Peter Gunn (1958) s01e18 Episode Script
The Missing Night Watchman
1
Mr. Gunn?
That's right.
Mr. Quimby?
Yes.
I'm in terrible trouble.
Yes, you sounded that way when you phoned.
When I came out to the store this morning,
our night watchman was missing.
Oh?
And also about $50,000 in unsaid gems.
Have you called the police?
No.
Why not?
Well, those jewels were under consignment to the store.
I was in hopes that you could recover them so I
wouldn't have to make an accounting to the owner.
Who's the owner?
Mr. Philip Lazzdown.
He's a very eccentric collector.
He always got a lot of things on display.
He's a very good customer, though.
Aren't you insured?
Well, naturally.
But if Mr. Lazzdown knew a robbery had taken place,
well, he'd never do business in my establishment again.
Do you think the night watchman was
responsible for the theft?
I just don't know what the
The jewels are gone and so is he.
What's his name?
It's Block.
Arthur Block.
He lives in the east side in the park.
I've already checked with his landlady,
but he hasn't returned.
Quimby?
Gracious, it's Mr. Lazzdown.
Yes, Mr. Lazzdown.
Good evening, Mr. Lazzdown.
Enough of your vulgarism, sir.
It's a perfectly wretched evening, as you very well know.
Yes, it is, isn't that?
Mr. Lazzdown, Mr. Gunn, this is Philip J.
Lazzdown.
How do you do, sir?
How do you do?
Quimby, I've come for my Buddha.
You've come for your Buddha?
Oh, no.
You've had it quite long enough.
Where is it?
But, Mr. Lazzdown, I have someone who's interested in it.
I've decided not to sell it.
Not to sell it?
Oh, come, come, come, Quimby.
Where is it?
Sorry.
I've put it right over there temporarily.
In the back room?
But only temporarily.
It is not enough that I suffer the
torment of lending my exquisite
statuary to a firm that employs a philistine as a manager.
But, Mr. Lazzdown No, no, I am now subjected to
the ignominy of having it secreted behind a variety of
brick-brack one would expect to find only
in the men's lounge at Coney Island.
But, Mr. Lazzdown Quimby!
I am repossessing my Buddha forthwith.
For years, I have forced myself to deal
with you in a patient and forbearing manner.
Never again.
This is the crowning blow.
Far be it from Philip Lazzdown to cast pearls before swine.
Oh, that man.
That's terrible.
He's a terrifying man.
Creates sort of a deadline, doesn't he?
What's that?
Oh, yes.
Oh, an immediate accounting.
Probably in the morning.
Well, if I haven't found the night watchman of the
jewels by morning, you'll have to call in the police.
Yes.
In the meantime, Mr. Quimby, keep a good thought.
I'll do everything I can.
Oh.
Thank you.
Yeah?
Does Arthur Block live here?
Not here, doll.
Across the hall.
What room?
B, but he ain't in now.
He ain't been in since yesterday afternoon
when he left for work.
Well, uh, may I see his room?
Well, I don't know, blue eyes.
It's against the rules.
Oh, my goodness.
I dropped $5.
Oh, my goodness.
So you did.
Don't strain your back.
Picking it up.
Touch your room and this will I'm sorry.
Well, now I can get me some medicine.
You keep on waving them things around and
I'll show you every room in the joint.
Just be.
You're the second guy who's been looking for Block today.
Kill somebody?
I wouldn't know.
You ain't a cop?
No.
Private dick?
Just a private.
Here we are, handsome.
Thanks.
What do you know about
What do you know about Philip Lasdown?
Never heard of him.
Slector of rare art objects and nasty dispositions.
Never heard of him.
Come on.
How about a night watchman named Arthur Block?
What about Arthur Block?
Oh, looks like I hit a nerve.
What about Arthur Block?
For some reason, I have a strange
feeling you know quite a bit about Mr.
Block already.
Pete.
Somebody kill him?
Why would anybody want to do a thing like that?
Because your beady little eyes speak volumes, Lieutenant.
You gonna tell me?
Yeah.
All of it?
That depends.
On how much?
On how much I tell you.
That and my client's confidence.
Jacoby.
Be right down.
You want to see Mr. Block?
Sure.
Come with me.
Where?
The morgue.
Dead about four hours.
10-15.
Killed sometime around six.
