Chicago Deadline (1949) Movie Script

Three doors down, Ed. Fifteen.
She has no business here, anyway.
I'll be glad to get her out.
First thing you know, I'll have trouble.
And Ed, don't mention the Rialto.
And don't be noisy.
There's a sick girl next door.
Ed! Do you hear me?
Come in.
How do you do?
It's all right, Minerva.
I just came to take you home.
How did you know my name?
Are you a detective?
No, I'm only a newspaper reporter.
Do you mind.
I'm not going home. I'm going to lead my own life.
This kind of life?
I only came here because it was closer to the station
and I was going to move.
Oh, sure, sure.
My mother's worried about me, isn't she?
A little. She called the Police, the Missing Persons Bureau,
the papers, the animal shelters...
The last I heard she was trying to get the Governor.
Come on now, let's go.
Will there be a story?
Only if the Governor answers.
What's the matter?
Miss Maggie!
Miss Maggie!
Take a good look, Minerva.
You could end up in a place like this, too.
Dead! Lying there, her face all twisted.
I never thought she was sick as all that.
Stop your blabbering.
Ed, get that little brat in the next room out quick!
Ed, Ed, what'll I do?
Call the police.
Oh, dear!
How long has she lived here, Maggie?
Er... five days.
Ever been here before?
Never laid eyes on her.
Hello, Adam.
What are you doing here?
I saw your car downstairs, thought there might be something.
Some dame kicked off.
Yeah? What killed her?
Hemorrhage. TB, I'd say
What's her name, Maggie?
Rosita what?
Rosita Jean something. It's a French name.
You can look at it on the register. It's there.
How long has she been sick?
Well, she was sick when she came.
Find anything around?
Not so much as a letter.
That's funny.
Isn't it?
What's going on, Adams?
You know anything about this, do you?
Now what would I know about Rosita Whosis?
Careful with your hand.
How old do you think she is, Jack?
Twenty-five, twenty-six.
Not much more than a youngster.
Good looking, too, even like this.
Eight years ago she'd have made Minerva look like a dog.
Who's Minerva?
Oh, just a friend of mine.
What happens to her now?
Morgue for three days, unless somebody identifies her.
Eight years...
Funny, I wonder what happened to this one
during those eight years.
I can't get anything.
Nobody ever heard of the dame.
Somebody has to.
Pick a number.
Now, look! I don't know any Rosita.
And secondly, I wouldn't touch her dead or alive
with a ten foot pole.
Now lay off!
Poor girl. Yes, I recall her.
She visited a patient here, oh, some time ago.
She used to come in and see me.
A little dark-haired girl.
A very sweet child. I'm so sorry.
Do you remember whom she visited, sister?
I'm afraid not.
I only remember her because of our talks.
Did you know her family?
No, I don't think she ever mentioned.
Is there anything I can do?
We'll let you know.
Thank you, sister.
Hello, G.G.?
This is Adams.
Adams from The Journal.
We're trying to learn...
How did you get my private number?
If you'll answer a few questions, I might tell you.
We'd like to learn what you can tell us about
Rosita Jean D'Ur.
I can tell you nothing.
I'm afraid that's not quite true.
Why do you ask?
She was found dead this morning.
In a cheap hotel.
If The Journal or any other newspaper connects my name
with this woman, I'll sue them.
Is that clear, Mr. Adams?
Hey, who's the big shot whose initials are G.G.T.?
G.G. who?
Never heard of him, Ed.
Hey, it could be Temple.
G.G. Temple, vice-president of the Ayckroyd Trust.
Get me the Ayckroyd Trust.
Gribbe wants you.
Yeah, okay.
He's a big shot, you know. A foreign handicapped man.
Rough. All kinds of dough...
Ayckroyd Trust.
Mr. Temple, please.
Hey, what is all this?
Mr. Temple's office.
I'd like to speak to Mr. Temple.
This is the District Attorney's office.
Just a moment, please.
Hello, Mr. Temple?
Mr. Temple, we're trying to check on the death of...
Adams, get off the ribbon and go over to the Board of Trade.
Gribbe, when you were younger and not so fat...
There's a rumor that Winchester's resigned.
Did you ever ask clean questions?
What are you talking about?
Here, take a look at this.
Little dark-haired girl who looked so sweet.
How did you ever come to this?
The police are searching today for the family or friends
of a beautiful twenty-six-year-old girl who...
Run a hundred words about the pity of it all.
Doesn't look like much to me.
With the Vice-president of the Ayckroyd Trust in it?
With a nun who said she was a very sweet little girl...
and with a hoodlum who spits over the phone
every time you mention her name.
Put it all together, what do you got?
I wonder what kind of a girl she really was.
Here, Ed.
Where did you get this?
I borrowed it.
I got your Superior number.
Oh, put it on.
Hello, Tommy?
Yes, who is this?
A friend of Rosita's.
I'd like to see you and talk to you.
This isn't the police, is it?
No, it's just a friend.
Is she in trouble?
She died this morning, Tommy.
How did she...
Will you identify the body?
Can you be at the Morgue at six?
Ask for Adams, Ed Adams.
You got that?
Good bye.
I don't know. If you got a story, we probably
couldn't print it anyway.
Don't waste too much time on it.
Hey, some fun. This is a dame.
May I speak to Belle, please?
Belle who?
What's the matter, you got so many Belles there
you need an index or something?
Well don't get so tough about it!
See who this party is.
Hello, Belle?
It's a friend of Rosita's.
Don't you remember?
A pretty dark-haired little girl.
Well, I don't know. Where does she live?
She died this morning, Belle.
That's why I'm calling.
Died? She couldn't...
I can't talk to you now. I have to go out.
Now look, you're not gonna get into any trouble.
I don't know her. I never heard of her.
Leave me alone!
Look, operator...
there's five bucks in it for you if you find out
where Belle is going when she goes out.
I'll be right over.
Hey, there's nobody there by the name of Purdy.
It's a Marcia Grantland.
I can't get hold of her.
There seems to be a party going on.
6900, Albion, apartment C.
N.Y., New York.
Ask what they have on those guys.
What am I, a stooge?
Hey, where are you going?
Out to have fun.
Mandor Hotel.
What did you do to our little Belle, son?
Where'd she go?
She didn't say.
What did you say to her?
She checked out.
How long did she live here?
Over a year.
Take all of her things?
A bag. Will send for the rest.
You must be dynamite.
