Quincy M.E. (1976–1983): Season 3, Episode 1 - No Deadly Secret - full transcript

A friend of Quincy's escapes captivity and torture and runs to Quincy's boat, but keels over and dies before Quincy can reach him. Quincy loads the man into his official car and takes him ...

In my building,
there are no incompetents.

Quincy, we can't
find the body.

Tell you,
this is important.

What's the difference
whether they misplace
or they...

What do you mean,
you can't find
the body?

According
to the log book,
no body was taken in.

It's not there,
in black and white.

But I kissed him goodbye
at the door this morning.

But he died in
my arms last night.

The Carl Hopwood case,
if it ever existed,
is closed.

A good friend of
mine was murdered.
His body was stolen.



I would like that to
come out in the open.

Now who's
putting the pressure
on you, the government?

(QUINCY AND LOUISE LAUGHING)

LOUISE: Ah, no!
No more champagne.

When are we
going to eat?

Oh, you don't want
to rush dinner.

At 3:00 in the morning?

Hmm?

I've had
four glasses
of champagne.

I'm going to
fall asleep.

No, you're not going
to fall asleep.

Besides, the caterers said I
need another eight minutes
for the goulash.

Why didn't you have me cook?
You know what a great cook
I am.

Yeah,
but I wanted
to surprise you.



Surprise me faster, huh?

I've flown from Athens to LA.
I mean, I've lost a day
somewhere.

I'm so hungry.

Okay, I'll get
you the shrimp.

Al right.

(QUINCY HUMMING)

(SNORING)

1 go for Snow White,
I end up with Sleepy.

(SNORING)

Cheers.

(THUDDING)

Carl.

Oh, my.

I'm going to
get you some blood.

(DOOR SLAMMING)

Hey, Doc,
you're bringing in
your own material?

I want to post him
right away.

Log him in
and give me a hand
will you?

Yeah. John Doe?

No, his name is
Carl Philip Hopwood.

Carl with a C?

Carl with a C.

You clean, Tom Tom?

I ain't touched
the stuff in
six months, Doc.

You telling me
you kicked it?

Well, I ain't
exactly saying
I kicked it.

What they
pay me around here,
I can't hardly afford it.

Got no wallet, no ID.

I mean,
this guy ain't even got
no M&M'S in his pocket.

Careful how you handle
that stuff, will you,
Tom Tom?

The police will want
the physical evidence.

He got no shoes,
no socks, no underwear.

Homicide.

I know
they kill you
for a pair of shoes.

I didn't think
they'd do it for
a pair of undershorts.

How old is the guy?

Carl was 46... Yeah, 46.

Went to his 40th birthday.
I also went to his wedding.

This guy's a friend
of yours?

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

I've got to...
I've got to get
back to the desk.

Okay.

QUINCY:
Carl Philip Hopwood.
Age 46 years and 5 months.

White male. Well-developed,
well-nourished.

The body shows severe
bruises of the abdomen.

Examination of
the extremities

shows a superficial
laceration of the
right wrist

with a small avulsion
of skin and fat

measuring
approximately
0.5 centimeters.

Fresh laceration?

Must have got
that at the boat.

There are multiple
recent bruises...

...and opening
the rib cage...

...both arms with areas
of hemorrhage beneath
the pleura.

The abdominal cavity contains
approximately 1200 CCs of
liquid and clotted blood.

The organs occupy the
normal relationships
to one another.

The heart
is of normal weight,
size and configuration.

The valves and coronary
arteries are unremarkable.
There is no fibrosis noted.

There are a few
sub-epicardial
hemorrhages.

The kidneys, ureters,
bladder are unremarkable.

The small intestine show
numerous hemorrhages
within the wall

and the appearance
of contusions with
intramural hematomas.

You all done, Doc?

Yeah.

Tom Tom,
make sure these tissue
and blood and fluid samples

go down to the lab
before you knock off.

Al right.

What's the cause
of death, Doc?

The disease of the 20th
century, human cruelty.

Stomped?

Almost as bad.
The beating caused
internal hemorrhaging.

