richard david kimble. vascular surgeon. convicted of first-degree murder in the killing of his wife. pleaded innocent. claimed a one-armed -
none. no previous arrests.
no relatives.
never get it.
running outta map, sam.
got him.
we're movin' in.
son of a bitch.
we feel confident about the i.d.
local officials were about to wet their pants to move in.
same room.
that's an el announcement.
perfectly.
was there anything in your initial investigation that would make you think kimble would come back to chicago.
what i can't figure is, if you were kimble, why'd you take a major league chance of hanging around a trauma ward?
the place would be crawling with cops.
it could take us a week to track down every one of those names.
he's in pullman area.  fifteen seconds for location.
holy shit. we've got a car there right now.
he's pulling our chain, sam. if this was the guy kimble was looking for, why call us?
if you were richard kimble.  why would you hunt for a one-armed man you think killed your wife; find hint then leave him and call us?
unless.  what if you were a well respected surgeon and wanted to kill your wife? how would you do it?
how would you find him? look in the phone book?
through a connection.
that's an easy fix. so let's say he was in town. did the job. everything goes as planned with one problem.
so kimble returns to hunt for and find the hit man.
you're underestimating the power of the good doctor. it would be his word against.  sykes'. who would you believe?
get help.
he's a security specialist at devlin-macgregor pharmaceuticals.
"advances in nuclear tissue and pathology research," by dr. charles nichols. i bet they line up to hear that one.
he was covering for kimble.
balbo station. that's -
there is a u.s. marshal out there. hold your fire!
separated from gerard. he hears a noise behind him - a bag comes down the track at break-neck speed, renfro spins, dodges it, gets his bearings and continues.