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.. Scénář - 41. epizoda - Zapal tento dům (Burning Down The House) ..

[Canadian wilderness]

Fraser [to Dief]: Go!

Man: What is wrong with you? Why don't you just leave this thing alone?

Fraser: It's not in my nature.

Man: Get your feet off the bottom.

Fraser: I don't think you want me to do that.

Man: Pick your feet up!

Fraser: As you wish. . . Ready?

Man: What?. . . Oh, no. . . No, no, no!

Fraser: Maybe the next time you'll think twice.

[battalion commander's office]

Commander: Let me just go over the details and see if I have them in order here. . . You were in pursuit of this individual for over six and a half days over roughly, oh, seventeen hundred kilometers of deep wilderness, in pursuit of an individual you suspected was guilty of . . . ?

Fraser: Littering, sir.

Commander: Ah. I was hoping I had read that incorrectly because, you see, in the course of the pursuit of this litterbug you effectively destroyed 3 river boats, 2 light aircraft, 4 ATV and 1 pontoon.

Fraser: The pontoon was purely accidental, sir.

Commander: As they so often are, aren't they? Tell me, Constable, was there something in the nature of this man's litter that would justify the destruction of over $733,000 worth of private property?

Fraser: Yes, sir. Volume.

Commander: Volume?

Fraser: And content.

Commander: What kind of volume and content are we talking about?

Fraser: Well, at first it seemed to be domestic - a village dumping ground. But there was a telltale odor, sir, one I'm sure that you would recognize. Something like chicken parts.

Commander: Farts?

Fraser: Parts. Closer inspection revealed it to be the banned chemical known as DES, or. . . They were bringing the drums in on cruise ships through the deep port at Skagway and then hauling them over the White Pass with the intent. . . The local inhabitants, in an expression of their deep appreciation of the RCMP, recommended that you, sir, be bestowed with the title of Honorary Tribal Elder.


Constable: Constable Fraser, there's a call for you from Chicago.

[telephone pole]

Fraser: Hello, Ray?

Ray: Hey, Benny, how's the vacation going?

Fraser: It's everything a Mountie could ask for, Ray. Lots of fresh air, plenty of exercise. How are things in Chicago?

Ray: Well, you know, Benny. Chicago's Chicago. Listen, I'm just calling to let you know that I may not be there at the train to pick you up.

Fraser: Well that's no hardship, Ray. I have legs. I can walk.

Ray: I know you have legs, Benny. That's not the point. I'm just calling to let you know that you may be on your own for a while.

Fraser: Is something wrong?

Ray: No. Why would anything be wrong? I'm just calling to let you know that I'd like to be there to pick you up but if I can't be there, it's not because I didn't want to be. It's because something came up.

Fraser: You're sure everything's all right?

Ray: Look, Benny, I don't know if they have a similar thing up there in

Canada, but down here in America we have this thing called friendship. And this is something that a friend would do. Like, for example, if one friend calls another friend and he's supposed to meet him at a certain time and a certain place and he can't be there, he usually calls him to let him know.

Fraser: So everything is all right then.

Ray: Yeah, Benny. Everything is all right.

Fraser: Well, that's good to hear, Ray.

Ray: It's good to hear your voice. . . Listen, uh, I want you to have a safe trip, and I will be in touch.

Fraser: All right, Ray.

Ray: You understand that, uh, I will be in touch.

Fraser: As a friend?

Ray: Yeah, Benny. As a friend.

[street near Fraser's apartment building]

[Dief whine]

Fraser: Oh, for God's sake, I think I provided ample explanation. Ray was otherwise engaged and taxi policy precludes the transportation of wolves. Come on. Aside from which, we're almost home. At the end of the alley, turn right, cross the street, climb the stairs, and we'll be as snug as bugs. . . in a fire.

Fraser Senior: It's not an easy thing to lose a home.

Fraser: No.

Fraser Senior: Your mother and I had a cabin north of Clyde River. Burned right to the ground. A kerosene error. My fault. Your mother and I slept in an igloo for 4 months while I rebuilt it. The longest time we spent together.

Fraser: I didn't know that.

Fraser Senior: Well you weren't born yet, son.

Fraser: Oh.

Fraser Senior: In fact, all that time spent in that igloo sort of started the ball rolling, conceptionally speaking. . . But I wouldn't let this get to you. Something good might come of it. It did for me. Fraser: You know, Dad, all the years you were alive, and now since you've been dead, you've never talked like this. You never told me. Fraser Senior: I didn't tell you about Dirt McGirt? Oh, yeah, I chased that rat for years. He walked right up to the igloo. Didn't think there was a Mountie inside. Easiest arrest I ever made. . . Buck up.