He drowned in
his own blood.

Lieutenant Monahan,
please.

Oh, well,
this is Dr. Quincy
from the Coroner's Office.

Would you leave word that
I have a possible
homicide here?

The victim's name
is Carl Philip Hopwood.

Have the Lieutenant
call me when he comes in.

The results of the test
should be in by then.
Thank you.

You going back to
the boat now, Doc?

No.

Carl was a musician,
you know.

No kidding.
Yeah.

Oh, he was an amateur.

He played viola
in a string quartet.

He was a scientist.
He was a fine scientist.

Hey, Doc,
you know something?

You're the only guy
who bothers to cover up the
bodies after you're through.

Well, you've
got to preserve
a little dignity.

Good morning.

What happened with that
gorgeous stewardess of
yours last night?

Oh, you're not going
to believe this, Sam.

Cost me $65 for
a catered dinner.

That's without the imported
champagne. I wanted to keep
her away from the food.

I mean,
she can make poison
out of fresh vegetables.

I was in charge of the food.

She fell
asleep before
the shrimp cocktail.

Did you sleep
here all night?

Holy mackerel.

Oh, I forgot.

What time is it?

Oh, it's 7:35.

Did the Hopwood results
come in from Toxicology?

Hopwood?
Yeah.

Carl Hopwood,
a friend of mine.

I think he was beaten up.
Brought his body in this
morning.

It's not here.

Are you sure you
sent them up to
Toxicology?

Of course I'm sure
I sent them up.

I'll double check
with them.

Well, they got to
be there.

Doctor, we don't have them.

What do you mean
you don't have them?

The blood samples?
No.

The tissue samples?
No.

The man's spleen?
No.

Not even one
lousy slide?
No.

Maybe
the results
were misfiled.

How did you spell
that name again?

Hopwood! How many ways
are there to spell it?
H-0-I-wood! Hopwood!

Hopwood.

Yeah.

They weren't
brought down.

What do you mean, "They
weren't brought down"?

Listen, isn't
it possible you
made a mistake?

Dr. Quincy,
I am a scientist.

I am a scientist, too.
I make a thousand
mistakes a day.

I can believe that.

Oh, why don't you
just admit it?
You plain lost it.

I resent that.
You resent?

You want to know
what I feel?
Excuse me.

Okay, Sam, we better
bring the body back up,
make up some more samples.

Right.

I'm being ridiculous?

I'm being ridiculous? Some
incompetent downstairs loses
tubes, slides, tissue samples.

Not to mention
a human spleen and
I'm being ridiculous!

Just watch
your language.

In my building, we
are all professionals.

Quincy...
Sam, will you
please cut it out?

Just
let's have a little
respect for the staff.

Sam, excuse us,
please.

Now, Dr. Quincy,
how dare you assume

that in this department
such materials could be
lost?

You know as well as
I do, they have been
misnumbered, misfiled.

In my building,
there are no incompetents.

Quincy, we can't
find the body.

Tell you,
this is important.

What's the difference
whether they misplace
or they...

What do you mean,
you can't find
the body?

We've looked all
through the building.
We can't find the body.

Now, wait...
Now wait a minute.

Now, Sam, where on
earth did we put it?

It has to be misnumbered
or misfiled.

I don't think so.

I've
had everyone
looking for it.

We've gone through
the whole inventory.

Sam,
you don't mean
you lost a body.

You mean, you can't
find it, right?

What's more, we can't find his
clothes or the property bag he
should have had.

Well, I don't believe this
morning. What time is it?

No, no,
this can't
be happening.

I'm going out of
my mind, that's all.
I'm just going crazy.

Brought a body in
here this morning.

I performed an
autopsy myself
and

suddenly
the organs were gone and
his blood samples were gone.

Now you tell me you've lost
his clothes, then you tell
me you've lost every...

Oh, Quincy.
Oh.

Another sharpshooter
I've got to listen to.

Listen, I got your
message about the
death

of Carl Philip Hopwood
or Hopewood?

Hopwood.
Do you have
the record?

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah. The dispatcher
took the message at
4:00 this morning.