The slug I took out is like nothing I've ever seen.
I sent it up to ballistics.
Let's take a look at it.
It's almost like a ball.
This will interest you.
That slug was fired from a weapon made in
1837 by Samuel Colt.
He patented it in Europe in 1835 and in the U.S.
in 1836.
Oh.
What does the gun look like?
Well, it was a 4Runner, the Colt 44.
Give me that book there.
It had a single barrel with a revolving
breech carried six slugs.
During the Fieske conspiracy, in France in 1835, Fieske had
a rifle made like it trying to assassinate Louis Philippe.
Okay, Louis.
Drop the gun.
When we didn't call the police because he
was afraid the publicity might scare off Mr. Laszlo.
I've got a hunch it was a lot more than that.
What about Laszlo?
Well, he's a beaut.
And obviously Mr. Quimby's biggest customer.
I think I'll go and have a talk with Mr. Quimby.
I'll give him a call and tell him you're coming over.
But look, keep it as quiet as you can.
We might just get lucky and recover the jewels
before Laszlo has a chance to demand an accounting.
If Laszlo doesn't know there's been a
robbery, he might cool down a little bit
and give the poor little guy back his business.
Sure.
Let's go.
Mr. Quimby?
Yes.
Oh, Mr. Gunn.
The police.
This is a lot more than just a robbery now, Mr. Quimby.
They found Arthur Block.
He's been murdered.
Mr. Quimby?
Mr. Quimby?
You better take along some smelling salts.
You're kidding.
Mr. Quimby?
No, he's the type.
What are you going to do?
I'll pay Mr. Philip Lazzdown a little visit.
Keep in touch.
Yeah.
Now!
Will you kindly answer that bell?
All right, all right, a little Patience.
Please, please.
I do not read, pick, look, see,
quick, or popular mechanics.
I refuse to endorse a petition.
I abhor pressure cookers, stainless steel
cutlery, reconditioned vacuum cleaners,
break out in a rash at the mere mention of
any aftershave lotion.
And as far as the free excursion to the
Bahamas with all expenses paid,
I couldn't be less interested.
Now, if you will kindly remove your person
from my property.
I'm warning you, sir.
I met you this evening at the
Far East Importing Company.
I remember you.
Will you kindly remove your foot?
I'd be happy to, if you'd just answer a few questions.
Who are you, sir?
I mean, what is your occupation?
Wouldn't you be surprised if I were a policeman?
A policeman?
How earthy.
Now, what do you want?
How many things do you have on consignment
at the Far East Importing Company?
I have many things on consignment.
What I had, I intend to remove them in the morning.
Anything of extreme value?
My dear sir, I own nothing that could not
be considered of extreme value.
Approximately $50,000 in rare gems,
a dozen priceless antiques.
As a matter of fact, that Buddha
of which that scoundrel Quimby
was hiding in the corner was my most priceless possession.
Aside from its ancient ancestry, the protrusion
on the forehead is a perfect pigeon-blood Ruby.
Approximately 50 carats.
Now, is there anything else?
I'm sure your foot must be going to sleep.
Ever heard of a man by the name of Arthur Block?
Never.
He was Quimby's night watchman.
Sir, our conversation is at an end.
I find your reference to my association with a
night watchman the lowest form of discourse.
Now, good night.
Now, you heard that bell.
Well, why didn't you answer it?
Why didn't you answer the door?
That's no excuse.
Hey, Bud.
I do not read look, pick, click, or popular mechanics.
So who's taking a census?
I just want to know if a party named Lasdown lives here.
Well, I wouldn't call him exactly a party.
He's more like a street fight.
He lives here?
He does.
Good.
I hope his luggage is ready.
Hey.
Who do you want killed?
What do you want with Lasdown?
Just here to pick up some luggage.
And deliver it where?
To the airport.
What flight?
Eleven.
Look, you didn't tell me a thing.
I didn't even see it.
Then let me drive off before you ring the bell, huh?
Take your time, pal.
Take your time.
This is JP-34295.
Would you get me Midway 86561, please?
Hello.
Hello, Jacoby.
Is Quimby all right?
He isn't here.
The door was unlocked.
The store was dark.
I checked his apartment upstairs.
No sign of him.
Well, look, Lansdowne's taking a trip.
Flight 11.
