Fletch

My name is Irwin Fletcher.

I'm an investigative reporter for a Los Angeles paper.

You've probably read my stuff under the byline of Jane Doe.

What the hey. It's better than Irwin.

The last three weeks, I've been loitering around the beach,

trying to pass for an amiable minor league junkie.

I don't nod out or drool... that's too obvious.

Act like you don't give a crap and you fit right in.

Business has really picked up, huh?

I'm still closed. What is it, a Colombian national holiday?

Yeah.

So what do you figure, Sam?

- No idea. - No idea at all?

- Some idea. - Like when?

When it comes, it comes.

I got some reds.

You don't mean Communists, do you, Sam?

Everything a joke to you, Fletch?

Everything, Sam.

Hey, Gummy. Hey, Fletch. Hey, Sam.

How's the eye?

Guess it's okay. Cops did it.

They always beatin' up on me.

He doesn't know. Son of a bitch!

That's what he said. He doesn't know?

How come he doesn't know?

I don't know how come he doesn't know. He just doesn't know.

Son of a bitch!

I wonder how he gets the stuff. I have no idea.

He never leaves the beach, Fat Sam.

Never leaves. Sits in that chair, he's out of shit.

And suddenly he gets up, he's got shit.

So where's it come from? The sand?

I think that's highly unlikely, Crease.

I ought a get some sleep.

Crease, how old are you? Nineteen.

You're not taking very good care of yourself.

In case you haven't guessed yet,

there's been a lot of drug traffic on the beach.

And I'm not talking about Robitussin and NoDoz.

I'm talkin' about the hard stuff and a lot of it.

I've been trying to find out who's behind it.

It hasn't been easy.

I don't shower much.

Excuse me. Yeah.

I've something I'd like to discuss with you.

What's that?

We can't talk about it here.

Why not? Because we can't.

Are you on a scavenger hunt, or I just forget to pay my dinner check?

- I'd be happy to pay it. - I want you to come to my house.

And then we'll talk. You got the wrong gal, fella.

I'll give you a thousand dollars cash.

What?

Just come to my house and listen to the proposition.

If you reject the proposition, you keep the thousand...

and your mouth shut.

Does this proposition entail my dressing up as Little Bo Peep?

It's nothing of a sexual nature, I assure you.

Yeah, I assure you. 1,000 just to listen?

I don't see how you can pass that up, Mister...

Nugent. Ted Nugent.

Alan Stanwyk.

Alan, charmed.

For an extra grand, I'll let you take me out to dinner.

What a coincidence. What?

I came this close to buying this place.

Then I found out Hopalong Cassidy killed himself here. Blew it for me.

Who? Hopalong Cassidy.

Bow and arrow. It was very weird.

What, are you doped up now?

Don't talk to me like that, ass-face. I don't work for you yet.

Buenos días. Buenos días.

Pup 'N' Taco.

Oh, you've remodeled the garage.

Must have cost you hundreds.

That's a good idea. I ought a frame mine.

Pope be in later?

- Here's my proposition. - I'm all ears.

I want you to murder me.

Here, on Thursday.

I'd like you to shoot me dead.

And the reason I ask you to do me this service...

is because I am already facing...

a very long, painful and most certain death.

You see, I have bone cancer.

I don't know if you know anything about bone cancer, Mr. Nugent.

It's the worst kind you can get.

It just eats you up bit by bit.

You don't look sick, Mr. Stanwyk.

I don't feel sick. Not yet.

They tell me it'll start getting bad in about a month.

After that, I'd rather not be around for it.

Why don't you try suicide?

Believe me, I've thought about it.

But my company's taken out a very large life insurance policy on me.

Suicide would nullify my insurance.

But murder does not.

Why me? You're a drifter, a...

A, uh... pardon the expression... a junkie.

Nobody would notice if you just disappeared.

You see, I've been watching you for a couple of weeks.

Maybe I'm just on vacation.