Said you had a
felony murder victim.

Where is he?

What's going on here?

Carl Philip Hopwood.
That's his name,
isn't it?

Let me see that.

At least I'm not crazy.
It's misspelled, but there
it is, Carl Philip Hopwood.

What's going on here?

Well,
let me tell you...
(EXCLAIMS)

Now, let's keep
this in the family.

Well, make me
a Dutch uncle.

Okay, uncle.

It seems
we're short a body.

Oh, good grief.

Nothing, Lieutenant.
No signs of a struggle, no
signs of discarded clothing.

All the cars
in the parking lot
have been identified

and most of
the owners located.
No stray cars anywhere.

No witnesses who can recall
hearing anything that might
have been an altercation.

All right, Brill.
Look, send all the
uniformed men back.

And maybe
you better check
some of the neighbors

further on
down the line.

Yes, sir.

I don't care
what he says.

There was a car, the front
door was open and the
lights were on.

The car
the victim came in?

I guess so.
What do you mean,
you guess so?

Well, maybe he came with
them and then he busted
loose from them.

Yeah, but you said
you looked in the car
and nobody else was in there.

I took a quick look.
You took a quick look?

But if he was
beaten so bad up there,
how did he get down here?

I don't know.

You don't know.
You don't know how
the car got there,

you don't know this,
you don't know that.

We've combed the
entire area, nothing.

I'm telling you there was
a car, his car, their car.

Wait a minute. Who is they?

They're the guys
who beat him to death.

You mean he died here?

How many times do
I have to tell you?

I put him in the wagon and
I drove him to the Marina
Mercy Hospital.

Okay,
then someone must
have reported it there.

Maybe one of
the attendants.

There was no attendant?

He died in the car.
So I pulled out and
drove to the morgue.

Wait a minute.
You mean to tell
me nobody saw him?

Hey, wait a minute,
Lieutenant.

Somebody did see him.
Tom Tom.

Tom Tom logged him in.

Tom Tom?
Thomas Thomason.

He's the night man
at the morgue.

He's a little flakey kid,
but he's reliable.

Tom Tom logged him in!

Good morning, everyone!

Wasn't it
a lousy night?
I had such dreams.

So did he. Nightmares.

I'll meet you down
at the morgue, okay?

Hi, honey. Listen, I got
to meet the Lieutenant
down at the morgue.

Could you have
breakfast alone, then
I'll come back for lunch?

Darling, I'm going to be
having lunch at 38,000 feet
somewhere over the Pacific.

That's right,
I forgot all about...

Then why did you put
on your bathing suit?

To get a little sun.

Oh, I can't.
Listen.

It was a nice night,
last night, wasn't it?

Oh, it was terrific.

Did I have
a good time?

Are you kidding?
All that laughing and...

Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Then we got to
do it again, right?

Okay.
Have a nice trip, okay?

Okay.

Quince.

I'm going to bring you back
a recipe for a terrific
Japanese specialty.

In the same bikini.

Nothing.
I don't believe it!

You know,
that's all you do.
That's all you do,

you say
"I don't believe it.
I don't believe it!"

That's not
very helpful.

Frankly, I find it
difficult to believe it.

According
to the log book,
no body was taken in.

It's not there,
in black and white.

And we have no tape
regarding a post on
Carl Hopwood.

Maybe I was
talking into an
empty tape deck.

I checked.
There was a full,
fresh tape in the deck.

Oh,
there's a full
deck all right

and I know who's
not playing with it.

No, no, that's not
very helpful either.

(SIGHS)

Well, I guess the
next step is up to me.

The next logical thing
to do is to ask Tom Tom.

We've been
trying to reach him,
he's got two days off.

He doesn't have a phone.
I mean, not a phone
in his name.

It's one of those phones
where you call and leave
a message.

Answering service?

No, a friend
with a phone.

I don't think Thomason
has a phone or an address.
Does he have an apartment?

Well, he sort
of lives around.

Oh, one of those?

We'll ask him
when he comes
back.

No, we're going
to talk to him
now.

We have an address,
we're going to
check it out.

