Curt Devlin, Express.
Okay.
Hi, Curt.
I thought I left you in that bird cage
at the office.
What's a reporter without his cameraman?
He's happy.
I can get a swell picture...
I can put it up my sleeve...
The last time you did that
you got a lovely close-up of your elbow.
Now go away and hide someplace
and play hermit, will you?
Aw, Curt, have a heart.
I haven't missed one of these
clam bakes in years.
Well, this is one you'll miss.
Okay, okay, I hope when the dame
sits down they blow a fuse.
That's all I hope.
Hey, you better have one. You look pale.
I'm all right.
What's that on your forehead, dew?
Aw, shut up.
What time is it?
11:35.
Well, if this isn't a nice way
to make a living.
You don't think this Gaye dame
will take on, do you?
Oh, probably. The last one I saw
screamed all the way to the chair.
That's what I heard about dames.
They always dramatize everything.
It would have been a good idea
if that dame had committed suicide
before she got to the dance hall.
Then we wouldn't have to watch it.
No such luck.
I don't know why they give me
such assignments. I always get sick.
Yeah? And I wish you'd stop eating
beforehand.
Never bothers me.
Well, it does me.
Hello, everybody. And how is everyone
on this festive occasion?
Hey, Devlin, did you bring a bottle?
Where've you been, Dev?
Haven't seen you for a long time.
I work for a living.
How are you, Devlin?
Well, I'm a dirty so-a-so.
That's what I always thought.
What are you doing here, Garfield?
Covering a story.
Oh, thanks.
Have a sandwich?
Not me. I've attended these things before.
You mean to say that Spike Kiley
handed you out this assignment.
Oh, I asked for it.
You asked for it?
Why not? It's a big story,
isn't it?
Look, tidbit,
electrocution is no place for you.
Well, I'm a reporter.
No, you're not.
You're just a sweet little kid
whose family allowed her
to read too many newspaper novels.
You make me so mad I could...
Well, I could...
Spit!
Go ahead.
You think you're cute, don't you?
You know, I'm surprised you don't talk
baby talk.
By the way,
I don't suppose you've been to any
of these high tension parties, have you?
Well, there's always a first time.
Yeah, but it always seems a little worse
when they burn a woman.
Why make an exception
because she's a woman?
Well, it could be a very interesting experience
for you.
Look, maybe I can give you
a rough idea of how it looks.
You know, just so you know how
to handle yourself.
Now, supposing this is the chair.
Over there are the witnesses,
that's us.
Then they slap you in the chair
like that, see?
Then they put the straps across here...
another here and another here.
Then another one across here tight.
Then they take a wide rubber band
and put it across your eyes.
Like that.
And another one across your mouth.
Then they take the electrode
and they slap it on your leg, like this.
Never mind the rehearsal.
I was only trying to give you a present.
That' s a swell way to do it.
Look, real gold and everything.
You pick out the most appropriate places
to get sentimental.
Now, listen, little Miss Front Page...
It's okay for you to shag fires
and ambulances.
But a burning is different.
It does something to you.
It chews you up inside.
Look at those guys.
They've seen it before,
and believe me, they're really tough.
Don't go through it, kid.
You don't have to.
I'll cover the story for you.
No, you won't. I was sent down here
to see it and I'm going to.
Come on, let me take you out of here.
No...
If you can take it, I can.
Oh, all right.
Well, I guess it's about time
for the slow music.
We can go in now, boys.
It's getting close.
I don't have to tell you the regulations.
You know them.
Remember, it's different this time.
Why couldn't they have given her life?
I wish they had.
Remember the last time we came
through here?
I couldn't sleep for a week.
You wanted to join the parade,
now keep in step.
Baby, don't go through it.
I'll cover for you.
No one will ever know.
Tough guy, eh?
Hi, Herb,
Hello, what's the trouble?
Did a maniac drive by here doing 80?
No, he didn't drive by, he drove in.
And he wasn't doing 80, he was doing 85
and he ain't no maniac,
he's Curt Devlin, which is worse.
Is he parked in there?
Yeah.
Good. Open up.
Hello, Burke.
Hi, Ned.
This is the car, all right.
Swallow that tune, sonny,
let's have your name.
Sure. Toots O'Grady, press.
Put it away.
Before you start writing I should mention
I don't own the car...
I wasn't driving and my hands
are too cold to sign anything.
Then how would you like to put your mittens on
and drive this fire wagon into the station house
where it's nice and warm?
The trouble with that is I haven't got
the keys.
In that case you can get out
and push it over to the station.
Now that we've had our little joke
you can write the ticket
and I'll be on my way.
You said it, Toots. Come on,
get back there and start pushing.
I thought you were playing.
Climb in front.
You drive and I whistle.
We haven't got all night now,
push him up.
Would you mind releasing the brake?
You think we should?
Sure, why not?
All way up, then.
Step on it. Shift her into high.
I've always wanted to travel this way.
No noise, no vibration, no nothing.
Goodbye, Barnes.
Have a nice time.
Where did you pick up the spare tire?
Lovely night for driving, isn't it?
Yes, step on it. Let's have a little speed.
Did I ever tell you the story about
my first wife?
No.
I'm lucky to have my motorcycle.
Hey, what's the matter here?
We've stopped.
What's the matter with that guy?
Hey, Toots.
He disappeared.
Look!
Hey, are you down there, Toots?
I don't know. It's too dark to tell.
You better come on out of there
or we'll come down after you.
Swell. Watch out for the first step,
it's 25 feet.
You mean you can't get out?
What do you think I am, a bird?
Boy, I wanna get out of here
and get some air.
I'm hot and dry all over.
Hey, you look pale as a ghost.
Hey, Mike.
Get this while it's hot.
Believe me, it's hot.
I gotta go right now, they're waiting.
Under my byline.
New York, written January 7th.
The lights of Broadway did not flicker.
But those of North Prison did as...
Mabel Gaye bravely sang her last finale.
With a song in her lips, Mabel Gaye,
Broadway's famous female Boniface
At midnight she...
Hey, Joe, take care of the kid,
will you?
Somebody get her some water.
Put her over on the bench
and get some water.
I don't know whether I can make this,
but here it goes. Are you ready?
I knew that daisy would wilt.
Never mind, I'll cover.
Pick up my stuff.
Be sure and tell the night desk to rewrite it,
otherwise we'll both have the same story.
Okay.
All right, let's go.
With a song on her lips, Mabel Gaye,
Broadway's famous female Boniface
walked to the electric chair last night
to expiate the murder of dapper
Rudy Spade.
As the auburn-haired beauty walked down
the last mile
Okay, Burt, take it out.
...and the body of the once vibrant toast
of the main stand
will be taken today for interment
in the family plot
in the little town from where she came,
Smithsville, Ohio.
Ended.
Add this to the night desk.
Mike Conley, keep this under your hat,
Garfield fainted and I covered.
Give her a break, Curt.
Okay.
I feel all right.
Thanks.
It's okay, baby,
I covered the story for you.
But...
Don't worry, I took care of you.
Thanks, Curt.
I know how you feel. Come on.
Mabel Gaye died singing.
Not bad. That gal may make
a newspaperman yet.
Yeah, she may grow a full beard,
but that ain't likely either.
Here's The Express. Final
Mabel Gaye dies singing.
That's a hot one.
Well, for the...
Do you see what I see?
If you see the same story
word for word in both papers, I do.
Get circulation and transportation.
Hello, Press Room? Kiley talking,
hold your run, we're replating page one.
Wait a minute.
Circulation? Kiley, hold the guys.
Transportation? Hold back your trucks.
What?
All right, get back what you can.
Three trucks got away already.
You know, this bit of female journalism
is liable to land yourself on a cartoon magazine.
You use the AP for the replates
and get a sub for the new run.
Sorry, chief, this came in with
Garfield's stuff. I just found it again.
Get the telegraph out.
Spike, under your hat, Garfield fainted,
I covered, give her a break, Curt.
