The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 2, Episode 11 - The Night of the Ready-Made Corpse - full transcript

Agents West and Gordon are assigned to guard foreign dictator Colonel Pellargo but are foiled by a clever assassin who himself shows up dead only a few days later. However, the disappearance of a local Irishman into Fabian Lavendor's funeral parlor piques the agents' curiosity -- and the cut-and-dried assassination becomes a far more complex intrigue.

Your Excellency.
Welcome to Wickenberg, sir.

Well, good morning, James.

Hi, Artie. Anything happening?

Oh, same old thing.

Just a different
town. Thank you.

As I was saying,
Colonel Pellargo,

welcome to Wickenberg.

You're very capable. Your name?

My name is James West,

and this is my partner
Artemus Gordon.

Assigned to me by
your government?



That's right, sir.

I approve.

I trust you will forgive my men.

They were only trying to
keep me from being murdered.

Well, if that's what
I had on my mind,

I could have
murdered you easily.

And if you had, Mr. West,

there'd be no harm
done, would there?

A double,

or should I say a lightning rod?

If you prefer.

But a lightning rod

who is handsomely
paid for the risks he takes.

Very ingenious.
You had me fooled.



Pellargo has many
people fooled, Mr. West,

which is why Pellargo

is still listed among
the living, eh?

Sir? Your Excellency?

Fifteen minutes is
all I can give you.

Work fast and efficiently.

Yes, sir, Your
Excellency. Yes, sir.

An old custom in my country:

A portrait of its ruler

to be distributed
amongst the people.

As a substitute for bread?

I like you, Mr. West.

You say what you think.

My country, alas, is poor.

We cannot afford both
portraits and bread.

So your people get portraits.

Why not?

My people are
completely dedicated

to two basic objectives.

The first is eking out

a wretched
hand-to-mouth existence,

and the second...

Trying to assassinate you.

From time to time, yes.

I'm a reasonable man.

I'm willing to
grant them the first,

but never the second.

Hold it, sir. Hold it.

Where'd he go?

He disappeared into thin air...

or thick walls.

He was kind enough to
leave a souvenir behind,

complete with bloodstains.

Ah.

Good evening, Mr. Antille.
You're a few moments late.

My arm is hurting.

Yes, well, I can see
you've got a wound there,

and I'll take
care of it for you.

Uh, the blood. Uh,
don't drop it on the carpet

because it gives the mourners
a very bad impression.

Um, will you follow me, please?

Oh, uh, you just,
uh, sit down here

on the table, will you, please?

It's not a very
comfortable table, but then,

very few of my clients
complain about it.

Now...

Oh, it hurts, does it?

Yes.

Well, let me see that.

Well, you're very
fortunate, you know.

That's just a flesh wound.

We'll have that taken
care of right away.

There.

I trust you accomplished
your mission tonight, hmm?

I always do.

Why should this
job be an exception?

Heh-heh-heh! Well,
very good, very good.

Very good. Congratulations.

Well, that being done,

I suppose it remains
now only for me

to fulfill the little service

that you and I
contracted for, eh?

The agent guarding
Pellargo came after me.

I suppose they'll soon be
searching the whole area.

Uh, yes. I anticipated that.

And so we have accommodations
provided for you right here.

I'll show you.

Here you have our slumber wall.

Ooh, sorry, old boy. Occupied.

Voilà, as they say
in Paris, France.

Must it be there?

Oh, well, really, this is
the safest place, you know,

in case of a search.

And our other guests
will never disturb your rest.

♪ She wheeled a wheelbarrow ♪

♪ Through the streets
Broad and narrow ♪

♪ Singing cockles and mussels ♪

♪ Alive, alive, oh ♪

♪ She was a fishmonger
And sure 'twas no wonder ♪

♪ For her father and mother
Were fishmongers too ♪

♪ Now, they wheeled
Their wheelbarrow ♪

♪ Through streets
Broad and narrow ♪

♪ Singing ♪

♪ Cockles and mussels ♪

♪ Alive, alive ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Alive ♪

♪ Alive ♪

♪ Oh ♪

There was no reason for you
to come to me, Señora Pellargo.