We haven't got time...

The man has been murdered.
Doesn't that pique your
curiosity?

Listen, there's lots of
murders that pique my
curiosity.

Like bodies, suspects
and all kinds of goodies
like that.

Monahan.
MONAHAN: What?

Sam.

I'm not going crazy.

Or am I?

I wonder who
their decorator is?

The same guy who
did your headquarters.

Excuse me,
would you know where
I could find Tom Tom?

Never tried that.

Communication problem.

Fuzz.

Your disguise doesn't
seem to be working.

Hi.

Well, we got to
start somewhere.

You kids
know a fellow
named Tom Tom?

I don't know anybody
by that name.

Used to know
a kid named Bongo.
That was at Berkeley.

Look,
I'm not a cop and
this is not a beef.

Yeah, well, I have to
level with you, he is a cop.
But honest, there is no beef.

I'm a doctor and
Tom Tom works
for me.

See,
I need to get
in touch with him.

Well, why don't
you write a note and
put it up on our wall?

Oh, boy.

He'll find it.

Do you have
any idea where
he might be?

I don't even know
who he might be.

Or what he might be.

Kids, this is
very important.

Look, if Tom Tom
shows up, tell him
I was here, will you?

I'll leave him my card right
here in the cereal box.
Okay?

Thank you, kids.

Hope they
don't eat it.

MONAHAN: What now?

QUINCY:
We're going to
visit Mrs. Hopwood.

So, I guess you saw
Carl and he told you?

Told me what?

You didn't know?

Carl and I
are separated.

No, I didn't know.
When did this happen?

18 months ago.

I know you
thought we were
the ideal couple.

I still do.

That's what
I once thought.

And believed.

What happened?

Oh, now, let's see.
Which answer do you want?

The one I gave the shrink,

the one I gave the
marriage counselor,

or the one
I gave all my friends?

Okay, the truth.

Truth is I don't know.

Something happened to Carl.

He left the
university to do
some research work,

work that he was very
excited about, at first.

And then as he got more
and more involved in it,
he...

He became morose, he started
to complain all the time.

About the amount or the kind?
The kind.

What was it?

He said
he couldn't
tell me about it.

Did it have anything
to do with the Army?

Oh, no.

No.
Carl wanted nothing
more to do with the military.

As a matter of fact,
he even resigned his
reserve commission.

You're kidding.

See, I don't
understand it myself.

And then he

started to
hate everything
my life stood for.

Well, you know,
I'm an Army brat.

And obviously
it led to fights.

Then what?

And then...

Then it finally got
so bad that he moved out.

I'm sorry.

Quince,
you can't imagine
the parade of ladies.

Oh,
I happened to
see one of them.

One of
those intellectual
liberal types, you know.

No bra and a lot
of unsupported
opinions to match.

Oh, poor Chris.

You've been
hit with everything
but the kitchen sink

since I last saw you.

I don't know,
sometimes...

Sometimes I think,
maybe it was my fault.

I do miss him.

Would you tell
him that for me
when you see him?

You will be
seeing him?

What?
Carl.

You will be seeing him.

Oh, sure, sure.
I'm going to see him and
I'm going to tell him, too.

I'm going
to see you a lot
more often, too, okay?

Sure.

See the tiny crystals?
Mmm-hmm.

Okay, now you see...

They're so specific,
you don't even have to
do a chemical analysis.

The body forms them around
every single particle of
asbestos.

Take another look.
Okay.

Like pearls in oysters?

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah, if you want to
get unscientific,
why not?

SAM: Quince.

Excuse me. Look at
the other slide.
Okay.

Yeah.

Oh, Quince. Monahan.

I'm over
at Tom Tom's.
He finally showed up.

He did!
That's terrific!

You won't think so.

Looks like he
OD'd on some drug.

He's dead.

He died of what appears
to be cardiac arrhythmia.

He was snorting coke.

Cocaine can cause
a heart attack.

He had no evidence
of a heart problem.

His
arteries were clear,
the valve was normal.

There was
no scar tissue.

A perfectly healthy, normal
heart for any 26-year-old
male.

