The X-Files (1993–…): Season 7, Episode 8 - The Amazing Maleeni - full transcript
Mulder and Scully investigate the apparent murder of a magician who was decapitated just minutes after he was able to perform the trick of turning his head around 360 degrees. The agents ...
Mr Maleeni.
Hey, guy. You ready to rumble?
If by "rumble" you mean "perform", yes, I am.
Cool. You know how they said you get $125 for the day?
It's gonna be 75 instead. The gates for crap. But the show's got to go on, right?
This will be my greatest show ever.
Right on.
Ladies and gentlemen, damas y caballeros,
I aim today not just to entertain, but to educate,
to instruct and inform
in the venerable and ancient history of my art.
Until Johann Nepomuk Hofsinzer called playing cards "the poetry of magic",
a conjurer's skill was determined entirely by his ability to perform one effect.
That effect was known as "the cups and balls".
The games were known for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.
Perhaps the greatest performer was the Italian Bartolomeo Bosco.
Get on with it!
Bosco‘s passes with the cups and balls.
Vade...
chubio...
celeriter.
Three gone... and yet three return.
Bosco had only one contemporary rival, a Frenchman named Conus,
who announced in that he would make his wife, who was five foot seven,
appear under one of the cups.
Practice though I have, I have been unable even to get married.
Ha... ha... ha!
Conus placed one ball in his pocket.
He put the second ball away.
Putting the third ball in his hand, he made it vanish,
and that's the mystery of the cups... and the balls.
Yo! Can't you do anything that ain‘t a hundred years old?
That ain't old-school, that's decrepit!
Young man, shall I come heckle you on your job?
Make sure you count out the requisite number of McNuggets?
Show me something.
Come on. Show me something!
A callow challenge to be met by experience and skill.
To wit, the Egyptian Dedi,
whose most celebrated feat was to reattach a recently severed head,
reuniting it with a still-warm body, and no harm done.
Western history knows three previous attempts
at recreating this Noachian feat,
each of the three ending in tragedy.
This will be the fourth.
May I have complete silence, please?
Yeah! Signor Maleeni!
Whoo-hoo!
Let's give it up for the Amazing Maleeni.
Guy, you rock. That kicked ass!
I mean, it looked completely real. How did you do that?
Oh, yeah, right. Magic.
Oh, hey, your money. Hold up.
Two, four, 50, 55, 60, 65, 70, 75.
You earned it.
Mr Maleeni?
Mr Maleeni.
Oh, God... Oh...
- Neat trick, huh? - I can think of a heater one:
How you convinced me to get on the first plane to Los Angeles.
This isn't intriguing enough for you?
A magician turns his head completely around 360 degrees
to the delight of young and old alike,
after which it plops unceremoniously onto the pier.
- Did you see the picture? - Yeah, I saw the picture.
As for this Amazing Maleeni turning his head all the way around...
- Like you said, Mulder, neat trick. - But...?
But I'd guess this event was completely removed from the subsequent murder.
You think this was a murder?
Don't you? Mulder, his head was cutoff.
Ah! Observe the nearly complete absence of blood,
Observe the paucity of fingerprints
as evidenced by the LAPD's liberal use of lycopodium powder.
You sound like Tony Randall.
Know that Maleeni was alive one moment and expired the next,
also that no one saw his fleeing attacker nor heard the dying man's cries.
I admit that I don't know how it happened, but I still say that it was a murder.
- So what's your theory? - A magic trick gone horribly wrong.
One that claims the lives of all who attempt it.
Can I see that camcorder again?
Thank you.
A tourist videotaped Maleeni's performance.
Look at this.
That ain't old school, that's decrepit!
Who's the heckler?
Come on. Show me something!
I don't know.
Neat trick, huh?
Hang on a second. Let me see this.
That heckler was pretty hard to impress, wouldn't you say?
Look, and then he just takes off in a huff.
- You think he's a murderer? - It's worth checking out.
That'll be a neat trick in itself. You never see his face.
Ah! But observe.
His discarded soda cup. The hand may be quicker than the eye,
- but it still leaves fingerprints. - Provided they haven't dumped the trash.
Sceptic.
Mr LaBonge?
We're Agents Mulder and Scully from the FBI.
Were you at the Santa Monica Pier yesterday morning?
Yeah.
You attended a magic show. The Amazing Maleeni.
Yeah, he sucks. Why?
He's dead, under extremely suspicious circumstances.
He still sucks. How'd you find me?
Your fingerprints. You have a criminal record.
A conviction for pickpocketing.
Man, that was performance art. Besides, it's ancient history.
What are you saying? You think I killed him?
You're on videotape heckling the deceased.
What did you have against Mr Maleeni?
First of all, his name's not Maleeni.
That's the name of a real magician, a guy at the turn of the century, Max Malini.
- Ever hear of him? - No,
Too bad. You should have. Anyway, he steals his name, spells it differently,
and does some tired crap that wouldn't cut it at a kid's birthday party.
What about when he turns his head completely around?
Check it out.
No problem. Did you like that?
Yeah.
Watch.
Coin in the hand...
blows away.
Maybe it's a little bit hard for you to see.
Let me make that... bigger for you.
I don't see how they're any different or better than the ones Maleeni did.
Mozart and Salieri.
They sound pretty much the same to a layman.
But they ain't. You know what I'm saying?
It's about originality.
Style.
And more than anything else...
soul.
Because that's what separates the great ones from the hacks.
We can't do this halfway. We're dealing with powerful forces at work here.