[station corridor - squad room]

[Dief whine]

Fraser: Dief, shhh. We'll surprise him. . . Ray!

Huey: What's the matter, Pops? Something died in your throat?

Old man: Not yet.

Fraser: Detective Huey, have you seen Detective Vecchio?

Huey: You mean Ray?

Fraser: Yes, Ray Vecchio the detective.

Huey: No. In the lunch room maybe?

Fraser: Ah. Thank you kindly. Before I forget, I brought you a little something from the Territories. Genuine beluga whalebone.

Huey: What is it?

Old man: It's a sextant.

Huey: What's a sextant?

Fraser: Well, it's a very handy little device. Let's say, for instance, you were tracking a suspect. You can use this to triangulate your location.

Old man: Sure, if you find yourself in a vast open territory with no distinguishing landmarks.

Huey: I can see how this can come in handy in Chicago, Fraser.

Fraser: I'm glad you like it.

[lunch room]

Fraser: Elaine!

Elaine: Fraser, how was your vacation?

Fraser: Oh, very relaxing. You haven't seen Detective Vecchio, have you?

Elaine: Ray Vecchio?

Fraser: Yes. The detective.

Elaine: Ah, no, no. I haven't. He's probably at his desk.

Fraser: Ah, well, allow me to give you this small gift from the Northwest Territories.

Elaine: Oh, gee, uh, I don't know what to say.

Fraser: No need to say anything. Just enjoy it.


Fraser: Ah, lieutenant.

Welsh: Constable. You've returned. Upon reflection, I imagine that pleases me.

Fraser: Well I hope so, sir. You haven't by any chance seen Detective

Vecchio, have you?

Welsh: Umm, listen, we got to talk -

Officer: Lieutenant, we've got a dust up in Interview 3, and there's a guy from the IRS that says he has to talk with you.

Welsh: IRS? All right, listen, Fraser, there's a couple of things I got to do, but we have to talk.

[squad room]

Fraser: Ah! Ray!

Ray: Fraser! Buddy! You have a good time up there in the Northwest Areas?

Fraser: Territories, you mean?

Ray: Wilderness, huh? Exactly. Me, personally, I leave the city I come down with a skin condition. Janey, you given any thought to Friday night? It would be a great first date. Crystal ballroom, the band, martinis, me. . .

Janey: My dog has a foot fungus and needs some attention.

Ray: Right. Is there a karmic chi love thing happening there or what?

Fraser: I'm sorry. There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding. I'm looking for Ray Vecchio.

Ray: Uh-huh?

Fraser: Raymond Vecchio. The detective.

Ray: You talked to Welsh, right?

Fraser: Yes, I did.

Ray: Good, so we're on the right track. I'm glad you're back, Fraser, 'cause things have not been the same around here.

Fraser: Obviously.

Ray: And you want to know why?

Fraser: As a matter of fact, yes, I do.

Ray: Take a look back through history and what do you see?

Fraser: Any particular period of history?

Ray: Nah, the whole shebang.

Huey: Fraser, you found him. Good.

Ray: What do you see, over and over, is this. Duets. Okay?

Jimmy: Hey, Ray, what's up?

Ray: Jimmy, you owe me a fin from last week! - Think about it. Lenon and

McCartney, Leopold and Loeb, The Three Stooges. Strictly speaking, they were a trio, but in my opinion they should have dropped Larry right from the start because you could see the guy he just was not committed to it. Anyway, I think you know what I'm talking about.

Fraser: No, I'm sorry, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about.

Ray: Partners, Fraser. Partners. . . Elaine, you got that stuff on the Docklands?

Fraser: Who are you?

Ray: Quit kidding around, Fraser. You know who I am.

Fraser: I assure you I am not kidding around.

Elaine: Here you go, Ray. Files 1 through 7, and the background on the Johnson case.

Fraser: I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I rarely forget a face and I am very confident that you and I have never met. Now, my name is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and for reasons that, well, they don't need exploring at this juncture, I have remained attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate, and over the course of my time here I have formed what you would call a duet with the person that I am currently looking for, one Raymond Vecchio, detective first grade, Chicago Police Department.

Ray: Raymond Vecchio, detective first grade, Chicago Police Department. Everyone here knows who I am, Fraser, how about you?