You know cocaine can
cause a heart attack.

Yes, it can. Especially
if it's been salted with
a pinch of potassium cyanide.

Wait a minute, are you
saying the cocaine
was contaminated?

He was poisoned.
He was murdered,
Lieutenant.

All right,
so he was poisoned.

So someone gave
him a hot shot
of coke.

Now I got a body,
now I got a murder.
Now I can go to work.

What about Hopwood?

Quincy, he has a body.
Therefore he has a murder.

He can go to work.
With Carl Hopwood,
we have nothing.

So I don't ever want to
hear his name mentioned
around here again, right?

Right.

Well, I can't promise
you guys that.

Now, Quincy, listen...
I'm telling you that I can't.

Quincy.

You worry me.

You're becoming
a bit paranoid.
Now...

You're working hard.

You've had
a disappointment
with a stewardess.

Listen,
life can be fun.

But I suggest that you may
consider some therapy one
day, soon.

So...

Yes?

I'm Dr. Quincy.
A friend of Carl Hopwood.

Oh, well,
come in, come in.
I was just fixing a cake.

Come in, please. I have
to get this in the oven.

(MIXER WHIRRING)

Can I get you
a cup of coffee?
No, no, thank you.

Miss...

Ross. Stella.

Did Carl ever mention me?

No, I don't think so.
Quincy, right?

Yeah.

No, I'm sure he didn't.

Well,
it's been
quite a while.

What kind of
a doctor are you?

I'm with the
Coroner's Office.

(TURNS OFF MIXER)

This isn't a social
visit, is it?

I'm afraid not.

Is it Carl?
What's happened?

He's dead.

Carl. Oh, no.

I'm sorry.

It can't be.

I warned him.

You warned him?

This morning. Yes.

It was
in his horoscope.
He said I was silly.

This morning?

Yes,
I begged him.
It said danger.

I told him to
stay home today.

You're
talking about
yesterday morning?

I mean this morning.
Why would I mean yesterday?

Because he died
in my arms last
night.

But I kissed him goodbye
at the door this morning.

Then we can't be
talking about
the same person.

Carl, Carl Hopwood.

I gave him
breakfast this morning.
Right here at this table.

Bacon, coffee, eggs,
the same as always.

This Carl Hopwood?

My Carl.

What are you
trying to pull?

You're
part of this crazy
conspiracy, aren't you?

What am I trying to pull?

You come into my house
and tell me Carl is dead.

I'm going to find out
what's going on.

Get out.

Oh, you bet I'll go.

I'm going to
go where he works.
This Carl Hopwood.

STELLA: Get out!
Before I call
the police.

You have a Carl Hopwood
working here?

Yeah.

He didn't come to work
this morning, did he?

Oh, sure.

He did?

Yeah,
in fact he forgot
his keys this morning.

I had to open
his locker for him.

I'm Dr. Quincy.
I'm with the Coroner's Office.

Can I see him, please?

Hey, Mr. Hopwood.

There's
a Dr. Quincy
here to see you.

Right.

Coroner's Office?

It's like getting
a telegram. Bad news.

Yes, Fred.

There's
a Dr. Quincy
here to see you.

What can I do for you?

Do I know you?

No, and
I don't know you.
What's your name?

Carl Hopwood.

Well, I'd like it to be
Cary Grant, but it's not.
It's Carl Hopwood.

Come on, mister.

Look, here's my
driver's license.

This is my plant ID,
you see that?

Oh, you phony.
What are you
trying to pull here?

Get your
hands off me.

We don't want any
trouble around here.

You haven't heard the end
of this. I'll be back.

We'll be waiting for you.
With a net!

You keep harassing this woman.
I hope you're not taking me
on a wild goose chase.

You said you wanted poof
of a conspiracy,
didn't you?

That's what I'm going to
give you. Tangible proof.

Yes?

You said you
wanted the police.
Lieutenant Monahan.

You don't mind if we
come in for a moment?

Do I have a choice?

What made you think
you were going to
get away with it?

Get away
with what?

Passing off that phony as
the guy we were talking about.

