Dragnet Page #5

my end of the investigation.

As far as your personal safety

is concerned, I wouldn't worry.

That guy's probably

sanitationally-questionable commune...

his apartment building in the "come

as you are" section of Venice Beach.

The door was opened

by Police Officer Betsy Blees...

who had dropped by to chat about more

effective methods of law enforcement.

They'd been playing a version

of good-cop, bad-cop.

Though I was unable to fathom the rules,

it seemed Streebek had lost this round.

Playtime was over...

and it was back to routine duty

for me and Pep Streebek.

Joe, I suddenly got very hungry.

Let's grab some sushi.

We're late for our watch already,

and raw tuna isn't my bag.

My hat was in that car.

- I can tell who reblocked it for you.

- Pagans.

I need coffee.

I know where they serve

the best in town. Come on.

Ma'am.

I hate to admit it, but for once in your

life you're right. This is good coffee.

You should try the French toast.

Joe, lend me 20 bucks.

Do I know you long enough

to lend you money? I don't think so.

We've been ordered off the Pagans...

but that doesn't mean we can't follow up

on one of their thefts.

The trichlornitromethane and

the pseudo-halogenic compound cyanogen.

There's one illegal lab in the city with

the capacity, personnel and equipment...

to mix those two chemicals

into a deadly gas.

Narcotics has been waiting for months to

bust this place. We can do it tonight.

Forget it.

It's out of our jurisdiction now.

But this won't be a Pagan investigation.

We can bring Narc in on it.

Police work is a matter of us

against them, not "Mother, may I?"

Hi, Kay. How are you? I could find out

where they set up the lab this week.

- Oh? How?

- By you lending me 20 bucks.

the gratuitous sex display...

at Streebek's favourite coffeehouse

and an outlay of $50 by me...

to one of his old informants,

I proceeded by Celebrity Cab...

to 3396834108th Street...

an illegal drug lab disguised

as a legitimate place of business.

Streebek had gone to seek assistance

from friends...

in the undercover narcotics unit

where he used to work.

It didn't surprise me

that he was late...

even though he knew I was waiting

in a part of town...

where it's not advisable

to stand around whistling.

Hey, zipper-head!

Up late tonight, kids?

Let's have one of your smokes.

It's an unhealthy habit

I don't encourage in others.

Get smart.

Give it up by not taking it up.

Thanks for

the public service announcement.

Hand over your money,

and I'll go buy my own smokes.

If you're that strapped for cash,

I'd suggest a part-time job.

How 'bout a paper route?

It builds character.

It did in my case.

Hey, we're not askin' you

for your money, Ozzie.

- No?

- No.

- Are you threatening me, son?

- Ooh!

And on a school night, too.

Hit the deck!

I can't quite place it.

It tastes like...

Milk.

Just like the sign said on the building

before you obliterated it.

Fresh, wholesome milk.

You probably love this stuff,

don't you?

Vitamin D, calcium...

essential for good strong bones

and healthy teeth.

But that's probably all Greek to you,

isn't it, Mr Gingivitis?

After explaining to the milk factory

they could not take legal action...

since we had properly obtained

a search warrant...

our apology was

reluctantly accepted...

and Streebek and I were on

our way back to Parker Center.

After losing two previous vehicles

we had been issued...

the only car the department would

release to us at this point...

was an unmarked 1987 Yugo...

a Yugoslavian import donated

as a test vehicle by that country...

and reflecting the cutting edge

of Serbo-Croatian technology.

I've been thinking.

Maybe your informant was right.

Maybe the Pagans anticipated our raid...

and mixed those chemicals

into a deadly gas before we got there.

Nuh-huh.

- Friday?

- That's me.

What do you like to do for fun?

I'm your partner, and

I don't even know where you live.

That's right, mister, you don't.

Streebek, why are you always looking

at your watch?

I'm watching my TV.

You don't like my music, you don't want

to talk, so I'm watching my TV.

We're at the Law and Order

Foundation dinner...

where Los Angeles mayor, Peter Parvin,

is fighting for his political survival.

Leading that attack again is

Police Commissioner Jane Kirkpatrick.

Let's hear what she has to say.

This rampaging gang of Pagans has made

a mockery of city administration.

Vehicles from the fire and police

departments are stolen in daylight.

Deadly toxic chemicals are on the loose.

What next, Mr Mayor?

In my opinion...

Mayor Parvin should consider

the welfare of his constituents...

and do the honourable thing:

Resign now.

You know, I think you and the

commissioner would make a cute couple.

You both keep your jaws locked.

Plus you two share

that curious affection for hats.

May I remind you that

Commissioner Kirkpatrick...

threatened to turn me

into a civilian?

Yeah, I know.

There was a gleam in her eye, though.

Put a clamp on it!

I have never been elected

to public office.

I have always sought the approval

of a somewhat higher power...

for my actions.

The sad truth...

is that we live here now

in a city...

where even a gross pornographer

like Jerry Caesar...

is not immune from lawlessness!

With this grim fact in mind...

I am relieved to announce tonight...

that even Mr Caesar himself

has bravely decided...

to strike a blow in our common fight

against crime!

Yes, sir! Yes, indeed!

This guy knows God personally.

I hear they play racquetball together.

Just chuckle away.

I don't hear God laughing.

You will once He sees your haircut.

My friends, in an unprecedented

gesture of atonement...

Mr Caesar has agreed

to donate the sum...

of $1 million

to my Moral Advance Movement.

After witnessing the raging political

turmoil on Streebek's puny TV...

I was really looking forward

to the end of a rotten day.

- Well, want to get something to eat?

- Not tonight. I have plans.

You do? What? What?

Where do you go? What is her name?

Does she have a sister?

Good night, Streebek.

Truth is, I don't care where you go.

Yeah, I do.

I gotta know.

I knew it.

It's Nightmare on Elm Street.

That would make him Freddie Krueger.

We're gonna be driving along some night

and the lighting's gonna be bad.

He's gonna mistake me for some

pretty coed, and out comes that claw.

Who knows what kind of thrill-seeking

hose monster he's got stashed in there?

My God, he's dating Mother Goose!

Hey, Joe!

Streebek, what are you doing here?

- Who is this nice-Iooking young man?

- He's nobody.

My partner.

Streebek, introduce yourself

to my grandmother, quickly.

Well, what a pleasant surprise.

Granny Friday.

She's my maternal grandmother.

Her name is Mundy.

Why don't we discuss this over dinner?

It's my birthday.

We're going to the Brown Derby.

Do join us, Detective Swayback.

- Streebek.

- Pep.

I don't think it's a good idea.

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