Hudson Hawk

I stuck my neck out
getting this for you Limey bastards.

Where's my cut?
So much for his cut.
Forgive my dry British humor.
I think Gates
promised Hawk a cut, too.

- Are you taking the Concorde back?
- Always.

I collect the frequent-flyer points.
Ta-ta, Hudson Hawk.
- Yo, Five-Tone.
- Did I miss anything?

You always ask me that.
Gates just got himself killed.

I bet you went up to Mrs. Lincoln at
the Ford Theatre and asked her that.

- You should get this looked at.
- Gates was killed?

The Butler did it. He took Mr. Ed
and busted it over Gates' head.

He said it was made
by Leonardo da Vinci.

I consider it to be the prize
of tonight's equestrian auction.

- Horse things.
- All right, Mr. PBS, you got me.

Morning edition. It says
two thieves attempted to steal it.

But three brave guards saved it.
Attempted? I didn't want
to steal it, but I do have my pride.

- I don't understand.
- Forget it.

I'm tired of this.
Cops, mafia, butlers ...

Stealing things that aren't stolen.
It's all too goddamn peculiar.