Oh... I've been here 17 years but I knew
it wasn't gonna be permanent.
Hey, is he quitting?
What do you care?
You ain't working here anymore.
AP?
Oh, thanks.
Kind of afraid around the edges, huh?
Hm-hmm.
If you were I would you ask me
if I loved you?
Hm-hmm.
Well, do you, sort of?
Not sort of, lots of.
Would you pucker up
and kiss a guy on account of?
Hm-hmm.
Just because of.
I know a guy that's married.
He likes it.
What does his wife think about it?
Well, she wishes he were twins
so she could commit bigamy...
and be twice as happy.
Look, Curt, what do you think
it would be like?
Heaven, with all the modern conveniences.
Gee, Ellen, why not?
This business of being in newspapers
won't do. That's kids' stuff.
You don't have to work.
No, but...
I want to prove I can be
as good a reporter as...
Now, look. We can get one of those
studio apartments with a fireplace and...
what else would you want?
Are you listening to me?
I was just worrying about that story.
Don't worry about that. It'll be out
on the street by the time we reach town.
Don't interrupt me like that again.
Now where were we?
Read about it. Electrocuted girl.
Extra. Morning edition...
Hey, boy, two of each.
Showgirl electrocuted.!
Read all about it!
Girl dies singing!
Mabel Gaye dies singing.
Mabel Gaye dies singing.
So you covered me.
That fathead, Kiley.
Hey, where are you going?
So, you double-crossed me.
What do you mean, double-crossed?
I tried to cover you.
Wait a minute.
This isn't gonna do me any good either,
you know.
Hey, how are you gonna get home?
The subway's still running.
Not to where you can go,
as fas as I'm concerned.
Nice story, Garfield, both of them.
Good morning to you.
Lovely work, sister.
You sure did a swell job with that one.
You and that Express guy
got a one track mind.
Hello.
I'd hoped you'd ended it all.
Did I get you into terrible trouble,
Spike?
What Mr Johns said to me
would make mule skinner's conversation
with a factious beast
sound like a baby's prayer at twilight.
Oh, I'm awful sorry, Spike.
You only started being sorry.
Mr Johns wants to see you.
Well, in every life some rain must fall.
You're a cloudburst around this office.
Come on.
Do you mind telling me just how it happened
that you and Curt Devlin
had the same story word for word?
What was it, a coincidence?
Hey, Devlin, Mr Hartnett wants to see you.
Funny, I had that feeling all morning.
And now, buttercup,
do you mind telling me what this beautiful thing
is that's comes into your life
and turns you into the Little St Francis
of the press?
Well, I just wanted to give the belle
a break.
And while you're giving her a break
you give our circulation a compound fracture.
It's getting so in use it gets into the Encyclopedia Britannica before we get it.
All right, I said I was sorry
and I'm not gonna get my eyes all red
crying about it.
So, what do I do?
Go to work for The Star?
That wouldn't be any change for you.
You're working for The Star half the time anyway,
covering up that sop sister.
If you just look on your paycheck,
you'll discover that The Express
is paying you your salary.
Oh, yeah, which reminds me.
I was thinking about getting married
and I thought a raise...
A raise?
Maybe we better talk about it
after the ceremony.
A raise.
Hello.
Where have you been?
In the sewer.
What?
In a sewer.
What were you doing in a sewer?
Nothing very constructive.
Just keeping the rats company.
Listen, Toots.
Of all the places for a man to kill time,
such as the movies, the aquarium
and the library, you pick a sewer.
It's very indicative of your character.
I knew you'd feel that way about it,
Curt,
but it's just one of those things
a man falls into.
Think I'd better get home and take a bath.
There's been threats.
From whom?
The Board of Health.
It's a racket, I tell you.
You can't make more than $70
unless you're an editor
You know where the big dough goes,
don't you?
It's a swell story, you see what happens...
Hello.
Imagine a picture like that...
You know my soft focus lens.
And where do they put it?
At the bottom of the Sunday ads section.
And that's where it should be...
Hi, Devlin.
Hiya, Nell.
How's yourself? Toss you for a drink.
Okay, tails.
Two bourbons.
Two bourbons.
What'll your small boy have?
He can have mine.
See you later, you ol' darling, you.
Here you are, Miss.
Wrap mine up for me, will you?
Here, sonny, don't forget your drink.
Don't go away.
Here's mud in your eye.
Make it beauty clay, you need it.
Same thing, Jill.
Hello, Garfield.
I thought by this time you'd be out
of the newspaper business
and taking a course in Domestic Science.
Curt, I found out that you really did
try to cover me last night.
You did, huh?
I'm sorry.
I should have believed you, I know.
Do you think I'm...
well, do you think I'm sort of a rat?
No, just a little mousy.
Did you get fired?
No, but I got a piece of Mr Johns' mind.
And I might tell you, it wasn't any present
a gentleman should give a lady.
What about you?
Oh, my boss was quite pleasant,
all he said was that he'd appreciate it very much
if I would arrange a suicide pact with you.
I guess we're in the doghouse, all right.
Don't worry about it.
I've been in the doghouse so long
I'm commencing to bark at strangers.
I'm not worried about you,
I'm worried about myself, my job.
In two weeks you'll be back covering
the Dahlia Show.
Are you going to start that again?
Sure, why don't you marry me?
I'll make a swell husband, even if I am
a reporter.
Now, look, I don't write novels or newspaper plays
and take my hat off inside the house.
Perfect.
Don't forget, I'm a newspaper woman, too.
Yeah, and don't you forget that women
make rotten newspapermen.
Is that so?
Yeah.
Look at Nell Bonnett.
Let me see, Nell.
If I could make a picture from this angle
with my soft focus lens...
No, there's nothing you can do.
You look at her.
She makes me feel effeminate.
Well, I don't, do I?
No.
I'm going to prove
I'm as good a reporter as any man.
Pecans.
And what's more,
I'm going to make you admit it.
Almonds.
I wouldn't marry you for anything
in this world.
Walnuts, both English and black.
And the muffins I make...
Saved by the bell.
That's a three-alarm.
Well, the son of a gun, he's learned
to count.
Aren't you going to cover the fire?
Sure, as soon as I have a glass of beer.
Well, I'm going now.
Say...
If it starts to go out, put a little kindling
on it as soon as I get there.
You're so smart.
Ellen...
What do you want?
You know what happens to girls
who play with fire.
What?
They get burned.
Oh, I was under the wrong impression.
I thought...
Fire! Fire in the basement.
Fire! Fire in the basement.
Stop it, Stone, put that gun down,
you don't know what you're doing.
I know just what I'm doing.
All right, you won't get away with it.
Watch out, he's got a gun!
Put that gun down,
you don't know what you're doing.
Listen to me, will you, please?
Keep out of this...
You don't know what you're doing...
Keep out of this...
No, I tell you, no...
I'm sorry, Miss.
But I'm a reporter, this press card says so.
I'm not running the risk of letting
any woman through these firelands.
I don't care if you're a billygoat,
you can't get through.
Well, I'll be a billygoat if you want me to.
If you're gonna be any kind of a goat,
you'll be a nannygoat and you'll like it.
Pardon me.
Let us through, folks. Hello, Hallohan.
Make way for mother's little lamb.
How are you, Mr Devlin?
And who's this poor young lady
you've got with you?
She says she's a reporter.
She does?
Well, she isn't a reporter,
and what's more, she never will be.
I'm every bit as good a reporter as he is.
Oh, yeah, then let's see you get
through these lines.
There's nothing like an apartment-house fire
to find a lot of guys whose wives think
they're in Chicago.
So keep that bird cage cocked and
you'll shoot yourself a scandal.
Don't worry about me,
there's no smoke in my eyes.
Think you can make it?
There's only one way to find out.
Come on.
Take it easy.
Officer, can you come here a moment?
Hello, Mr. Stone.
What are you doing here?
Showing remarkably good sense
by leaving a burning building.
Will you see if you can get us
a cab, please.
I will, Mr Stone.
Get back there.
Where did she go?
