
don't count on it.

We narrowed it down to these.

Yes, based on this
partial fingerprint,

bomb detail went through
all known soup men.

Came up with half a dozen
good enough for this work.

You can forget those
two; they're still doing time.

Linc?

Trying too hard.

I want it too bad.

Hey, do you mind if
I hang on to these?

No. Take them with you.

Where do we go from here?

Now we wait.

It all depends on Eddie.

All depends on luck.

How you doing, Lynch?

The point is, how
did you do, boy?

Just like you wanted.

Well, that's mighty fine news.

You want to talk money?

You do believe in getting
to the point, don't you?

I wasn't pushing, no offense.

No offense taken.

I'm going to take
very good care of you.

You're going to get every cent.

You did your part real good.

You mean you've got
others working on this?

That man's going
to find out right quick.

And then when
they turn me loose,

I'm going to take over personal.

You must really hate that cop.

Yeah, that's purely the truth.

Boy, next time I offer
to cook for you guys...

Want some chili on
your hamburger, Pete?

No.

How about some
ketchup and mustard?

No, thank you.

How about some mayonnaise?

Julie, knock it off.

Hey, man, we're all uptight.

It's this waiting.

What happens if they can't
even make the fingerprint?

I'm sorry.

I know.

How about some
peanut butter on it?

It's good.

No.

Look, sometimes I,
uh, I do funny things.

But sometimes they work.

Like, who got the
highest bowling score?

What?

Who got the highest
bowling score?

Bowling.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

What have you got?

Bingo.

Now wait, not for me.

Last night at the bowling alley.

He bowled in the
lane right next to us.

Coombs.

Samuel J.

The Department should
have a last known address.

And...?

And we pay Mr. Coombs
a little visit, babe.

(drawer squeaks)

(soft thud)

All right, now
take it easy, man.

Let's talk about it.

The police.

That's a good idea.

We want to learn the
fine art of making a bomb.

We figured maybe
you could teach us.

That garage door you rigged.

It was a work of art.

(clanging)

(engine starts)

How's Coombs?

Skull fracture. Bad one.

He's still unconscious.

Is he going to make it?

The doctors are
betting against it.

He's under guard.

If he comes to, we'll
get what we can.

Sorry.

Oh, it's not your fault.

We were so close,
man, and we blew it.

Oh, forget it.

It wouldn't have helped anyway.

Went through Adam's files.

Coombs isn't even in there.

Adam never laid a glove on him.

What?

So he had no reason to hate him.

He did do the bombing.

Someone paid him to do it.

Well, then, we got nothing.

They say that life is
some bad and some good.

Man, when does the good start?

(phone ringing)

Yeah.

Pick me up?

Why not I pick you up?

Yeah. Okay.

Hey, take it easy, man.

We're on the same side.

(coughing)

I'm sorry, man. Solid.

How long you been
playing watchdog?

This is my second night.

But I never was much
of a sleeper anyway.

What's your excuse?

He's stupid. He's stupid!

All he has to do is get
out of town for a while,

and maybe this
thing will cool down.

It's not his bag.

The captain walks like a bull.

As soon as he gets
through that door,

into his own house, right?

He sags.

He's just a man dodging
someone that wants to kill him.

He doesn't know
who it is, or where

he's coming from.

Pete, it'll be all right.

Will it?

(door opens)

What's so hard?

A blue '65 coupe,
Abel-Charlie-Victor-0-4-8.

We can't both bandage it.

I'm sorry.

Sure, I'm sure. I
was almost under it.

Thank you.

Look. Tell Connors to
get off his fat pension

and trace it, right?
He owes me a favor.

And get right back.

My best customer.

A few more like you,
I could make a living.

Just got it.

Maybe they can reweave it.

That's beautiful. A beautiful...

You know what a
Beverly Hills man

would charge you for
a dressing like that?

Good night, Doc.

Let alone a house call.

And at night yet?

And, uh... good night to you.

Well, what have you guys
got to say for yourselves?

What do you want? An apology?

I told you to stay
out of it, didn't I?

And that was an order.

Does that mean we're fired?

No. That means, uh... thanks.

Thanks.