The luggage company just picked up his bags.
And he told me that he's planning to move
his merchandise from Quimby's in the morning.
Flight 11 leaves at midnight.
Well, that's right.
So something doesn't add up.
Why don't you come on out here and see if
your shiny little badge shakes him up?
Don't speak disparagingly of my shiny little badge.
It goes well with my beady little eyes.
I'm at the corner of Elm and Westgate.
If he leaves for the airport before you
get here, he'll have to pass right by me.
I'll meet you at the airport.
Young man.
Thanks.
Be careful.
I'll meet you at the airport.
I'll meet you at the airport.
He isn't safer than his own home.
What's this city coming to?
A police force that is obviously second
only to the Boy Scouts.
Calm down, Mr. Lassner.
Calm down?
I have no intention of calming down.
How would you enjoy walking into your own
living room and there slinking around in
the dark a pathological fiend intent on
robbing you of your most priceless possession?
The Buddha?
Well, of course the Buddha.
Had I not walked in at that precise moment, he would
probably be carrying it piggyback through the center of town.
While your observing police force would
undoubtedly have stopped traffic for him.
Where were you when all this happened?
Mao doesn't speak a word of English.
Anyway, he was snoring in bed at the time.
Well, suspecting my manservant is the best
you can do, really.
All right, Mr. Lasdown, were you going to
take that Buddha with you on flight 11?
The fact that I am flying to New York on
business is no concern of yours, Sergeant.
It is if you're the number one suspect in a killing.
I beg your pardon?
Mr. Lasdown, do you own any guns?
Sir, I do not collect weapons of any sort.
Now, I demand to know what you mean
when you imply that I am a suspect in a killing.
The night watchman in Quimby's store was shot to death.
That night watchman again.
My dear Sergeant, for me to assume that
you are the number one suspect associated
with a night watchman is stretching the
bonds of probability too far.
Are you sure the thief was after the Buddha?
Positive.
He'd moved it halfway across the room
before I surprised him.
Doesn't make sense a thief would go to all that trouble.
If it were me, I would just pry out the Ruby.
Keep your hands to yourself, sir.
Valuable?
About 50 carats worth.
Looks like it would pop right out.
Which brings up another point.
If the night watchman did steal those
jewels from Quimby's safe Steal what jewels?
Why didn't he steal the Ruby?
He stole the Ruby from the Buddha.
My jewels?
Were they my jewels?
Oh, shut up.
What?
He said shut up.
I think the potential thief wanted the
Buddha for something else.
Is there anything else about the Buddha besides the Ruby?
Oh, I told you before, it's very rare.
Aside from that, could you hide anything in it?
Sounds hollow.
It is hollow.
By pressing that Ruby, the entire base swings open.
Wealthy families used to place their
valuables inside for protection.
Show us.
Good grief.
A gun.
Yours?
Certainly not.
It not was there?
No.
And it was not in that bulldozer when I
consigned it to that little rodent, Quimby.
Sergeant.
Lieutenant.
Congratulations.
I demand to know if the jewels stolen from the Far
East Importing Company were They were yours.
That deceitful little pipsqueak.
After all the business I've given him,
I shall personally take
extreme delight in exposing him as a
discredit to his profession.
Excuse me.
Where does he think he's going?
Let him go.
He's a suspect.
You want the killer?
Yeah.
I have a hunch he'll dump him right in your lap.
All you have to do is give Laz down his head.
I'd love to.
On a platter.
You miserable little wretch.
How dare you?
How dare you?
Please, Mr. Laz down the neighbors.
I assure you the neighbors will be only
the first to hear this one, Ross.
But it was Block.
Who put that gun in my Buddha?
You found it?
Well, of course I did.
You knew it was there.
No, no, no, no, no, I don't know anything about it.
Liar.
The police found it when police.
Finally.
You're just going to shoot me.
Call an ambulance.
See?
No, it's all right.
It's just in the leg.
Hello, Mr. Gunn.
Hello, Mr. Quimby.
I might as well confess.
I shot poor Mr. Block.
He came to work early, and he surprised
me, stealing the jewels.
He wanted me to split with him,
and he threatened to expose me, too.
I shot him, and then I hid the gun in the boot.
And you broke into Lazdowne's house
tonight and tried to get the gun, huh?
Yes.