She slipped out the back way.
Nobody saw her.
Sure?
I'm positive. Stop worrying,
will you?
All right. Here he comes now.
What's the matter, Mr Stone?
Nothing, just a lungfull of smoke, I guess.
I hope you're all right.
Thank you, officer.
All right.
Hey, go back on the curb,
back on the curb, go on, now.
Did you see the Express?
I saw both of them.
What's the matter with us?
You know any reason why we...
Yeah, here comes the reason now.
Good morning, Spike.
Where have you been, and why don't you
go back?
What's the matter?
Didn't you like my story about the fire
last night?
Oh, that was literature:
"The hungry flames greedily licked
the paint from the building."
That moved me, and how.
The brave fire laddies
darting about in the smoke
looked like creatures escaped from
Dante's Inferno."
That got me, too.
I don't think my goose pimples will ever
go down after that line.
It was lovely, so sweet. I'll bet we've given
a million readers pimples.
You got everything there was to get
for the story.
Read The Express.
Marvin Stone disappears after fire.
Yes.
Broadway producer missing after
apartment house fire.
Well, I'm a...
How do you suppose he got that?
By being a newspaperman, dear.
There are 200 fires in this town every day.
But there's only one Marvin Stone.
So what do you do?
You describe a fire.
You wouldn't know a story if it picked you
on the air and you got lockjaw.
If you could only spell I'd put you in the
classified ads department.
I've had drunken reporters,
I've had reporters who coudn't
read or write...
but so help me,
you're the only one I ever had
that can have her throat cut
and not know it even after she saw
the blood.
Oh, I'm sorry, Spike, really I am.
You were sorry last time...
and I was sorry for you last time,
but no more.
To me you're just another dame
that's missed her calling.
You ought to be writing poems
on birthday cards.
Oh, give it to me. I know I deserve it.
I should have known better.
Well, I'm gonna start running an office
around here.
Listen. Stone...
There was a Stone at the fire last night.
Spike, I think I got a beat.
You couldn't beat an egg.
Give me 24 hours. I think I got something.
If I had it my way, I'd give you life.
If I don't come back with something
this time, I won't come back.
I hope.
I should have fired her.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Hold your horses.
Stop that banging or you'll wake the dead.
Hello.
Say, listen, if you're gonna start
that goat game...
No, this is important.
So is my sleep.
Have you read the morning paper?
No, I sleep in the daytime.
That is, I did until you came into my life.
Well, Marvin Stone is missing.
The police have checked everywhere.
Stone... Stone...
Oh, I saw him at the fire.
I got him a taxi, a yellow.
That's what I thought. Well, call them up
and find out where they took him.
I will.
No, no, easy now...
All right, hurry up. It's very important.
Give me a chance...
Can't you see it's important?
I know, I know.
Hello. This is Hallohan of the 5th Precinct.
One of your men picked up a gentleman
at the Granger Arms Apartments last night
at 9:30.
Dark coat and a gray fedora hat.
Yeah, we want to know where the driver
took him.
Okay.
What did he say?
They're checking up.
Who was the man with him?
Never saw him before.
Hello? Yes.
Is that so?
Okay, thanks.
What?
The driver took Stone to the
Plaza Hospital.
Well, come on, let's go.
Not without me pants.
All right.
Wait a minute now...
Take it easy...
Stone? Just a minute, please,
and I'll see.
Stone, Stone... I'm sorry, but there's
no one here by the name of Stone.
Wasn't there any man admitted
around 10:00 last night?
10:00 last night?
Yes, there was a man by the name of
James Craig admitted at a 9:45.
Is he still here?
Yes, he's in room 702.
Do you suppose that could be...
I don't suppose anything.
We'll check up on him.
That was room 70...
Room 702, 7th floor east.
All right, thanks. Come on.
We'd like to see Mr Craig.
Mr Craig? Just a moment.
This gentleman would like to see
Mr Craig.
I'm sorry to tell you. Mr Craig died
ten minutes ago.
Died? Of what?
A stab wound in the abdomen.
Have you notified the police?
The detectives were with him until
he died.
Did he tell them who stabbed him?
No. He never regained consciousness.
I'd like to have a look at the body.
Yes, I'll go with you.
Hold it, you'd better wait here.
All right.
Thanks.
Well? It's Marvin Stone, all right.
My hunch was right. Hold on
while I call the office.
Has anyone else been here
and inquired about this man?
No. Is she a relative?
No, no. I'm the one interested.
I'm just working something out.
Hello, give me the desk.
Hello, this is Garfield.
Spike, I've found Marvin Stone.
He's dead. Looks like murder.
Can you make it in the bulldog?
Murdered, eh? Beautiful.
I'll switch you to rewrite.
Wait a minute...
I just remembered something else.
Last night at the fire, Stone turned
to the man with him and said...
"Where is she?".
And the mystery man answered...
"She went out the back way.
Nobody saw her."
A mystery man, a mystery woman,
and a probable murder.
Baby, you're doing swell.
Now find the mystery woman.
Marvin Stone dead of a stab wound.
Entered hospital under an alias.
By Ellen Garfield.
It's a thorn in my side
when I see you beaten by a woman.
She pinned a rose on me, all right.
You gotta hand it to her.
Don't let her get you down, pal.
I was one of those lovesick newshounds
myself once...
but it didn't get anywheres.
It was purely platonic.
She was a blister from Arizona.
Indian blood. Lots of money and plenty of...
Devlin speaking.
Oh, the moon of my delight.
I wondered if you've been reading
The Star lately.
Yeah, there was an interesting article
about Lydia Pinkham in the last edition.
Oh, that yarn of yours.
Well, that was just a lucky break.
You stumbled over something and
it turned out to be a corpse, that's all.
I heard a noise distinctly like
the crunching of sour grapes.
You haven't got a story. All you got is a lead.
The real story is digging up the unknown he,
the unseen she
and the guy who did the foul deed.
And that's where I come in
in my little quiet way.
If I don't beat you to it.
All right, if I turn up this murder,
will you give in?
Maybe.
If you do.
It's a bet.
Crazy.
Say, are you serious about this?
Okay, it's a bet.
It's a bet. Read about it in the Four Star.
Mrs Devlin.
Have you got any ideas?
Boy, get me all the clippings
on Marvin Stone.
Yes, sir.
Just roll that well enough alone.
All right, next.
Alexis Andre, 2000, Grant Avenue.
Alexis Andre, 2000, Grant.... say, what kind of name
is Theodorosa Rosedick?
Put it down.
I get it, everytime we find a name we can't
pronounce, that's what we're looking for.
As far as I can find out,
this fellow Stone has taken up with every woman
in the world except Whistler's mother.
You can look up the fellow's life
for the past ten years
and you'll only be half through the list.
Got 'em down?
I got two pages full.
Put 'em in your pocket and come on.
Aw, Curt, we ain't gonna look up
all these dames, are we?
You think I'm crazy?
I wish you hadn't asked me that.
Hey, Curt.
What?
Can we start this with a cup of coffee?
I'm one of those pests from The Express.
Could I bother you for a moment?
I suppose so.
The late lamented and punctured Mr Stone...
Know any tasty little details
about him?
I'm afraid I can't help you.
He never regained consciousness
and they've taken the body to the morgue.
What about his clothes?
His clothes are here.
But I'm afraid they won't give you
any clues.
The police have removed everything
from the pockets.
Well, nothing will give you less information
than a vacant suit.
But I would like to see them if I may.
Well, it's not regulation.
Aw, just a little peek.
All right, just a moment.
Come along.
No smoking, please.
I know, I was just practicing.
This way, gentlemen. Right over here.
Here it is.
Nice material, isn't it.
He'd toast marshmallows on the candles
around the coffin.
Hmm, perfume.
Can you imagine a guy spicing himself
with a vibrant smell like that?
That isn't a man's scent.
You're telling me.
Well, thanks.
Say, Toots, it might be a good idea
to take a picture of her.
Might make nice human interest story,
you know, the modern Florence Nightingale.