(phone rings)

Greer.

Yeah.

Well, we're beginning to
see a little daylight, huh?

Yeah. Say it again.

Uh-huh. Got it.

Thanks, Barney.

Yeah. They're
right here with me.

Yeah, and you can stop the act.

Well, finally got
something to run with.

Like what?

That hit-and-run tonight?

Got a phone
call a little earlier

from a man who says he'll
give me a name on the bomber.

Said he'd pick me
up in a car outside.

A setup.

I was so anxious
for the information,

I ran right into it.

Could have finished
it off right there, too.

But at the last second,
the car swerved.

Now I got to run
with a scare job.

You said something
about daylight.

Yeah. Thank DMV.

They traced the car. Daylight.

A glimmer.

Yeah, they said
the car's a lease job.

Leased to a big
construction company.

Aldrich Industrial.

(heavy machinery running)

How come your
clothes aren't dirty?

I'm neat, so sue me.

You know something,
man? This is no good.

The job? No. This car.

So far, in two days, I've
seen eight people drive it.

That's cool, but I
bet my money on him.

Who?

His name is Frank
Fuller. Swing man.

So?

Utility man, laborer, driver.

He's in charge of the car.

Don't they make him
turn the keys in at night?

You don't got to be
Einstein to jump-wire a car.

All right. I'll ask
around about him.

I wouldn't.

It's too risky.

Besides, I got a better idea.

That scar tissue
around his eyes?

That tells me something.

I'm going to see if I
can put it together.

Oh, man, they don't care

who they let in the
dressing room these days.

Move, Killer! Move!

How's it going, Boots?

Still looking for a champ?

That's the name of it.

How are things in
the Big Jungle, baby?

You win some, you lose some.

Well, as long as you get
up before the man says ten.

I'll remember.

Move out! Move out!

Phew!

Man, if you did what I
told you a long time ago,

you wouldn't be
seat-of-the-pants now.

If you need some bread,
look, I can spare a few.

No, no. Nothing like that.

Look, Boots, I'm
off the streets now.

I'm doing okay.

I even saved a few bucks.

I was thinking about
buying a piece of a fighter.

I just want your opinion.

You jivin' me?

No, no. I hear he's
something else.

Who? Frank Fuller.

You mean that middleweight,

flat-nosed, dark-haired,
tin-eared guy?

They say he's a
belter with both hands.

Sure. If he's got
a bottle in each.

He's a street fighter.

Oh, he had a few prelims, sure,

but he's got a glass chin,

he cuts easy, and
he runs out of gas.

Now, aside from
that, he can't miss.

You know him personally, Boots?

Sure. I worked his corner once.

He's nothing.

The last I heard, he quit.

He should have done
that a long time ago.

Now, who's trying to
palm him off on you?

Oh, just... just a guy.
Hey, thanks a lot, Boots.

You probably saved me some loot.

(chuckles)

Hey, baby, tell me something.

How come, no matter
what you're talking about,

I could swear you're
thinking something else?

Of course I am,
Boots. Of course I am.

(laughs)

(pats his back)

Good luck tonight, huh?

Thank you.

Bye-bye.

(laughs)

Well, Captain, sir,

it has been a long
time, hasn't it? Yes, sir.

Now, don't tell me you
don't remember me.

Clay Lynch? Sure, you do.

I remember.

Well, you'll have to excuse
me, Captain, for barging in

and making myself to home.

Through a locked door?

Well, that's bad manners,

but I'm going to try
to improve them some.

See, I've been out of
touch for a long time.

Yeah. Five years.

And two months.

All right, what do you want?

Well, now, that's not
a very friendly attitude

for a man who just
came over to find out

if you were getting
his messages.

Well, you know.

Loud noises.

(makes loud noise, laughs)

Fast cars. Huh?

You?

Me.

It's going to keep on
happening, Captain...

Every which way...

Till you are a fine bundle
of nerves, and then one day,

when I finally
make up my mind...

and all you can do is just

wait and find out.

Now, wait, wait,
wait, wait, now.

Now you got no witnesses here

to prove what I said.

How would it look?