I would have gladly come to you.

I wanted to walk.

Walls in my room were
beginning to close in on me.

What did you wish
to see me about?

I've been entrusted to
deliver this telegram to you

from the president
of the United States.

An official
expression of sorrow?

Sympathy? Heartfelt
condolences? Am I correct?

Will that bring back my husband

or bring his
murderer to justice?

I'm sorry, señora,

but you might be
interested to know

we've identified your
husband's murderer.

Who is he?

Claudio Antille, assassin,

courtesy of Washington's file

of international
wanted criminals.

Portrait of a murderer.

The United States has been
made to look responsible

for your husband's death.

How is it possible that this man

has accomplished
what he set out to do?

Antille is, in his own
way, very capable.

Think of his preparation.

He arrived only two months ago,

set up his shop
as a photographer

under an assumed name.

And then he waited
patiently until...

Oh, excuse me, señora.

Can I see you for a minute, Jim?

What is it? Antille?

He's been found.

Oh, thank heaven.

What does a murderer
say when he is caught?

In this case, nothing.

He's dead.

Are you sure you
feel up to this?

I want to do it.

It'll be painful.

So was the loss of my husband.

I want to see his murderer.

Ah, good day.

Can I be of assistance to
you in your hour of sadness?

Are you in charge here?

Yes, I'm Fabian
Lavendor, the director.

You have a body here

presumed to be that
of Claudio Antille.

Oh, yes, that one.
Yes, we have him here.

How does he happen to be here?

Well, that was irregular,
but the men who found him

simply said this was the
nearest available place,

so I could hardly
turn them away.

I notified the police
very soon after.

Who brought him in?

They were two laborers.

They declined to
give their names.

And I have no authority to
force that kind of information.

They left rather quickly
before I had a chance

to discover the bullet
wound in the departed.

You made the identification?

Yes, from some papers
in the coat and a... A letter.

I'll get them for you.

Uh, are you and madam
related to the deceased?

The, uh, señora is the
widow of the man Antille killed.

Oh, I see. Well,
I'm... I'm very sorry.

My sympathies, and if I can be

of professional service
to the señora, why...

It's been taken
care of, thank you.

May we see the body, please?

Of course. He's reposing
right here in the chapel,

so if you'll step this way.

So that's the monster.

Could you please take care
of the señora for a moment?

Yes, of course.
Come this way, señora.

We've got some smelling salts.

Oh, no more, please.
I'm quite all right now.

I'm sorry to have
kept you waiting,

but I had to be positive. I'll
have to keep these papers.

Yes, of course.
About the financial...

I'll see that the
government reimburses you.

Fine. Mm-hmm.

Sorry, old boy.

I had hoped to send you off
with a little pomp and ceremony,

however...

Artemus...

Gordon.

There.

Case closed and
report completed.

Sign on the dotted line, Jim.

Something still
bothers me. Like what?

I don't know exactly.
I still keep wondering

how Antille got out
of that blind alley.

What difference does
it make? He's dead.

Wonder why.

Well, the coroner's report says

because of unseemly
familiarity with a bullet.

Our job's finished.

Is it?

Look, what's eating you, Jim?

Antille killed Pellargo. He
tried to kill you, then me,

finally wound up as your target.

What if it wasn't Antille's
body in that coffin?

How could it not be?

You recognized
his face, didn't you?

I did.

His wallet and
papers are authentic.

The scars on his body match
the description in the dossier,

ditto the cuff link I found.

Everything you say is correct.

Well, then what
more do you want?

I wanna check the
missing persons file.

All right, Jim, now
it's my turn to ask.

Why?

Because, Artie,

things aren't always
what they seem to be.

Look here, Lavendor,

I've been going out of my mind.

Oh, now, now, now, you
mustn't do that, Mr. Antille.

