Invasion of the Bee Girls

Here it is.

John Doe.

John Doe is a legitimate name, Captain Peters.

What do you got?

His wallet was under the bed.

His name was Grubowsky.

Just one more question, Mrs. Grubowsky.

All right.

I know how difficult this must be.

Did your husband have any previous history

of heart trouble?

No.

Anything else?

Among other things, coronary thrombosis.

Meaning?

A clot in the right and left ventricle.

Formed by coagulation of the blood.

Due from extreme exhaustion.

Was he fooling around?

Was he ever.

Like I said, I was in the room next door,

but I didn't hear anything. Not a sound.

Are you sure, Mr. Ferris?

Well, think carefully.

Well, except maybe for one thing.

Well, go ahead.

They left the TV set on.

Do you remember what was playing?

No, it was after it went off the air, I mean.

I could hear it humming.

Humming?

You know...

Yeah, yeah.

You remember what time that was?

Oh, about 10:00 p.m., I guess.

I don't know.

Anything else?

Sheriff's Department.

No, that's-- that's everything.

Well, thank you very much

for your cooperation, Mr. Ferris.

We know how to get in touch with you.

They have all that written down.

Thank you.

We'll be right over.

Bob.

I don't know if it means anything, but

check the local TV stations.

Right.

What's the matter?

They just found another body.

Hi.

What can I do for you?

Oh, I'm Neil Agar.

State Department of Security.

Oh, yeah.

All right, it's been a madhouse around here.

Somewhere in this mess of bureaucratic garbage

is your telegram.

Sorry I couldn't meet you at the airport myself.

Oh, that's okay.

Uh, could I take a look at the Grubowsky file, please?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Um.

When do the stitches come out?

They're out.

I've been briefed.

They asked me to help keep you out of trouble.

What happened?

Uh, nothing much, really.

I guess they sent me down on this one.

It looks like an easy one after that last one.

That's what I figured.

I don't know what the government wants in this one for,

it seems innocuous enough.

Well, the Pentagon likes to keep their eye

on government-sponsored research facilities, like Brandt.

You know.

Incidentally, we had another one.

Another what?

Another death.

Heart attack, massive coronary.

I've scheduled an autopsy.

This somebody at Brandt, Captain?

No.

Kid at the factory.

You think the government wants in that one, too?

It was there all the time.

A kid with heart failure?

Thanks.

Just one moment.

- Hi. - Hi.

Neil Agar. I'm expected.

Okay-

Great, it's through those double doors.

Thank you.

Can I help you?

I do.

I'm sorry, he's not in his office.

Michael Levy, please call reception.

Hey, I'm really sorry.

Gee, this place is really impressive.

Who's in charge?

I am.

Really?

Yes.

Well, I'm Neil Agar, State Department Security.

I'm here to investigate Professor Grubowsky's death.

What can I do for you?

Well, you assisted him, didn't you,

on his bacteriological warfare report?

That's right.

Could I see the file, please?

That's, uh, highly confidential information.

Well, you wouldn't want me to pull rank on you, would you?

May I see your clearance?

Now may I see the file, please?

Will Mr. Paul Heller,

please call reception.

How dare you go through my things!

That's just part of the job.

But you were the last person to see him alive,

and you had dinner with him on the night he was murdered.

Why do you say "murdered"?

Sorry.

Well, we had dinner that night.

Uh, whenever we work late, we always have dinner.

Uh, Gretchen knew about it.

- Gretchen? His wife.

How convenient.

All right.

You might as well know.

We went to dinner at the Flamingo Bar and Grill.

And by about 10 o'clock,

we were playing kneesies under the table, and having dessert.

Like the good old days.

And then we went to the motel.

And then it happened.

What happened?

We balled, and we balled, and we balled.

Till he dropped dead.

Touché.

Let's go to lunch.

It's a small town, Mr. Agar.

Nothing ever really happens here.

So we have to find ways to amuse ourselves.

We never really get a chance to get down to LA.

There are a lot of sex games that go on here.

Wife swapping, and, uh, a lot of related nonsense.

Scientists really aren't any different

from the rest of humanity.

Just a bit more inventive, is all.

Excuse me.

Am I boring you, Mr. Agar?

Oh, I'm sorry.

You were saying?

All of Jack's friends are notorious Don Juans.

And do you know that from your own personal experience?

Still doing your job, Mr. Agar?

Do me a favor, will ya?

Just call me Neil?

That's Dr. Murger.

He's head of Reproductive Biology.

His pet project is the study of the two-way transmission

of sensory sexual information.

He's quite a loner, though.

I have yet to see him in the company of a woman.

Kind of ironic for a sex researcher.

Is he straight?

I haven't the vaguest.

Why don't you go get undressed?

Okay.

Oh, Eddie, can't you wait?

Jesus Christ!

I can't believe he's gone.

I didn't know Grubowsky had a bad heart.

No one did.

I'd sure like to meet the girl he was with, hmm?

At least, there couldn't have been too much pain involved.

I mean, how would you classify that?

Accidental manslaughter?

You know what I've always hoped?

What?

That when my time comes...

Yeah?

...there'd be a few seconds of ecstasy...

...and then, oblivion.

No, just think about it, boys.

Coming and going at the same time.