Yeah, I must be.
I must be loaded.
Why, hello! Come on in.
Thank you.
Are you a friend of Hazel's or of George's?
Er, George, good old George.
Throw your hat anywhere.
Thank you.
We're about to cut the cake.
I wouldn't miss that for the world.
See you later.
Hey, where's your glass?
I just came in.
Well... thank you very much.
Here you are.
Oh, thank you.
Well, it's like everybody showed.
I guess nobody could believe it until they saw it.
I still don't believe it.
Here's to you.
Who are you?
Ed Adams.
Hello, Ed.
Hello, Leona.
Who are you a friend of?
Oh, George has been holding out.
I mean...
Are you looking for anybody?
Marcia Grantland.
It would be Marcia.
Wouldn't it?
You want me to find her?
No, not right now.
Well! Have some more.
Marcia's been holding out, too.
Can't say that I blame her.
She is a bit secretive sometimes.
Yeah, that's true.
I don't think she'd like you looking at me like that.
Leona, darling.
Hello, Janet.
Darling, what do you think about Hazel?
She finally made it, didn't she?
Oh, my goodness! You've just been decorated.
Pardon me.
Let's move out of here before we get trampled.
Where can we go? I'd like to talk to you.
Well, come on.
Do you know Rosita?
Rosita Jean D'Ur.
I little dark-haired girl.
You do get around, don't you?
No, I'm just checking out what you know.
Are you?
Are you, really?
Your face is flushed, baby.
All right. I guess I had it coming to me.
I'm a little dizzy.
I don't get along very well with champagne.
And you shouldn't have looked at me like that.
Well, wait a minute.
Have fun, kiddies. Don't mind me.
What's the matter?
That was Marcia Grantland.
Your girlfriend, remember?
Do you mind?
Who are you, Ed?
I'm a reporter.
Do you want to tell me about it?
You could come along with me.
Why not see where it takes you?
Come on, now, drink your coffee.
Don't you think a dash of brandy would make it
a bit more piquant?
Don't you think you'd better get sober first?
I have been misinformed about newspapermen.
Look, I want you with a clear head
and a working memory.
But I've told you everything I know.
I only met Rosita twice or three times at parties
a couple of years ago.
Come on, drink your coffee.
Well, anyway, as a reporter you're a dud.
Why, I could have gotten much more out of me.
The guy you asked for just came in.
At the end of the bar.
As a matter of fact you should be plying me with liquor
and roosting me up.
Did you hear about Rosita?
What about her?
She's dead.
No, thanks.
That's too bad. How?
I'm from The Journal. We're trying to find somebody
who can tell us something about her.
So we can notify her family. They want to bury her.
I don't know her. But I'll take her to her funeral
if you keep me quiet.
I'll pick you up between nine and ten.
Ed, are all reporters this busy?
Or is it just those interested in dead people?
Ten thirty at the latest.
Then we'll try a little of that roosting up.
See you later, baby.
I wanna see Solly Wellman.
Who are you?
Why don't you stop?
Hello, Solly. I'm Adams from The Journal.
What do you want?
I want to find out where Rosita Jean D'Ur came from.
We'd like to send her home.
What have I got to do with that?
Well, you know her.
Who says so?
She does.
What did she say?
She said: If anything happens to me,
get a hold of Solly. He'll know what to do.
Who did she say it to?
You're a liar.
How do you know?
Try again.
Okay, Solly, I'll level with you.
Rosita's dead. If you give us a lead and identify her...
she'll be buried and sent out of town.
The cops will forget about everything.
Otherwise, if she isn't identified and the body isn't claimed...
they're gonna keep looking.
What killed her?
Hemorrhage. T.B.
All alone?
Sure. There's no trouble about it there.
We'd just like to notify her folks.
She hasn't any folks.
If we were sure of that we'd quit.
How long did you know her?
A couple of years.
Remember the first time you met her?
She was a sweet kid, wasn't she?
One of the most beautiful girls I ever saw.
Seeing her lying there in that cheap flea-bitten hotel, alone.
Who threw her to the wolves, Solly?
That's enough.
Some other time when you check that artillery.
Get those arms down.
I don't know Rosita. I never heard of her.
If I were you, you didn't either.
Drop it. Forget it. She's poison.
Ed, Howard wants you.
Hello, Ed.
What does Howard want?
I can't keep up with a genius like yourself.
But you've done something.
There's a detective and G.G.Temple in there.
Hey, watch out for this for me, will you?
Just in case I get pinched or have to run out of here
too fast to pick it up.
All right, Ed.
Come in.
Oh, hello, Adams.
You know both these gentlemen.
Yes, I think so.
Mr. Temple has just been telling me
about a phone call he had from you.
Yes, sir.
He's also been explaining that his connection
with this Jean D'Ur woman was entirely respectable.
He told the police all he knows about her.
Yes, sir.
Where are you getting your information, Ed?
How did you learn that Mr. Temple knew this girl?
I don't think it's anybody's business how a reporter
gets his information.
There's no crime involved in this case.
As far as I know.
They're trying to identify the girl.
Well, so am I, boss.
It happens to by our business.
And it happens to be mine also.
Your business as I understand it is to write the news factually.
Not a lot of irresponsible insinuations.
I haven't written anything yet, Mr. Temple,
except the simple story of a girl's death.
Do you intend to connect me with this girl?
That depends.
It's obviously factual, as you put it,
that you knew her.
It's also obviously factual that you're scared out of your pants
or you wouldn't be here.
Okay, boss.
Why are you so interested in this girl?
Simply routine.
A kid dies alone in a cheap hotel.
Without friends. relatives or anyone caring
whether she's buried in a grave or in an ash-can.
That's all the story there is to it, at first.
Just a simple little human interest yarn.
Then you start bouncing the corpse down the street
and suddenly you have the whole place all to yourself.
That interests me.
How did you get Mr. Temple's private number?
Maybe he goes around writing it on the walls
of pay stations.
Ed, I know you too well.
You don't fool around with a little thing like this...
unless you've got something.
What is it?
You will tell us, Ed.
Adams, you know perfectly well that The Journal
can't have any part in the withholding of evidence.
I know that, sir.
Unless you really have something.
We drop it.
Simply because this girl once knew a few prominent people...
Se we forget that when you mention the name Rosita Jean D'Ur
people run and hide, check out of hotels...
And we aren't even curious about why they do that.
Who runs and hides?
