Family Plot Page #5

- You'll never change, will you?

- You got no cause to complain.

- When you needed me, I was

always there, wasrt I?

- Look, put that thing away.

And listen to me.

I want you to go back

to Barlow Creek.

Do nothing, say nothing.

Let me look into this matter

in my own, quiet way.

And if I need you for anything,

I'll contact you.

Okay?

You're the boss, Arthur.

Isn't it touching how...

a perfect murder...

has kept our friendship

alive all these years?

You better believe it.

-

- I'm sorry to disturb you,

Mr. Adamson.

There are two gentlemen

here to see you,

from the police department.

Tell them I'll be right out.

Jesus Christ, Eddie!

Wait here.

Arthur Adamson. What can

I do for you gentlemen?

Sorry to bother you.

Andy Bush, Bureau

of Inspectors, and this

is Lieutenant Peterson.

Hi.

My pleasure.

No doubt you've been

reading, or hearing, about

the Constantine kidnapping.

Well, I have

a confession to make,

Inspector.

When I heard of

the size of that stone,

my mouth watered.

Professionally speaking,

of course.

Well, just so you don't

feel discriminated against,

Mr. Adamson,

we're routinely covering

every gem dealer and

jewelry store in the city.

Well, I'm flattered.

Have you, by any chance,

noticed anything out of

the ordinary, Mr. Adamson?

Any unusual movement of large...

or small... stones into the

markets these last few days?

Absolutely not.

I see.

I take it that you're

going on the assumption...

that this, uh,

"ransom stone" has been

cut up into smaller gems?

That's correct,

sir.

It makes a lot of sense.

We think so.

If I may presume

to make a suggestion,

it seems to me you ought

to be covering the antique

and secondhand jewelry markets.

They buy from anyone, whereas

we jewelers buy exclusively

on the wholesale exchanges.

That's already being done,

Mr. Adamson.

Oh!

I think

we've taken up enough

of Mr. Adamsors time.

Well, I'm sorry

I haven't been able to be

of more help to you.

However, if I do hear

of any unusual transactions

in the marketplace,

I'll be sure

and contact you.

Yes, we'd appreciate that.

Much obliged.

Take care.

Good-bye, sir.

Good day.

And good luck!

Mrs. Clay, close up as

soon as you wish. I have

some work to do in here.

I'll let myself out

the back way.

Good night.

Good night.

Your friend, Blanche Tyler,

is a spiritualist.

A spiritualist?

That's what it says

on her shingle. Also,

there's no one home.

A spirit is never at home.

Get in.

What do you think

we should do?

We'll wait. We still don't

know who the man is yet.

Must you?

Mm-hmm.

That must be her.

That must be

the fellow with the pipe

who called on Maloney.

A cab driver.

Lumley. Lumley,

what's this?

Where are ya goir?

I'm going home to my own bed

where I can get some sleep.

No, you're not.

Blanche, is that all you've

ever got on your mind?

What are you saving it for,

a rainy day?

Honey, you never know

when you're gonna need it.

You're not

being friendly, Lumley.

Blanche, I'm

too pooped to pop.

I'd be useless to you.

You're always useless to me!

You're always pooping out

when I need you!

... we can collect a huge sum of

money,:
You call that useless?

You know what I'm talking about.

Come on inside and

stop being difficult.

Not tonight, Josephine.

I'm outta here.

You're a fink!

If I'm a fink, you're

an ungrateful b*tch.

What about tomorrow?

What about it?

You've got important work to do.

I want you to be sure

about Eddie Shoe...

-

- Talk to him!

How many times are you

going to tell me that?

How many times am I gonna

have to tell you that tomorrow

I have to work in my cab?

So it'll wait

till Sunday.

You better give me

a quick synopsis.

I'm confused.

Simple. A cab driver

is shacked up...

with a sex-starved medium

named Blanche Tyler.

Don't ask me why,

but apparently

they're on the trail...

of some spook

named Eddie Shoebridge.

Fortunately, not on

the trail of your favorite

kidnapper and mine.

How can you be so sure?

You did hear him talk

about collecting

a huge hunk of money.

Couldrt that be the reward

that's on our heads?

You got yourself a point

there, Francs, old girl.

Only time will tell

whether it's any good.

One thing's certain.

We're not going to change

our game plan. Not now.

Buy me a drink, Arthur.

A shiny car.

A... limousine?

Why does he drive

so fast, Henry?

What's that?

On the seat beside him?

I hear the sound of a baby

crying. Quick, Henry,

before he disappears.

Ask... Yes, I know.

I... see him now.

The uniform.

A chauffeur.

What?

Henry, I need words.

Who?

The what?

The Rainbird chauffeur?

Good heavens.

Old Michael O'Keefe,

our chauffeur.

Where is Michael going?

Henry, ask him where

he's taking Harriet's baby.

Oh, more pictures

are coming in too fast.

I can hardly

make them out.

Henry, a graveyard,

a headstone?

I don't like this,

Henry.

A shoe. Bridge.

A shoe bridge?

Oh, don't do this

to me, Henry.

Speak to the chauffeur.

Oh, God,

something's burning.

The house.

Quick, Henry.

The house is on fire.

Take me away from here.

I don't want to see this.

I can't bear the sound

of their awful screaming.

Go back to the chauffeur, Henry.

Get Michael into our presence.

Miss Rainbird remembers him.

Yes, I remember.

Madame Blanche,

listen to me.

Can you hear me?

I've remembered something else

that could be

terribly important.

Wait one minute, Henry.

Before you go,

Miss Rainbird deserves

some kind of assurance

about Harriet's child.

He's a man by now,

and we have to know,

is he happy, Henry?

Is he alive and well

and happy?

If you can't,

you can't.

I certainly

can't force you.

Yes. Of course

she'll understand.

Until next time, then.

Good-bye.

Good-bye, my love.

- What happened?

- Don't you remember?

- Not a blessed thing.

- Oh, it doesn't matter now.

Listen, listen,

Madame Blanche.

Your Henry jogged

my memory of something

I'd completely forgotten.

When our poor old chauffeur,

Mike, realized he was dying,

he wrote to me and said

there was one person on earth...

who had promised that

he'd make it his business...

to know where Harriet's son was

as long as he lived.

It was the parson

who baptized the newborn baby.

And there's an additional thing

I can tell you.

Don't tell me.

Let me guess.

Five hundred.

Not a penny. Not even

a hundred for expenses.

It's all or nothing,

George,

until I can produce his name

and his present address.

Jesus, Blanche.

However, she gave me

a marvelous clue.

Here we go again.

No, here you go again...

to the man who might tell you

if Shoebridge is dead or alive.

Who's that?

Bishop Wood

at St. Anselm's Cathedral.

Holy Christ, Blanche.

No, George, not him.

Bishop Wood

at St. Anselm's Cathedral.

He was a parson once

and he baptized

the Shoebridge baby.

Excuse me.

Sorry.

Do you know how

I could, uh, make a date

to see Bishop Wood?

If you want to make the

appointment today, you'll have

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