We must avoid that at all costs.

These mummy wrappings,

how much longer do
I have to wear them?

Well, not any
longer, Mr. Antille,

I'm happy to tell you.

You mean you're going
to take them off now?

Yes, that's exactly what I mean.

Now, if you'll seat
yourself in that chair.

Please, go ahead.

I'm going to remove
these wrappings,

and unveil the new you.

Now...

Here we are.

Wait.

What if I don't like the new me?

Ah, well, I'm afraid
you have no choice.

I mean to say, the old you

is wanted by the police
for murder. Mm-hm.

Yes, you're... You're
right, of course. I...

I just got panicked
there for a moment.

Well, it's perfectly
normal, I assure you.

I had a client once,
an Albanian knife artist

who was wanted
for multiple murders.

Why, he broke down
and wept uncontrollably

at the very moment
that you're facing now.

And? Oh, happy ending.

Fell in love with the new
face I provided for him.

He became a distinguished
importer in Cairo,

traveled widely
with the best circle.

He even sent me a few clients.

Now one moment.

I don't believe it.

I'm a different person.

Uh, you are Charles
Kobles Stevens,

to be precise,

a dealer in lithographs
and etchings.

Uh, now, I have
here your papers:

identification, passport,
steamship tickets.

You're to leave the
country within three days.

Well, it's fantastic.

Mr. Lavendor,
you're a real artist.

Why...

Oh, uh, Golo.

I don't believe
you've met, eh, Golo.

He's in charge
of field operations,

that is to say, the
acquisition of bodies.

It was he who
recognized the suitability

of the double that we,
uh, a-acquired for you.

You did a wonderful job.

Who was he?

Uh, who? The double.

Oh, his name was Toby Murphy,

a man who'll never be missed,

an obscure kind of a
carousing Irishman. Mmm.

That's telling 'em.

Whoa, happy chappers.

You think this is the place?

Could there be another like it?

Sure, now,

two fine gentlemen
like yourselves

will be wanting a
private booth, I'll bet?

Oh, pick up the jackpot,
Colleen. You win.

Take the one over there,

and I'll be along in two shakes.

Well...

how'd you ever find a
nice, quiet little pub like this?

Beginner's luck.

There now. That'll keep
you from dying of thirst

while you decide on
what you'd like to drink.

Thank you, Rose.

Oh, do I know you?

I could have sworn
I never forget a face,

especially such nice faces

as the both of your own.

No, we haven't met, Rose.

We're here about the
missing persons report

you filed on your father.

Do you know where
himself has gone?

No, but we'd like
to help you find him.

Federal... Federal
government, is it?

Oh, I had no idea me
father was that important.

Well, it could
turn out that he is.

How long has he been missing?

Four days now.

Dropped out of sight
like a stone in a bog.

Well, did he do that
often, just not show up?

Never for any
longer than it took him

to find his way home again.

A day or so at most.

Have you any recent
pictures of your father?

Ha, ha! No.

He always tells me,
"It's a waste of money

when you've got meself
to look at all the while."

We've got the description
you filed with the report.

Is there anything
you'd care to add,

anything that might help
us with the identification?

Scars, marks?

There was one little thing
I didn't put in the report,

for no one could ever notice.

But he's missing the little toe

on his right foot.

Is he, now?

How did that happen?

At the St. Patrick's
Day festival

two years ago.

A random beer keg
happened to fall on his foot.

At the time, he hardly noticed.

We want Rose.

Oh.

Going, are you? You should stay.

The place livens up a
little bit later in the evening.

It's a shame we have
to miss it, but, uh...

We have to visit an
old friend minus one toe.

Alas, poor Yorick!

I knew him Horatio:

a fellow of infinite jest.

Artie.

Over here.

All right, Jim.
Let's settle this

Murphy-Antille body-switch
theory of yours right now.

Artie.

Well, that was careless of 'em,

leaving the door open like that.

Wasn't it?

Well, four toes,

which proves beyond
a shadow of a doubt

that it's Toby Murphy.