Anyone I ask about her.
Look at Temple. Why is he here?
Because he's afraid he might get his name might be linked up
with some dame nobody ever heard of?
Don't be silly.
How do you find these people?
I have visions.
Look, Mr. Howard. I don't like privileged people.
And I don't like being kicked around.
So far I've just been digging.
But I'm beginning to get a pretty dirty smell
in both of my nostrils.
Ed, without the paper behind you
you're no better than any other witness.
Okay, if you want to look like the big clown of all times,
go ahead, pinch me.
I'll talk to you later, Adams.
Yes, sir.
Well, Howard, if you can't control this man
perhaps the publisher can.
Boss, that was no act. I meant what I said.
Give me a break, will you?
Stall them until I can talk to you.
Er... I'm afraid I'll have to break the appointment,
Miss Lee.
Yeah, I'm going to be a bit busy here for some time.
Thanks, boss.
It's Rosita, isn't it?
Look, Tommy, I can get names, dates and facts easily,
enough to write a story.
But that's not going to tell Rosita's side of it.
On the other hand, if you talk a little,
I'll give her every break I can.
How about the chance to make her warm,
human, alive?
Instead of a dame with the wrong people.
How do I know I can trust you?
I saw her just a few minutes after she died, Tommy.
She was your sister, wasn't she?
Were you born here in Chicago?
Live here all your life?
No, my father died when we were kids
and we moved away.
Amarillo, Texas.
How did you know?
Is your mother still alive, Tommy?
Have you a picture of Rosita?
This was taken, oh, years ago.
Just before she was married.
Tell me about Amarillo.
There isn't much, we had a little ranch outside of town.
Rosita didn't like it there. She ran away.
She was only about seventeen.
My mother and I were crazy, wondering and worrying about her.
Then we got a letter from her. She was in San Francisco.
She had a job there.
That's where this picture was taken in Frisco.
I went up there as soon as we heard from her
She was a pretty kid, wasn't she?
More than that.
There was something about her, always.
I don't know what it was.
Sort of a challenge to every man she'd meet.
But then, she looked so young...
That's what hit me first when I found her.
In Frisco?
Her boarding house people sent me
to a roller-skating rink.
A big place down in Divisadero Street.
She wasn't hard to pick out in the crowd.
You know how you can spot someone that you're fond of.
She was just eighteen then. She wore her hair like that.
She was with Paul Jean D'Ur.
I didn't know who he was then, of course,
and I was so glad to see her I didn't pay much attention.
I didn't even think until later how she smiled at him,
hung on to his arm like there were no one else in the building
but that guy.
Oh, Paul isn't it wonderful?
I'm so happy it scares me.
Well, suppose being as lonely as you were
you'd met someone else.
It could have happened, you know?
What would have gone on then?
Nothing. A complete zero.
That's my point. Zero, zero, zero.
Stop talking like an architect.
Tell me we're going to be happy.
We're going to be happy.
Tell me everything's going to be fine.
You're the only thing in the world, Rosita.
Trust me.
I do.
Tommy! Oh, I don't believe it.
Why didn't you let me know?
How are you?
Oh, Tommy, I'm fine.
Mom's all right?
Oh, sure, sure.
You're worried about me.
Well, naturally.
Thanks, Tommy. Thanks for coming.
Oh, Paul, this is my brother.
Paul Jean D'Ur.
He seemed like a nice enough fellow
and I had nothing against him really, but...
it hit me hard when she said
they were going to be married the next Sunday.
I don't know why, but I had a funny feeling about it.
Good night.
Good night.
You're not asking me,
you've made up your mind already.
Tommy, everything in the world is tied up here for me.
He's fine and good, I'm sure.
We've talked and talked, I know all about him.
We found that we want the same things.
Remember the fan you gave me?
He painted it for me.
Isn't it beautiful?
He wanted to be an artist. He tried very hard.
But he says he hasn't got it. That hurt him terribly.
I felt so sorry for him.
What's this job of his in New York?
In an architect's office.
He's a draughtsman now, but he'll be an architect.
He'll take Paul on.
we're awfully in love.
We need each other.
Good luck, kid.
She said she wanted an impressive ceremony.
I guess it was. It was a big church.
You should have seen Rosita. She looked like she thought
no one had ever gotten married before.
Well, we piled her into that junk he called his car.
I honestly didn't think they'd make the Bay Bridge.
But it didn't worry them.
They didn't have any money, that didn't worry them either.
Paul did pretty well in New York. I had a job travelling
but I'd hear from them occasionally.
And then...
Paul was killed in an automobile accident.
When was that?
About four years ago.
Did they have any children?
If they had, it might have been different.
Something had happened between them before he died.
I don't know what it was.
She never talked about it.
Then she came here.
But she stayed pretty much to herself.
She had jobs in a movie house, hat store...
But they never lasted long.
Did she usually quit?
There always seemed to be the wrong guy around.
Then she got a job in an art store. She liked that.
She knew a lot about paintings.
I can't tell you any more.
Tommy, it's better than my trying to guess.
No. I can't.
Tell me just her side of the story.
Did you ever see her here in Chicago?
On my birthday.
Always. She'd never forget it.
Even if I hadn't seen her in a year.
What is it?
I was thinking.
Why don't you get married again?
I'm afraid.
I'd like you to understand...
but you can't.
But give me a chance.
When you see a marriage die, Tommy, it's ugly.
When one of you stops being in love,
or whatever you want to call it...
If it could just be snuffed out quickly for you both
at the same time...
But it isn't.
Cut the cake, Tommy.
Then the next time, this year, we were both broke.
We'd been laughing about it.
Until I looked up and saw her standing at the window,
looking at the rain.
It's not going to let up.
Why don't you let me get you a room here tonight?
Rosita, honey! What's the matter?
We're such fools, the both of us.
We're too sorry for people.
Our trouble is we see the other guys' side.
Are we weak, Tommy? Is that what's wrong with us?
Let's spit in their eyes for a change, huh?
Tommy, why are we different from other people?
All I ever wanted was a little happiness
and someone to love.
We'll go away, honey. I'll get a new job someplace.
I'm tired of running away.
That was the last time I talked with her.
But I saw her again. At least I think I did.
One afternoon on the elevated platform.
I didn't recognize her at first. She looked so tired.
I guess she was ill.
But I'm sure it was Rosita.
Hey, Rosita!
She must have heard me.