Unfortunately, the ambulance is on its way.
© BF-WATCH TV 2021.
Mr. Gunn?
That's right.
Mr. Quimby?
Yes.
I'm in terrible trouble.
Yes, you sounded that way when you phoned.
When I came out to the store this morning,
our night watchman was missing.
Oh?
And also about $50,000 in unsaid gems.
Have you called the police?
No.
Why not?
Well, those jewels were under consignment to the store.
I was in hopes that you could recover them so I
wouldn't have to make an accounting to the owner.
Who's the owner?
Mr. Philip Lazzdown.
He's a very eccentric collector.
He always got a lot of things on display.
He's a very good customer, though.
Aren't you insured?
Well, naturally.
But if Mr. Lazzdown knew a robbery had taken place,
well, he'd never do business in my establishment again.
Do you think the night watchman was
responsible for the theft?
I just don't know what the
The jewels are gone and so is he.
What's his name?
It's Block.
Arthur Block.
He lives in the east side in the park.
I've already checked with his landlady,
but he hasn't returned.
Quimby?
Gracious, it's Mr. Lazzdown.
Yes, Mr. Lazzdown.
Good evening, Mr. Lazzdown.
Enough of your vulgarism, sir.
It's a perfectly wretched evening, as you very well know.
Yes, it is, isn't that?
Mr. Lazzdown, Mr. Gunn, this is Philip J.
Lazzdown.
How do you do, sir?
How do you do?
Quimby, I've come for my Buddha.
You've come for your Buddha?
Oh, no.
You've had it quite long enough.
Where is it?
But, Mr. Lazzdown, I have someone who's interested in it.
I've decided not to sell it.
Not to sell it?
Oh, come, come, come, Quimby.
Where is it?
Sorry.
I've put it right over there temporarily.
In the back room?
But only temporarily.
It is not enough that I suffer the
torment of lending my exquisite
statuary to a firm that employs a philistine as a manager.
But, Mr. Lazzdown No, no, I am now subjected to
the ignominy of having it secreted behind a variety of
brick-brack one would expect to find only
in the men's lounge at Coney Island.
But, Mr. Lazzdown Quimby!
I am repossessing my Buddha forthwith.
For years, I have forced myself to deal
with you in a patient and forbearing manner.
Never again.
This is the crowning blow.
Far be it from Philip Lazzdown to cast pearls before swine.
Oh, that man.
That's terrible.
He's a terrifying man.
Creates sort of a deadline, doesn't he?
What's that?
Oh, yes.
Oh, an immediate accounting.
Probably in the morning.
Well, if I haven't found the night watchman of the
jewels by morning, you'll have to call in the police.
Yes.
In the meantime, Mr. Quimby, keep a good thought.
I'll do everything I can.
Oh.
Thank you.
Yeah?
Does Arthur Block live here?
Not here, doll.
Across the hall.
What room?
B, but he ain't in now.
He ain't been in since yesterday afternoon
when he left for work.
Well, uh, may I see his room?
Well, I don't know, blue eyes.
It's against the rules.
Oh, my goodness.
I dropped $5.
Oh, my goodness.
So you did.
Don't strain your back.
Picking it up.
Touch your room and this will I'm sorry.
Well, now I can get me some medicine.
You keep on waving them things around and
I'll show you every room in the joint.
Just be.
You're the second guy who's been looking for Block today.
Kill somebody?
I wouldn't know.
You ain't a cop?
No.
Private dick?
Just a private.
Here we are, handsome.
Thanks.
What do you know about
What do you know about Philip Lasdown?
Never heard of him.
Slector of rare art objects and nasty dispositions.
Never heard of him.
Come on.
How about a night watchman named Arthur Block?
What about Arthur Block?
Oh, looks like I hit a nerve.
What about Arthur Block?
For some reason, I have a strange
feeling you know quite a bit about Mr.
Block already.
Pete.
Somebody kill him?
Why would anybody want to do a thing like that?
Because your beady little eyes speak volumes, Lieutenant.
You gonna tell me?
Yeah.
All of it?
That depends.
On how much?
On how much I tell you.
That and my client's confidence.
Jacoby.
Be right down.
You want to see Mr. Block?
Sure.
Come with me.
Where?
The morgue.
Dead about four hours.
10-15.
Killed sometime around six.