[phone rings]

Ray: Ray Vecchio. . . Yeah, like something off a Christmas tree?. . . [to Fraser] For you.

Voice: Listen, what a shame about your apartment building. Homeless, huh? What an ugly word. Well, you can always move in with your friend Vecchio.

Fraser: I'm not at all convinced that he is my friend, actually.

Voice: Oh, well, great. Then you probably won't sweat the fact that his electric blanket's getting the family home all nice and toasty. Fraser [to Ray]: I have no idea who you are, but if you insist on maintaining the charade of being Ray Vecchio, it may be of interest for you to know that I have reason to believe your house is about to burn down.


Ray: We'll take my car!

Fraser: Oh, please, don't tell me that your car is a 1971 green Buick Riviera.

Ray: Yep.

Fraser: Why not?. . . [to Dief] Let's just play along.


Fraser: I believe that was a stop sign.

Ray: My house could be burning down, and you're worried about a stop sign?

Fraser: There is no reason to compound the tragedy.

Ray: God! Stop it!

Fraser: Stop what?

Ray: What he's doing to me, the things he's doing to me!

Fraser: It could be a sign of affection. . .

Ray: Or what?

Fraser: Or a prelude to lunch.

Ray: He's doing disgusting things to my ear! Get him off me!

Fraser: He doesn't always listen to me. As you know, he's deaf.

Ray: I'll crash the car!

Fraser: He does read lips, so enunciate clearly.

Ray: Get off me exclamation mark!

Fraser: You missed our turn.

Ray: I did not miss our turn.

Fraser: Yes, I believe you did. You see, ordinarily you would turn at

Montclair, cut across the alley, cross Harlem, and then turn right on Octavia.

Ray: Yeah, yeah, ordinarily I would do that but ordinarily I do not have a deaf wolf trying to make intimate with me, Fraser. Besides, I'm trying to shake things up a little bit. Routine is the silent killer.

Fraser: I thought that was high blood pressure.

Ray: Nah, they changed that.

Fraser: When?

Ray: You were on vacation. . . Oh my God. . . [into radio] This is Unit 1-1-7. We got a Code 13 at 2926 North Octavia Avenue.

Fraser: Right. You take the back, I'll take the front.

Ray: Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is a fire. We wait for the fire department.

Fraser: Lives are at stake.

Ray: Look, pal, I don't risk my neck for anybody.

Fraser: Ray Vecchio would.


Tony: We're going to die in here!

Francesca: No we're not. Take this and cover your face.

Fraser: Come with me. . . This way. . . Stand aside.

Francesca: Oh, Fraser, Fraser, forget it.

Fraser: Trust me.

Francesca: You, I trust. It's the landing that I'm not so sure of. Fraser!. . Oh!. . . Watch where you're putting your hands, mister.

Tony: you know I'm carrying a little extra weight.

Fraser: Really? I'll push.

Tony: Whoa!

Francesca: Oh!

Fraser: Oooh.

Francesca: Get off me, you baboon!

Fraser Senior: It's hot. Is this my final posting?

Fraser: I wasn't aware you could feel heat.

Fraser Senior: I'm dead, I'm not insensitive. What are you going to do about the Yank?

Fraser: Well, would do you propose I do?

Fraser Senior: Collect forensic evidence to determine if he is who he claims to be.

Fraser: Of course he's not who he claims to be.

Fraser Senior: Well, there are those who would contradict you. You might be delusional.

Fraser: You know, you might be delusional.

Fraser Senior: Oh, that's another story.

Fraser: Well there you are.


Fireman: You there in the building. . . is there anyone else inside?

Fraser: Yes.

Fireman: Alive?

Fraser: They are. I'm bringing them out now.

Ray: I don't believe this.

Fraser: I know. It is remarkable, although carassius auratus can withstand fluctuations in temperature far greater than generally known.

Ray: You went into a burning building for fish?

Fraser: No, not exclusively. Dief, keep an eye on them.

Ray: That man just went into a burning building for fish.

Fireman: Well, sure. He took that extra step for red bubble-eye goldfish. . Kramer! Take the back!

Francesca: I'm shaking like a leaf. My heart's going 100 miles an hour. Fraser, feel my heart. Tell me it's not going 100 miles an hour.

Ray: Frannie, your heart's fine.

Fraser: Excuse me. Francesca, do you know this man?

Francesca: Yeah, of course I do. . . [to Ray] Doesn't he know?

Ray: He thinks he's a comedian. Hardy ha-ha-ha. So did you hear or see anything?