I don't know. It was like one of those mixed up things in a dream
where everything's in the way and you can't get there.
If she didn't hear me, it was bad luck.
Just a couple of seconds.
If I could have caught up with her,
I might have been able to...
Ed, Peter's holding a call for you through the board.
Never mind.
He said it's important, about a Rosita somebody.
Said to tell you it's juicy.
All right, all right.
Tommy, I'm sorry for her, honestly.
Go on, take your call.
You don't care what she really was.
All she did was die.
Hasn't she even got a right to do that?
Ed? I got Blacky Franchot. He just called in.
You remember him.
Yeah. Big shot mobster, about a year or two ago.
Yeah... Ed, he won't talk to anybody but you.
And he's been down to the morgue to see Rosita.
All right, put him on.
Here's your party, Ed.
Hello, Blacky, this is Adams.
You were asking around about Rosita.
I can tell you about her.
How soon can you get up here?
786, Randolph, apartment 5, second floor.
Twenty minutes, fifteen.
Blacky, this is Ed Adams.
You gotta hold on.
Who did this?
What's this got to do with Rosita?
I loved her.
Who did it, Blacky?
Hello, give me the desk.
Hello, Gribbe? It's Ed Adams.
Where are you?
Blacky Franchot's.
He called me, you know about that.
I was late. Somebody else beat me to it.
They, uh... put a hole in him.
He just copped out.
Langden, get down there.
Boyd, find Paige.
Did he talk?
Well, it definitely links the Rosita dame.
You sure he didn't say anything about her?
I told you no.
Well he coulda. He could've said he was crazy about her...
in his last breath.
Blacky Franchot.
What happened to him?
He was knocked off.
Oh, that's fine.
Get over there. Take the cameraman with you,
and hurry.
Sit right there, Ed. Pig's on his way with a camera.
Hey, here's Langdon.
Hello, Adams.
Hello, Solly.
What's going on?
Somebody just got plugged.
Who was it?
Blacky Franchot.
Do any talking before he went out?
Not to me he didn't.
Where do you want to go?
I was going home to bed.
Without medical attention.
Give me the address.
No, thanks.
It's funny how you keep turning up.
It's hilarious.
How was it you were around back there?
He called me.
How did he know about you?
I haven't the faintest idea.
What did he want?
He wanted to tell me about Rosita.
And he didn't.
What did Rosita have to do with this?
Look, Solly, I don't care how many are killed
or who does it.
Naturally not. You being a reporter.
Was she Blacky's girl?
Blacky's, yours, mine...
I know a guy who thinks she was the greatest kid
that ever lived.
Stone, okay.
I'm gonna find out, Solly.
Nobody likes to hurt reporters, Ed.
You know that.
I'm glad to hear you say that.
Nobody likes to but sometimes a wise guy brings it on himself.
Solly, why do you shake when I mention the name Rosita?
Why does everyone?
I'm not shaking.
You're hiding behind a gun.
For the last time, Adams. Drop it!
Or I'll be the berry.
Let him out, Bill.
Sorry, baby.
I gave you up long ago.
Come here.
No, no, I'm afraid to kiss you.
I feel I'm taking up too much of your time.
Where's your phone?
You mean to say you aren't through working yet?
What you people need is a Union.
We've got one.
Well, who's the head of it, Captain Blye?
Give me the desk.
Hello, George. I know who killed Blacky Franchot
but I can't prove it.
I can't risk telling you.
Yeah, sure, but just give me an idea.
You'd find me floating in the docks of Frisco a couple of hours
after you catch this guy.
Where did you get to, Ed, who did you see?
Nothing doing.
Where are you?
I'm at a place, uh...
gotta shake down a personal witness.
Okay, but stay away from here.
Anstruder's heard about it and he wants to know
how you got to Blacky.
He's getting out a warrant for you.
Give me your phone number.
Nothing doing.
Ed, what's the matter with you?
I'm tired.
Well so am I!
Blacky Franchot was killed?
Ed. Forget about Rosita and that little book.
Fifty-four names.
Each one with a different picture of her.
She was a dame, a saint, a gangster's girl.
And a sister who remembered birthdays.
You're only going to get into trouble.
Blacky Franchot.
Fixed with Blacky Franchot.
How did she fit in?
How does it happen that after she's dead
the guy who's in love with her gets knocked off?
Do you know, Leona?
Do you think she loved him?
Yes, I think she did.
Go on.
Oh, I'm only guessing, I don't know.
Don't lie to me baby,
you know I'm gonna get it out of you.
All right. I knew her. We had an apartment together
when she met Blacky.
He lived on the same floor.
I'd rather you didn't bother.
Get hurt?
I'd like it very much if you'd just leave me alone.
I said I was sorry and I'll explain it if you like.
I'm Blacky Franchot and I didn't remember the name
Rosita Jean D'Ur either
when I saw it on the box, but it bothered me.
Then I remembered Rosita Ditmond, lived out on Franklin Park,
went to grade school.
Blacky Franchot. Edgar Franchot?
The shy little kid, two classes ahead of you.
Mop of black hair.
You don't believe me?
How would I know?
You could have found out some way.
Okay. But is it all right now if I say that I'm sorry?
I guess so.
I've been meaning to come in see you.
But your old shyness held you back.
I've been busy.
But I've watched you come in and go out.
I've seen the jills you go out with.
A bunch of babysitters.
What are you afraid of?
Yeah, I've been worried about you.
Why the name Jean D'Ur?
I was married.
Had a babysitter?
He'd never let a girl like you get away.
He was killed.
Oh, tough.
What are you doing now?
I work in an art store.
Want a better job?
I don't want anything, Edgar Blacky Franchot.
A better job? Or somebody to worry about me?
Or to talk over the nostalgic days of Franklin Park?
Leona. This is Mr. Franchot. We met on the stairs.
He's an old schoolmate of mine.
He says? What have you been doing to find out?
Thanks for the psychology lesson.
And, uh... I'll try to improve the joke.
No go?
I wish you wouldn't.
The delivery boys come at all hours.
This is the first one you brought back personally.
Look, I'm all ready for you.
You like spaghetti? I cooked it myself.
Well, I told Tony how to cook it.
No, thanks.
I'm sorry.
What did you mean the other day when you said I was afraid?
If you'll have one glass of wine with me.
I can explain it best from my angle.
Four years ago I bought a girl a mink coat.
I made payments on it for a year.
I used to stand outside her building nights
just looking up at her windows.