Energies far beyond our mere mortal...
understanding.
Enough to make a magician lose his head?
Could be.
That, and I hear Maleeni racked up some pretty big gambling debts.
Who knows who he might've pissed off?
Thank you, Mr LaBonge. We'll be in touch.
Please do. Oh, and Agents?
Mozart and Salieri. Which one's which?
I think that professional jealousy is as good a motive for murder as any.
If it was a murder. I'm not convinced.
If I can get Maleeni into an autopsy bay, hopefully we can put this issue to rest.
All right, I'm stumped. And I think I'm supposed to be.
What do you think?
First of all, I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but Mr Maleeni's head didn't just magically fall off.
It was very carefully sawed.
Very slow and exacting work, probably with a fine-tooth meat saw.
And check out this little detail...
Spirit gum, Mulder.
It held the head to the body. Just barely, of course.
- So he was murdered. - Well, no.
As far as I can tell, this man died of advanced coronary disease.
- Natural causes. - Yeah.
So he died of a heart attack, somebody sawed his head off
and then glued it back on, all in 30 seconds.
Which makes it even stranger still
because, as far as I can tell, this body has been dead for over a month.
I see signs of refrigeration.
And yet he performed yesterday. What a trouper.
Somebody performed yesterday.
Cissy Alvarez.
Who are you?
You don't remember me. Ain't that a bitch?
My name's LaBonge. I did time with you eight years ago.
You were in for bank robbery.
The name doesn't mean anything. What do you want?
I hear you're a poker player.
You won big off a guy who calls himself the Amazing Maleeni.
Also goes by the name of Herman Pinchbeck.
Pinchbeck?
- He's dead. - Yeah, I saw in the paper.
Something about his head fell off. What's it to you?
I'm the guy that made his head fall off.
You took his marker. What did he owe you, 15 grand?
- 20. - He was never gonna pay you back.
You want to cut to the chase?
Get more of your story out before we stomp you to death?
How would you like to get back what you're owed? Times ten.
$200,000? How?
- Helping me. - Do what?
Magic.
Wanna hear more?
Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr Albert Pinchbeck.
He's the gentleman right over there. The poor man.
- He look familiar to you, Scully? - He certainly does.
- The plot thickens. - He might try and run.
Come in.
- Good morning, Mr and Mrs...? - Agents...
Mulder and Scully. FBI.
You're not here for a home loan, I take it.
No, we are investigating the death of a magician
who called himself the Amazing Maleeni.
Herman Pinchbeck, my twin brother.
Yes, we know. We checked his next of kin.
- What happened to your neck? - I was in a car accident.
Car accident.
So it has nothing to do with a magic trick you performed at the Santa Monica Pier?
One which involved you turning your head 360 degrees?
No. That wasn't me. I was in a bad car accident in Mexico.
Oh, bad Mexican car accident. In Mexico.
Do you know magic, Mr Pinchbeck?
Yes, I do. Back in the 703, my brother and I performed together.
- Why did you stop? - You never really stop.
Pick a card, any card?
Hm. Very impressive.
My brother and I both wanted to do the best magic the world had ever seen.
The difference was I knew we'd never get there, but he always believed we would.
We didn't talk much after I quit the act.
I have a theory, Mr Pinchbeck, and I'm gonna tell you how it goes:
Herman died of heart disease having never made it as the world's greatest magician,
and that hurts you, just as your estrangement from him hurts you.
And I think what you did was perform his last act for him,
one last act for which he'd always be remembered,
that would end with such a shock, such a denouement,
as would be for ever remembered in the annals of magic.
That's what I think.
I so wish that were true.
It was a very bad car accident in Mexico.
- 0y. - No kidding.
- What now? - A guy's head falls off.
The greatest trick in the world, only there's no point to it.
What's the reason for doing it?
Why do people do magic? To impress, to delight, to gain attention.
This one's gained mostly police attention.
Maybe that's the point.
Maybe we should consult an expert.
Someone who knows magic, who's seen the greatest trick in the world.
Maybe he can help us figure that out.
- Mozart. - Yeah.
What's in it for me? I mean, let's say I help you out.
What do I get in return?
The feeling of pride that comes from performing your civic duty.
How about the chance to root through
the professional secrets of your least favourite magician?
Good for a laugh, I guess.
Man, it's worse than I thought.
You gotta feed those things, you know.
So...
- Maleeni wasn't murdered? - It would seem not.
So someone impersonated him and his crappy act.
It's impressive.
I'd say the twin did it, but I don't think he's any better a magician than Maleeni.
There's that, and he's got no legs.
Yeah. Whatever.
Anyway, we're looking for a magician with the same height and build.
Good make-up and the right wig, and no one would know the difference.
Not even you, I guess.
I had a couple of JeII-O shots in me.
How did this impersonator switch out the dead body?
With ease.
You'll kick yourselves when I show you how he did this, it's so simple.
Because magic is all about...
misdirection.
Your impersonator made sure everyone was looking the other way
when he pulled Maleeni's body from its secret hiding place underneath...
the floor.
Man... this guy's good.
Well, thanks for your expert opinion.
I guess we're right back where we started.
Maybe not. You said the Amazing Maleeni had some gambling debts?
Yeah, that's what I heard.
Check this out. It looks like a marker.
$20,000. Pinchbeck.
What would this be doing in Maleeni's van?
Thank you, Mr Pinchbeck. If you could sign here for me.
With pleasure.
Anthony, what kind of gun is that?
Glock 17, nine-millimeter.