Francesca: Uh, okay, I had Linda Ronstadt on the tape deck, and I was in the middle of a facial peel, so no, and our brother-in-law here was in the middle of his usual.

Tony: My teeth. I had the water going. I was working on my molars, right?

Next thing I know, I got a mouth full of smoke.

Ray: Okay, but did you hear or see anything?

Fraser: We've already answered that.

Francesca: I said no.

Ray: Hey! What are you doing? I don't know where you come from, but I come from this little place called America where we got this big thing called electricity. Word of advice - your tongue, electricity - not a good mix.

Fraser: Huh.

Ray: Okay? Come on, let's rock and roll.

Francesca: Hey, Fraser, you know -

Fireman: Excuse me, folks.

Francesca: I mean, I know what you know, you know, and what everybody else knows, and all of that is known. Do you know what I'm saying?

Fraser: I have no idea what you're saying.


Ray: Come on, Fraser!

Fraser: Excuse me. . . Dief, let's. . .

[Dief whine]

Ray: Before I die of waiting?

Fraser: Come on.


Ray: You can burn down my place of employment, you can burn down my bowling alley, you can burn down my dance hall, sure, but my place of residence? I don't think so.

Fraser: Hold still.

Ray: What are you doing?

Fraser: It's not important. What is important is that we try to determine who might have had a motive for these fires.

Ray: You always think the obvious?

Fraser: I never thought about it. Although, you know, my Uncle Tiberius had a life-long fascination with cabbage and its northern possibilities. He once was -

Ray: Forget I asked.

Fraser Senior: Don't bring up Tiberius.

Fraser: Understood.

Fraser Senior: But that was good, though, measuring the Yank's. . .

Fraser: Thank you.

Ray: What for?

Fraser: For driving the car.

Ray: You're thanking me for driving the car?

Fraser Senior: Of course, one Yank is pretty much like another, anyway.

Fraser: People are not interchangeable, like snowmobile parts.

Ray: There you go with the obvious again.

Fraser: You're right about that. What I think we should do is go back through our past histories, realizing of course that's not something you are equipped to do -

Ray: What do you mean, I'm not equipped to do? I can do that. What about the Bolt brothers?

Fraser: The Bolt brothers were not arsonists. They were demented terrorists

whose MO involved impromptu thermonuclear devices.

Ray: Right, right, I'm thinking, uh -

Fraser: Other demented terrorists whose MO included impromptu thermonuclear devices?

Ray: No, wise guy.

Fraser Senior: He's confused.

Ray: Geiger.

Fraser: Geiger was an escaped convict sworn to vengeance on a legendary Mountie who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Canadian actor and comedian, Leslie Nielsen.

Fraser Senior: Who has yet to receive the Order of Canada.

Fraser: Long overdue.

Ray: Morgan.

Fraser: Bank robbery.

Ray: Herb Colling.

Fraser: Aging vigilante.

Ray: Bodine.

Fraser: Gun smuggler. Although it is interesting his partner wore a very heavy perfume, the base property I believe to be a combination of camphor and rose.

Ray: What's the connection?

Fraser: Dief, let's go. The connection?

Ray: Yeah, connection.

Fraser: To Bodine, none, other than the perfume. However, I did detect the odor of ambergris, a base common to many perfumes, in the electrical socket outside the Vecchio house, and the same odor was present in the rubble of my apartment building.

Ray: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're telling me your apartment building was burned down as well?

Fraser: Yes. In all the excitement, I neglected to mention it.

Ray: Neglected to mention it!

Fraser: Well, the point is the same odor was present, and I retrieved this from the rubble.

Ray: Oh, great. So all we got to do is go around Chicago sticking our noses in people's pits to find somebody with the same smell.

Fraser: Well that's one approach, I suppose.

Ray: Elaine, did you give any thought to Friday? It would be a great first date, crystal ballroom, the band, martinis, moi.

Elaine: No.

Ray: Wait a minute. The perfume is the starter, the trigger - what the hell is the name of that stuff that gets the fire going?

Fraser: The accelerant.

Ray: The accelerant. Don't say anything. . . Two and a half years ago we nailed a painter named Zoltan Motherwell. At face value, it looked like he was torching his lofts to cash in on the insurance money, right?

Fraser: Yes, but the trail widened and it revealed itself to be a pattern.

Ray: Right. He was burning down his studios, workshops - the guy was on a psycho mission against art.

Fraser: Yes, and in each case the accelerant was. . . ?

Ray: Perfume.