Oh, really...
Oh, it's not a bad idea, come on.
Right over here, now.
Let's see, what color are your eyes?
Blue.
Both of them?
No, not the down position,
the up position.
Oh, it thrills me.
Now try to look like a cross between
an angel
and an ambulance going through a wreck.
You cant' fool me, you've posed before.
You're so relaxed. Hold it!
A beautiful subject.
May I have one of the pictures?
When you see it in the paper,
just cut it out.
Better get going,
we're in a hurry.
Goodbye.
Yes, gentlemen, what can I do for you?
Did Mr Stone ever have any suits
made here?
No, sir.
Did you ever do any pressing and cleaning
for Mr Stone before he shed this mortal coil.
Before he what?
Before he kicked the bucket.
Oh, yes, I did. Several times.
I was quite shocked...
Yes, I'm sure you were.
Do you recognize this piece of material?
Oh, yes, quite well. It's off Mr Stone's suit.
I cleaned it the day Mr Stone was...
You did, eh? What time did you bring it
to Mr Stone's apartment?
I took it up to him myself that night
at 8:00.
The night he was stabbed?
Yes, sir.
At 8:00.
And the fire was at 9:00.
Yes, sir. Are you...
Are you a detective, sir?
I'm beginning to think so. Much obliged.
Come on, Toots.
Would it be violating a confidence
to ask you to tell me what we're doing?
Smelling out a murder.
Come on.
I want to apologize for being so insistent
upon seeing Mr Chinard.
But I'm hot on the trail of something
and I need an educated smeller
to help me out.
It's quite all right, Monsieur.
How can I be of service to you?
Will you take a sniff of this and tell me
what you can about the perfume?
It's a very fine, expensive perfume.
Not a standard brand.
It's an individual creation.
Very feminine.
Did you blend it?
No, but whoever did is a very
fine parfumeur.
It's heavy without being soggy.
It has a distinct personality.
In other words, it might have been blended
to reflect the personality of the woman wearing it.
Undoubtedly.
What sort of woman?
Naturally, I cannot be certain.
But it's the kind of perfume I would blend
for very dark, decidedly Latin, type.
That's the clue, dark, Latin type.
Of course I cannot be certain
about the Latin type.
But I know the woman for whom
this was made is a decided brunette.
Well, thank you, Mr Chinard.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate
your sticking your nose into my business.
Not at all. Well, I'll be on my way sniffing
and barking after this dark, Latin type, Elisa.
When I get her on ice, I'll guarantee you
a feature story
that won't do your business any harm.
Mille fois, merci, cher monsieur.
Thank you very much.
Where to now?
Hold your horses till I find out.
You look like a canary who swallowed
the cat for an owl.
Why not? I just found out the mysterious she
was with Stone the night he was stabbed.
For the love of Mike, who told you?
Who told me? Look...
The tailor cleaned that suit and brought it
to Stone's apartment at 8:00, didn't he?
Yeah.
Coming from the cleaner's it couldn't have
smelled of perfume, could it?
No.
The perfume permeated the clothes
between 8 and 9.
He was stabbed between 8 and 9
so the woman must have been with him, right?
Right.
How can I photograph a smell?
Some of your pictures have come
pretty close.
Is that so?
Yeah, give me that list of women.
Here.
Here, you take one of them.
Go through the list and pick out all the French,
Italian and Spanish names.
Could you use a Swede?
No.
Too bad, there's one here.
I got one. Inez Cordoza.
I got one, Florabelle Martelli.
We'll try her first.
Hey, straight ahead.
Right.
Lovely day, or am I wrong?
Are you Miss Florabelle Martelli?
Oh, me no understand.
Je ne comprend.
Say "oui" and see what happens.
Mademoiselle, est you Florabelle Martelli?
Savvy? You know, Florabelle Martelli?
Oh, one moment, Monsieur.
Bill.
What's the matter, Sug?
There's a couple of slugs here
trying to put the "b" on me.
Oh, yeah?
That's the first ape I ever saw
with a shave.
What's it all about?
What's it all about?
You tell him what's it all about.
If we're gonna buy the building,
we oughta find out who lives here.
That's good, that's very good.
Nice seeing you.
Get outta here...
You're all right, doll, I saved you.
Well, that takes care of Number One.
Here we are. 306, Brenshow.
This is what?
306, Brenshow.
Good day, Madame.
Is Miss Conchita Ranal at home?
Who are you?
We're friends of Miss Ranal.
Oh, is that so?
Well, maybe you'll pay me the forty bucks
she owed
when she scrammed to Hollywood
last week.
We don't know her that well.
That takes care of Number Two.
Brookhaven Apartments.
No, sir, I'm very sorry.
There's no bookmaker here.
This must be the place.
Yes, sir?
Pardon me, I'd like to talk with
Miss Marie Dacosta.
Miss Dacosta? Why, she's been dead
seven months.
A perfect alibi.
We don't wanna see her, then.
No, that takes care of Number Three.
That's right.
Come on.
Now listen, Joe...
just because I go out with you socially
is no sign I'm gonna introduce you
to my friends, and that's that.
I beg your pardon...
Forget it.
It's forgot.
Say, we're looking for some information...
Do you know...
No.
Say, I didn't get in till 6 a.m.
So what do I do? I turn up my eyes,
hop into a new dress and I'm all right.
How do you feel?
Terrible. But I'll get okay.
Say, I wonder if either of you two
could tell me if Miss Inez Cordoza is about.
Oh, Inez left the show about a month ago.
And where is she now?
She moved.
I know that because I called her this morning
to get the dope about her boyfriend's
murder.
They said she'd left.
Oh, Stone was her little playmate, eh?
Say, what are you, a detective?
Aw, with a pleasant face like mine
and dainty little feet like that?
No, sister, I'm just a reporter trying to gather
a few morsels on the Stone case.
And if you girls can contribute any,
I'll pay off with some good publicity.
Oh, well, I'm Mae LaRue,
M-A-E.
Put that down, too.
Okay.
My name is Olive Wilson.
Got that, too?
Got it. Got it bad.
Now, my beauties, tell me all you know
about our little Inez.
We don't know much, except that Stone
was awfully crazy about her.
She was for him, too.
That is, until Coulter came along.
Coulter?
You know, Maitland Coulter,
the bigshot polo player.
You'd think he just got out of the Navy,
the way he went for her.
Well, I can't tell you how much good
this does an old man's heart.
By the way, Inez didn't leave an addresses
or handkerchiefs behind her, did she?
No, she took everything.
Inez was like that.
Oh, she left a slip hanging on the rack
in my dressing room.
But I don't see what good
that would do you.
Well, get it for me, will you?
Sure.
Did you see Mr Stone after he was dead?
Yeah, but not to speak to.
Was there much blood?
How high was the blood, Toots?
Oh, up to my knees...
but then, I'm a tall man.
Gee, I don't see how you reporters
stand it.
We usually wear boots.
Here it is.
Thanks.
Hold it.
Give it to me.
The mysterious she is Miss Cordoza,
Toots.
Thanks, girls, be seeing you in the press.
I'll fix you up a nice picture with my
soft focus lens.
I wish I had Inez in that slip,
I could get a lot of good angles.
Hello. Give me Mack.
Mack? It's Curt.
Hold the four star for a stop press.
And get me a photograph of Inez Cordoza
and Maitland Coulter.
Yeah, get them at the morgue
and send them down to Central.
Have I got something?
Say, listen. I've got a story
that will curl the hair on an eggplant.
Sorry, you'll just have to sit there
and munch your nails for another half hour.
Yeah, and then I'll be along with her.
So long.
Hi, Mr Devlin.
Hello, Bill.
Here are the photographs you sent for.
Thanks.
Well, how is the future Mrs Devlin?
Fine, how is the disappointed bridegroom?
Oh, aimless, just aimless.
You don't need me for a minute, do you?
No.
That's what I thought.
Have you seen the Lieutenant?
Anything new?
Not much.