I've been thinking of maybe buying one.
Here, take a look.
Hm. Gosh, it's heavier than l would have thought.
Thank you, Anthony, Marvin.
If you ever want, I'll take you to the shooting range.
- Have a good one, Mr Pinchbeck. - You too.
Hello. May I help you?
- Damn, you look just like him. - I'm sorry?
Your no-good, malapaga brother died owing me money.
A lot of money. You're gonna make good.
I'm sorry, but my brother's debts are his own.
I said, you're gonna make good,
cos me and my friends, we know where you live.
- Does that sound like the rear diff? - Pull over.
Stay here and call it in. I'll check it out.
We got a problem with the rear diff out on Fourth and Main, checkin' it out...
You! In the truck!
Get up where I can see you! Hands where I can see them!
Up! Hands up!
All right, get out.
Mister, get out!
I got a guy down back here!
It was a guy with tattoos! I shot him four times!
I don't understand. He was right here.
That's your handwriting, is it not?
Mr Alvarez, please answer the question.
That ain't mine. I don't know where you got that.
Yours are the only fingerprints on it.
We ran it through the California criminal history database,
to which you seem to be quite well-known.
So it's my marker.
So Pinchbeck owed me money. It was a friendly game of poker.
Very friendly. $20,000 friendly.
- Where did you find that? - In Herman Pinchbeck's van.
Where were you last Thursday?
Here. All day. Ask 'em.
What is it you think I did to Pinchbeck?
What's in it for me? If I kill him, he ain't gonna pay me.
Why did you play with him? You knew he was a magician.
I didn't know what he was.
And he sure as hell couldn't play worth a damn.
Don't leave town, Mr Alvarez.
Isn't it odd that the Amazing Maleeni's a lousy poker player?
- He was adept at manipulating cards. - Maybe he wasn't so adept.
LaBonge certainly doesn't have a high opinion of his skills.
There's another possibility. Behold, an ordinary household quarter.
I take the quarter from my right hand and place it in my left.
Where is it?
- In your right hand. - No.
- Ah... - That's not bad.
Blow your nose.
- Blow your nose. - Atchoo.
- Ta-da. Look at that. - Amazing!
- The Great Muldeeni. - What's the point?
It's misdirection, the heart of magic. You looked one way, the quarter went the other.
- You think that's what's happening? - We're being led around by our noses.
By whom? Maleeni's already dead.
It appears so, but then, you thought the quarter was in the right hand.
- 911. - Hello?
I want to report a man with a gun. He... he's threatening to kill somebody.
- Can you please speak up? - No, I can't speak up. I... No, I can't!
Sir?
Hello?
Hello?
Son of a bitch.
Hey, partner. Hey, guys.
- You son of a bitch. - I'm sorry?
You tried to frame me.
- Hijo de tu... - I didn't!
- You didn't? - We got a deal!
We got no deal. I'm gonna bleed you.
Back off!
You're dead.
Freeze! Drop your weapon!
- Hands behind your head! - Do it!
Bring your head down. Spread your legs.
Agents. An unexpected surprise. Good afternoon.
We'd like to have a word with you.
- I'm fairly busy, actually. - I'll bet.
- Hey! - Let's take a little spin.
- What's this all about? - It's about misdirection, Mr Pinchbeck...
or should I say the Amazing Maleeni?
Mulder!
It's a trick, Scully. Voila.
Had you fooled.
You're Maleeni?
Call me Herman.
I was afraid for my life. That's why I did what I did.
I'm not proud of that.
But I owe a lot of money that I can't possibly pay back.
We know. Gambling debts to a man named Alvarez.
Yeah, that tattooed psychopath.
I've heard terrible stories about him, things he did in prison to fellow inmates.
So why'd you play poker with him?
He runs a good game. I gamble to supplement my income.
God knows, magic barely pays.
Why did you lose? You could have manipulated the cards.
Cheat? You're asking why I don't cheat at cards?
Well, you could, right?
Of course I could.
But how would I live with myself?
Who raised you?
Well, sir, what does any of this have to do with your twin brother
being found decapitated at the Santa Monica Pier?
I went to my brother for a loan. Just my luck, and his.
You found him dead of a heart attack.
His body was still warm.
Looking at him, lifeless, I saw myself,
my own eventual mortality.
I saw all the things I meant to accomplish but didn't.
It was an opportunity to vanish, become someone else.
Like I said, I'm not proud of what I did.
And so you refrigerated the body...
I needed time to figure out how to pull it all off.
Impersonating my brother, I called the bank, told them I needed a vacation week.
A trip to Mexico.
Then the bank received word that I'd been in a terrible accident.
It gave me plenty of time away from work.
And you posed as an amputee to allay suspicion that you weren't your brother.
That, and I rather enjoyed the sympathy, especially from the women in our office.
You, uh, still haven't explained why you left your brothers body at the pier,
or why you arranged to have his head fall off.
He explained it. He put it so eloquently when we last spoke.
It was my final performance.
I wanted to go out with such a shock, such a denouement,
as would for ever be remembered in the annals of magic.
- That was your last performance. - What's this for?
Well, I still think you got a few tricks up your sleeve.
My God.
We gave you handicapped parking. We built you a ramp.
- Did he have access to the vaults? - Yes, he has a key to the day gate.
- Several of us do. - What are you looking for?
Any hint at all as to why Maleeni here is really impersonating his brother.
What about this? Could he have removed funds electronically?
He didn't have security clearance for electronic fund transfers.