The slug I took out is like nothing I've ever seen.
I sent it up to ballistics.
Let's take a look at it.
It's almost like a ball.
This will interest you.
That slug was fired from a weapon made in
1837 by Samuel Colt.
He patented it in Europe in 1835 and in the U.S.
in 1836.
Oh.
What does the gun look like?
Well, it was a 4Runner, the Colt 44.
Give me that book there.
It had a single barrel with a revolving
breech carried six slugs.
During the Fieske conspiracy, in France in 1835, Fieske had
a rifle made like it trying to assassinate Louis Philippe.
Okay, Louis.
Drop the gun.
When we didn't call the police because he
was afraid the publicity might scare off Mr. Laszlo.
I've got a hunch it was a lot more than that.
What about Laszlo?
Well, he's a beaut.
And obviously Mr. Quimby's biggest customer.
I think I'll go and have a talk with Mr. Quimby.
I'll give him a call and tell him you're coming over.
But look, keep it as quiet as you can.
We might just get lucky and recover the jewels
before Laszlo has a chance to demand an accounting.
If Laszlo doesn't know there's been a
robbery, he might cool down a little bit
and give the poor little guy back his business.
Sure.
Let's go.
Mr. Quimby?
Yes.
Oh, Mr. Gunn.
The police.
This is a lot more than just a robbery now, Mr. Quimby.
They found Arthur Block.
He's been murdered.
Mr. Quimby?
Mr. Quimby?
You better take along some smelling salts.
You're kidding.
Mr. Quimby?
No, he's the type.
What are you going to do?
I'll pay Mr. Philip Lazzdown a little visit.
Keep in touch.
Yeah.
Now!
Will you kindly answer that bell?
All right, all right, a little Patience.
Please, please.
I do not read, pick, look, see,
quick, or popular mechanics.
I refuse to endorse a petition.
I abhor pressure cookers, stainless steel
cutlery, reconditioned vacuum cleaners,
break out in a rash at the mere mention of
any aftershave lotion.
And as far as the free excursion to the
Bahamas with all expenses paid,
I couldn't be less interested.
Now, if you will kindly remove your person
from my property.
I'm warning you, sir.
I met you this evening at the
Far East Importing Company.
I remember you.
Will you kindly remove your foot?
I'd be happy to, if you'd just answer a few questions.
Who are you, sir?
I mean, what is your occupation?
Wouldn't you be surprised if I were a policeman?
A policeman?
How earthy.
Now, what do you want?
How many things do you have on consignment
at the Far East Importing Company?
I have many things on consignment.
What I had, I intend to remove them in the morning.
Anything of extreme value?
My dear sir, I own nothing that could not
be considered of extreme value.
Approximately $50,000 in rare gems,
a dozen priceless antiques.
As a matter of fact, that Buddha
of which that scoundrel Quimby
was hiding in the corner was my most priceless possession.
Aside from its ancient ancestry, the protrusion
on the forehead is a perfect pigeon-blood Ruby.
Approximately 50 carats.
Now, is there anything else?
I'm sure your foot must be going to sleep.
Ever heard of a man by the name of Arthur Block?
Never.
He was Quimby's night watchman.
Sir, our conversation is at an end.
I find your reference to my association with a
night watchman the lowest form of discourse.
Now, good night.
Now, you heard that bell.
Well, why didn't you answer it?
Why didn't you answer the door?
That's no excuse.
Hey, Bud.
I do not read look, pick, click, or popular mechanics.
So who's taking a census?
I just want to know if a party named Lasdown lives here.
Well, I wouldn't call him exactly a party.
He's more like a street fight.
He lives here?
He does.
Good.
I hope his luggage is ready.
Hey.
Who do you want killed?
What do you want with Lasdown?
Just here to pick up some luggage.
And deliver it where?
To the airport.
What flight?
Eleven.
Look, you didn't tell me a thing.
I didn't even see it.
Then let me drive off before you ring the bell, huh?
Take your time, pal.
Take your time.
This is JP-34295.
Would you get me Midway 86561, please?
Hello.
Hello, Jacoby.
Is Quimby all right?
He isn't here.
The door was unlocked.
The store was dark.
I checked his apartment upstairs.
No sign of him.
Well, look, Lansdowne's taking a trip.
Flight 11.
The luggage company just picked up his bags.