I can save you a trip in there, though.
They found an automatic in the apartment,
but no knife.
The gun hadn't been fired.
The houseboy testified
that someone had been to the apartment
about 8:30 just before the fire.
I suppose you made some startling discoveries.
No, I'm afraid you'll have to marry me
out of love and not defeat.
Maybe, but not till you admit
I'm as good a newspaperman as you are.
Let's call it a draw right now and not talk
about it anymore.
No. I made a bet with you on this Stone case
and if you back out now you're a welcher.
Will you have dinner with me tonight?
Meet you at the room around seven.
Listen... meet you at the room at seven.
Bye.
Bye.
Well, by God, a monkey in a zoo
has more privacy than I have.
Hi, Chief.
Hi, Lieutenant.
Well, Devlin, what do you want?
Is the negro houseboy and that flatfoot Hallohan around
who saw the mystery man out of the fire?
Yeah.
Well, get them in.
You wanna put on my uniform, too?
Hello. Send Hollahan and that Johnson boy
in here.
Well?
A girl by the name of Inez Cordoza and Maitland Coulter
were with Stone the night he was stabbed.
Coulter and Stone had been quarreling
over the girl. The girl has disappeared.
Is this one of your flights of fancy
or are you talking turkey?
If Hallohan and Johnson can identify
this picture, I can prove everything.
If they can,
you've saved me an awful headache.
If they can't, I'll give you one.
Here you are, Lieutenant.
There...
Stand right there and look at this.
Who's this?
That's the fellow I saw with Stone
on the night of the fire.
What about you?
I don't know his name, but I've seen him.
That's the man that asked for the number
of Mr Stone's apartment the night of the fire.
That's just what I thought.
Hold him, I want to talk to him.
All right, come on.
Lieutenant, it's a pleasure to see you work.
Thank you.
Give me the Homicide Bureau.
Mike, pick up Coulter.
Suspicion of murder.
Yeah, Stone.
Wait a minute...
See if you can find a dame by the name
of Inez Cordoza.
Same charge.
I haven't got a picture of her...
Yes, you have.
Wait a minute. I was wrong,
I have got a picture of her.
Curt Devlin just gave it to me.
I'll send it right over.
Now you gotta do me a favor.
I'll buy you a drink,
but I won't read your darned Express.
I want you to keep this mum until I get
the story on the street.
Yeah. Look in your pocket
and see if you can find Inez.
I'll look in my other suit. So long.
I repeat, Lieutenant, smooth work,
smooth work.
Thank you.
One look at this when it gets on the street
and every editor in town
will be picking up his pencil
and sneaking out the back door.
Do I get a bonus?
Sure you do.
How much?
Oh, don't be mercenary. Besides,
that's not my department.
Well, do what you can. Every little bit counts.
Well, I got a date.
With that soppy over at The Star?
Yep. Now, don't tell her anything.
Will you please not?
This is one time she won't get anything
out of me.
That's what Samson said the night before
he woke up without his hair.
Oh, well, so long.
Hi.
Hello.
Two more.
yes, sir.
Gee, I like you.
I'm sort of fond of you, too.
I don't know why.
Maybe it's because you remind me
of an Irish Terrier I once had.
Smart dogs, Irish terriers.
Oh, this one wasn't.
He bit me.
All of which goes to prove that us
Irish terriers will stand just so much.
Which reminds me to tell you that
you're all through playing newspaper.
You're gonna get off that sheet
and marry me.
That's right, when you admit
I'm as good a reporter as you are.
Hey, listen, I'm sick and tired of humoring you.
You're not a reporter and you never
have been.
You're just another dame hanging around
a newspaper office getting in people's way.
In fact, you don't even know
when you've been taken to the cleaner's.
So that's what you think of me.
Yeah.
Read that.
All right.
You win.
Where are you going?
You forgot to find Inez Cordoza.
I suppose I'll have to do it for you.
To women.
They're what gods are to science.
A pain in the neck.
So I said, cold, but ladylike, I said...
Mr Trumbull, if you're trying to gild this lily,
this lily is gonna put her shoes on
and kick you right in the teeth.
Come in, we're decent.
How do you do?
We do all right.
I'm Ellen Garfield, of The Star.
Another one, you're the seventh.
Could you give me some information about...
Oh, we know, Inez Cordoza.
Let's go into the routine, Mae.
We don't know where she is.
She moved when we called.
Coulter and Stone had a fight over her.
And all that she left here was a slip.
A slip? May I see it?
Sure.
Dig up the slip, Mae.
I'm getting a sore arm doing this.
Thanks.
Of all the slips Inez made
since she was sixteen that's the first
one you reporters have given any attention.
Now this is going to be a help.
What are you gonna do?
Copy the laundry mark.
How do you like that? Copy your laundry mark.
That just goes to show you what publicity
will do for you.
Before Stone was dead she could have been
tattooed and nobody would have copied it.
Hiho!
I found out that the police have a record
of every laundry mark in the country.
So it wasn't very difficult.
Yes, Miss Garfield,
this is one of our laundry marks.
And you're very fortunate.
It's a rush job and it's to be called for today.
The perfect definition of a lucky break.
Would you do me a favor?
Certainly.
Do you suppose we could arrange a signal?
Let me think.
What can we do?
Wait for me, I'll be right out.
Hey, wake up.
Rip Van Winkle, wake up.
What's the matter... Yes, m'am.
See that taxi over in front of the
French laundry?
Yes, m'am.
When he pulls out, you follow him.
And there's $10 in it for you
if you don't lose him.
For $10 I'd follow a cow on a Ferris Wheel.
Get ready, here he comes.
48, Kingston.
Hey, buddy...
I don't know whether you care or not,
but that hack back there has been
following us for the past eight blocks or more.
Can you make out who's in it?
I'm not sure, this mirror is pretty bad.
Looks like a girl.
Want me to lose him?
No, pay no attention and go to the
address I gave you.
I could lose him so fast they'd think
we vanished.
Mind your own business and go
where I told you.
Okay, customer's always right.
Say, what is this,
a game of follow the leader?
What are you talking about?
We're following the guy ahead
and there's a guy following us.
It couldn't be who I think it is,
or he would be in front of us.
I hope you got a permit for this prey.
I've got everything but a police escort.
You know, Toots, women hand me a laugh.
You take my little Ellen up there.
She thinks she's putting one over on me.
Yeah, cute little Ellen broke that
Stone in the hospital story over you
like an egg.
I say, you never see the blood
until your throat is cut.
Say, Miss...
You want me to shake that guy behind?
Shake him?
If it's who I think it is, I'd like to shred hem.
It's more important that you follow
the car in front of us.
You wait here.
Hey, buddy, you can't park here,
you know better than that.
We know it... Press.
That's all I got. Move it Joe.
Inez. Inez.
Yes?
Robert, what is it? What's the matter?
Oh, nothing, I just hurried, that's all.
What?
Oh, I just dropped in for a minute, I...
I can't stay, really.
Oh, yes you can, get in there.
Please, don't point that.
Robert, who is she?
She's a fly cop, sis.
You've got me all wrong.
No, I haven't.
Now you sit tight and keep your mouth shut
or you'll go back to headquarters on a slab.
I'm not a cop, I'm a reporter.
You've got to believe me.
I'm the only one that knows you're here.
Won't you tell me your side
of the story?
I haven't any story and I'm not guilty.
Then let me tell them if you're
not guilty.
Don't you realize every day your story
goes untold
the more people are convinced
that you did kill Marvin Stone?
You're just wasting your breath.
Can't you see I'm trying to help her?
Yes, you'll help her to the pen.
Won't you believe me?
Shut up, if you know what's good for you.
Sis, if the newspapers are after you,
you can't wait until tomorrow,
you gotta leave tonight.
What about the tickets?
Don't worry about them...
I think I can get you out on a fruit boat.
Here's your things, start packing.
All right, I'll pack.
Right away.
(You stay right there.)
And you're gonna stay locked up
here with me
until she's outside of the limit
and well under way.