Maybe he got around it. Can we check the withdrawal records?
It would require your badge number and thumb print, and probably a subpoena.
We're extra cautious with the EFTs. You can understand why.
There may be an easier way. If I call up a transaction list for this terminal...
No. No, everything's in order.
It says here something about a robbery attempt yesterday.
That wasn't against us, but the armoured transport service we deal with.
No money was taken and no suspects were caught.
Mr Pinchbeck was the employee who signed out the truck.
He knew the schedule.
- I had nothing to do with that. - Maybe, maybe not.
We'll hold you till we find out, to make sure you don't pull a vanishing act.
Hey.
- Paul, I'm putting Mr Pinchbeck in six. - Right.
Sleep tight.
Wait, don't I get a phone call, sir? Sir?
- How'd it go? - Swimmingly.
Abracadabra, man.
Oh, damn!
Yes. OK.
- All right. All right, thank you. - Maleeni?
He's still in the city lockup where he's been since we arrested him.
It certainly doesn't look like he did this. Lots of fingerprints.
I guarantee you none of them match our thieves,
They're too clever to leave clues, except for the ones they want us to find.
Excuse me. May I show you something?
We thought the camera footage might show the robbers.
- Does it? - No.
They all mysteriously went blank from about 3 a.m. to 3.20.
- That's not what we wanted you to see. - This is from two days ago.
Cissy Alvarez. Convicted bank robber.
- You recognize this man? - Yeah. Who is he to you?
I know those tattoos. That's the man who tried to rob my truck.
What the hell, man? What did I do?
You, FBI, what's up with this?
You can't just bust in here! I got rights.
I'm gonna call my lawyer, then we'll see what's what.
- Nothing back there. - This is harassment. This is harassment!
What are they looking for? Come on, man! Somebody talk to me.
- Shut up. - No, you shut up!
Man, this ain't right. Why'd you put the cuffs on so tight?
Yo, will you please tell me what he's looking for?
Well... Saving up for a rainy day?
Oh, no, no. We got framed. This is a frame-up!
- It was the magician. - The magician? Maleeni?
No, not the dead one, man! That little cabron!
LaBonge! LaBonge set me up! Listen to me,,,
- Billy LaBonge. - And the Amazing Maleeni.
That's a double bill I wouldn't wanna miss.
Pinchbeck, you made your bail.
You too, LaBonge.
OK.
Releasing these two may be a bit premature.
Give us a minute, will you?
Good morning. Did you sleep well?
Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.
- Bravo. Really. - What do you mean?
Last night the Cradock Marine Bank was robbed of $1.8 million.
This morning that amount was found in the possession of Mr Cissy Alvarez.
Wow. I told you he was bad news. Bravo to you.
- That was expeditious police work. - Thank you. It was.
It's only that Alvarez was so obviously guilty.
A convicted bank robber witnessed trying to rob an armoured car two days earlier?
- He'll need a good lawyer. - Yeah.
He's up a creek. Just like you two want him.
I don't quite see where you're headed with this.
I have no evidence, but I have a theory, Mr Maleeni,
and I'll tell you how it goes:
Your twin brother, Albert, died of a heart attack,
at which point you and your protege saw an opportunity.
My protege? I hate this guy's guts.
That's what you wanted us to think.
You wanted revenge against the man who made your life in prison hell.
I did time with you about eight years ago.
Alvarez. You and he were on the same cell block eight years ago.
It was a setup. You played poker with him and made sure you lost big.
It gave LaBonge an in with Alvarez once everybody thought you were dead.
LaBonge planted Alvarez's marker in Maleeni's van so we'd find it.
You used Alvarez's greed in order to ensnare him
and then orchestrated the attempted bank robbery to implicate him.
That was you in the armoured car, disguised as Alvarez.
Mr Pinchbeck got ahold of the guard's gun and switched the clip.
Guard didn't know it, but he was firing blanks.
Then last night the two of you robbed the bank,
and planted the money at Alvarez's place.
Don't you think we have pretty good alibis?
You have the best alibis in the world,
which is why you two got arrested in the first place.
With your expertise at sleight-of-hand pickpocketing,
I think you were both able to get out of here by pilfering a guard's key.
You escaped, stole the money, framed Alvarez and came back for breakfast.
Scrambled eggs and sausage.
That would be the world's greatest trick, wouldn't it?
One that would be for ever remembered in the annals of magic.
- What happens to us? - To you?
You go free... provided the magic is over.
The great ones always know when to leave the stage.
Billy, let's get the hell outta here.
- They are the world's greatest. - We saw through their magic.
Nah, there's more.
Behold!
- The Amazing Maleeni's wallet. - You picked his pocket?
I pilfered it from the evidence room to prevent their final act of prestidigitation.
- What do you mean? - I began to wonder,
why did they need so elaborate a setup?
Why so high-profile? Why draw the attention of the FBI in the first place?
- We were the last piece of the puzzle. - Alvarez was a misdirection.
This trick was about EFTs, electronic funds transfers at the bank.
Maleeni, Pinchbeck, he didn't have security clearance,
so he needed federal law enforcement intervention -
specifically, my badge number...
and my thumb print.
With those two items, they could steal enough electronically
as to make that $1.8 million look like cigar-lighting money.
But they can't do it without this.
Pick a card, Scully. Any card.
There's still one thing that you haven't explained.
What's that?
How Maleeni was able to turn his head completely around.
- I don't know that. - I do. I'll show you.
Observe.
Gee! Very nice. How'd you do that?
Well... magic.