Trouble is I stood there one of the wrong nights.
Since then I've never been pushed around.
You've been going at it differently with those babysitters of yours,
but it's the same idea.
Who is the guy gave you the kayo, your husband?
You couldn't be hurt ever again.
No, not even you.
You think that's good?
I know it is.
So you're not afraid.
If you were through with someone,
you'd throw them away like a burnt match.
That's it.
I don't think I believe anything you tell me.
Yes, you can.
What do you do, Blacky?
I put things together.
Somebody has an idea and needs some money I find the money.
Right now I'm putting together a show.
What kind of show.
Something they call "Happy Days".
Wanna be in it?
No, thanks.
Blacky, who was the Principal of our old school?
There you got me.
How did you find out about me?
A postcard got to my box. What difference does it make?
I could have gone to the same school.
Except that you would have remembered me.
Maybe I wouldn't have stood outside the wrong building.
If you hadn't married the wrong guy.
The spaghetti's getting cold.
If I don't stay, you'll say I'm afraid.
Wouldn't that be right?
Blacky, I think I can prove that you're not irresistible.
She was afraid of him in the beginning, I think.
Funny how a man can frighten a girl and attract her
at the same time.
And he was an appealing guy.
And careful. Never a false move.
At first I thought it was an act.
Like he was trying to move in slowly so no one would notice.
But if you ever saw them together.
Like that night at the Happy Days party...
after the opening of the show.
Solly wants to see you.
Okay, Spingler.
Be right back. Don't get lost.
Where do you suppose they get the energy?
They've been doing that now for three straight hours.
They've been pointing to this for months.
Are you in theatricals, too.
No, I'm in an art store.
Do you model?
No, no. I sell the pictures they hang over sofas.
One large picture or several small ones?
Large pictures are definitely out.
Of course, six small ones will do.
For a long sofa? Otherwise four.
It's also smart to match the color with the upholstery.
There's plenty of room to dance. Would you care to?
Yes, of course.
What do you do with a man like that?
Who has so much money he files it away under M.
And who's idea of fun was to find something he wanted and then
start a campaign to get it.
Rosita didn't know either.
Other than to stay away from him and put the flowers in water
and send the presents back.
Put them out! Put them out!
Go away, please.
Go away, Rosita, I don't want you to see me like this.
Blacky, darling!
Go away, please!
Can I call a doctor.
No, no. You don't understand.
Go, will you!
Go away from me, Rosita.
I gotta get away. I can't fight them.
I'm a buster, Rosita.
We'll both go away, Blacky.
She took him away to some place in the country.
But Blacky couldn't stand it. His nerves were shocked.
He told her he was leaving for her sake.
And he ran.
I was on the road with a show when she came back.
You saw her again, baby?
She wrote a couple of times.
It was a funny letter.
What do you mean?
Well, she didn't say anything at all, really.
But if you read them over a second time...
she sounded so lonely.
All in all, I heard she was doing fine.
With G.G. Temple.
How strange.
Give me some coffee, will you, baby?
All right.
Hiya, Tommy.
How's Rosita, Ed?
Hi, Ed.
Well, Ed, what's new?
He's just gonna read a breakout.
...the old economy security market,
nothing which, of course, is very important to us.
What have you got?
Wires from New York.
Cavanaugh and Bat must be Jerry Cavanaugh
and his fighter Bat Bennett.
They're en route to your city for fight tonight at stadium.
Last mailing address care of Hotspur Shaner...
Give me a couple of duckets for that fight.
These characters are hot.
Written in the book with pencil and it's still fresh.
That means they're the latest entry.
What else have you got?
None of these ever heard of her.
What about Belle Dorset?
Oh, nothing yet, but I got a picture of her.
Look. It's Ronnie Bland. And look who's peeking out
from behind her.
Solly Wellman.
Hey, let's pick me another dame, shall we?
You stick with Belle Dorset.
Yeah, but I'd like one that I can find.
Also I want you to check on John Spingler,
the man with a heart of gold.
He never heard of Rosita, but he's offering to bury her.
Yeah, and somebody else did, too.
Haymes at the morgue got a money order for 500 bucks.
Hey, take pictures for me, will you?
Tomorrow morning.
I want a simple place and a quiet funeral.
No circusing around.
Pig's been taking care of that.
Anything you say.
You can always get Bat to make up a fortune.
Yes, we'll do that.
Mr. Temple!
See you Sunday.
Thanks for the five hundred.
I don't know what you're talking about.
You read where Blacky Franchot was killed,
didn't you?
By an odd coincidence I happened to be there
when he went out.
You knew Franchot, didn't you, Mr. Temple?
Belle Dorset, Solly Wellman...
At least they were at the party you gave
to the Happy Days Company.
You met Rosita there.
I didn't give that party, I was just a guest.
And I don't know any of the people you're talking about.
But I did meet Rosita there and I told that to the police.
I also told them that I'd found her
a cheap grasping little thing who tried to blackmail me.
You're a liar, Temple. You found her to be a girl
you were crazy about.
But she wouldn't have anything to do with you.
Till Franchot was run off.
Now who would you get to do a chore like that?
Solly Wellman?
You know what you are, Temple, and so do I.
We've saved it for a month now.
Too long altogether.
But in the Spring she comes in.
A very sweet little girl.
I couldn't sell it on her.
When was the last time she came?
Oh, five weeks, maybe four.
How did she look? Did she look good?
She was thin, too pale, maybe.
She wanted to see it.
She wanted to be sure we hadn't sold it.
You can sell it to me now, Mrs. Schleffler.
No, this I couldn't do.
You don't believe she's dead, do you?
I read it in the paper.
But you see, I got to have the receipt.
She kept coming in to see it, but she never had
the twelve dollars.
She was poor, maybe.
But no, she was not.
Maybe she is busy.
Or maybe she never thought of it
until things got tough.
When she had to have something to cling to.
So you liked her very much.
I never met her.
Hello, wizard.
What's gonna happen around here?
Why should anything happen around here?
Forty minutes after Blacky Franchot left your dame
in the morgue
he's dead.
What did the dame have to do with it?
Now look, Jack, if I knew I...
You knew enough to be at Blacky's before he went out.
There's only one way that you can cut the lead on us...
Only one way.
You were in her room at the hotel ahead of us.
Oh, Jack, you don't think I would hold out on you,
would you?
You found a diary or an address book there.
