Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Isn't that a little premature?
Wait. I'm not with the police department.
Is that what you're gonna tell his wife?
Each of the individuals possesses a degree in computer science...
but I haven't spoken toJulian in weeks.
Mr. Stevens, how many of your employees have access to the programming room?
anything at all, that's out of the ordinary?
The point is, who was Julian selling the programs to?
[Michael] Armand, you don't know what you're getting yourself into here.
Don't let me interrupt you. Why don't you just trash the rest of the place?
You want a ride home? No, thank you.
Okay, whatever you say.
Let's get him, buddy! Yeah!
Julian? Under the circumstances, probation.
He's a lousy tennis player,
Here we go, KITT.
Unfortunately, the personal data I've compiled...
[Door Opens, Closes]
It still baffles me that they've become so popular.
He goes to his room to meet Connie. He finds her dead. Would you hang around?
Well, she's been keeping a rather low profile.
No! And why would you even ask me that question?
- There was no way you could enter the programming room? - No, not without the access code.
We went through modeling school together back in New York. Is that what you called to tell me?
Video games? Which one are you playing? Space Cadet.
[Michael] "Hillsdale Tennis Club."
Get down.
Let's go.
Wait a minute. You don't understand. There's this, uh...
What do you mean? There's a party here for some of the secretaries.
Hi. That fresh?
Michael, what makes you think Julian's wife will cooperate?
If you're not real careful, you're gonna drown.
Yeah, it is.
Mr. Stevens, whoever is stealing your software is doing it from the inside.
All right, plot me the fastest course to Shaker Lake. Let's go.
Are you some kind of expert?
You have something for me?
You know her? She's an instructor here. You might talk to her.
Now we follow what's inside that briefcase. Lock him in on the tracking scope.
Your husband was stealing computer programs from Delton Micronics.
Michael Knight, a young loner...