No, seriously, Scully, how'd you do it?
You know, it's not the same thing. It's different with the head.
Come on. Look at this.
I made this.
Hey, guy. You ready to rumble?
If by "rumble" you mean "perform", yes, I am.
Cool. You know how they said you get $125 for the day?
It's gonna be 75 instead. The gates for crap. But the show's got to go on, right?
This will be my greatest show ever.
Right on.
Ladies and gentlemen, damas y caballeros,
I aim today not just to entertain, but to educate,
to instruct and inform
in the venerable and ancient history of my art.
Until Johann Nepomuk Hofsinzer called playing cards "the poetry of magic",
a conjurer's skill was determined entirely by his ability to perform one effect.
That effect was known as "the cups and balls".
The games were known for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.
Perhaps the greatest performer was the Italian Bartolomeo Bosco.
Get on with it!
Bosco‘s passes with the cups and balls.
Vade...
chubio...
celeriter.
Three gone... and yet three return.
Bosco had only one contemporary rival, a Frenchman named Conus,
who announced in that he would make his wife, who was five foot seven,
appear under one of the cups.
Practice though I have, I have been unable even to get married.
Ha... ha... ha!
Conus placed one ball in his pocket.
He put the second ball away.
Putting the third ball in his hand, he made it vanish,
and that's the mystery of the cups... and the balls.
Yo! Can't you do anything that ain‘t a hundred years old?
That ain't old-school, that's decrepit!
Young man, shall I come heckle you on your job?
Make sure you count out the requisite number of McNuggets?
Show me something.
Come on. Show me something!
A callow challenge to be met by experience and skill.
To wit, the Egyptian Dedi,
whose most celebrated feat was to reattach a recently severed head,
reuniting it with a still-warm body, and no harm done.
Western history knows three previous attempts
at recreating this Noachian feat,
each of the three ending in tragedy.
This will be the fourth.
May I have complete silence, please?
Yeah! Signor Maleeni!
Whoo-hoo!
Let's give it up for the Amazing Maleeni.
Guy, you rock. That kicked ass!
I mean, it looked completely real. How did you do that?
Oh, yeah, right. Magic.
Oh, hey, your money. Hold up.
Two, four, 50, 55, 60, 65, 70, 75.
You earned it.
Mr Maleeni?
Mr Maleeni.
Oh, God... Oh...
- Neat trick, huh? - I can think of a heater one:
How you convinced me to get on the first plane to Los Angeles.
This isn't intriguing enough for you?
A magician turns his head completely around 360 degrees
to the delight of young and old alike,
after which it plops unceremoniously onto the pier.
- Did you see the picture? - Yeah, I saw the picture.
As for this Amazing Maleeni turning his head all the way around...
- Like you said, Mulder, neat trick. - But...?
But I'd guess this event was completely removed from the subsequent murder.
You think this was a murder?
Don't you? Mulder, his head was cutoff.
Ah! Observe the nearly complete absence of blood,
Observe the paucity of fingerprints
as evidenced by the LAPD's liberal use of lycopodium powder.
You sound like Tony Randall.
Know that Maleeni was alive one moment and expired the next,
also that no one saw his fleeing attacker nor heard the dying man's cries.
I admit that I don't know how it happened, but I still say that it was a murder.
- So what's your theory? - A magic trick gone horribly wrong.
One that claims the lives of all who attempt it.
Can I see that camcorder again?
Thank you.
A tourist videotaped Maleeni's performance.
Look at this.
That ain't old school, that's decrepit!
Who's the heckler?
Come on. Show me something!
I don't know.
Neat trick, huh?
Hang on a second. Let me see this.
That heckler was pretty hard to impress, wouldn't you say?
Look, and then he just takes off in a huff.
- You think he's a murderer? - It's worth checking out.
That'll be a neat trick in itself. You never see his face.
Ah! But observe.
His discarded soda cup. The hand may be quicker than the eye,
- but it still leaves fingerprints. - Provided they haven't dumped the trash.
Sceptic.
Mr LaBonge?
We're Agents Mulder and Scully from the FBI.
Were you at the Santa Monica Pier yesterday morning?
Yeah.
You attended a magic show. The Amazing Maleeni.
Yeah, he sucks. Why?
He's dead, under extremely suspicious circumstances.
He still sucks. How'd you find me?
Your fingerprints. You have a criminal record.
A conviction for pickpocketing.
Man, that was performance art. Besides, it's ancient history.
What are you saying? You think I killed him?
You're on videotape heckling the deceased.
What did you have against Mr Maleeni?
First of all, his name's not Maleeni.
That's the name of a real magician, a guy at the turn of the century, Max Malini.
- Ever hear of him? - No,
Too bad. You should have. Anyway, he steals his name, spells it differently,
and does some tired crap that wouldn't cut it at a kid's birthday party.
What about when he turns his head completely around?
Check it out.
No problem. Did you like that?
Yeah.
Watch.
Coin in the hand...
blows away.
Maybe it's a little bit hard for you to see.
Let me make that... bigger for you.
I don't see how they're any different or better than the ones Maleeni did.
Mozart and Salieri.
They sound pretty much the same to a layman.
But they ain't. You know what I'm saying?
It's about originality.
Style.
And more than anything else...
soul.
Because that's what separates the great ones from the hacks.
We can't do this halfway. We're dealing with powerful forces at work here.
Energies far beyond our mere mortal...
understanding.
Enough to make a magician lose his head?
Could be.
That, and I hear Maleeni racked up some pretty big gambling debts.