Fraser: Give me five, Detective.

Ray: Fraser, you got ink all over my fingers.

Fraser: Terribly sorry.

Ray: What was that all about?

Fraser: Ah, it's just a little thing we do.

Ray: A little thing we do, huh?

Fraser: Yeah, one of our little things.

Ray: We have a lot of fun, don't we, you and I?

Fraser: More fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Fraser Senior: Very smooth, son.

Fraser: Thank you.

Ray: Don't thank me yet. Zoltan Motherwell is in the Evanston Institution for the Criminally Insane.

Fraser: A dead-end.

Ray: Maybe. Maybe not. I got a hunch.

Fraser: You have hunches?

Ray: Well, that's pretty much all I ever have. You know that, Fraser.

Fraser Senior: What about his teeth?

Fraser: Oh, I'm working on that.

Ray: Let's go. . . You're working on what?

Fraser: What?

[Evanston Institution]

Ray: Okay, this is how we're going to play this mook. You do the legwork, I'll hang in the background.

Fraser: You prefer not to be seen.

Ray: I'll be seen when I need to be seen.

Fraser: I see.

Ray: I see, what does that mean?

Fraser: Nothing.

Ray: So, when somebody says, 'I see,' it means something. . . What?

Fraser: It only takes an extra second to be courteous. . . After you.

Ray: After you.

Fraser: Ah, thank you kindly.

Ray: You're welcome.

[Institute corridor]

Ray: What do you mean?

Fraser: Well, what I mean is that civility is a quality often overlooked -

Ray: No, not that. When you said, 'I see.' What did you mean by that?

Fraser: Well, Ray Vecchio arrested Zoltan Motherwell. Now, if you are Ray Vecchio, he'll recognize you. If you are not, he won't.

Ray: You know something? You're a Doubting Thomas. . . [to guard] You got those files I ordered?

Guard: Yeah, here you go.

Ray: You see? We're like a one-two punch. A duet. You set 'em up, I knock 'em down. You set 'em up, I knock 'em down.


Motherwell: I have no regrets, Constable. I now live a life of simplicity and purpose. I couldn't live like this before when I was a slave. Do you understand me?

Fraser: No, I'm afraid I don't. You were a slave to. . . ?

Motherwell: Everything. To everything. Canvas, paint, dealers, galleries, fashion, falsehood. A slave, until. . . Come here. . . Closer. . . Closer.

Fraser: I think this is close enough.

Motherwell: Until I realized it could be reduced to ashes. Wiped clean.

Fraser: Ah. I understand.

Ray: You understand. I don't believe this.

Motherwell: Who is he?

Fraser: This is a detective, apparently. My problem, Mr. Motherwell, is that it would appear that someone is continuing your efforts on a far more personal level. My apartment building has been burned down, leaving all of its tenants homeless.

Motherwell: Oh, that's tragic. But that's the nature of artistic movements. I was merely the first great performance arsonist. Of course there'll be followers, imitators, possibly a school -

Ray: All right, okay, I've had enough of this. You see, my friend here, he's

Canadian. He's polite. He'll let you ramble on about his namby-pamby art crap. But me? I don't know what art is. But I know what I like, and you, dirtball, I don't like.

Motherwell: Who are you?

Ray: Hey, shut your trap! You look into my eyes! You look deep into my eyes! What do you see? You see the guy? Do you see the guy? The guy that put you in here?! Right?! Right?! Right?! Right?! Good!. . . Let's talk about his copycat torch that's walking the streets that's got your signature, which means you know the torch.

Motherwell: How could I possibly have anything to do with this, Detective? I'm incarcerated.

Ray: Okay, I got a phone log here. Three phone calls made by you. Two by payphone. One to 555-0188. That's a district of the Chicago Police Department. My district, my department, my phone. In fact, I picked up the phone, concerning my house.

Motherwell: Possibly.

Ray: Possibly. Visitors Log. One visitor, marked 'girlfriend' with no name. Now you cough up a name or it is all aboard for fun time, and I will kick your head all over this room!

Motherwell: I think I need to see my attorney.

Ray: Sure, you'll get to see your attorney, right after I break your jaw!

Motherwell: Is he going to hit me?

Fraser: I think it's probably just a posture.

Ray: No, I'm going to break your jaw. But first, let's talk about your girlfriend.

Motherwell: I have nothing to say.

Ray: Gentlemen! Five!

Motherwell: It's ridiculous!

Ray: Four.

Motherwell: He's going to hit me!

Ray: Three.