A man comes here
friendly-like and...

say, no hard feelings,

and you get on him
and whip him like a dog.

I'm sure you wouldn't want that,

Captain, sir.

You really ought to take
care of yourself, Captain.

You're looking a might peaked.

You ever watch the TV?

The news?

You should; it's been
very interesting lately.

You remember the man Sam Coombs?

The fella in the hospital?

That did the bombing?

He died.

That kind of puts you in
a box, don't it, Captain?

You got nowhere to go.

(laughing giddily)

(door opens, then shuts)

You mean he just stood
there and admitted it?

Had a ball.

Like a man eating a $12 steak.

Who is he, Captain?

Clay Lynch, 36. Divorced.

No police record.

Not even a parking ticket.

No visible means.

Until about six years ago.

Then he really did it.

Hit-and-run drunken driving.

He killed a kid.

A little boy, seven years old.

Hit him and didn't even stop.

I couldn't get it
out of my mind.

So I stayed on it.

Finally nailed him.

Pressed it, and
he got five years.

Not nearly enough.

It should be interesting.

You just let him walk
out of your house?

What would you suggest?

Well, he threatened
to kill you didn't he?

No witnesses.

I couldn't even give
him a parking ticket.

But, Captain,

is there any doubt
that Lynch is guilty?

No, not with six eyewitnesses.

Now wait a minute.

You mean he knows he's guilty.

Well, why, why the
big hate for you?

How come he wants to kill you?

I don't know.
Someday we'll ask him.

We can do better than that.

You said that
Lynch was divorced?

Isn't everybody?

The best way to
find out about a man

is to talk to his ex.

Hey, you must be
older than you look.

DONNA LYNCH: You're
putting me on, right?

Mrs. Lynch, I love
Clay very much.

I want to marry him.

Don't tell me; let me guess.

He wants to marry you, too.

But I'm the heavy

because I'm being so slow
about giving him the divorce.

Right?

Look, I thought we could talk
about this woman-to-woman.

How long have you known Clay?

Well, not very long, really.

Just a few days.

Since he, uh, since he came out.

But he wants to marry me.

Isn't this wild?

It'll bring a price.

You can sell people anything.

Look, Mrs. Lynch, I...

And Clay is master of it.

I don't understand.

I'm about to drop a bomb.

Clay and I have been
divorced for years.

You want him? He's yours.

But you're making the
mistake of the world.

I don't believe it.

Would you like to
see the final papers?

Oh, come on.

You're lucky you know in time.

How could he do this to me?

Easy.

Clay is a very
special kind of man.

Most men have
goals in life... I mean,

they want to shoot
in the low seventies.

They want to own a boat.

But not Clay.

Clay's goal in life is women,

and he's made a
lifetime study of it.

Do you know, when
we got divorced,

Clay got me to loan him money.

Now, that's a very
special kind of man,

and that's the
kind of man Clay is.

I could change him.

(scoffs): No.

No.

Not unless you're loaded.

Because that's
all that Clay wants.

I think he was planning for
that when we were married.

I think he was born planning it.

And he almost made it once.

There was a young
girl... Some oil family,

I can't remember the name.

They were going to be married.

They had blood tests, all
the papers, the whole thing,

and all of a sudden...
(snaps fingers)

the hit-and-run accident,
and that just ended that.

By the way where is Clay?

I'd kind of like to see him.

Get back some of that
money he owes me.

Well, uh, he said he
was changing apartments.

Isn't that wonderful?

He's just so slippery.

I mean you never
can pin him down.

It's all right.

He'll get in touch with
me sooner or later.

(shop bell ringing)

Hi. I'll be right with you.

Oh, come on.

You leave your
address here with me.

And if I hear from him,
I'll get in touch with you.

Okay.

Okay, what can I do for you?

You sounded anxious.

You're quite a fisherman, Julie.

City records says the
ex-wife was telling the truth.

Two days before
that hit-and-run,

Clay Lynch filed to marry
one Elizabeth Wittaker.

That spelled oil.

Every time you
fill your gas tank,

she gets richer.

Man, no wonder he hates you.

You cost him the money
marriage of his life.

Linc still on that
construction job?