Who knows who he might've pissed off?
Thank you, Mr LaBonge. We'll be in touch.
Please do. Oh, and Agents?
Mozart and Salieri. Which one's which?
I think that professional jealousy is as good a motive for murder as any.
If it was a murder. I'm not convinced.
If I can get Maleeni into an autopsy bay, hopefully we can put this issue to rest.
All right, I'm stumped. And I think I'm supposed to be.
What do you think?
First of all, I'm sorry to disappoint you,
but Mr Maleeni's head didn't just magically fall off.
It was very carefully sawed.
Very slow and exacting work, probably with a fine-tooth meat saw.
And check out this little detail...
Spirit gum, Mulder.
It held the head to the body. Just barely, of course.
- So he was murdered. - Well, no.
As far as I can tell, this man died of advanced coronary disease.
- Natural causes. - Yeah.
So he died of a heart attack, somebody sawed his head off
and then glued it back on, all in 30 seconds.
Which makes it even stranger still
because, as far as I can tell, this body has been dead for over a month.
I see signs of refrigeration.
And yet he performed yesterday. What a trouper.
Somebody performed yesterday.
Cissy Alvarez.
Who are you?
You don't remember me. Ain't that a bitch?
My name's LaBonge. I did time with you eight years ago.
You were in for bank robbery.
The name doesn't mean anything. What do you want?
I hear you're a poker player.
You won big off a guy who calls himself the Amazing Maleeni.
Also goes by the name of Herman Pinchbeck.
Pinchbeck?
- He's dead. - Yeah, I saw in the paper.
Something about his head fell off. What's it to you?
I'm the guy that made his head fall off.
You took his marker. What did he owe you, 15 grand?
- 20. - He was never gonna pay you back.
You want to cut to the chase?
Get more of your story out before we stomp you to death?
How would you like to get back what you're owed? Times ten.
$200,000? How?
- Helping me. - Do what?
Magic.
Wanna hear more?
Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr Albert Pinchbeck.
He's the gentleman right over there. The poor man.
- He look familiar to you, Scully? - He certainly does.
- The plot thickens. - He might try and run.
Come in.
- Good morning, Mr and Mrs...? - Agents...
Mulder and Scully. FBI.
You're not here for a home loan, I take it.
No, we are investigating the death of a magician
who called himself the Amazing Maleeni.
Herman Pinchbeck, my twin brother.
Yes, we know. We checked his next of kin.
- What happened to your neck? - I was in a car accident.
Car accident.
So it has nothing to do with a magic trick you performed at the Santa Monica Pier?
One which involved you turning your head 360 degrees?
No. That wasn't me. I was in a bad car accident in Mexico.
Oh, bad Mexican car accident. In Mexico.
Do you know magic, Mr Pinchbeck?
Yes, I do. Back in the 703, my brother and I performed together.
- Why did you stop? - You never really stop.
Pick a card, any card?
Hm. Very impressive.
My brother and I both wanted to do the best magic the world had ever seen.
The difference was I knew we'd never get there, but he always believed we would.
We didn't talk much after I quit the act.
I have a theory, Mr Pinchbeck, and I'm gonna tell you how it goes:
Herman died of heart disease having never made it as the world's greatest magician,
and that hurts you, just as your estrangement from him hurts you.
And I think what you did was perform his last act for him,
one last act for which he'd always be remembered,
that would end with such a shock, such a denouement,
as would be for ever remembered in the annals of magic.
That's what I think.
I so wish that were true.
It was a very bad car accident in Mexico.
- 0y. - No kidding.
- What now? - A guy's head falls off.
The greatest trick in the world, only there's no point to it.
What's the reason for doing it?
Why do people do magic? To impress, to delight, to gain attention.
This one's gained mostly police attention.
Maybe that's the point.
Maybe we should consult an expert.
Someone who knows magic, who's seen the greatest trick in the world.
Maybe he can help us figure that out.
- Mozart. - Yeah.
What's in it for me? I mean, let's say I help you out.
What do I get in return?
The feeling of pride that comes from performing your civic duty.
How about the chance to root through
the professional secrets of your least favourite magician?
Good for a laugh, I guess.
Man, it's worse than I thought.
You gotta feed those things, you know.
So...
- Maleeni wasn't murdered? - It would seem not.
So someone impersonated him and his crappy act.
It's impressive.
I'd say the twin did it, but I don't think he's any better a magician than Maleeni.
There's that, and he's got no legs.
Yeah. Whatever.
Anyway, we're looking for a magician with the same height and build.
Good make-up and the right wig, and no one would know the difference.
Not even you, I guess.
I had a couple of JeII-O shots in me.
How did this impersonator switch out the dead body?
With ease.
You'll kick yourselves when I show you how he did this, it's so simple.
Because magic is all about...
misdirection.
Your impersonator made sure everyone was looking the other way
when he pulled Maleeni's body from its secret hiding place underneath...
the floor.
Man... this guy's good.
Well, thanks for your expert opinion.
I guess we're right back where we started.
Maybe not. You said the Amazing Maleeni had some gambling debts?
Yeah, that's what I heard.
Check this out. It looks like a marker.
$20,000. Pinchbeck.
What would this be doing in Maleeni's van?
Thank you, Mr Pinchbeck. If you could sign here for me.
With pleasure.
Anthony, what kind of gun is that?
Glock 17, nine-millimeter.
I've been thinking of maybe buying one.
Here, take a look.
Hm. Gosh, it's heavier than l would have thought.