Here. Forget the
lock pick, Artie.

It's jammed.

I don't suppose there's
any doubt about it.

No, Rose. I'm sorry. None.

Sure.

That's just like the old man.

He used to cage drinks

by pretending to be the
Lord Mayor of Dublin.

Now he's impersonated himself

into the wrong grave.

There's more to
it than that, Rose.

I don't know how it happened.
I promise I'm gonna find out.

I don't suppose
there was a wake.

No.

Oh!

Well, that's a
sad thought. He...

He always wanted
a grand wake, a...

A four-alarm riot of a wake.

Oh, he'll be sorry
to have missed that.

Rose, I may need your
help in this investigation,

and it may mean
some danger to you.

Oh, I don't mind that.

And what about a headstone?

Is the old man going
to go through eternity

with the wrong
name over his head?

We'll arrange for
the kind of headstone

that he would have approved
of after the case is cleared up.

In the meantime, it's
an absolute necessity

that you don't
mention this to a soul.

Fabian Lavendor,
proprietor, at your service.

Oh...

I would like to
arrange a funeral.

Oh, certainly. Certainly.

Is the, uh, need immediate?

Very pressing.

I see. I see. A member
of the family, hmm?

Someone, eh, very close to me.

Oh, too bad. Too bad.

Well, please accept
my sincere condolences.

If you'd care to be seated, why,

we could discuss the various
arrangements possible.

I would prefer to examine
your facilities as we talk,

if you don't mind.
Oh, fine. Fine.

Well, you're standing in our
chapel here at the moment.

You'll notice the decor is
nondenominational. It's...

Oh, incidentally, what, eh,
denomination is the deceased?

He's not dead... yet.

Oh, I-I thought you said...

Very soon.

Oh, very soon.

Yeah, well, in that case,

the, uh, prospective
client, uh...

Uh, is of the masculine gender?

Yes. Does it matter?

Oh, no. No, not at all.

It's just that, uh,
members of the gentler sex,

bless their dear memories,

they just require more
extensive preparation.

Even in final repose, you know,

appearance is a primary concern.

The rest of your
facilities, if you don't mind?

Yes, fine. Fine.

If you just step this way,

why, I'll show you
to our slumber room.

Thank you.

Eh. Mm-hm. Very
nice little workshop.

Well, my staff
hasn't arrived yet.

Otherwise, I could show you

some of the technical
functions that we perform,

or are you interested in
that sort of thing at all?

Oh, profoundly.

Oh. Well, I can assure you

that everything will be
done that can be done

to provide for a glorious
life in the hereafter.

I am far more concerned

with a glorious life
in the here and now.

Uh, perhaps we ought
to be just a little bit

more specific about the client.

I mean to say, who is he?

Oh, that's an interesting face.

Friend or relative or, uh...?

Take a close look at me.

Well, lookie here.

Very neat. Very effective.

Well, of course, Mr. Link,

I could simply
notify the police.

Well, you could, of course,
also lose a lovely, fat fee.

Who sent you?

Oh, no.

No, the contact who
recommended you

swore me to secrecy.

Eh, quite understandably,

he'd prefer that his present
identity remain unknown.

Yeah, well, I can't quite
swallow that, Mr. Link...

I'll tell you why.
- -because I keep rather...

Rather extensive files
on all my alterations,

so I'd have to know
who he was, wouldn't I?

Ah. Yeah. So, uh,

I ask you once again,

who sent you to me?

Well, I'm sorry, but, uh...

I promised my friend

that I wouldn't
mention his name,

but, uh...

I'm quite sure that, uh, you
know him by his nickname.

I never had any
client with a nick...

Oh, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

You couldn't mean Jim,
could you? Jim the dodger?

Oh, ho-ho, you're a
clever man, Mr. Lavendor.

Jim the dodger.

Well...

He still running
Liverpool to suit himself?

The best.

Señora Pellargo.

You're leaving?

Is there any reason
for me to stay...

here, of all places?