Yeah. Tell him to stay close.

Fuller ties in somewhere.

Look, Donna I'd
like to help you out,

but I don't know
where Clay is, all right?

That'll be the day.

Come on, Frankie.

I'm not trying to make trouble.

It's just that I could use
the money that he owes me.

Right? I have bills.

Money? Where could he get money?

He ain't even been out a week.

I had a little visitor.

The little visitor's
name was Julie Barnes.

Now you can tell him for me

that if he can afford
cute little things like that,

he can also afford
to pay back his debts.

Oh, very cute.

Very young.

When is he going to grow up?

Come on.

You can give me a lift back.

Clay, that ain't gonna help.

It's just going to get
us thrown out of here.

You know, you
haven't got the brains

you were born with, boy.

The whole world's caving in

and you're worried about
a lousy furnished room.

Hey, there's plenty
of gals around.

You'll find one.

It's that cop's fault.

That stinking cop.

He's got everything
going downhill.

You know something?

I may just kill him a lot
sooner than I figured on.

Sooner he's dead,
sooner my luck will change.

Yeah, kill him.

Clay... don't talk
like that huh?

Hey, what about that new gal?

She got money?

What?

The gal Donna was talking about.

There ain't no gal.

No?

No.

Donna seemed real sure.

She said she was
young and pretty...

Hey, hey. Wait a minute.

She gave me this.

It's her address.

Did you hear anything
that woman said to Fuller?

No. The foreman was
making a speech about me

using the wrong size sledge.

I didn't want to take a
chance and blow cover.

From Linc's description, it
could be Lynch's ex-wife.

Yeah, well,

at least the pieces
are moving together.

Well... look, get some rest.

I'll see you in the morning.

Okay, but we're going
to give you a ride home.

Yeah, but that's all.

No more watchdogging my place.

Aw, just when we were
beginning to like the neighborhood.

Good night. Julie.

Good night, Captain.

Good night, fellas.

Good night.

(busy signal)

Did you reach Peter Cochran yet?

Not at home, Captain.

How about Lincoln Hayes?

No answer at his
apartment either.

Do you want me to
try Julie Barnes again?

No, Ann, I'll do it.

(phone dialing)

(busy signal)

(dials phone)

OPERATOR: May I help you?

Special operator 212, please.

This is operator 212.

Captain Adam Greer. Shield 416.

Yes, sir?

I keep getting a
busy on 366-0121.

Can you give me
a confirm, please?

Someone on the line?

Surely. Hold on a moment, sir.

I'm sorry, sir, the
line is out of order.

The receiver is
probably off the hook.

The receiver is off the hook?

You sure?

I'm quite sure, sir.

Thanks.

Would you like me to report it?

No.

Cheap date.

Just pop. That all you want?

Unless he has any
sore muscle ointment.

A little sore, huh?

Do you have any idea
what a 12-pound sledge

weighs after eight hours?

My calluses have calluses.

It's good for your character.

And not much else.

Look man, I know
it's going slow.

Slow?

Oh, baby, you have a
flair for the understatement.

Step right up and
look it in the eye.

We have ground to a flat halt.

Well, there's got to
be someplace to go.

We've got a few pieces.

Sure, we've got Lynch.

A man with a big hate.

And his ex-wife Donna who
is somehow tied to Fuller,

a broken-down prelim fighter.

But you put it all together,
stir well and nothing happens.

Absolutely nothing.

Or does it?

Still your serve.

I'm not sure.

Maybe.

Now, look, we know about
Lynch wanting to marry money

and about his wife not
being able to hang on to him,

but what do we really
know about Fuller?

Just that the wife went to
see him at the construction site.

So he ties in and we
walked right by him,

and we'd better find
out a lot more about him.

It reads okay.

It shouldn't be too hard.

He's a pro and that means
the State Athletic Commission.

Forget it.

It's Saturday; they're closed.

No door is closed when a
man has the right friends.

(sighs)

Man, I don't know about this.

They don't make waves.

I've got an idea.

I just want to
see where it goes.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Hey, Lonnie.

Pete Cochran, Lonnie Hall.

Hey, listen, man, I'm sorry
to hang up your Saturday.