Thank you, Anthony, Marvin.
If you ever want, I'll take you to the shooting range.
- Have a good one, Mr Pinchbeck. - You too.
Hello. May I help you?
- Damn, you look just like him. - I'm sorry?
Your no-good, malapaga brother died owing me money.
A lot of money. You're gonna make good.
I'm sorry, but my brother's debts are his own.
I said, you're gonna make good,
cos me and my friends, we know where you live.
- Does that sound like the rear diff? - Pull over.
Stay here and call it in. I'll check it out.
We got a problem with the rear diff out on Fourth and Main, checkin' it out...
You! In the truck!
Get up where I can see you! Hands where I can see them!
Up! Hands up!
All right, get out.
Mister, get out!
I got a guy down back here!
It was a guy with tattoos! I shot him four times!
I don't understand. He was right here.
That's your handwriting, is it not?
Mr Alvarez, please answer the question.
That ain't mine. I don't know where you got that.
Yours are the only fingerprints on it.
We ran it through the California criminal history database,
to which you seem to be quite well-known.
So it's my marker.
So Pinchbeck owed me money. It was a friendly game of poker.
Very friendly. $20,000 friendly.
- Where did you find that? - In Herman Pinchbeck's van.
Where were you last Thursday?
Here. All day. Ask 'em.
What is it you think I did to Pinchbeck?
What's in it for me? If I kill him, he ain't gonna pay me.
Why did you play with him? You knew he was a magician.
I didn't know what he was.
And he sure as hell couldn't play worth a damn.
Don't leave town, Mr Alvarez.
Isn't it odd that the Amazing Maleeni's a lousy poker player?
- He was adept at manipulating cards. - Maybe he wasn't so adept.
LaBonge certainly doesn't have a high opinion of his skills.
There's another possibility. Behold, an ordinary household quarter.
I take the quarter from my right hand and place it in my left.
Where is it?
- In your right hand. - No.
- Ah... - That's not bad.
Blow your nose.
- Blow your nose. - Atchoo.
- Ta-da. Look at that. - Amazing!
- The Great Muldeeni. - What's the point?
It's misdirection, the heart of magic. You looked one way, the quarter went the other.
- You think that's what's happening? - We're being led around by our noses.
By whom? Maleeni's already dead.
It appears so, but then, you thought the quarter was in the right hand.
- 911. - Hello?
I want to report a man with a gun. He... he's threatening to kill somebody.
- Can you please speak up? - No, I can't speak up. I... No, I can't!
Sir?
Hello?
Hello?
Son of a bitch.
Hey, partner. Hey, guys.
- You son of a bitch. - I'm sorry?
You tried to frame me.
- Hijo de tu... - I didn't!
- You didn't? - We got a deal!
We got no deal. I'm gonna bleed you.
Back off!
You're dead.
Freeze! Drop your weapon!
- Hands behind your head! - Do it!
Bring your head down. Spread your legs.
Agents. An unexpected surprise. Good afternoon.
We'd like to have a word with you.
- I'm fairly busy, actually. - I'll bet.
- Hey! - Let's take a little spin.
- What's this all about? - It's about misdirection, Mr Pinchbeck...
or should I say the Amazing Maleeni?
Mulder!
It's a trick, Scully. Voila.
Had you fooled.
You're Maleeni?
Call me Herman.
I was afraid for my life. That's why I did what I did.
I'm not proud of that.
But I owe a lot of money that I can't possibly pay back.
We know. Gambling debts to a man named Alvarez.
Yeah, that tattooed psychopath.
I've heard terrible stories about him, things he did in prison to fellow inmates.
So why'd you play poker with him?
He runs a good game. I gamble to supplement my income.
God knows, magic barely pays.
Why did you lose? You could have manipulated the cards.
Cheat? You're asking why I don't cheat at cards?
Well, you could, right?
Of course I could.
But how would I live with myself?
Who raised you?
Well, sir, what does any of this have to do with your twin brother
being found decapitated at the Santa Monica Pier?
I went to my brother for a loan. Just my luck, and his.
You found him dead of a heart attack.
His body was still warm.
Looking at him, lifeless, I saw myself,
my own eventual mortality.
I saw all the things I meant to accomplish but didn't.
It was an opportunity to vanish, become someone else.
Like I said, I'm not proud of what I did.
And so you refrigerated the body...
I needed time to figure out how to pull it all off.
Impersonating my brother, I called the bank, told them I needed a vacation week.
A trip to Mexico.
Then the bank received word that I'd been in a terrible accident.
It gave me plenty of time away from work.
And you posed as an amputee to allay suspicion that you weren't your brother.
That, and I rather enjoyed the sympathy, especially from the women in our office.
You, uh, still haven't explained why you left your brothers body at the pier,
or why you arranged to have his head fall off.
He explained it. He put it so eloquently when we last spoke.
It was my final performance.
I wanted to go out with such a shock, such a denouement,
as would for ever be remembered in the annals of magic.
- That was your last performance. - What's this for?
Well, I still think you got a few tricks up your sleeve.
My God.
We gave you handicapped parking. We built you a ramp.
- Did he have access to the vaults? - Yes, he has a key to the day gate.
- Several of us do. - What are you looking for?
Any hint at all as to why Maleeni here is really impersonating his brother.
What about this? Could he have removed funds electronically?
He didn't have security clearance for electronic fund transfers.
Maybe he got around it. Can we check the withdrawal records?
It would require your badge number and thumb print, and probably a subpoena.
We're extra cautious with the EFTs. You can understand why.