Fraser: I'm sure it's a posture.

Ray: Two.

Fraser: I could be wrong.

Ray: One.

Motherwell: No, wait, wait, wait. All right. What do you want to know?

Ray: How about a name?

Motherwell: Greta Garbo.

Ray: A real name!

Motherwell: Greta Garbo! It's a real name. She has a thing, an obsession, with privacy. She changed it legally.

Ray: Whereabouts?

Motherwell: The last time I talked with her, she lived on Shuter Street, 271.

Fraser: Thank you kindly.

Motherwell: Glad to help.

Fraser: That was just a posture, wasn't it?

Ray: Yeah, sure. . . What's a posture?

[Garbo's apartment]

Landlord: Here you go.

[Dief whine]

Fraser: Ray, I found her supply.

Ray: We might be too late. I think she is planning to switch countries. 'How to Become a Canadian in Ten Easy Steps.'

Fraser: The Consulate.

Ray: Step 1: Get a big hat. Step 2: Lick electrical sockets. Step 3. . .


Fraser [on phone]: Constable Turnbull. . .

Turnbull: Why, that's correct, sir. I am a constable. And you've reached the Canadian Consulate. My name is Turnbull. . .

Fraser [to Ray]: Where are you going?

Ray: The Consulate.

Fraser: The old Consulate?

Ray: There's a new Consulate?

Turnbull: . . . attached to the Consulate as an assistant liaison officer...

Fraser: As of this week. It's something Ray Vecchio would know.

Ray: I knew that.

Fraser [to Turnbull]: Yes, I know who you are, Constable. . . [to Ray] It's right.

Turnbull: If you know who I am, Mr. Wright, I fail to see why you're asking me who I am. I would have thought you -

Fraser: Just put Inspector Thatcher on the line.

Turnbull: I'm sorry, but. . .

[Fraser's reception breaks up]

Fraser: Turnbull? Turnbull?. . . [ends call] That man is. . . We'd better hurry.

Turnbull: Hello?


Turnbull: Ah, Constable Fraser, you have impeccable timing.

Fraser [to Dief]: Go!

Turnbull: I would appreciate your opinion. Do you think Her Majesty would be happy here?

Fraser: Very happy, yes. Turnbull, have there been any visitors in the office today? Any couriers, any deliveries?

Turnbull: It's been very quiet today, sir, with the exception of the builders and movers and a peculiar conversation with a man named Wright.

Fraser: That was me, Turnbull.

Turnbull: Ahh. Deliberately misidentifying yourself. Very cunning, sir.

Ray: Is this guy for real?

Fraser: Very much so, yes.

Turnbull: I wouldn't go in there, sir. The Inspector is in a high-level meeting with a man from Scandinavia.

Fraser: Would you mind telling me what brand of perfume you're wearing, sir?

Sven: Will he bite?

Fraser: Only if provoked.

Thatcher: Fraser, what are you doing?

Fraser: You perfume, if you wouldn't mind?

Thatcher [to Ray]: Who are you?

Sven: My perfume?

Ray [to Thatcher]: Ray. Vecchio.

Fraser: If you would be so kind.

Thatcher: Oh. Of course you are, Detective.

Sven: Eau de Pomme.

Fraser: Ah. Dief. I'm so terribly sorry, sir. There's been a horrifying mistake.

Thatcher: That would be one way of putting it, Fraser. Let me introduce you to Sven, my interior designer. Sven, this is Constable Fraser, with whom I would like to have a word in private. So if you and Detective Vecchio wouldn't mind. . .?

Fraser: I imagine, sir, that you would like something resembling an explanation.

Thatcher: That would be a good idea, Fraser, because at this particular moment, I can assume only one of two things. Either you are mentally unhinged or you object on principal to interior designers.

Fraser: No, sir, I only objected to his smell.

Thatcher: Sven's smell?

Fraser: Yes, sir. Sven's smell. You see, the base property of his cologne is identical to the base property of a perfume that was used as an accelerant in two fires, one at my apartment building and one at the Vecchio house, and I had reason to believe that the Consulate was the arsonist's next target.

Thatcher: Arsonist?

Fraser: Yes, sir. It would appear that I am being stalked by a performance arsonist.

Thatcher: Okay. That would qualify as an explanation.


Turnbull: Oh, sure, people snigger. What use is the monarchy, they say. And right then and there I know they've never experienced the horse guard on parade.

Ray: Here they come.

Turnbull: Who?

Ray: The fire department.

Turnbull: Fire!