Did you get it?
Yeah.
Let's go.
So Inez is your sister.
Yeah, what did you think?
Is she is your sister,
why don't you let me help her?
I told you to shut up.
That's right, you did, didn't you?
Yeah.
If it's not going too far,
could a lady ask for a cigarette?
On the desk.
Thanks.
Hello, Pier 108?
Get me Mr Moorehead.
Inez has good taste.
What?
I mean, I like the place.
Get away from that window.
You're just trying to fast talk her
into walking into something
so you can get a story or make a pinch,
whatever it is.
Hello, Phil?
This is Bob Cordoza.
Listen, Phil, you've got a fruit boat
leaving tonight, haven't you?
I want you to do me a favor.
Yeah, I want you to take someone
with you.
The curtain! Quick,
it'll set the whole place on fire.
What? Wait a minute, I'll call you back.
What's happened?
What's the matter?
Quick!
All right.
Okay, don't get excited...
How did it start?
Robert?
I guess it was that...
Now both of you stay where you are
and do as I say.
You're gonna tell me your story
whether you like it or not.
But I'm innocent, I tell you.
Well, if you are, you're certainly playing it
as if you were guilty.
If you are, with this I can clear
you in spite of yourself.
I'm not kidding.
This story means a lot more to me
than just a newspaper story.
Well, sis, I guess we gotta play ball
with her.
There's nothing else we can do.
What time does that fruit boat leave?
In about 45 minutes.
Are you sure this Cordoza dame
is coming down here?
Positive. I've got the story all set up.
As soon as Toots gets a picture
of you making the arrest
I'll get the plates in and
be on the street in half an hour.
Watch out for her and keep
out of sight.
Say, are you gonna leave that gal of yours
up in that flat
looking down the barrel of a gun
all night?
You're darn right.
I'm gonna teach the future Mrs Curt Devlin
once and for all
that a woman's place is in the home.
This story's gonna make you look
awful bad.
After tonight if anybody rattles a newspaper
at her she'll run screaming from the room.
Yeah, after you with a butcher knife.
No, not her. She's a good sport.
You know, we made a deal
that if I topped her in this story,
there'd be a wedding.
Say, how'd you like to be best man?
Well, I don't know what else I coud be.
I'm too old for a flower girl.
Here she comes.
Get out of sight!
What did I tell you?
Boy, you oughta be a crystal gazer.
Wouldn't he look keen in a turban?
Get set.
Use a match.
No thanks, I don't smoke.
There she is, boys. Come on.
Bring her up the stairs.
Turn around so I can get a shot.
You're under arrest. Both of you.
Wait a moment till I get a statement.
Well, I'm a dirty so-and-so.
A statement, gentlemen? Why, certainly.
You may quote me as saying Mr Curt Devlin
has put the long arm of the law on a sling.
Miss Inez Cordoza was discovered
by The Star representative
and she will introduce her to the D.A.
in the morning.
To further substantiate my statement,
you may read her exclusive interview
in the latest edition of The Star.
Reporter finds Inez Cordoza.
So a woman's place is in the home,
is it?
The wrong dame, eh?
And I was set for a big surprise.
You got set and you got surprised.
It worked out a little differently,
that's all.
Life's like that.
It was a grand job and I'm proud of you.
Well, I'm not. I feel as though I played
sort of a dirty trick on you.
Aw, forget it.
It's a tricky business, tidbit.
And you did all right.
You're swell, Curt.
Gee, I'm crazy about you.
Honest?
Honest. And I'm gonna cut your throat.
Don't forget
what went on under your chin tonight.
Just luck.
Oh, so when I do the top thing
it's luck.
But when you do it,
it's because you're a topnotch reporter.
When are you going to marry me?
When you top me on this story,
which means I'll probably die an old maid.
Now listen!
If Miss Cordoza wants to give you stories
or pictures, that's her business.
But you've got to wait.
Thanks, Joe.
Okay, Miss Garfield.
Now, listen.
When the D.A. questions you
just as you were all the other witnesses today
tell him the truth.
There's no use trying to protect Coulton
because you don't know anything.
The most important thing to do
is take care of yourself.
I suppose so.
Anyway, I'll do as you say.
You've been awfully kind, Miss Garfield.
Don't worry, it's not entirely unselfish.
I want this to be an exclusive story.
Promise me you won't say anything
to those news belchers out there?
All right.
The story is mine
and I mean to keep it that way.
Will you step in now, Miss Cordoza?
I'm sorry, I can't let you in on this.
You'll have to wait out here.
Oh, I can't stand it.
Miss Cordoza, Mr Devlin.
How do you do.
Sit down, won't you, please?
There's a cigar in the humidor, Curt,
help yourself.
Thanks.
Thanks.
Now, Miss Cordoza,
I want to know just what happened
on the night Stone was murdered.
You're on the Coulter case,
aren't you, matron?
Yes.
Will you come in so we'll fix up
your card?
Listen, Joe...
You gotta do me a favor.
Take me in that room with you.
You're out of your mind.
You know I can't do that.
Joe, it's a matter of life or death.
Nespapermen are bad enough,
but newspaperwomen... Listen.
I'm out for promotion.
Well, you're talking to just the right girl.
I've got a friend that will fix it up
with Chief Nelson.
You'll have gold stripes in your sleeve
in a month.
I can't do it.
You just got to, that's all there is to it.
And then? Go on.
Well, I went to Mr Stone's apartment
for dinner.
When I arrived, Mr Coulter was there
and Mr Stone was ill.
The room was in disorder and there were signs
that there had been a struggle.
I asked questions
but they passed them off by saying
Mr Stone had been ill all day
and he'd been drinking.
He often drank too much.
And he had a violent temper
so I said nothing more about it.
Stone seemed to be suffering a lot
but he wouldn't let us call a doctor.
He said he'd be all right and while
we were arguing fire broke out.
Naturally we got out of the building
and Coulter put Stone into a taxi.
That's all I know. Everything, I swear.
Why didn't you come here at once?
I was afraid Coulter might be drawn in.
He's in all right. Up to his neck.
But he's innocent, I tell you.
Innocent. Don't you see that he is?
Please, Miss Cordoza, no hysterics.
You may go now.
The matron will stay with you until
the trial is over.
Send in the Japanese houseboy,
will you?
Yes, sir.
George, will you help Miss Cordoza
through that line of reporters?
With pleasure.
Thank you.
This way, Miss Cordoza.
Hold it! Thank you, Miss Cordoza.
A beautiful soft-focus picture.
You have no right being in here.
Take care of Miss Cordoza.
Those guys would photograph a hanging.
Well, that didn't help us much.
No.
How do you do, everybody?
Hello, Fuji.
Fuji, are you sure you don't remember
seeing a knife
the day after the night Mr Stone
was stabbed?
I no see knife.
Even when I remember with
my imagination.
Tell me exactly what you did
the morning after the fire
when you came into Mr Stone's apartment.
Women.
Be quiet. I don't want to miss
a word of his testimony.
First I open door.
Then I say: tsk, tsk
when I think Mr Stone has been
drunk again.
Then I reach down, pick up mail
on the door.
Go to kitchen to cut open the envelope
both side and top like Mr Stone like envelope cut
when he read in the morning.
Then I notice sand, ash and blood in pieces on floor.
I get the vacuum and suck up.
Then I get the breakfast
Put it and letters on tray
and knock on Mr Stone's sleeping door.
He no answer.
I open, he no in bed.
I sit.
Pretty soon, boys come
say Mr Stone he shot in his stomach
with knife.
All right, Fuji. That's all.
Thank you very much.
Thank you. Thank you very too much.
Thank you. Thank you very too much.
We're in for it. We can indict Coulter.
He's laying out.
But we're gonna have the devil's
own time convicting him.
Why, it looks like an open and shut case.
Open and shut, my hat.
Stone was stabbed and the jury
is going to wanna know with what.
A man who brings a gun to commit
a murder doesn't bring a knife, too.