I told you I have visions.
You wanna search me?
By the way, have you got a warrant for me?
Could have.
What's he doing here?
Looking at fans.
Yeah, Rosita's fan.
All right!
Now look, Jack...
We're going at this all wrong. I'm after the story of a girl
and you're going after a killer.
I'll do everything I can to help you,
but don't box me in.
If the guys who killed Blacky Franchot find me
trading with you...
you'll have another corpse on your hands.
Somebody's gonna shoot you sooner or later.
Come on.
Where to?
Wherever you'd go if we weren't along.
I haven't any idea.
Then we'll just ride around.
That'll be nice.
I'd like to leave a two-dollar deposit
on the fan, please.
Three, four, five and five is ten.
Thank you, very much.
It's a pleasure.
Where to?
As I remember, 3675, Belmont Avenue.
A gent named Hotspur Shaner.
There may be a resemblance, but I can't be sure,
my eyes are not good.
What did the other girl who lived here call herself?
I don't know what I have to do with this case.
I've read about this Rosita of yours, but any attempt to connect me
with such a person is nothing short of ridiculous.
As a matter of fact we didn't say you were connected.
Mr. Adams knows more about it than we do.
Would you mind telling us her name, Mr. Shaner?
Ellen Ransom. And you you'll find
you can't drag her through your paper.
She was one of the finest young women I've ever known.
And she acted as your housekeeper.
How long was she here?
Not for a month.
She came just after Christmas.
How did you meet her if you say
you can't get out of this house?
I see no reason why I should answer any more
of your questions.
Perhaps you'd better, Mr. Shaner.
You said that the girl resembled the picture.
How did you meet her?
My nephew brought her here.
Would you mind telling us your nephew's name?
John Shaner.
Or John Spingler.
It's quite a family resemblance.
John Spingler runs a bar down in the North side.
I saw him yesterday offer to bury her.
He was down at the morgue to see her.
It's not the same girl.
It can't be, I can't believe it.
Why not?
You knew the real Rosita.
The one the papers are writing about is a phony.
But you are the newspapers. She's what you've made of her.
Public image.
Not mine.
I think I know her better than you do.
That's why I want to write the truth about her.
What caused her to leave you, Mr. Shaner?
I've never known.
I'll get it.
Oh, hello, Pete.
Hello, boy.
Hello, Pete.
How did he get here?
He got another vision.
Sure did.
We oughta be able to use him.
Is this Hotspur Shaner?
What's going on?
What's John Spingler to you?
May I ask who you are?
Peterson, homicide.
I don't understand.
We found your name on a paper in his pocket.
In his pocket?
They picked him up in a ditch a couple of hours ago.
Is he dead?
He certainly looked like he was when I...
Ed! Ed!
Ed, you're a lunkhead!
Could you explain the killing?
...The Evening Mirror bureau, from the blotter, just came in.
Well, add this to it with my compliments.
Spingler was another one of Rosita's friends.
Rosita? You sure, Ed?
Looks like a chain reaction.
A chain reaction? That's good, Ed. What a gal.
You better come in and give us a copy of that book.
Oh, no I don't.
I'll put a couple of men on it.
No, no.
Where are you?
Sorry, but I have to get out of here.
Hang on.
I was fondest of her than anybody I ever worked for.
And now she's dead.
You haven't told me why you left her, Hazel.
It wasn't exactly I left.
She left me on account of that man.
Mr. Temple? You quarreled?
She and him. I knew there was something wrong
the minute they came in. XXX
Why, Miss Rosita!
What is it, honey?
Get out!
But, Mr. Temple...
Get out!
Please, go, Hazel.
Now, tell me again what you think of me.
I can't talk to you.
Where did you go...
Please, don't hit me!
I thought I told you to get out.
But Miss Rosita.
She has locked herself in the room.
You won't be needed any more.
You can go for the night.
Yes, sir.
He was gone when I came back in the morning.
She left me my money then she mailed me my references.
When was that?
About a year ago.
Did you see her again?
After the scream you heard a noise. A thud.
Was it like a body falling down to the floor?
I don't know. It could be. I was so fluttered.
Do you suppose he hurt her?
I don't know.
They're bad stories they're writing about her.
Yes, I know.
Thank you.
Come here, look at this!
Gee, who worked you over, mister?
How's your head?
Looks bigger than Gribbe's.
By the way, Gribbe sent a man over to Hazel.
She's okay. They didn't get to her.
That's good.
Tommy Ditmond's outside. You want to see him?
Yeah, send him in.
Oh, and incidentally, Anstruder's got a couple of clods
out looking for you.
Hello, Tommy.
Nothing I told you meant anything to you, did it?
Look what you've been writing about her.
Dirty filth!
What kind of a guy are you anyway?
Why do you have to do this to her?
I didn't write that story, Tommy.
Don't welsh. Don't be yellow, too.
I've been digging up the facts and running them in.
If they're distorted, blame the desk.
You're making her look like the lowest kind...
You said you were sorry for her.
I am sorry, truly sorry.
You promised.
I know, but she wasn't news then.
Who made her news?
All right, cut me down if it'll make you feel any better.
Maybe I was kidding you at first.
But I'm not now.
Maybe I'm a heel and a rat.
But I didn't start out to be.
I was only following a story from a slant
that anybody else would've.
Now I'm caught in it.
You haven't any idea how tight I'm caught in it.
Tommy, I'm doing everything I can to help her.
Oh, sorry.
You didn't get hurt seriously, did you, Ed?
Not by the mugs, no.
Who's been writing this stuff?
I have, myself.
What have you been using, a paintbrush?
This isn't Rosita.
What is?
That rather brings us to the point.
I'm sorry for not running the paper to please you, Adams,
but if we knew more about the girl, we might probably do different.
Now, George, Ed... I hate to say this...
but George seems to feel that you're holding out.
I have to do it my way.
What about Temple?
What about her relationship with Franchot...
I'm sorry, I have to do it my way.
If you have anything you're concealing,
any leads that we ought to know...
I have a hundred.
I know too much, yet not enough.
When I get it all together, I'll give it to you,
my way.
I don't know what you want. You've got two murders
and a sensational mystery woman.
If that isn't good enough, you'd better get yourself
another reporter.
I'm sick, I'm filled up to my feet with it.
Hey, where are you going?
I'm going to the bar then to the fight.
