Human Cargo (1936) Movie Script

San Francisco Times. Editorial.
Just a moment, please.
San Francisco Times. Editorial.
Mr Crocker? Just a moment.
I'll connect you.
San Francisco Times. Editorial.
Hello, Walpole.
I was going to call you.
Listen, kiddo.
I found a new fortune teller.
Yeah. He tells your future
by the shape of your head.
He gives you a sort of scalp
massage with his fingers.
Oh boy, and what hands he's got.
When he got to circling round my ears ..
I just tingled with vibrations and felt
that something was in store for me.
Gee, he went over my whole
zodiac and did I get a thrill.
Gee, Walpole.
Bonnie Brewster has been hanging
around all day to see Crocker.
You know, that society dame always on
the front page in automobile crack-ups.
Always getting engaged to some prince or
other who's got an eye on her bankroll.
Talk closer to the phone. You sound
like you got a mouthful of checkers.
What's she like?
She's the Grecian type.
No, not restaurant. Classical.
Yes, Mr Crocker.
Listen, you boondoggle nitwit,
I don't care if he's being embalmed.
You find me Packy Campbell.
Boy. I want a boy.
Get me a couple of boys.
Keep your ears open. Concentrate.
Somebody find Packy Campbell.
We tried everywhere. Nobody's seen him.
- Try the Fire Department.
Put an Ad in lost-and-found.
- Yes, sir.
Get this.
Tell that Brewster dame somebody carried
me out of here in a straitjacket.
Yes, sir.
Sorry, Miss Brewster.
You may tell your Mr Crocker that
I've been bellowed at by experts.
I won't leave until I see him.
Lady, can't you take a hint?
He don't want to see nobody
except Packy Campbell.
Never heard of him.
- You wouldn't.
He's just the greatest
newspaperman in the world.
Mr Crocker, I've been
waiting for three hours.
Alright, wait three hours more.
I haven't got time to see you. I'm busy.
Gee, Walpole.
Is everybody excited around here.
They can't find Packy Campbell.
Packy Campbell.
Don't you know who he is?
He's The Times' ace
reporter and what a guy.
When he walks in,
my eyelids begin to flap.
No, Walpole. Flap.
Like what your Grandpa's got
on the back of his union suit.
Oh kiddo, he's the big
emotion of my life.
He just does things to me.
One minute I feel I was
run over by a steamroller.
The next I'm pumped up like a balloon.
No, not a baboon. A balloon.
Yeah. But he can't see me for dust.
All I get from him is a
red apple on Wednesdays.
You know what you
can do with a red apple.
Hi, Susie. Where you been today?
Where have I been? Gee, Mr Campbell,
you'd better go inside. He's awful mad.
Now is that nice, Susie?
So you want to get rid of me, huh?
- No, Mr Campbell. No.
Where's the bulldog?
- Right here, waiting for a bone.
Hello, Chief. Anything doing?
- Not a thing.
The opposition runs extras
about the alien massacre.
And we sit here playing Post Office.
- Mr Crocker.
Sit down. I'll see you
after the next murder.
Step right into the parlor while
you're still able to walk.
You know. It's your liver again, Chief.
You ought to stick to straight gin.
Campbell, you're fired.
Okay, if it makes you feel better.
But I got a scoop.
Yeah. You and the AP.
And in our own territory.
Every blasted sheet in this
town running our story.
Campbell, you're a great reporter.
Thank you very much, Mr Crocker.
Look here: 'Alien massacre'.
'Motor Cop murdered by
alien shakedown gang'.
'Shakedown agents drown 17'.
'17 aliens dumped into reservoir'.
I phoned you all that last night.
- And I told you to follow up.
You did a disappearing act on me.
What's up, isn't an alien
shakedown big enough for you?
And how. It's the rottenest
racket in the book.
Read that.
'A lone survivor of the immigrant truck
died today in San Reef hospital'.
Alright. Why didn't I get that from you?
Why did I have to get it from the AP?
Why not?
But the AP didn't tell you the real
story because they didn't know it.
Yours truly was the one man on the job
listening in on the deathbed confession.
Send in Hymie.
Give it to me.
- Not so fast.
What did you get?
Just a little snapshot of the
guy that bumped the cop.