Ray [to Fraser]: The torch! She's here!

Fraser: May I, uh. . .?

Thatcher: Yes.

Fraser: Thank you. . . Do you mind if I. . .?

Thatcher: Good luck.

Fraser: May I just say, sir, and I'm by no means an expert, but that muted green with the flecks of gold - I think it would be a wonderful complement to the woodwork, the walls, and your eyes.


Ray: I don't believe this. She's followed us every step of the way. Up the street from my house, at the mental institution, and now here.

Fraser: Sandwich?

Ray: We're chasing a torch and you're thinking about food?

Fraser: Well, we have to keep our strength up. Here, bite down. . . Oh! Wrong sandwich.

Ray: What was that?

Fraser: Window putty.

Ray: What else you got? You got any pastrami?

Fraser: No, I'm sorry. She's headed for the freeway.

Ray: Look, I'm not blind. I can see. Okay, so now we are following you. You been watching your handiwork but now we are behind you. You got any roast beef?

Fraser: No, I'm afraid not, and you know I really don't want to be a party-pooper, but if she's been following us to witness her handiwork, she can in theory still do that.

Ray: How? We are following her in a car.

Fraser: Well, exactly. All she has to do is look in her rearview mirror and watch us burst into flames.

Ray: Burst into flames. . .

Fraser: Stay with the van. Don't lose her.

Ray: What do you mean, don't lose her? We can go up at any time. . . Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?

Fraser: I'm trying to locate the igniter.

Ray: Well how about we stop the car and locate the igniter?

Fraser: She is a criminal. Stay the course.

Ray: Look, you know something, you're a freak. But in spite of that, I'm going to tell you something. This may not be the best time but I'd like to say it before we go up in smoke. I feel a little pink about it 'cause I realize no one talked to you. Number one, I'm not the guy that you think. Number two, the guy you think I am. . . [horns honk]. . . Number three, you know, this was not my ambition to be, you know, driving in a molotov cocktail with a Mountie on the roof and a deaf wolf staring at me like I was an appetizer. It just was not part of a normal desire. Not for me, anyway. I had other things in mind - Fraser! Fra-! They said he was agile - he's not agile. He fell off the car. . . Hey! Hey, are you with me?

Fraser: You bet.

Ray: Okay. Good. Well, the upshot is I go in and they say, hey, you want a job and I go. . . I was weak, I was down. I say, well I'll think about it. And I'm thinking about it. Hey, my life's not great at the moment. I think maybe I can use a change, a change of scene, a change of luck, go undercover, get a new life. Then they say, do you want to work with this guy -

Fraser: She's taking the exit!

Ray: Okay, simple problem. . . That's about it. I mean, I could say more, but that is how I got here. So what do you think?

Fraser: Nothing.

Ray: Nothing? I spill my guts and 'nothing'?

Fraser: What are you talking about?

Ray: What I was just saying, you didn't hear any of it?

Fraser: Well, no, with the wind and speed, I'm sorry. Also, I was unable to locate the - What is she doing?

Ray: She's slowing down.


Fraser: No!

Ray: Okay, I guess we located the igniter.

Fraser: It would appear so.

Ray: Okay, this is where I get out.

Fraser: You cannot do that.

Ray: Yes we can, Fraser. Our work is done here.

Fraser: Stay in the car.

Ray: Look - Fraser, what are you doing? Do not touch my inner thigh or calf!

Fraser: Get your foot off the brake.

Ray: I'm trying to stop!

Fraser: You cannot stop the car.

Ray: Not with you holding onto my leg, I can't.

Fraser: Wait. It is too dangerous. This is a public thoroughfare. Pedestrians may be afoot.

Ray: Look, I do not risk my neck for anybody. . . Look, the car's going to blow.

Fraser: It is not. It is very, very, very rare that a car ever actually explodes. . . Mental note: Equip your vehicle with a fire extinguisher.

Ray: I am all over that.

Fraser: We've got to find a safe place to deposit this car.

Ray: A parking lot?

Fraser: No, it's too crowded.

Ray: How about a park?

Fraser: There might be children present, family pets. . . Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Ray: What?!

Fraser: Stop light.

Ray: You have got to be kidding me.

Fraser: No. I'm afraid not. This is serious business. Traffic fatalities account for the loss of 41,786 American lives every year.

Ray: Ahhh!. . . Got it.

Fraser: Good thinking.

Ray: What is this, some kind of superfire?

Fraser: No, you shouldn't have pressed the hot wax option.

