Pure Luck

No, thank you.

No, I'm just fine. I'm fine.

I've just got a heel stuck. Okay.

You okay? Uh-huh. Yeah.

Come this way to the car. Yeah, uh-huh.

Gracias, gracias. Oh, it's okay?

Uh-huh. Yeah.

It's all right. It's all right.

Where's... Where are my glasses?

Oh, gracias.

Thank you. You're welcome.

Good morning.

Which brings us to Vasily Pokrovsky.

As you know, this world-famous pianist

insures his hands with us for $8 million.

Your daughter's on the phone from Mexico, Mr. Highsmith.

Oh, is she all right? She's fine.

Her luggage was slightly damaged on the conveyor belt

at the airport, but she's fine.

Excuse me, gentlemen. Certainly.

Hello, Valerie?

Daddy!

Are you sure you're all right?

Daddy, don't be silly. Everything's fine.

Hold a minute, Daddy.

Could you put them on the bed, please?

The people here are so great. They've been really wonderful to me.

But, what's... What's wrong with your luggage?

My luggage? Nothing's wrong with my luggage.

Just got a little scuffed, that's all.

You know, you talked me into this,

but I should never have let you go out there alone.

Stop worrying. It's absolutely gorgeous here

and I'm gonna have a great vacation.

Daddy, you won't believe this, but there's a man... (SCREAMING)

Ahhh!

Val... Valerie!

Ooh!

No, no, we just got cut off, that's all.

Valerie, what's wrong?

I'm fine, really, I'm fine. I'm just gonna go out for a walk.

I want to go take some pictures. (SIGHS)

Stop worrying, Daddy.

Of course I worry. I love you.

I love you, too. Bye.

Little boy. Take your picture?

Stop.

Hey, are you all right?

Where am I?

You're in Mexico.

Am I Mexican?

No, cupcake. You're not.

What is your name?

My name's...

Uh... It's...

What is my name?

Yes, well, don't you worry about it, cupcake.

Why don't we just get you out of the street?

Okay. And find you some nice, cool place

where you can think.

Yeah, I just have to get her out of Puerto Vallarta.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

There's nothing wrong with her.

She just banged her head, that's all.

As soon as she remembers who she is, the sky...

Oh, God.

We'll be on the 5:00 flight to Acapulco.

Oh. Oh, my! I'm so sorry.

I really...

That was over 500 years old.

You broke the only one that wasn't a fake.

I'm really sorry, I'll... I could I replace it for you?

Or... Or I... We could just glue it.

Oh, princess! (LAUGHING)

Don't you worry about it.

Your family can reimburse me

just as soon as you remember who you are.

Your phone number, where you live,

your name.

I'm trying. I know you are, honey.

Here's a nice cup of tea for you.

To the door.

(NURSE AND SECURITY TALKING IN SPANISH)

Hurry up, get her in here!

Get the hell in here, man.

Have a nice day, sir.

Mr. Highsmith.

Good morning, Mr. Highsmith. David.

Mr. Highsmith, sir, excuse me. Yes.

I have to talk to you. What about?

It's about your daughter, sir.

I have a theory.

A theory? What kind of theory?

What I'm about to propose to you, sir, may sound a little unorthodox.

Unorthodox.

She's been missing for over a month now.

No ransom note. The police don't even have a clue.

I sent Raymond Campanella down there with a team of private detectives.

They couldn't find anything, either.

I've talked to psychics, astrologers, fortune tellers.

So don't tell me about unorthodox.

Mr. Highsmith, there's a man who works downstairs in your accounting department.

His name is Proctor. Eugene Proctor.

Never heard of him. What about him?

Well, you wouldn't know him.

I'd like you to ask him to join us in the conference room.

There's something I want you to see.

What are you doing?

I propose we conduct a little experiment to demonstrate my theory.

Well, what has this to do with my daughter?

You know, I've been working here for five years,

and the only time I've heard you mention your daughter

is to relate some catastrophe that's befallen her.

From all you've told me, she must be the unluckiest woman in the world.

Bad luck is fascinating, Mr. Highsmith.

Mr. Proctor is here, sir.

Ask him to come in.

When he comes in, ask him to sit down.

Well, where?

At the table.

Oh, yes.

You wanted to see me, sir?

Yes. Uh... Please, sit down.

Where? (CHUCKLES)

Anywhere you want.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, sir. Thank you, Mr. Proctor.

You can go now.

Where? Back to your office.

Oh. Yes. Thank you.

That'll be all, Mr. Proctor. Good-bye. For now.

How did you know that he would sit on that chair?

Mr. Highsmith, if that had been your daughter, what would she have done?

Ah!

Mr. Campanella?

Mr. Highsmith will see you now.

Oh, Raymond! Thanks for coming at such short notice.

I want you to meet Doctor Julius Monosoff,

who's our company's psychological consultant.

This is Raymond Campanella, who led the team of investigators in Mexico.

Doctor Monosoff has a theory about my daughter

and I wanted to run it past you.

Please, sit down.

Well, you remember what I told you about my daughter's bad luck?

Yes.

Well, that's really the basis of this theory of Doctor Monosoff's.

Now, I know you're gonna think it's kind of crazy, but...

Oh, you tell him, Doctor Monosoff.

Mr. Highsmith's daughter is a textbook example

of Coincident Misfortune Syndrome.

Now, the way I see it, the only way to find Valerie

is to hire someone as unlucky as she is,

who will intuitively lead you to her.

What is this, some kind of joke or something?

A guy like you can't find her because you're normal.

Only someone as unlucky as she is, is going to slip on that same banana peel

or tumble off that same hotel balcony

or, if he's really unlucky,

fall through the same hole in the universe that swallowed up Valerie

and lead us to her.

Mr. Highsmith,

uh, can I talk to you in private for a minute?

Oh, yes, of course.

Excuse us, Doctor Monosoff.

I have more to say.

Graphs, charts...

I know It sounds unorthodox. Just keep an open mind and listen to him.

Look, the man is selling you false hope just like those psychics you hired.

Can't you see that?

I want you to go back to Mexico with Eugene Proctor

and reopen the investigation.

With who? Eugene Proctor.

He's the kind of man that Doctor Monosoff was talking about.

He works in my accounting department.

I know it's a long shot, but it's all I've got left.

I can't believe I'm sitting here listening to this nonsense.

This is not some flippant theory.

You know Delacroix, the painter?

Wonderful example of incredible bad luck.

At the age of three, he's almost strangled by the chord from some draperies.

Then the mosquito netting over his bed catches fire, very badly burned.

While he's recovering, he almost drowns in the bathtub.

Saved by a miracle.

And then he chokes on some grapes.

And it's all absolutely true.

What about Milton, the English poet?

Just before he goes blind, his dog drags all of his manuscripts into a fire.

I mean...

Here's our man.

Looks pretty normal to me. Mm-hmm. Yes.

But I've been keeping my eye on him

since he came in for a job interview a couple of years ago.

He was late.

Got stuck in an elevator with a pregnant woman who went into labor.

That could happen to anyone.

This man has been hit by lightning twice.

Once while inside a movie theater.

As a premature baby, guess what happened to his incubator?