Oh, Gribbe, if you wanna keep your hands in friction,
why don't you write about the little girl who was beat up
by the vice-president of the Ayckroyd Trust?
Yeah. Thanks a lot.
Seems our dear little Belle Dorset once had a mother
that lived at 3640 West Randolph Street.
Any good?
Rosita's icy fingers reached out from the morgue today
to bring death to...
He's a gruesome fellow, isn't he?
What's your assignment for tonight?
Keep you out of trouble.
You know how?
Find Solly Wellman and stick to him.
Don't let him out of your sight.
That way you'll keep me in good health
and keep Temple home.
Temple? Why are you giving this to me, Ed?
What's wrong?
Just write it from a news angle. I won't.
I'm interested in another side of the story.
Oh, the dame, huh?
But why, Ed?
Maybe because she isn't here to tell me.
You know how it is, Pig. You meet a girl,
she starts to tell you all about herself.
Oh, I don't know.
About her family, what happened to her when she was a kid.
About some guy she was in love with.
Rosita's guy stole the book.
How she was kicked around.
If you care anything at all about her,
you start to see it all through her eyes.
We got a lot of seeing to do, brother.
She was as loose as ashes.
That's not true.
You see, Pig, you're tabbing on circumstantial evidence.
Okay, okay.
There's the story.
Not Gribbe's icy fingers from the morgue,
but the story of a girl who was kicked around because she had
an overdose of sympathy, loyalty or kindness.
Or something. You know, the problem to me is because
I haven't been drinking enough.
Do you mind if I know where we're going?
To the fight, see Bat versus somebody.
You mean you're going to watch a fight?
Yeah, come on.
See you later, Pig.
Ed, haven't you had enough?
Why do we have to go to fights?
I told you. To see Bat Bennett and his manager Cavanaugh,
If my hunch is right, they'll be the last link.
They should be. They're the last entry in the book.
Solo for an unlucky woman winds up.
Honey, what did you take as a sedative
before you met me?
Are you all right?
Did it ever occur to you to get an honest job?
I see what you mean.
Take your seat. I'll be down later.
This way, please.
Bat Bennett?
This way.
Keep away from me or I'll kill you!
Let me talk to you, Bat, come on...
Lay off!
Bat, these guys are like this all the time.
Only one fight away from championship
and I thought I knew fighters.
What's the matter, Jerry? You read the paper?
I told every blockhead in the place
if he got hold of a paper before this fight...
Who are you?
Adams, from The Journal.
Get out of here.
I'd sit down if I were you, Jerry.
What's the idea? I don't talk to any reporters.
I gotta get out there. He'll get murdered.
He was pretty crazy about her, wasn't he?
I don't know what you mean.
Oh, yes you do.
You met her at Hotspur Shaner's.
What gives you that idea?
You wouldn't know about it,
but it's on the same line in the book.
What book?
I said you wouldn't know about it.
He knew her as Helen Ransom, didn't he?
That's why he didn't want him to see a picture of her
in the paper.
I don't know what you're talking about.
He'd get laughed out of every ring in the country.
A wonderful comic character.
You'd better give, Jerry.
I'm gonna get it out of you one way or another.
Look, is money any good in your racket?
No, not now, no.
Well, will you give us a break?
That all depends.
Okay. But now you gotta take care of me.
You know Shaner?
I spent the afternoon with him.
Well, we met the dame there all right.
I've known the guy a long while...
I used to drop in and play chess with him.
But he kept her as a kind of a mystery.
It never bothered me, but it did Bat.
He tried not to show it, but he's about as tough to read
as a circus poster.
Thank you, my dear.
Can I get you a glass of beer?
No, thanks.
Well, good night.
Good night.
Bat, please!
Do you want me to raise a racket?
Bat, this is unfair.
Sure it is. When do I see you?
You don't.
You don't.
Look, why can't I tell that old guy
so I can see you and take you out?
No, Bat.
What gives, anyway? What do you get out of living like this?
I told you before. It doesn't matter.
Look, honey, I don't care if you want to be
a mystery woman...
You can be Joe Sawlings niece, I don't care.
I figure it's easy. Bat's been giving me trouble with dames
and here it is on a platter.
The regular Blue-Plate Special.
He was really daffy about her.
He'd hang around afternoons
and drive her to the stores, just to talk to her.
Can you figure?
It's a perfect setup.
I could handle her. She wouldn't be suing us
or wanting us to marry her.
I'm a wise guy, all right.
So I tell her the story.
She was a funny dame. She didn't say a word.
Just put your hand in the same glove, baby, and believe me,
it'll be a chance glove.
They can't stop it.
And I guarantee it will be well worth your while.
Don't get any cute ideas, though.
I'm running the show.
Any time you forget it...
I talk to Shaner and a few other parties around town
who might want to know where you're hiding out.
And don't tell the old man we talked.
I'll handle him. Trust Jerry Cavanaugh.
So long.
She left Shaner. She wrote him a note that
didn't say much in blue.
It broke the old man all up.
And Bat... well, it worked okay.
But he finally tabbed her for a phony and got mad.
That's when he really started fighting.
Then tonight he reads about her in the paper, that's all.
He blamed himself and he blames me.
Can you figure?
Look! I gotta get outta here.
Look, Adams, you'll give us a break.
You'll fix it for us, won't ya?
Yeah, sure.
Come on, break it up, break it up.
One, two, three, four...
five, six, seven...
Hey, Ed, have you gone crazy?
Where are you?
Hello. It's Pig.
Cut him in.
Ed? Pig just called in. I got him here now.
Hello, Pig.
Hello, Ed?
Yeah, Pig.
You were right, Great Heart.
Pig, for crying out...
Will you shut up, George, and let me talk.
Look, Ed...
I found Solly and followed him.
He met Temple in the suite at the Maywood.
That's where I am now. They talked about 20 minutes.
Then Solly left down the stairs.
So I went for the elevator. While I'm waiting I hear a shot.
So I went back to the room, got in and found Temple...
on the floor with a bullet through his head.
Pig, sit there. Don't let anyone in.
Lock the doors, stay by the phone.
Where are you?
At the stadium.
What is it? What have you got on him?
Temple was financing Solly and his rackets.
Is it proved?
No, but we can blow it wide open now.
Give a tip for me, George.
Police are looking for Solly Wellman.
Last known address, 880, North State.
For the killings of Blacky Franchot and John Spingler.
Are they?
They will be when they read it.
Well, what about Rosita? What have you got on her?