A man who thinks to bring a knife
wouldn't forget and leave his gun
in the middle of the floor.
To build this case, we've got to have
exhibit A.
The instrument with which the murder
was committed.
And we haven't got it.
And if you don't find it, the defense will nail
your hide to the courtroom door.
If there's anything I can do,
you'll let me know, won't you?
Thanks. I'll see you later, Devlin.
Why, hello, Miss Garfield. You know Mr Devlin?
He's helping us with this case.
And thanks for your cooperation, too.
Oh, I'm always willing to cooperate.
In fact, as you're up for reelection,
do send me a handful of your
campaign buttons
to hold up my little brother's trousers.
Cute, isn't she?
There you are.
You know when you smile like that
you look like a very sick cat?
Sorry, tidbit, but I seem to be able
to get in everywhere.
So can a Jersey mosquito.
But they make better company.
You're wrong, tidbit.
Sorry I couldn't include
you in that conference, but you know...
Don't you worry about me.
I don't think I missed very much.
Well, you never can tell.
What are The Star's views?
Well, we think the D.A. is going to have
a very hard time
getting a conviction without that knife.
That and the fact that Inez testified
that Stone was ill when she got there
suggests a third party.
And a reasonable doubt, which I have
a hunch the jury will give him the benefit of.
Very good, but er...
Well, I guess the longer you're associated
with me the smarter you get.
By contrast...
Yeah, listen...
I was gonna cut you in on something, but...
That sounds like bacon
for some other sucker, not me.
Well, it sounds like a crazy hunch,
but supposing that knife
is still in Stone's apartment.
But they've been over it with
a fine-tooth comb.
Yeah, but you know, a cop's idea
of a fine-tooth comb is a rake.
It sounds crazy, I know...
But you can't be serious.
There isn't a chance they'd overlook
a thing like that.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
Just another good hunch gone wrong.
Yes.
Say, I got that Cordoza.
Next car, please.
Oh, I'm sorry, I can't ask you in.
I popped her just as she came out.
What a picture. One of those Toots specials.
Never saw anything like it...
Excuse me. Could you tell us
where the Marriage License Bureau is?
Ask him.
Pardon me...
Could you tell...
Scissors, but no knife.
Fuji said when he came in here
that morning
he went out to the kitchen to get
a knife to open the mail.
Why? Because the paper knife
was missing.
Stone was stabbed with a paper knife
that was supposed to fit in here.
That's why we're opening this
bronze bagpipe here?
Exactly. Go ahead and open it.
Fuji said he used that thing to clean up
the morning after the murder.
It looks like you're out of luck
unless I can interested you in some sand.
Sand... say, how do you suppose
that got in there?
Maybe Fuji used this to clean
the spillage.
If he uses that thing to clean up here,
he probably uses it to clean up
in the hall also.
Come on.
I never get a break. How're you gonna
photograph a missing knife?
Anybody that can get in places
as easy as you can
couldn't possibly have come of honest parents.
I should argue with
the superintendent.
Come on.
Grab this and let's take it inside.
What are we gonna do now?
Play in the sand?
If I had known of this, I'd have brought
along a bucket and a spade.
There, let's dump it here.
Reminds me of the beach I went to
one Sunday.
Okay.
Now, let's see.
There she is.
For the love of Mike.
This innocuous little instrument, my friend,
will give the D.A. a thrill and Mr Coulter
the shock of his life.
Some shock, about 2,000 volts.
I can feel us going up for burglary,
this is plain.
Well, fancy seeing you here.
Well, I was just passing by.
I knew you'd be here.
Yeah?
By the way...
the next time you pick a lock,
please remember to take out the hairpin.
It looks neater.
You might have left some fingerprints.
Oh, I see you've been house cleaning.
Did you find the knife?
No, tidbit.
If there's a knife in this apartment
it would take Lady Macbeth to find it.
I told you so. Just another good hunch
gone wrong.
That only goes to prove we can't
have everything.
Couldn't we get out of here before
we have to explain something to somebody
who might be disagreeable about something?
That boy has a very good idea.
Will you tell me how you got in here?
Not with a hairpin.
Good morning.
Good Morning, big-hearted.
Little feverish this morning?
After you cut me in on that story
yesterday? Oh, no.
If you were half the newspaperman
you thought you were yesterday,
you'd have the same story I did today.
Why don't you build yourself a statue
and hold services every Sunday?
Say, are you sure you're gonna marry
that dame?
Positive.
I don't think she is.
Here ye, here ye.
This court is now in session.
On the night of the fatal stabbing
Coulter called upon the deceased
and quarreled with him.
Hence, we have opportunity.
Coulter, a man who never before
had been known to carry a revolver
carried one that night. Because, gentlemen,
there was murder in his heart.
True, Stone was not shot, he was stabbed
by a paperknife within easy reach
on a table.
Swell angle.
The next day the gun was found on the floor.
The room gave evidence of a struggle
and the paperknife was later found in an ice receptacle.
Why? Gentlemen,
because this is what happened.
There was a quarrel, Coulter drew his revolver,
in the struggle Stone knocked it
from his hand to the floor
then Coulter snatched the paperknife
from the table
and plunged it into the man he hated
to commit the crime for which he came.
Murder!
Gentlemen, premeditated murder.
A crime of which the people demand
you find him guilty...
in the first degree.
The Court is adjourned.
You think they'll convict him?
Take it easy, boys, take it easy.
I got some swell stuff, Curt.
I got a soft-focus angle of him that's terrific.
Shut up.
Well, I'm just interested in my work.
Hey, give me the desk.
This is Devlin speaking.
Get this.
As the jury file passed, Maitland Coulter's eyes
peddled each member for his life
On the face of one he saw pity,
on the face of another condemnation.
All the rest were enigmatic.
What were behind those ten faces?
Freedom or the electric chair?
And listen...
Rewrite that while you're whistling
Hearts and Flowers softly
and you'll get the idea. So long.
Have the doors closed behind the jury?
Period. Paragraph.
Come on, I got something on my mind.
There are two ps in "opportunity."
Some day I'm gonna buy a flit gun
and shoot you dead.
I think I'll cut you in on something.
The way you did yesterday?
No, thanks.
Sure?
Positive.
Okay.
Hey, Toots, ask your camera to come along
and bring you.
We may need a tripod.
Funny, huh?
Better come along,
I'm sure I got something in the bag.
I know that bag. I held it yesterday.
Close the door.
What game are we playing now?
Broom closet, that's it.
Something tells me this is the beginning
of something that's gonna end up in trouble.
Come on, let's beat it.
Say, what the...
You stay here and try to look nonchalant.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Not guilty.
Guilty.
Not guilty.
Not guilty.
Not guilty.
Not guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Guilty.
Seven to five.
Gentlemen, we now stand 7 guilty,
5 not guilty.
He's guilty!
The judge said if there was
a reasonable doubt...
Reasonable doubt? There's no doubt
in my mind but that he's guilty.
He was there. The night. The gun.
Now listen. I won't be influenced, gentlemen.
I'm trying to do the right thing.
Wait a minute.
Who are you?
The janitor.
Just what I've been looking for.
What a man! What a man!
The most interesting profile I've ever seen.
I'll put your picture in the Sunday papers.
"The Man Behind the Broom".
Hold it!
You're gonna take my picture?
I got it. You wanna take a nip?
Sure. Thank you.
Skol!
No, no, the light's bad in here.
Let's go out in the fire escape
where there's a beautiful background.
The stars, the moon...
But it is dark out there.
All the better.
If that jury don't come in soon
they'll forget what they went out for.
Maybe they've escaped.
Somebody oughta go and find out.
If that fathead Devlin hadn't dug that knife up,
the jury would have brought in the verdict
not guilty and we'd all be home in bed by now.
Aw, give him a break,
maybe the guy ain't guilty.
This is Hedley.
No, they're still out.
Yeah, just a minute.
Oh, Garfield, that nice man
you work for is on the phone.
Thanks.
Hello, Spike.
What?
How could he? He's not a mind reader.