How do you let this man walk
the streets without a keeper?

Oh, we throw him a piece
of raw meat every once in
a while to make him happy.

Well, it must be way
past his feeding time.

Oh, you're both very cute.

Evidently,
you don't realize
the trouble you're in.

You're an accomplice
to a cover-up of a murder.

Will you tell me
who's been murdered?

Stop being cute.

Gentlemen, meet your corpse.

You again.

Darling, this is
Lieutenant Monahan.

Lieutenant Monahan,
meet Carl Hopwood.

CARL: How do you do?

Lieutenant, there's
a picture on the shelf.

Will you show that fraud
the real Carl Hopwood?

Why do you need
this information?

I can't tell you
right now, but it could
be a terrific story for you.

I don't like to tap my
sources when I'm blind.

Trust me, will you, Max?
You're a newspaper man. You
can get into places I can't.

Hey, you owe me.

I owe you?

You don't?

All right,
give me the details.

He was
a friend of mine.
Carl Philip Hopwood.

How do you spell that?

I don't believe this.

How many
ways are there
to spell Hopwood?

H-0-I-wood, Hopwood.

Hopwood.

He's a chemist.
Lot of years in the Army.

He was doing some
secret research for
Forsythe Laboratories.

About what?

That's what I'd
like you to find out.

Suppose it's
classified information?

If it's classified
information, you'll tell me
it's classified information.

I'll call
the New York Times
and they'll tell me.

Very funny.
I'll call you if
I find anything.

Thank you, Max.

You really lose a body?

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

You wanted to see me, sir?

There have been complaints
that you're trying to get

classified information to
which you're not entitled.

Oh,
I asked a friend
for a small favor.

A small favor?
About Carl Hopwood?

Is that so terrible?

Well,
there are those
that think it is.

Who?

Doesn't matter who.

Well,
if it doesn't matter,
why don't you tell me?

To tell you the truth,
I'm tired of going around
in circles, fighting ghosts.

Well,
there are certain matters
that must not be divulged.

What are you
talking about?

A good friend of
mine was murdered.
His body was stolen.

I would like that to
come out in the open.

Now who's
putting the pressure
on you, the government?

No, it's not
the government.

Then who?

A lobbyist.

A lobbyist?

With important connections.

Why did he call you?

Somebody called him.

Who?

He didn't tell me.
Did you ask?

I don't stick my nose in
where it doesn't belong.

Oh, your nose is in a lot
deeper than you think it is.

They know about Carl Hopwood.
They're trying to keep some
secret from us.

There is no secret.

As far as I'm concerned,

Carl Hopwood
is a figment of
your imagination.

I'm sick and tired of
being treated like an idiot,
like I don't have any rights.

I'm sick and tired
of all this secrecy.

Now, the phone call
you received proves that
Carl Hopwood is not a product

of my imagination.

I'm causing some kind of
uproar here that means
something to somebody.

What matters here,
right here in my
small world,

is that not another penny of
this department's budget
will be spent.

Not on a phone call,
not on a paperclip,

not on
another ten minutes
of your valuable time.

The Carl Hopwood case,
if it ever existed,
is closed.

Now, if that doesn't
satisfy you, though you're
one of my top pathologists,

we can close
your file as well.

This is my world.
Don't touch it.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Thought you were going home.

Right now, that's
where I'm heading.

What are you
going to do?

I'm going to do an
autopsy on Hopwood.

But you don't have a body.

Anybody can do
it with a body.
Good night, Sam.

Hopwood.

Age 46,
severe bruises
on the abdomen.

Heart, normal weight,
no fibrosis.

Liver, spleen, kidney.

Examination
of the extremities

shows a superficial
laceration of the
right wrist

with a small avulsion
of skin and fat.

This is
a piece of the man
they said didn't exist.

Just a fragment of
skin, but if I'm
right...

If I find
what I think
I'm going to find.

What are you
looking for,
Quince?

You said he was
beaten to death.

I said
I made a thousand
mistakes a day, didn't I?

QUINCY:
Recognize the profile?

