ആദ്യത്തെ 200 വരികൾ.
O, death, where is thy sting?
O, grave, where is thy victory?
For man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live,
and is full of misery.
He cometh up and is cut down like a flower.
He fleeth as it were a shadow.
In the midst of life, we are in death.
In the midst of death, we are in life.
- It was a nice service. - Hmm.
And he had a good, long life.
He did, for a heroin addict.
-Sad Archer wasn't there. -Or here.
It's been a long couple of months.
Three, next week.
You should go sleep in a real bed.
I'm fine. I want to be here if--
When he wakes up.
Yeah. Did the doctor--
The same.
Could be tomorrow, could be another three months.
-Could be... -Yeah.
Well, I guess I'll go.
I'll try to bring AJ by tomorrow. Or Friday.
We'll be here.
At least he doesn't know Woodhouse died. That would break his heart.
Mm-hmm.
Although there's no telling what he knows.
Or what he's thinking about.
Well, dreaming about, I suppose.
No.
No, no, no!
No!
No!
Nooooo!
Let me go, God damn it. Come on!
-Go easy, Archer. -Poovey, I swear to Christ,
I will punch you right in the... genitals.
It's okay. Let him go.
You big lummox.
Oh, Jesus. Woodhouse.
So, where are you, Figgis? You got any leads?
What do you think happened?
I think he got too far behind on his dope tab,
so sometime last night his dealer punched his ticket for him.
Yeah, and wouldn't that be convenient?
Not for him.
-You little rat-- -
- -Now, scram, Archer.
Ow. Son of a-- I mean, just "ow."
You can claim the body at the morgue.
But that better be the last time I smell you anywhere near this case.
Yeah, we'll see about that.
Yeah? And we'll see how you like it when I yank your PI license.
See you around, Poovey.
Take it easy, Archer.
Oh, hey, and, Archer?
Come to think of it, where were you last night?
-Ask your wife. -
Ah, you know his wife left him.
For you, Archer, 'cause you screwed her tits off at the precinct cookout.
So then she thought the two of you would get married
and live happily ever after, but then you were like, "What?"
-Exactly. That face right there. -I--
How does that help?
Mmm. Humanizes you?
Hey, pal. You got a second?
I do not, actually,
and I am not, come to think of it, so screw.
-Hm. I'm sorry. Let me rephrase that. -Wh--
Do you know who I work for?
Do you know how much I don't care?
About what? Living out the week?
'Cause we're both out of luck, friend.
I left all my cash at the track.
But if maybe you wanted some dope--
Do I look like a junkie to you?
I don't know. I try not to judge.
You used to sell to this guy.
Yeah, Woodhouse. He--
Wait. Used to?
-He's dead. -What?
Oh, for the love of--
He was one of-- No, he was my best customer.
So, he was paid up?
Paid up? He paid in advance.
Yeah. He was not great with money.
Right? I mean, who tips their dope dealer?
So, I guess we're done here?
We're done when I say we're done.
I'm sorry. Let me rephrase that.
- -
Okay. So, one of two things is gonna happen here.
Oh!
Hm. Wonder what the other thing was.
Goddamn.
Is it your feeding time already?
I wish you wouldn't antagonize him.
Well, I wish you could hold a tempo.
Which, clearly, sarcastic.
No, it wasn't.
No, thank you, Zerk, that will suffice.
- - Huh?
Wha-- What's-- What--
Ah. There he is.
The infamous Sterling Archer, private eye.
And I trust you know who I am?
I do. But what do I call you?
"Mother" will do.
And so, you do know who I am, but you don't care?
What? No, I--
That's what you told my bartender when you stuck a gun in his ribs.
I-- Well, first of all, your bartender sells heroin.
-Gasp. -And I pulled my gun
because I'm trying to find out who killed my partner.
That would be Woodhouse.
Yeah. He-- How'd you know that?
It's my business to know a great many things, Mr. Archer.
What would you say if I offered you a drink?
I'd probably say bourbon. Old Buncombe, if you've got it.
Oh, I have a bit of everything.
-So I hear. -Hm.
-How do you take it? -Usually alone.
Thank you for making an exception.
Please.
And so, I do hope you'll forgive Mr. Zerk for his hands-on approach.
Maybe. But I sure won't forget it.
Yes. I believe that was the point.
-I meant-- -I know what you meant.
-Cigarette? -No, thanks. Never took it up.
Really? But I thought they loaded all you GI's down
with cartons of them on your way up the gangplank.
-They did. -Supposed to help keep you alert.
I guess I found it all stimulating enough.
-Mm. Normandy? -Yeah.
Omaha Beach.
By way of North Africa and Sicily.
And after Normandy, through France and Belgium,
all the way to Berlin.
Well, I had to get to Berlin.
I'd sent all my clean shirts ahead.
Mm-hmm.
Speak any German?
You know. "Don't shoot," "I surrender,"
-"Hitler's the tops," stuff like that. -Mm-hmm.
Bronze Star with two Oak Leaves and "V" device.
Legion of Merit. Croix de Guerre with Palm.
Silver Star with two Oak Leaves.
Distinguished Service Cross with one Oak Leaf and "V" device.
Three Purple Hearts. It goes on, Mr. Archer.
Yeah, senior year, I was voted class flirt.
And yet, you turned down a battlefield commission to second lieutenant.
Well, after class flirt, I mean--
In fact, you left the army at the same rank you went in.
Buck private.
And do you know what that tells me?
I need a new lock on my diary?
That you don't like taking orders.
Yeah, or having my time wasted.
So, if you'll excuse me--
Oh, no. I will not.
-Excuse me? -No... I just said.
-Sorry? -Me too.
-I-- Wait. No. I meant-- -I know what you meant.
I-- Look, I'm just trying to find the bastard who killed my partner.
With which, perhaps, I can help you.
With which-- Hang on. Wait, really?
Perhaps.
But before I could help you, I would need you to help me.
I'll do anything to find Woodhouse's killer.
And then avenge his death.
Well then, Mr. Archer, what would you say if I offered you a job?
I'd probably say yes.
And also bourbon.
Len Trexler.
I assume you're familiar with him?
Who isn't?
He's the biggest mobster in LA.
Well, maybe not for much longer.
Why, is he sick?
Wh-- No, you ass.
Although you could say that his time has come.
Wait. You want me to help you make a move against Len Trexler?
Whose hobby is dissolving people in acid?
Oh, now, Trexler doesn't do the actual dissolving.
That would be his enforcer, Dutch Dylan.
I don't care who does the dissolving.
But if you help me, I can help you.
Perhaps. You made that very clear.
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