And what was her angle on Temple?
Was Solly using her as a lever on Temple?
What about him?
I'll call you back.
Hey, what's the racket?
Is that him, lieutenant?
No siren. I don't want to catch him.
And keep out of sight.
Hello, Belle. I'm Adams.
Remember? I'm the fellow that called you yesterday
about Rosita.
Didn't Solly mention it?
Yeah, and he mentioned you were trying hard
to get your head blown off.
I'm afraid it's the other way around.
A little while ago when he left the suite of G.G.Temple
at the Maywood Hotel I hear he got careless.
Got run over by a police car, a shot or something.
I didn't have time to get it straight.
You were in such a hurry to let me know.
There'll be a news broadcast in 15 minutes.
How did you find me?
What do you want?
A couple of answers.
Why pick on me?
I don't have anything against you personally, Belle.
Except for your checking out of the hotel like that.
As a matter of fact, I feel very sorry for you.
So many do.
I'm a sentimental guy, did you know that?
I've heard.
And you're in a jam. Do you want help?
Oh, no, we trade first.
What happened between Rosita and Temple
when they broke up?
Who knows? She couldn't stand living such a life.
So, one of Solly's men, Spingler by name,
took her to his uncle's and hid her out.
I don't know what you're talking about.
That's all right. I know most of the story anyway.
I just want to get a few bridges from you.
What do you know about Solly?
I know that he killed Blacky Franchot.
Why would he bother with a drip like that?
He had to, Belle.
Have you any idea how Blacky hated that boyfriend of yours?
You see, Blacky was in love with a girl.
A girl that was going to make everything up to him.
But Solly changed all of that.
You see, Temple had fallen for her.
But it was just that drip Blacky who was standing in the way.
So Solly handled him.
He had Blacky beaten up and run out.
Everything's fine. Solly's in the chips,
Blacky doesn't dare make a move
for fear they'll do something to Rosita.
Fine until he goes down to the morgue
and sees her lying there.
From there on, it's either Solly or Blacky.
And Solly knows that.
He gets there first.
I know how...
You are a sentimental creature, Adams.
What are you? A guy who'd break a girl apart for a buck.
Without enough guts, do your own strong army.
Without enough guts, to stand there and let some monkeys
behind you with a gun.
You've talked enough.
You stupid fool! Get out of here!
I have to go...
I tried to explain, I...
Gribbe wouldn't understand me...
I got... I gotta finish.
Ed, please, don't.
I gotta wind it up... I gotta talk to him.
Belle, Solly, I... Don't you understand?
You'll have to go now.
I know you've arrested Belle Dorset.
That was a fine catch, an unarmed woman.
But what about Solly Wellman? Where is he?
Do you realize one of my men was shot?
Do you think I'm gonna quiddle my thumb while...
Holan can't get a thing out of Belle.
Tell him to stay there until he does.
Send Gorin over. Beat it out of her.
Take it easy, George. We got her all squared up.
We should have him in a matter of hours.
Like Anstruder got him? He walks right out of his hands
and you can't find a trace of him.
What kind of Police Department are you running down there?
A man doesn't just get up out of a hospital bed and then walk out
without anyone seeing him.
Apparently this man did.
But doctor, I told you.
I brought him his breakfast at 7 o'clock
and then half an hour later his friend...
Friend? Pigs, the fool!
The man is out of his senses. He's in a serious condition.
Doctor, please, may I use the phone?
I refuse any further responsibility.
Well? What's the matter with the old Sol?
Why did you tell me they got Solly?
Not till I can show him to you in the morgue.
You're too afraid of him, you know you are.
You'd be too if you had sense.
You hate him, don't you, Belle?
You won't get anything out of me.
Deadly afraid.
All right, come on.
Take a little ride to the funeral parlor.
Oh, no!
Maybe if you see Rosita.
I won't! You can't make me.
You can take her, Pig.
Oh, no, you can't!
If they see me going down there with you,
they'll be sure I've talked.
That's the general idea. Come on.
Oh, no, no!
One or the other.
What do you want?
Not much and I'll keep you in the clear.
You see, they're burying Rosita this morning.
Her brother will be there and a few other people that loved her.
I'd like it fine if I didn't have to lie to them.
Now tell me about the night Temple got drunk.
He talked too much because he always got crazy
when he drank.
He told Rosita what they'd done to Blacky.
She was gonna walk out on him.
Temple knocked her down. He thought he'd killed her.
He got panicky. He called Solly like a fool.
You know what Solly'd do with that.
You tell me.
Temple passed out. Later on, Solly told him he had killed her
then gotten rid of her.
That wrapped Temple up for Solly.
He was such a wise guy.
But he actually intended to get rid of her.
Spingler, he'd always liked her.
And the wise guy was dumb enough to get him to do it.
So Spingler double-crosses Solly,
takes the girl and hides her out at his uncle's.
Solly thinks he's got her out of the way permanently.
He's riding high.
Until she shows up at the morgue some eight months later.
And I start asking questions.
Thanks, Belle.
You said you'd keep me clear.
I will.
Nobody crosses Solly.
Step on it, driver.
Don't turn around!
Nobody crosses Solly.
She meant us.
Hurry it up, driver.
Hey, you know something?
We're like a couple of clay pigeons.
Hey, what's going on here?
Nothing doing. If I pull up they blast.
I'm ain't gonna be no innocent bystander.
Split out the next alley. We'll jump.
You better jump fast, buddy.
You get the cops.
I don't think they'll see you.
Get the door.
Get in there.
Come on, get out of here. On top!
Check that door!
It's locked.
Come on!
How many left?
All right, Adams.
Come on out.
Forget what I said to you before, will you?
Are you gonna finish this?
It's yours if you want it.
I think you're the only one that ever understood it.
Thanks, Tommy.
Are you crazy? Are you trying to kill yourself?
I've been frantic.
Are you all right, Ed?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Take your seats, please.
Please, please, sit down over here.
You must come with me.
You must come back to the hospital.
No, just a minute.
If you won't do it for me, Ed, I know she'd want you to.
You're a good kid, Leona.
Get a car out in front for me, will you?
Are you sure you're all right?
Yeah, I'm all right, but hurry.
Look down upon us, our Heavenly Father,
and in Your tender mercy show compassion for our frailty.
Show those who sorrow here the means to bear their sorrow.
Strengthen the afflicted.
Take into Thy keeping her, whom we knew and loved.