There may be an easier way. If I call up a transaction list for this terminal...
No. No, everything's in order.
It says here something about a robbery attempt yesterday.
That wasn't against us, but the armoured transport service we deal with.
No money was taken and no suspects were caught.
Mr Pinchbeck was the employee who signed out the truck.
He knew the schedule.
- I had nothing to do with that. - Maybe, maybe not.
We'll hold you till we find out, to make sure you don't pull a vanishing act.
Hey.
- Paul, I'm putting Mr Pinchbeck in six. - Right.
Sleep tight.
Wait, don't I get a phone call, sir? Sir?
- How'd it go? - Swimmingly.
Abracadabra, man.
Oh, damn!
Yes. OK.
- All right. All right, thank you. - Maleeni?
He's still in the city lockup where he's been since we arrested him.
It certainly doesn't look like he did this. Lots of fingerprints.
I guarantee you none of them match our thieves,
They're too clever to leave clues, except for the ones they want us to find.
Excuse me. May I show you something?
We thought the camera footage might show the robbers.
- Does it? - No.
They all mysteriously went blank from about 3 a.m. to 3.20.
- That's not what we wanted you to see. - This is from two days ago.
Cissy Alvarez. Convicted bank robber.
- You recognize this man? - Yeah. Who is he to you?
I know those tattoos. That's the man who tried to rob my truck.
What the hell, man? What did I do?
You, FBI, what's up with this?
You can't just bust in here! I got rights.
I'm gonna call my lawyer, then we'll see what's what.
- Nothing back there. - This is harassment. This is harassment!
What are they looking for? Come on, man! Somebody talk to me.
- Shut up. - No, you shut up!
Man, this ain't right. Why'd you put the cuffs on so tight?
Yo, will you please tell me what he's looking for?
Well... Saving up for a rainy day?
Oh, no, no. We got framed. This is a frame-up!
- It was the magician. - The magician? Maleeni?
No, not the dead one, man! That little cabron!
LaBonge! LaBonge set me up! Listen to me,,,
- Billy LaBonge. - And the Amazing Maleeni.
That's a double bill I wouldn't wanna miss.
Pinchbeck, you made your bail.
You too, LaBonge.
OK.
Releasing these two may be a bit premature.
Give us a minute, will you?
Good morning. Did you sleep well?
Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.
- Bravo. Really. - What do you mean?
Last night the Cradock Marine Bank was robbed of $1.8 million.
This morning that amount was found in the possession of Mr Cissy Alvarez.
Wow. I told you he was bad news. Bravo to you.
- That was expeditious police work. - Thank you. It was.
It's only that Alvarez was so obviously guilty.
A convicted bank robber witnessed trying to rob an armoured car two days earlier?
- He'll need a good lawyer. - Yeah.
He's up a creek. Just like you two want him.
I don't quite see where you're headed with this.
I have no evidence, but I have a theory, Mr Maleeni,
and I'll tell you how it goes:
Your twin brother, Albert, died of a heart attack,
at which point you and your protege saw an opportunity.
My protege? I hate this guy's guts.
That's what you wanted us to think.
You wanted revenge against the man who made your life in prison hell.
I did time with you about eight years ago.
Alvarez. You and he were on the same cell block eight years ago.
It was a setup. You played poker with him and made sure you lost big.
It gave LaBonge an in with Alvarez once everybody thought you were dead.
LaBonge planted Alvarez's marker in Maleeni's van so we'd find it.
You used Alvarez's greed in order to ensnare him
and then orchestrated the attempted bank robbery to implicate him.
That was you in the armoured car, disguised as Alvarez.
Mr Pinchbeck got ahold of the guard's gun and switched the clip.
Guard didn't know it, but he was firing blanks.
Then last night the two of you robbed the bank,
and planted the money at Alvarez's place.
Don't you think we have pretty good alibis?
You have the best alibis in the world,
which is why you two got arrested in the first place.
With your expertise at sleight-of-hand pickpocketing,
I think you were both able to get out of here by pilfering a guard's key.
You escaped, stole the money, framed Alvarez and came back for breakfast.
Scrambled eggs and sausage.
That would be the world's greatest trick, wouldn't it?
One that would be for ever remembered in the annals of magic.
- What happens to us? - To you?
You go free... provided the magic is over.
The great ones always know when to leave the stage.
Billy, let's get the hell outta here.
- They are the world's greatest. - We saw through their magic.
Nah, there's more.
Behold!
- The Amazing Maleeni's wallet. - You picked his pocket?
I pilfered it from the evidence room to prevent their final act of prestidigitation.
- What do you mean? - I began to wonder,
why did they need so elaborate a setup?
Why so high-profile? Why draw the attention of the FBI in the first place?
- We were the last piece of the puzzle. - Alvarez was a misdirection.
This trick was about EFTs, electronic funds transfers at the bank.
Maleeni, Pinchbeck, he didn't have security clearance,
so he needed federal law enforcement intervention -
specifically, my badge number...
and my thumb print.
With those two items, they could steal enough electronically
as to make that $1.8 million look like cigar-lighting money.
But they can't do it without this.
Pick a card, Scully. Any card.
There's still one thing that you haven't explained.
What's that?
How Maleeni was able to turn his head completely around.
- I don't know that. - I do. I'll show you.
Observe.
Gee! Very nice. How'd you do that?
Well... magic.
No, seriously, Scully, how'd you do it?
You know, it's not the same thing. It's different with the head.
Come on. Look at this.
I made this.