SAM: A compound of
the fossil fuel field.

A very heavy
concentration of it.

A hydrocarbon
cluster absorbed into
the molecules of his fat.

I mean, a lethal
concentration of it.

He wasn't beaten to death,
Sam.

He died of
a hydrocarbon poisoning

with bone marrow depression
and hemorrhages on his body,

which made it
look like a beating.

Why, Quince, and where?

That's the question,
Sam.

That's the question.
I want you to put this
in a very safe place.

This, too, okay?

Right, Quince.

Sam.

Yeah, Quince?

I think
I better take these.

Don't you trust me?

Of course I trust you.

Sam, it's just
I don't want to
involve you in this

any more than
I already have.

The best advice
I could give you is,

just forget you've
ever seen these.

Hello, Doctor.

Well, you guys are
here because I found
Carl Philip Hopwood.

Wait a minute.

Max, is this
off the record?

I hope it isn't.

You realize the
consequences after what
we discussed last night?

Yes, I do.

I always said it. You
would've made a great
investigative reporter.

I not only found him,
I found out what killed him.

What?

Hydrocarbon toxicity.

Great!
What is it?

It's a hydrocarbon
fuel, not the kind
you burn in a car,

and if ingested, which is
most unlikely, it is fatal.

Where's the body?

Again,
I don't have a body.
I have a skin and fat sample.

It's small,
but it's all I need.

It's small all right.

You have no body and you
got a piece of fat skin.

That's all I need.
It tells the whole story.

How do you know it
belongs to Hopwood?

Because I found it on
the deck of my boat where
he pounded with his hands

and he tore his wrist.

Well?

It's hydrocarbon toxicity.

Of course it is.

That's what
caused the death of
Carl Philip Hopwood.

Hydrocarbon toxicity.

You want to
know something?
I know who did it.

You do, Lieutenant?

I thought everybody knew.

There are Martians with
death ray guns who did it.

Yeah,
one of them surrendered
to the Hollenbeck Division.

They got him wrapped up
in aluminum foil down there
to keep him fresh. Oh, yeah.

The scientific whizkid.

Hydrocarbon toxicity!

Why don't you take
a look at the sample?

Look at what?

You could
have a piece of
pastrami in there,

I wouldn't know
the difference.

Where is the body?
The corpus delicti.

Max, you're going
to print this story?

What story do you
want me to print?

The Lieutenant's
story about Martians?

Dr. Astin's
story that you
should drop this matter?

Or your story
about a body that
nobody's ever seen?

Dr. Astin?

Well, as far as I'm concerned,
this very well could be
a Martian.

This chart does not prove the
existence of Carl Philip
Hopwood.

Okay.

You guys do
what you have to do,
I'll do what I have to do.

I'm going to
finish up my work here
for the rest of the day.

Then I'm going to go home.
I'm going to get a good
night's sleep

and tomorrow morning,
I'm going back on the
Carl Hopwood case.

Good evening,
Dr. Quincy.

Oh, you're here.

I had a feeling
somebody was following me.

Oh, really?

Doctor.

Somebody was
following me.

I'm glad you were.

I was beginning
to feel paranoid.

Who are you guys?
What do you want?

My name is Hughes.
I'm Head of Security
for Forsythe Laboratories.

And this is
Mr. Goodman.

Doctor, if you'd please go
below, we'd appreciate it.

Please come down, Dr. Quincy.

Take good
care of that, will you?
It's the rest of my dinner.

Please,
sit down.

Thank you.

I'm sorry we haven't
really met before.

I get
the feeling I'm going
to be sorry we ever met.

I'm Arthur Forsythe.

President and
Chairman of the board
of Forsythe Laboratories,

where Carl Hopwood worked.

Which Carl Hopwood are
we talking about, sir?

There was only one.
We both know that.

I want you to believe
that I knew nothing
about all this

until a few hours ago.

Whatever Hughes and his
team did to you, it was
without my knowledge.

How many times have
I heard that before.

You're absolutely right.
They were working for me.

Whatever they did
is my responsibility.

Whatever? What do
you mean "whatever!"