Ray: Now what?

Fraser: The lake they call Michigan.

Ray: Lake Michigan.

Fraser: Yes, the lake they call Michigan.

Ray: Lake Michigan.

Fraser: All right.

Ray: Straight in?

Fraser: Straight in.

Ray: Listen, in case something happens, I just want you to know, it's been a pleasure meeting you.

Fraser: Ah, so you admit we've never met.

Ray: I'm not admitting anything.

Fraser Senior: Give him some ground, son.

Fraser: Why?

Ray: 'Cause there's nothing to admit.

Fraser Senior: He's not bad for a Yank.

Fraser: Are you sure?

Ray: Yeah, I'm sure.

Fraser Senior: We're getting closer.

Fraser: I can see that.

Fraser Senior: I'll say goodbye now.

Fraser: I'll speak to you later.

Ray: You bet you will, and I mean it. It's been weird, but it's been a pleasure.

Fraser: Likewise. Let's lock our load.

Ray: It's lock and load.

Fraser: Lock and load. I'm sorry.


Fraser: Ray?

Garbo: He's a fine painter.

Fraser: Lower the gun, Miss Garbo.

Garbo: A great artist.

Ray: Like the man said, put the gun down.

Garbo: And I'm carrying on his work.

Ray: I said, put the gun down.


Fraser: Ray. Ray! Ray!

Ray: Ta-dah!

Fraser: A vest.

Ray: You called me Ray.

Fraser: No I didn't.

Ray: Yeah you did.

Fraser: No I didn't.

Ray: Yeah you did.

Fraser: It was a mistake. Come on.

Ray: You know I'm Ray. Don't fight it, Benton buddy.

Fraser: You are not Ray. You don't even look like him.

Ray: I could have had plastic surgery.

Fraser: You could also be unhinged.

Ray: I got papers to prove it. I'll show you.

Fraser: I don't want to see them.

Ray: I'm Ray.

Fraser: If you're Ray, where were you born?

Ray: Ah, that smarts when you get shot.

Fraser: Ah. You see? See?

[Welsh's office]

Fraser: Lieutenant, if I could have just one moment of your time, I promise I'll be out of your hair before you can say Jimmy Crack Corn.

Welsh: Rudolph, would you please. . .?

Fraser: Sir, I will confess at first I was a little worried that maybe I had a hole in my bag of marbles, so I did an impromptu investigation. I would like to present in evidence. . . These are the registered fingerprints and these are the fingerprints of the man in question. They do not match. This is an official dental record, and this is a cast I made of the suspect's teeth. And they do not match. The shoe size is also inconsistent, and finally, as you can see, the suspect's nose is fully 7 millimeters smaller than Ray Vecchio's. In conclusion, this man is not Raymond Vecchio.

Welsh: Constable, you have an uncanny power of observation.

Fraser: Thank you.

Welsh: Of course he's not Ray Vecchio. I've been trying to get to you to talk to you about this. There's an operation going on. This operation comes from way up the ladder. Details are kinda sketchy, but all we need to know is Ray Vecchio has gone deep under cover with the mob. Now, to protect his identity, we have to make believe that this guy is Ray Vecchio.

Fraser: I see. . . Lieutenant, have you by any chance heard from Ray?

Welsh: Oh, no, no, and I don't expect to, either.

Fraser: I understand.

Welsh: Listen, Constable, I want you to give this guy a fair shot. He's a real good cop. And on your way out, sent in my accountant.

Fraser: Understood.

Welsh: Thank you.

[squad room]

Ray: This turned up on my desk. It's for you. . . What do you make of it?

Fraser: It's a message.

Ray: Something I should worry about?

Fraser: No, no. No, everything's all right. Everything is actually fine.

Ray: Okay. Well. . .

Fraser: Hey, Ray. . . Would you like to go and get something to eat with me?

Ray: Yeah. . . I just got to, uh, I'll put away these files and meet you at the car.

Fraser: All right. Good.

Fraser Senior: Would you like my opinion?

Fraser: Do I have any choice?

Fraser Senior: He's a good man.

Fraser: I think you're right.

Fraser Senior: We have to find somewhere to live.

Fraser: What do you mean 'we'?

Fraser Senior: That's a cruel joke, son. I've been thinking about an office. I think I need an office.

Fraser: What the hell would you do with an office?

Fraser Senior: Office work, memoirs, catch up on my taxes. . .

Fraser: Taxes! You've been dead for two years.

Fraser Senior: Oh, they find you, son. They find you. . .



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