Mannix

All right. Thank you.

Psst.

He's out there again.

Forget it.

He's harmless.

First came the word, and then came the music,

and we got it all together for you

in a new one by Danny Shepard.

Kill the power!

Chris.

What a rush.

Miss Jane Peterson?

Yes.

I'm Joe Mannix.

Oh, yes.

Come on in, please.

Thank you.

You said it was, uh, very important.

Oh, it is. It is.

Uh, is that enough for a retainer?

That depends what you want done.

Well, there's a singer by the name of Chris Lockwood.

He was almost electrocuted last night.

Oh, yeah, I read about that.

Well, the newspaper said that it was an accident,

but I think that someone was trying to kill him.

What gives you that idea?

Mr. Mannix...

what are the chances of you...

shooting yourself with your own gun accidentally?

Slim.

Well, uh, Chris Lockwood works

with that electrical sound equipment

on the stage all the time... safely.

Until last night.

Miss Peterson...

why are you hiring me?

Uh, why not Chris Lockwood?

Because he wouldn't.

Ah,

Just what's your interest in him?

1, uh, happen to like the way he sings live.

I'd like to keep it that way.

I'm impressed.

I mean, real music lovers are rare these days.

You know, that Lockwood kid was just plain lucky.

If he'd grabbed that hot mic like this...

The way he usually does...

He'd be deader than a mackerel right now.

What do you think caused it?

A short somewhere.

Been able to find it?

No, can't seem to.

You know, accidents do happen.

There was a guy playing the guitar barefoot on a wet stage,

electrocuted himself over in London just last year.

Yeah, the only trouble is,

Chris Lockwood wasn't barefooted.

This could have been a deliberate attempt to kill him.

By who and what for?

I was hoping maybe you could tell me.

I'm sorry.

But I still say accidents do happen.

Yeah.

This hot?

No, no, it's safe.

Hmm.

Uh, where does this wire lead?

Oh, that-that... that leads to the amplifier.

It's okay.

What about that one?

Oh, that's just the ground.

And where does it lead?

To that metal pipe over there.

Hey!

Well, like, uh, I said, accidents do happen.

So do murders.

Okay, take ten, boys.

Hey! What's going on? Hey, how you doing, man?

How you doing, Bubba? Good to see you.

How's it sound, Wing?

Danny, that has got to be

the best jingle you've written since I found you two guys

doing ten-dollar gigs in the boonies.

Wha-ha!

Hey, how was Vegas?

When did you get back?

Oh, couple hours ago.

The games people play up there in that town... they shouldn't.

But as the man says

in the commercials, you only go around once.

And let me tell you something, a couple of plugs from old Wing,

and you guys are a lock for another golden record.

Lordy, you boys are going to be millionaires

before you're 20 minutes older.

Hey, tell me about it.

You know, I can remember when the payoff

was Danish and coffee.

And I had to buy.

Like to take the food out of my own mouth.

Uh, Chris Lockwood?

Yeah.

The name is Joe Mannix.

I'm a private investigator.

Hey, what is this?

I've been hired to investigate your accident

on the theory that, uh, someone wants you dead.

You mean maybe somebody set it up?

Maybe.

You got to be putting me on.

Hey, listen to the man, Chris.

Chris, he's right. Listen to the man.

Ah, I don't need anybody to babysit.

Hey, who hired you?

A Miss Jane Peterson.

Groupie?

Says she's a fan.

Well, tell her she's wasting her money.

You sure of that?

No, he's not sure! Chris, baby...

Hey, cool it, Wing.

No way! Danny, tell him.

Few days ago, a guy sideswiped Chris's car,

trying to run him off Malibu Canyon.

Some drunk... he wasn't even that close.

Look, friends, nothing's going to happen to me.

Ready any time you are, C and D.

Yeah, right on. Let's get it on.

Repeat...

I don't need you around, Mr. Mannix.

Sorry.

It's your life.

You got it, baby.

He doesn't care.

Nobody's luck guarantees him against a murder try.

If you know of any enemies...

Danny!

We're paying heavy for this hall.

All right, all right, all right. Hold it a second.

There's this weirdo... his name is Walcott.

He comes to the club every night.

Maybe you ought to check him out.

Mannix, I've been knowing these two kids

since they owned two pair of Levi

and a beat-up guitar between them,

so if there's anything I can do, you...

I'll howl.

Okay.

Yes?

Is Miss Peterson in?

I'm Miss Peterson.

You live here?

I pay the rent, so I must.

Alone?

Tiresome, isn't it?

Are you from the Census Bureau?

Uh, no. Uh, earlier today,

I talked to someone right here in your apartment.

She told me she was Jane Peterson.

I can show you my credentials.

Or, better yet, why don't I just phone the manager?

No, that won't be necessary, Miss Peterson.

Uh, my mistake.

Sorry.

Some case.

You have a famous man to protect who doesn't want protection

and a client who isn't the girl she's supposed to be.

That's just beautiful, Joe.

What do you do now?

Well, now, uh, you are going to check out

Chris Lockwood and Danny Shepard.

Friends, business deals, lovers and enemies.

While you do what?

Try and locate my anonymous client.

Uh, call Chip.

Tell him to tail Miss Peterson.

There's Walcott.

He's sitting at the table alone by the bar.

Man, that cat makes me sweat.

It's like he's drowning, going down for the third time.

He's got ice needles in his brain.