No sweat.

Here it is.

He lives at 1224 West
Front Street, Apartment 12.

But his ring name is Fuller.

His real name is
Lynch, Frank Lynch.

Thanks, man.

I ought to charge you guys rent.

Maybe we can pay it.

What is it?

The tie between Fuller
and Lynch... we found it.

Fuller's real name is Lynch.

And guess who's his
closest living relative?

Brothers?

Wherever they are.

Whatever that means.

That means that he
moved out of his place,

left no forwarding address.

(pouring liquid)

What's the matter?

Never seen a man
with a headache before?

Like the night in
the bowling alley?

Back off.

Oh, uh, by the way, either
of you talk to Julie today?

What is it?

(phone rings)

Greer.

Captain, are you alone?

Uh... no.

Well, then, how
are we going to talk

about that cute
little lady policeman?

Unless you don't care
what happens to her.

Uh, hold on a minute.

Don't try a trace, Captain.

This is a phone booth.

I'll be long gone and
she'll be long dead.

It's a private matter.

You two mind waiting
out in interrogation?

(door opens)

(door closes)

Hold on.

Lynch, is she all right?

So far.

If you touch her or if
you hurt her in any way,

I'll... I'll kill you, you hear?

Do you hear?!

You use that tone with
me again, I'll hang up.

Don't, please.

Well, now, that's better.

That's much better.

(laughs)

What... what is it you want?

You... an even trade.

You come where I tell
you alone and I'll let her go,

but you bring anybody with
you and try anything fancy,

I'll send her home in pieces.

How do I know you have her?

Well, would you like for
me to describe her place?

Or maybe you'd like for me

to tell you what she
talked about last night.

And those two young
fellas... They're right smart.

Nobody'd figure them for cops.

Where... where do
you want me to come?

My, my.

Now you're being reasonable.

(laughing): Yeah,
you're being reasonable.

(tires screeching)

That would have been a long wait

in the interrogation room.

Yeah.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

You said come empty.

That's what I like... A
nice, obedient policeman.

All right, where is she?

Oh, I'll take you to her.

Now, you really
didn't think I was going

to bring a lady
here, did you, huh?

'Cause a man's from the
country don't make him stupid.

You are stupid, Lynch.

You're so crazy to see me dead,
you haven't thought it through.

Is that right?

You know those two
boys are cops, don't you?

You kill me, how will
you explain it to them?

But I don't have to.

You see, I heard that
if they don't find a body,

then there ain't a killing.

Well, come on, now.

You want to see that
pretty little lady cop or not?

Come on.

Come on.

Oh, your word ain't very
good, Mr. Policeman.

One of them kids
is out there. Lynch!

Let me tell you
what you've done.

If I don't make a
phone call real soon,

that little lady's going to
be dead before we get there.

You understand what
I'm telling you, mister?

A friend of mine... If
he don't hear from me,

you have killed her.

Now you tell him that.

You make him understand.

Come on.

Hold it!

He's got Julie.

(Linc grunts)

Linc!

(grunting)

(grunting and groaning)

(screams)

Help me, boy!

Help me, please!

Hurry up!

Please, please.

One time, Lynch.

Please! Where is she?

Please, help me.

Help me!

Lynch! Aah!

Where?

212 Franklin, Room C.

Hurry!

I swear!

212 Franklin!

Room C!

LYNCH: Help me!

Help me, boy!

(yelling)

Help me, help me, please.

Please... please.

Help me.

Help me!

(yelling)

Help me.

Help me.

(Linc yells)

It's all right, Julie.

Let it go, let it go.

Best thing in the world.

Even for a cop.

He's swinging again.

That's the captain.

Walking like a bull.

I'm sorry I'm late.

You kids getting hungry?

We still think we should
be taking you out for dinner.

Please, please.

Never insult the host.

How do you kids feel like
jumping into some Chinese food?

Ah, so...

There's a great little place

my wife and I used
to go to all the time.

You'll love it.

What was she like?

She was beautiful.

She would have
adopted all three of you.

You already have.

Never put a lump
in a captain's throat.

(laughing): Come on, let's go.

♪ ♪