Sure, I'm watching.
I don't know.
Okay.
Well, I'm a...
What's the matter, babe?
Devlin cracked the story in his two star
that the jury on the ninth ballot
stands ten to two for conviction.
Oh, he's crazy.
Sure, there's no way he could find out.
That guy's gonna get himself in a sling crack
with those fake stories.
How would he dare d a thing like that?
That guy would dare anything.
Guilty, guilty, not guilty, guilty.
Eleven to one.
Gentlemen, we now stand eleven guilty,
one not guilty.
Can't you see, now? For the love of Pete.
Are you gonna hang out forever?
I'm doing my duty as I see it.
I don't want to convict the man
unless I'm sure.
Now remember, you're a man of moods.
This time you're dramatic.
Hold it!
This time you're happy.
Hold it.
Come in.
Well, well?
They're still out, sir.
Then I'll go across the street
and get a bowl of soup.
I'd be glad to get it for you, Your Honor.
Oh, no, thanks. I need a breath
of fresh air myself.
And you let me know if those fellows
make up their minds.
Yes, sir.
Do you realize how long...
Will you please come on, popcorn.
You can't hold out forever.
All right, all right. Have it your way.
We can't stay here all night.
I vote guilty.
Come on, boys.
Let's take a final count.
Hello, desk? Devlin.
Hey, you can go to town. Yeah.
Coulter's guilty.
Yeah. Give me a rewrite man.
Thanks. Okay.
They just went in.
Good.
Come on. I got an idea.
What are we doing now?
Find a waste basket
and put all those ballots in it.
What for?
Manufacturing a news piece
for Garfield.
Oh, phony ballots, huh?
Leave the door open.
Now act mysterious and don't notice anything.
Now you take the old Egyptian
tapestries.
The weave is what mattered.
Unlike the modern artist,
the old masters always took their time.
Not guilty. Not guilty.
Three...
Say, what's going on here?
Now, that's exercise number one.
Number two. Keep the right leg stiff
and walk.
Seven... twelve.
Not guilty.
Hello. Give me the desk.
Hurry, it's Garfield.
Hello, Spike. It's not guilty.
What's that?
It's not guilty, I tell you.
The jury's just filed in to give the verdict.
Hurry it up. Please, Spike.
Do you want The Express to top us?
Okay.
Hello. Composing Room?
Coulter's not guilty.
Beg your pardon, sir. The jury is ready
to render a verdict.
Is that so? Well, I waited six hours for that.
I guess they can wait 20 minutes for me.
Tell them I'll be over presently.
Yes, sir.
Extra! Coulter guilty.
Express paper. Read all about it.
Coulter guilty.
Extra. Read all about it.
Coulter's guilty?
Express trailer. Read all about it.
Coulter guilty.
Come on. Open them up.
What do the headlines say?
Coulter not guilty.
Coulter not guilty.
What's this?
Coulter guilty.
Extra! Coulter not guilty.
Read all about it. Coulter not guilty.
Extra. Coulter guilty.
This court is now in session.
Gentlemen. Have you reached a verdict?
We have, Your Honor.
The defendant will rise and face the jury.
What is your verdict, gentlemen?
We find the defendant guilty
of murder in the first degree.
You two are gonna be happy together,
I can see that.
Yeah...
Bailiff, bring that fellow Devlin into my chambers.
Yes, sir.
Beg your pardon, Devlin.
The judge wants to see you.
Let me know what the visiting days are.
Hello, give me the desk. This is Garfield.
Hello, Spike?
Spike, I steered you wrong.
Coulter's guilty.
What? Coulter's guilty?
Well, I'll be a...
Why, you...
Reprint Page One. Coulter's guilty.
Press room. Hold your run.
Kiley talking.
We're gonna replate page one.
Circulation? Taylor speaking.
Hold Page One for a replace.
Call Stacey and kill the whole page.
Something's happened. Stop everything.
Hello, Henderson.
Stop the final.
We're replating page one.
Don't move a thing until I call you.
Transportation. Hold your trucks.
What?
We're on the street with a bum steer.
Grab cabs. Buy every Star you see.
This is the biggest bloomer that's ever
been pulled.
There you are. Now start at Larkin Street
and pick up every final with a Not Guilty banner.
Grab cabs, now step on it.
Remember, here, you fellows over here,
start at Larkin Street and work South.
Here you are, come on, now. All of you.
There. Step on it.
What's this?
Well, you're quitting, ain't you?
Get out of here.
Hello.
Oh, it's you.
Spike, I don't know what to say.
Well, I do. You're fired!
Extra Paper. Read all about it.
Star! Coulter not guilty.
Read all about it. Coulter not guilty!
Give that to me.
What are you trying to do?
All right, son, I'll pay you for these.
Here, here's a buck for you.
Okay, thanks a lot.
Sorry, all sold out.
Is this the latest edition of The Star?
I'll buy the whole bunch.
Come on, boys, clean up.
What happened?
Never mind.
It's all right, Spike. If there's one more copy
of The Star left on the street...
I'll eat it.
Extra! Extra! Star Paper.
Coulter not guilty! Extra! Extra!
Coulter not guilty! Extra!
Here you are.
Thanks.
Here's your change, Miss.
I took out for all three.
Okay, keep it.
Thank you.
Waiter, bring me an old-fashioned,
will you, and hurry up.
Make it two.
Oh, hello.
Hello.
Two old-fashioned, Joe.
Do you mind if I join you?
I'd like to get drunk, too.
No, I don't mind.
I'm sorry for you, Inez.
It's tough, I know.
They're so wrong. He didn't do it.
Well, buck up.
What have I to buck up about?
He didn't do it, I tell you.
He didn't do it.
Well, all right, all right, so what?
Waiter, bring us two more old-fashioned
to the table over there.
Yes, miss.
Come on.
Let's sit down.
It's awfully uncomfortable here.
Okay.
Two more old-fashioned, Joe.
The Express won't assume any responsibility.
You brought this down on yourself,
now let's see you get out of it.
I wash my hands of the whole matter,
and so does The Express.
Great work, kid, congrats.
Now, don't worry, we'll spring you.
And there's another raise in this for you.
Yeah?
Sure.
Mr Hartnett, at least
you oughta get me a lawyer.
Get your own lawyer.
Say, did you have anything to do
with that Lulu that came out in The Star?
Ha-ha, that Lulu was my idea.
Good work. You certainly made a sap
out of that dame.
She's no sap.
Shhh.
In fact, she's the best newspaperman I know.
And I'll tell you something else.
If she gets fired off The Star,
you'd better hire her because if you...
Here she comes.
I'll see you later.
Hello.
Hi.
Well, look who's here.
Aha, and look who's in there.
I'm sorry to have tripped you up
in that yarn.
But after all, you should have known better
than to fall for that stuff.
You needn't rub it in, Curt.
I'm all washed up as a newspaperman.
Fired?
Hm-hmm.
Oh... do you really mind?
No, I guess maybe you're right.
It isn't any job for a woman.
Sure, women are bad newspapermen.
But not too bad, you lug.
"I killed Stone", Inez Cordoza.
Showgirl, fiance of Coulter,
confesses fatal stabbing.
Say, what did...
Just after the verdict I ran into her
in the Caf.
She was shot to pieces
so I went to work on her.
It wasn't very hard to break her down.
The story is briefly this.
Stone was about to kill Coulter.
So Inez stabbed Stone in order to
save her sweetheart's life.
But the knife.
Those were men's fingerprints.
She had on an evening dress.
Long black gloves.
The minute that Inez stabbed Stone,
Coulter grabbed the knife out of her hand.
Then they heard the fire engines.
You'll read the rest in The Star.
For the love of Mike.
Say, that's the way to work.
That's being a good newspaperman.
Do you really mean that?
Well, I hate to admit it, but I do.
Oh, that's all I wanted to hear you say.
Here.
Garfield's last stand.
Hold it!
You can cut out that silly stuff now.
I got the picture.
Well, that takes care of both papers.