Tell Joe to hold the press
and strip out the front page.
Oh boy, this will increase
circulation by 5,000 today.
Hymie, run this in 180 point.
'Survivor names cop-killer'.
- Not so fast.
First, let's nab the killer and slap him
inside. Then we print the real story.
What do you mean? We've a
scoop and you want me to hold it?
I want to nab this killer before
he gets wise we're onto him.
I've a hunch how to find him.
You won't mind, Mr Crocker,
if I take time out for tea?
Take all the time you want.
Take a trip around the world.
Maybe I will.
After I tell Mr McBain to cancel his
advertizing with your little newspaper.
McBain? I thought
your name was Brewster.
McBain is my uncle Danny.
And your biggest advertiser.
Do I get a job or don't I?
Of course, if you want me to tell
Mr McBain you can't oblige ..
Boy. I want a boy.
So did Dad. But he got me instead.
Take this lady to the fashion
editor and put her to work.
Thanks, Mr Crocker.
Cutting out paper dolls.
It's a rotten business. Full of jokers.
Wait a minute.
I just connected that face.
Bonnie Brewster, isn't it?
Yeah. The family is worth millions and
she wants to be a newspaper reporter.
Give me that tip card ..
- She's just what I need.
She'd make a swell
front tonight at the 500 Club.
500 what?
- The 500 Club.
That's where Barreto is hiding out.
He's the killer, Chief.
Here's our chance to get the inside.
Maybe we'll snag the birds
that are running the racket.
Boy, what a story.
Okay on her?
- Go as far as you like.
Here. Buy her an
arsenic cocktail for me.
Alright Hymie, the fire's out.
We go to print.
Boy. Boy, I want a boy.
Hey, cub. I'd like to talk to you.
Meaning me?
- Yeah, you.
We step out tonight.
I'll meet you in the lobby at nine.
Sorry, I have a previous engagement.
You can skip that junior
league stuff with me.
You're trying to crash the
newspaper game, aren't you?
Well, I'm cutting you in on the
biggest break of the year.
You mean we're going on a story?
Where did you think we were going?
To a dance?
I'll be in the lobby at nine.
I don't know when I enjoyed a chat more.
Are all reporters as amusing as you?
I'm not paid for wisecracking.
What's your lowest rate for
pretending to be human?
I don't get your angle.
Are you out looking for a thrill?
If I am, I'm disappointed.
I'm not kidding about this job.
I'm desperately serious, Mr Campbell.
'Packy' to you, cub.
Okay, 'Packy'.
You brought it on yourself.
See, it's all on Dad's account.
Down to his last million and
you're keeping him off the dole.
No. Yesterday he read
the riot act to me.
He said: 'why you're nothing
but a useless consumer'.
'A social parasite'.
'You can't even earn your
own lipstick and spinach'.
Can you?
That's what I'm going to find out.
I want to show him he's wrong.
Why pick on the newspaper game?
Because I majored in journalism.
It's going to be tough on you.
I suppose you think I can't make good.
Don't quote me. I can be wrong.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Now we're here, do you
mind telling me why?
You'll see the first reason in a minute.
Hello Carmen. Heard from Barreto?
I'm making book.
Ten to one, he's parked
in her dressing room.
Probably reading The Times.
Smarter hoodlums than Barreto
have risked the noose for a dame.
Maybe it's love.
Barreto knows me.
If I crashed that dressing-room,
he'd be wise.
So you want me to go
crawling and see if he's in?
Smart girl.
I hate to deal you a handful
of trouble but you bid for it.
What's he look like?
Or wouldn't you know?
One hundred percent ratty.
If he is in there, play drunk and say
you thought it was the ladies lounge.
Hotfoot it right back here. There's a
police net right around the building.
A police net?
I didn't know they wore them.
Can the wisecracks, kid.
You'd better know
what you're up against.
Barreto killed a cop yesterday.
He dumped that truck load of
immigrants into the San Reef reservoir.
He drowned them like rats
to conceal the evidence.
That's his racket. Smuggling in
aliens and shaking them down.
He'd make a ducky fourth at bridge.
What do you say?
You still want to be a newspaperwoman?
Uhuh. Sort of.