Not with the scum you hang out with. No.

No, I've watched... and I've thought.

It's rather an elegant little plan. I even have your escape figured out for you.

Swell.

Has it ever occurred to you I might not want to murder you, Stanwyk?

I've got $50,000 says you will.

50,000.

And a guarantee you won't get caught.

I'm still here.

I want it done Thursday evening around 8:00 p.m. My wife will be at her club function.

And it's the staff's night off.

- These will be open. - Wouldn't they normally be locked?

Sometimes yes, sometimes no. The staff usually forget.

Oh, yeah. I have the same trouble with my help.

Now I'll be here in the room waiting for you.

The safe will be open.

There'll be $50,000 in it.

You'll be wearing rubber gloves. Do you own rubber gloves?

I rent 'em. I have a lease with an option to buy.

Now, in this drawer...

Ah! A .357 Magnum.

My .357. You use it, no one can trace it to you.

Of course, the room will be in some disarray.

You want it to look like a burglary attempt?

You come in and catch me... I'm stealing your ties and money.

We scuffle and... and, uh, gun gets loose, and I shoot you right between the eyes.

Precisely.

- Are you a good shot? - Yeah, I'm all right.

Well, get me on the first shot if you can.

- Do you have a passport? - I can probably dig one up.

Good. Now, after you kill me, take the Jaguar.

The keys will be in the glove compartment.

- Take it where? - L.A.X.

Go to the Pan Am desk. There'll be a ticket waiting for you.

- Where am I going? - Rio.

Departs at 11:00 p.m.

- They serve dinner on the flight? - And a movie and free drinks.

I'd recommend staying down there for at least a year.

So?

So...

You've certainly thought this out.

I'm not someone who leaves a great deal to chance.

- Those will be open? - Don't worry about that.

Just take care of the gloves, the passport and the aim.

I'll take care of everything else.

The gun, the money, tickets...

and the dying.

That's right.

Looks like you get the hard part.

What do you say?

You'll be doing me and my family a great service.

Will you kill me?

Sure.

Hey. How you doin'?

Hey! Good to see you.

Whoa! Check out the beach boy. Slouch, how are you? Good to see you.

Larry? Yo.

Can I steal you for a minute? Only if you promise not to return me.

It's a deal. Magic today, huh?

Yeah, Kareem's in the wash. I need a favor.

- Shoot. - Don't say anything, okay?

Fletch! Do you hear something?

Not me. Me neither.

See what we have on a guy named Alan Stanwyk in Beverly Hills.

I need this right away. Fletch. Fletch.

I take it by your presence here that the story is done.

It's W-Y-K.

- Tell me I'm right. - No "C." I'll be right down.

You are right, Frank, but you're very peaked. You want to throw up?

- Come on in. Vomit in my cubicle. - I want an answer!

The story's done, right? Uh, almost.

"Uh, almost" is not an answer.

"Yes, Frank. The story's all done." That's an answer.

And a damn fine answer, if I do say so my damn self.

- Irwin, professional journalism time now. - Two points.

Go back to the beach... Don't say "Irwin."

- Rubber gloves. - And finish the damn story!

Hey. Frank, I will. I swear. Frank, something else came up. Okay?

No, it's not okay. You got a deadline tomorrow.

- Did you see the ad we ran Sunday? - I don't read the paper.

What's the spread in the game... What's the spread in the game tonight? Anybody know?

- Lakers by six. - Take a look.

"Drugs On Our Beaches. Shame of the"... "Shame of the City"?

- That's very nice. - Now try to follow me on this.

You can't run the ad and then not run the story.

You can't? Why not?

Shit. Really?

Frank, I'm just putting you on. You'll get the story and be very proud of it.

- That's a promise. - You broke it? You know the source?

Practically. What's "practically"?

Is it this guy Fat Sam? You said you had pictures of him.

I do have pictures of him dealing.

Well, let's go. We'll run the pictures.