Shivaree on Delancy Street
A tailor wins big on the numbers, but gang wars interfere with the payout. Sgt. Broadhurst is badly wounded and numbers money is planted on him, causing him to be investigated by Internal Affairs. The tailor becomes a witness in the wars, but heads off to Miami Beach with his winnings and his shiksa fiancée, followed by two hit men and McCloud.
The wedding march
An epithalamion, or perhaps a dithyramb on Debussy’s observation that “sometimes it’s necessary to spit in the censers.”
Kessler follows Mort Fine’s meticulously constructed script point by point, mostly in close-ups, interspersed with much fine location filming of New York and Miami. He concludes with a complicated chase on Biscayne Bay (this looks to have been filmed off Long Beach, Calif. with the Gerald Desmond Bridge in the background, but appearances on McCloud can sometimes be deceiving).
At the hospital, a nurse can be heard paging “Dr. Satlof,” and again later at the end of the scene in the waiting room between McCloud and Sgt. Ashby of Internal Affairs (who has a copy of Intellectual Digest on his lap). This episode was produced by Ron Satlof.
Danny Thomas Marcus Rubin
Written by Mort Fine
Directed by Bruce Kessler
The onscreen title is evidently an error. A street sign early on correctly gives, as Amado’s Rolodex does: Delancey Street.
McCLOUD: He was on special assignment. Maybe he was collectin’ evidence.
SGT. ASHBY: Maybe.
McCLOUD: You left that word hangin’ there about as high as a horsethief on a short rope.
STOOLIE: Is the gentleman living?
SGT. ASHBY: Mm-hmm.
SELDITZ: (Seeing McCloud.) That’s a policeman?
SELDITZ: You get hit in the face with a lox, something’s gonna hurt.
KOSKA: I just heard myself threaten an old friend.
RUBIN: Yeah, I heard it too.
AMADO: They want out of the ghetto into the suburbs, Koska. But as far as I’m concerned, to hell with them.
CHIEF CLIFFORD: IAD has the only authority to
investigate. If one of my regular men steps in to help, the entire Department
will be suspect!
McCLOUD: I got news for you, Chief, I ain’t one o’ your regular men.
CHIEF CLIFFORD: I’m painfully aware of that, don’t stab me with it!
JUDY: I can’t believe Marshal McCloud talked about murder.
RUBIN: He’s got his line of work, I’ve got mine.
RUBIN: (To Judy, who works in an art gallery.) If a young, nice-looking fellow should come in today, and he looks at you more than he looks at the Picasso, cooperate! Stand in front of the Picasso!
End of Chief Clifford’s telegram to McCloud:
Don’t hurry back. I am enjoying your vacation.
McCLOUD: (Proposing a toast.) This’s a little thing I learned from a bronc rider just after he went over the withers of a brahma (he pronounces it bray-muh) bull. He came up laughin’ and said, uh, mazel tov!