Fletch Lives Page #3

Ben?

If I don't hear from you on Valentine's

Day, I'll be very disappointed.

Mr. Johnson, I'm surprised

to see you here.

Judge Watkins usually assigns

these small potatoes to Billy Ray.

Well, he's on vacation. This is the price

I pay for the proximity of my office.

Excuse me. Sir?

You don't have a card,

do you? Or a price list?

Well, matter of fact,

I do.

I'm Hamilton Johnson.

I'm an attorney at law.

You take other cases or you just

specialize in transvestite necrophiliacs?

Not enough evidence

to hold you.

Just a petty form of intimidation putting

you in a cell with that Neanderthal.

She wasn't so bad. If she'd just

fix up her hair and shave her back.

It's so embarrassin', this sort of

thing still goes on in the New South.

'Course, 20 years ago a Yankee like

you could've been lyin' in the ditch.

I'm assumin', of course,

that you had nothin' whatsoever

to do with the death of Amanda Ray.

Sure hope not.

Hop in.

I was shocked

to hear about this.

She was such

a dear friend.

So tragic...

when this happens to

somebody so young and healthy.

Was she feelin' all right last

night? She felt great to me.

Just smell that soft

Southern air.

It's so sad to see this

beautiful pastoral countryside...

blighted by the greed of a few men

in pursuit of the almighty dollar.

That's my place

over there.

The trees just beyond it screen off the

Bibleland Amusement Park in the daytime,

but at night, they do make

a hell of a racket.

- Thanks for everything, Hamilton.

- Most welcome. Just call me Ham.

Ham, call me Fletch.

All right, Fletch.

Anything I can do to help ya.

Fletch!

- Might I give you some personal advice?

- Is it free?

To the sheriff and his sort

of people, you're an outsider.

Guilty in spite of the law.

Should I get outta town

before sundown?

It's not that bad, but...

if I were you,

lookin' for peace and quiet...

Well, they can make it

a might uncomfortable for ya.

It's gonna take time.

Thanks, Ham.

Bye.

My pleasure.

Anything I can do for ya.

Welcome back. I thought you run

off for good. Does this car run?

Yeah, but Miss Belle stopped

drivin' it when the brakes ran out.

I run a few errands

from time to time,

but if you wanna stop it,

you got to think ahead.

Hmm. I finally got the place

straightened out for you.

Mm-hmm. When was that?

Back in 1970?

Your Aunt Belle, she lived in this

one room. Didn't take up much space.

Calculus?

Hmm?

You don't see

a spider, do you?

Spiders is good. They eats the

cockroaches. Yeah, sure they do.

Mister Owl.

This is more like it. This

is what I came here for.

Yes, sir.

Peace and quiet.

Scum, scum, scum.!

Go back to where you come.!

- Friends of yours?

- Nothin' to me.

"The loyal sons of the...

Buford, where's the cross.

Did you bring the cross?

"White race will not allow

any kind of alien infection...

to invade our beloved land."

Scum, scum, scum.

Go back to where you come.

Let's do it together.

Scum, scum, scum. Go back...

Get the hell outta here

and go home! Scum! Pigs!

Sorry I'm late.

Who goes there?

Henry Himmler.

What klavan claims you?

California klavan, Cucamonga.

California?

Yeah. I was passing through town and was

lookin' for something to do this evening.

There was nothing goin' on at the

Rotary Club. I heard about this.

Welcome, Henry.

I'm the Grand Kleagle.

Oh.

California thing.

Pig-faced scum!

What's the occasion here? Oh, some

undesirable carpetbagger... I think.

Damn! Boys, I just got a closer

peek. There's nobody in there.

We're wasting our time.

- And I washed all these sheets.!

- Wh-Who's this?

Oh. Sorry. Hi, fellas. Hank Himmler.

Hi, Hank.

The cross won't burn, nobody home.

Hell, it ain't like it used to be.

You said it.

I couldn't get more than 13 guys out here

tonight. Five of them are green recruits.

Kinda stand-ins, you

know what I mean? Yeah.

We call 'em Klookies.

Klookies?

That's good! Of course,

it's just a contract job.

Yeah.

Contract job?

Yeah.! We've been havin' a terrible

time down here. We've had to rent out.

Here I come!

Gene Hackman, kick your ass.

They're speakin' some kind

of African dialect!

Hi.

'Morning.

- Mr. Fletcher?

- As far as you know.

I'm Becky Ann Culpepper.

Thibodaux Realty.

I'd offer you some coffee and eggs

Benedict, but we're all out of Benedict.

Thanks.

I've already eaten.

What can I do to...

for you?

Mr. Fletcher, you may have heard that there's

a party interested in acquiring your property.

A substantial offer.

How substantial?

$250,000.

Whew!

I don't know.

I had big plans for this place.

Mini mall with a yogurt bar

and a tanning parlor.

Well, Mr. Fletcher,

all I know is $250,000...

is a mighty generous price

for land in this area.

Who's your client?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Well, then I'm not

at liberty to sell.

This is a tremendous

opportunity.

I'll tell you what. I'll consult with

my people who will contact their people,

and they'll get in touch

with your people.

Who are your people?

- Who are yours?

- As I said, I have to keep that confidential.

Very well. I'll just have my people

contact each other. Keep 'em busy.

All right. Well, just keep

me in mind. Here's my card.

Oh, I'll keep you in mind.

Hope we can do this again

sometime soon.

In about 10 minutes?

That night I decided to return

to the scene of the crime.

It gave me a chance to check out my new

car and practice my parallel parking.

So far the only really good

suspect in Amanda's death was me,

and I was pretty sure

that I didn't do it.

Amanda knew more than she'd let on,

but the only clue she'd left me...

was a reference to Aunt Belle

changing her will just before she died.

I knew the local police force was

watching her place carefully...

so there'd be no trouble

getting in.

Over the years I found Mr. Underhill's

credit card to be a useful tool...

much like Underhill himself.

As usual, I was willing to risk my life

just to get a peek into a filing cabinet.

I love them when they're unlocked, neatly

organized and tell me what I wanna know.

Belle's legal files

were in good order...

with the exception of something missing

under the heading of "Bluebird. '"

My aunt had almost left

Belle Isle to some minister.

Obviously at one time

he must have touched her deeply.

Since she changed her mind, I guess

he didn't touch her deeply enough...

or in the right place.

Thank you very much. Couldn't

find that light switch.

What the hell you doin' here? This is a

restricted area. Didn't you see the sign?

Signs? Signs! That's all I

see is signs. Look at this.

Stressed out "dormants" on the windows, walls

that are deplaning to an alarming degree.

Deplaning? This house is obviously

infested with reticulermes Mario Cuomos.

What's that?

What's what?

Reticulermes. You can't even

say it yourself.

They are deadly African

microscopic termites.

They can eat a hundred times

their weight in five minutes.

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