They didn't
do "whatever!"

They stole
Carl Hopwood's
body out of the morgue.

They set up some
phony mistress to
get me off the trail.

They killed
a nice boy,
Tom...

Maybe, Doctor...
Doctor, you're wrong.

We didn't murder anybody.
Thomason was paid to alter
that log.

That's all we did, sir.

He flashed his money around
so one of his friends gave
him a fix

of loaded cocaine
so he could steal
the boy's money.

That's how he OD'd.

What about
Carl Hopwood?
He was also killed.

A hydrocarbon poisoning.
Oh, yeah.

I know how,
what I don't
know is why.

Of course you don't
have to tell me

if I'm going
to be the next body
you're disposing of.

Take my word for it.
You'd be much better
off not knowing.

You take my word for it.
I've never found that
to be the case.

Sit down.

Forsythe Laboratories
is working on the
development

of a synthetic fuel

based on
a new hydrocarbon
molecular pattern.

It could go a long
way toward eliminating this
country's growing dependence

on the rest of the world
for our oil, for our
fossil fuels.

Will you take me back
to Carl Hopwood, please?

He was
part of the team,
a very important part.

Until he got it into his head
that this new fuel would
pollute the atmosphere.

He tried
to sabotage
the entire project,

something we'd
worked months,
years on.

He was poisoned in
the accident he caused.

Fortunately,
no one else was.

We were
making arrangements
to get him to a hospital

without
breaching security
when he panicked and ran.

Right to you, Doctor.

I would have done
anything to have
saved him.

But once he was dead,
it was my responsibility
to do everything I could

to keep our
research secret.

Now, what do you think would
happen if word got out that
Carl Hopwood was killed

by a very
sophisticated
hydrocarbon cluster?

A dozen
companies
and countries

would be alerted to
what we're working on

before we've had
a chance to
perfect it.

There's no
lack of research
facilities out there.

All we've got is lead time
and precious little of that.

Give it away and
who benefits?
They do!

Tell me,
Mr. Forsythe,
who are they?

I really want to know.

We're always told to watch
out for them. We're being
protected from them.

Maybe, if we were told
the facts, we could decide
what is safe and what isn't.

We, the people?

Yes! We, the people.

Protecting the secret
of Carl Hopwood's death
is protecting the future,

protecting our
chances for survival.

Now, you think
about that, Doctor.

You have all the
facts surrounding
your friend's death

and the
experiments he
was working on.

You may be right.
Maybe the people
should know.

But you tell them.

There are no clear
scientific truths
here.

I wish there were.

I make decisions
every day that keep
me awake every night.

Welcome to the club,
Doctor.

The ball's in
your court now.

Carl Hopwood's body
will be made available
to his widow immediately.

So you and his wife
buried Hopwood's body?

Chris took it very hard.

(EXCLAIMS)

This is
quite a story.
And you name names.

You going to print it,
Max?

Hold on, Tom Paine.

Give me a minute to
digest this.

I can't.

Hey, come on. Loosen up.

I have
to have your
answer right away,

before
your advertisers
threaten to pull out,

before
your legal department
talks to you about libel

and a few
offended readers.

Now,
could be you're
selling them short.

They may be as interested
in hearing the truth as
you are in telling it.

Oh, I certainly hope so.

Hey, this wasn't
an easy decision for me.
It's been a sleepless week.

You see,
I'm out of
my league.

I'm a scientist and as
Forsythe said, "There are
no scientific truths here."

All right.
I'll read it again and
get back to you later.

No, Max. Not later. Now.

There's only one answer.

There can
be no justification
for what Forsythe did,

or allowed to be done.

We have just gone through
a crisis in this country

and we've come out
stronger than ever,

because we have
proven that nobody,

I mean nobody,
is above the law.

All right. Go on back
to your boat and wait for
tomorrow morning's edition.

You won't be disappointed.

I don't know about
the Pulitzer Prize,

but I guarantee
the Quincy Prize.

What's the Quincy Prize?

Lunch.

On you?

No, on
Harry's Hotdogs,
down at the pier.

Very funny.