I wish to continue
my husband's work

and to work for
his political party

and try to repair the
damage that has been done

to relations between our
two countries by his death.

Now, that's a very
courageous plan, señora,

but have you thought about
the personal danger involved?

Your husband's dedication
to certain objectives

got him killed.

Well, that was the act of
a single misguided fanatic.

That man is dead.

What if I were to tell you

that Claudio
Antille is not dead?

Oh... Well, that's absurd.

I saw his body with my
own eyes. So did you.

I think we were both
deceived, señora.

I hope to prove in a few days

there was a conspiracy
to fake his death.

Till then, I'd like to
provide a guard for you

as long as you're here. Oh, no.

Thank you. He would
just be in my way.

But señora...

I would prefer to hear no
more about it, Mr. West.

Good day, señora.

I have a dreadful feeling
your nosy Mr. West

is going to force
me to kill him.

You brought the money?

In small bills, as requested.

Mm-hmm. Mmm.

All right.

This way.

Now...

Ah!

Will you step this
way, please, Mr. Link?

Well, thank you. You know,
I'm really quite impressed.

It's much quicker
service than I expected.

Ha, ha! Well, we aim to satisfy.

Now, would you remove
your outer garments?

Finley, uh, help Mr. Link with
the final processing, please.

Of course.

Thank you.

Ah, as regards the seating,

should we anticipate
many mourners?

I like to think so, yes.

Mostly lovely young ladies,

sobbing incontrollably.

Ah, an epitaph. Have
you considered an epitaph?

How about...

"gone to a higher court"?

Mr. Link, you're a
devil. Heh-heh-heh!

Well, I think that, uh,
covers just about everything,

except for the final step.

Thank you.

You know, I had no idea
dying could be so entertaining.

The entertainment
is just about to begin.

Oh, good. Heh-heh-heh! Uh, Golo?

Uh, anything the
matter, gentlemen?

Uh, just that final step I
mentioned to you before.

You see, very soon,
you're gonna put aside

this burdensome identity.

In short, you will cease
to be Artemus Gordon,

secret agent for the
United States government.

I just had one of those
nagging suspicions

that something's gone wrong.

Mr. Gordon in trouble?

Poor lad.

Which jail?

Oh, worse than any jail, Rose.

Mr. Gordon is, uh, in an
undertaking establishment.

Last night, he didn't show up.

Anyway, Rose,

what I need now is
the help I asked you for.

You're on.

What do you want done?

And what rascal do
you want it done to?

Oh, no, Rose. Nothing like that.

Can you play a grieving widow?

Faith.

Me,

who hasn't even gotten
around to being a wife yet?

I wanna locate Lavendor's files,

and Rose, I want you to keep him

as busy as possible
in the front office,

while I go around
to the back and...

And Rose? Huh?

I think I just figured
out the back door

to Lavendor's funeral emporium.

Have you now?

There was blood on this poster.

I distinctly remember

Artemus rubbing
his fingers across it.

Poor Patrick!

Me own devoted husband,

gone to his untimely
reward. Yes, well, now, dear...

What a good and
gentle lad he was too,

except when he'd had a few.

Uh, madam, I think
you should try to...

I do believe I'm going to faint.

No, don't. Everything
is going dark.

Finley! Bring some water! Ohhh.

Come over here to
the sofa, madam, and...

Poor...

poor Patrick.

He's gone.

Ohhh!

Throw water on her.

Artie, you in there?

Jim? Glad you could make it.

Ahem. Don't worry,
Artie, I'll get you out.

Don't wait too long.

I'm scheduled for
an early departure.

Gotta find those
files. Any clues?

The chapel. Try there.

Right.

Artie, don't go away.

Oh! Poor Sean.

He's dead.

I thought you said
his name was Patrick.

Oh? Oh! Oh, uh...

Uh, well, Patrick's me
husband, and Sean's me...

Me brother.

They were both in
the same accident.

Oh.

What a terrible double loss.