And he told me that he's planning to move
his merchandise from Quimby's in the morning.
Flight 11 leaves at midnight.
Well, that's right.
So something doesn't add up.
Why don't you come on out here and see if
your shiny little badge shakes him up?
Don't speak disparagingly of my shiny little badge.
It goes well with my beady little eyes.
I'm at the corner of Elm and Westgate.
If he leaves for the airport before you
get here, he'll have to pass right by me.
I'll meet you at the airport.
Young man.
Thanks.
Be careful.
I'll meet you at the airport.
I'll meet you at the airport.
He isn't safer than his own home.
What's this city coming to?
A police force that is obviously second
only to the Boy Scouts.
Calm down, Mr. Lassner.
Calm down?
I have no intention of calming down.
How would you enjoy walking into your own
living room and there slinking around in
the dark a pathological fiend intent on
robbing you of your most priceless possession?
The Buddha?
Well, of course the Buddha.
Had I not walked in at that precise moment, he would
probably be carrying it piggyback through the center of town.
While your observing police force would
undoubtedly have stopped traffic for him.
Where were you when all this happened?
Mao doesn't speak a word of English.
Anyway, he was snoring in bed at the time.
Well, suspecting my manservant is the best
you can do, really.
All right, Mr. Lasdown, were you going to
take that Buddha with you on flight 11?
The fact that I am flying to New York on
business is no concern of yours, Sergeant.
It is if you're the number one suspect in a killing.
I beg your pardon?
Mr. Lasdown, do you own any guns?
Sir, I do not collect weapons of any sort.
Now, I demand to know what you mean
when you imply that I am a suspect in a killing.
The night watchman in Quimby's store was shot to death.
That night watchman again.
My dear Sergeant, for me to assume that
you are the number one suspect associated
with a night watchman is stretching the
bonds of probability too far.
Are you sure the thief was after the Buddha?
Positive.
He'd moved it halfway across the room
before I surprised him.
Doesn't make sense a thief would go to all that trouble.
If it were me, I would just pry out the Ruby.
Keep your hands to yourself, sir.
Valuable?
About 50 carats worth.
Looks like it would pop right out.
Which brings up another point.
If the night watchman did steal those
jewels from Quimby's safe Steal what jewels?
Why didn't he steal the Ruby?
He stole the Ruby from the Buddha.
My jewels?
Were they my jewels?
Oh, shut up.
What?
He said shut up.
I think the potential thief wanted the
Buddha for something else.
Is there anything else about the Buddha besides the Ruby?
Oh, I told you before, it's very rare.
Aside from that, could you hide anything in it?
Sounds hollow.
It is hollow.
By pressing that Ruby, the entire base swings open.
Wealthy families used to place their
valuables inside for protection.
Show us.
Good grief.
A gun.
Yours?
Certainly not.
It not was there?
No.
And it was not in that bulldozer when I
consigned it to that little rodent, Quimby.
Sergeant.
Lieutenant.
Congratulations.
I demand to know if the jewels stolen from the Far
East Importing Company were They were yours.
That deceitful little pipsqueak.
After all the business I've given him,
I shall personally take
extreme delight in exposing him as a
discredit to his profession.
Excuse me.
Where does he think he's going?
Let him go.
He's a suspect.
You want the killer?
Yeah.
I have a hunch he'll dump him right in your lap.
All you have to do is give Laz down his head.
I'd love to.
On a platter.
You miserable little wretch.
How dare you?
How dare you?
Please, Mr. Laz down the neighbors.
I assure you the neighbors will be only
the first to hear this one, Ross.
But it was Block.
Who put that gun in my Buddha?
You found it?
Well, of course I did.
You knew it was there.
No, no, no, no, no, I don't know anything about it.
Liar.
The police found it when police.
Finally.
You're just going to shoot me.
Call an ambulance.
See?
No, it's all right.
It's just in the leg.
Hello, Mr. Gunn.
Hello, Mr. Quimby.
I might as well confess.
I shot poor Mr. Block.
He came to work early, and he surprised
me, stealing the jewels.
He wanted me to split with him,
and he threatened to expose me, too.
I shot him, and then I hid the gun in the boot.
And you broke into Lazdowne's house
tonight and tried to get the gun, huh?
Yes.
Unfortunately, the ambulance is on its way.
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