Terrible.

Terrible! Terrible!

Yes, madam, you...

Get some smelling salts!

Quickly. We've gotta
get her out of here.

What?

Well, search the
entire place. Go on!

Enough.

I'm... I'm all right now.

Good. I'm sorry, madam,

but you'll have
to leave at once.

Ah. But what about me...
Me dear departed ones?

Yes, well, try
some funeral parlor

that specializes in hysterics.

See if I ever bring you
any more business, you...

You glorified taxidermist!

What's the matter with you?

Eh? What's the matter with you?

Oh...

yeah.

You better quit sampling
that formaldehyde.

You hear me?

I've changed my mind.

I thought it all over,

and I want my money back.

Oh, I'm afraid that'll be
impossible, Mr. Gordon.

You see, you're going
to be doubly useful now.

As it happens, we
have an order for a body

exactly your size. Mm-hmm.

You mean I'm subbing for
some crook at his funeral?

Yes. Exactly.

Your last official
act will be to provide

a new life for a
vicious criminal.

I hope you find that
as amusing as I do.

Oh, yes, I can hardly
keep from laughing.

Uh, Finley, bring
Mr. Gordon's coffin now.

Here we are. Mm-hm.

And now, Mr. Gordon...

goodbye.

What took you so long?

I was kinda cozy in there.

Must have dozed off. You
weren't worried, were you?

Because I was being
strangled? Of course not.

It's going to be quiet
around here now.

We better take a look
at Lavendor's files.

You mean you found them?

Not only did I find them,

I did some browsing on my own,

and I found that the old boy

has been blackmailing
his customers too.

Well...

nice of him to keep
these up-to-date.

Yes, very thoughtful.
About the only detail left out

is where Antille is headed.

And I'll be glad to
supply that data.

It occurred to me
that I might find

you and your colleague here.

That's not a very
good disguise, Antille.

It has proved adequate so far,

and anyone who might question it

will very soon be dead.

Into the other room. Quickly.

You two did a remarkable job.

Too bad it has to be
spoiled at the last moment.

Now I know how you managed
to stay one jump ahead of us:

the devoted Señora Pellargo.

Devoted to Mr. Antille.

Well, you should
know, gentlemen,

a woman never does
anything for political reasons.

I'm delighted to
see you, Antille.

Now I want you to
shoot these two men.

Get rid of them now.

Precisely why I returned.

You see, gentlemen,

in my job, loose ends
are not only messy,

but also dangerous.

How do you feel about blackmail?

Don't believe him, Antille.

What do you mean, blackmail?

I mean, that quaint
little operation

that, uh, Mr. Lavendor
has been running

at the expense of his clients.

He's the most imaginative
liar I've ever met in my life.

I wouldn't...

Antille, now, don't believe him.

Now... Now, wait a minute, now.

The truth is, I may
have dabbled a little bit.

The files, they were there.
Why not? It didn't matter.

It was something on the side.

But with yours,
never. Never, Antille.

Now, don't do it. Don't do it.

All right, gentlemen,

throw the records down.

Let's have a nice, big
blazing bonfire, shall we?

Darling...

strike a match.

No, wait. Wait. Let's
make it a big blaze.

Mr. West...

throw alcohol
over those records.

Oh!

Oh.

Just how long did you expect me

to wait out there in
the carriage for you?

Rose, please. No violence.

Well, Rose, thanks to you

we'll be rounding up a
lot of infamous criminals.

And there'll be a reward
for helping capture

Antille and the Lavendor gang.

Ah, it'll be reward
enough for me

to get the proper Christian
headstone over me father.

I do feel like celebrating that.

Good. Then tonight,
when you finish work...

Uh, he took the words out
from between my very teeth.

You're a fine pair of lads,

the both of you.

But I've already
got an engagement.

Oh, but, Rose, consider.

We're not mere men

we're men of the
law and justice.

And here comes me boyfriend now.

That's what I call a lawman.

I'll, uh... I'll drink
to that, Rose.