Good. How's your nerve?
Which one? They're all
sending in a five-bell alarm.
You can't come in here.
This is the ladies lounge.
Snap out of it, stool-pigeon.
You're no drunker than me.
Where's the maid?
I'll have you put out of here.
Yeah? Wait a minute.
One more squeak .. and I might get sore.
Now tell me.
Who sent you?
Let me go!
Hey. Open up in there.
Don't come in. He's got a gun.
Hold it, Barreto. We got you
covered. Better come down easy.
Step on it. Barreto is in there.
This is Packy Campbell.
Hold it.
Don't forget our deal, Inspector.
I get the exclusive for tipping you off.
It's in the bag, Packy.
I wish he wasn't done.
I'd like to work him over.
Hurt bad, Johnny?
- He just winged me. That's all.
Alright. Get him down
to the ambulance, boys.
You okay, kid?
That was my first K.O.
What happened?
- The cops killed Barreto.
Let me by. I must get up there.
- No, you don't.
Alright Matt, I'll take her. Come on.
Who are you? Let go of me.
Come on, we're going to church.
Just a minute, bright-eyes.
Where do you think you're going?
The party's too rough. I'm leaving.
Sure you are.
The limo is downstairs.
You can't hold me, I'm a newspaperwoman.
- A newspaperwoman?
Where is your card?
- What card?
The license reporters get to poke their
noses into other people's business.
If you want to keep your job
you'd better handle me with care.
I'm Bonnie Brewster.
- That's funny.
I thought you looked more
like Mary Pickford.
Okay Flaherty, hold the
wagon for the countess.
I'm warning you for the last time,
take your hands off me.
Get going sister, before I
help you down the stairs.
Please, you don't understand.
Take it easy.
No-one's going to hurt you. Sit down.
Hello Crocker, get set. It's dynamite.
Barreto bumped off down at the 500 Club.
Trapped in Carmen's dressing-room.
Alright, keep on spilling.
Boy, boy. I want a boy.
Say Crocker.
Have you got a sob-sister
hanging around down there?
You mean the dame that writes
the 'Tell Your Aunt Lulu' column?
Ah, she'll do.
Send her out to my place right away.
Wait a minute, Campbell.
The police want you, Mr Crocker.
Right. Wait a minute.
Rewrite .. rewrite .. Shield.
Say, Crocker. We got a silk and satin
dame here says she's Bonnie Brewster.
Working with Campbell. How about it?
Wait a minute, Sergeant.
Barreto, alien shakedown
agent killed at 500 Club.
Violent retaliation of
underworld feared.
Long sought-for identity of shakedown
leader expected momentarily.
Wait a minute, Sergeant.
Nice work, Campbell.
So you got Brewster in jail, eh?
You tell those vultures
to treat her right.
Spring her the minute the Extra hits the
streets. Give her a police escort home.
Come on, pull yourself together.
Now you lay low here
for a couple of days.
But that doesn't matter.
They're afraid I'll talk.
They'll kill me.
Not while you're with me, they won't.
A friend in need is a friend indeed.
Why don't you ease your
poor troubled heart?
That woman-to-woman stuff is terrific.
Come on, Carmen. Ease your heart.
Nice work, Lulu.
You've talked her to sleep.
I'll be a dog's hind leg
if I can do any more.
Yes, you can.
Stick right here until I get back.
Don't let her out of your sight.
I'm going down to check with the chief.
Maybe he can figure an angle.
I'll be back in a couple of hours.
San Francisco Times.
Hello, Walpole. Boy, am I excited.
Did you read about Packy-pie
being such a hero last night?
Yeah, that's my pet
name for him. Packy-pie.
I ain't so burned up about that
Brewster dame this morning.
He just took her along for a stooge.
And laugh this off.
She spent the night in the
jug and boy is she sore.
She's waiting for Packy now.
Here he comes.
Good morning, Horace Greeley.
- Hiya, Brutus.
So you were going to show me
how to crash the newspaper game.
I didn't mean to land you in jail.
I loved it.
The Sergeant taught me how to play
blackjack and I took him for 7 bucks.
Do you call that a newspaper story?
Ah, you read it, huh?
- Learned it by heart.
Using a girl as a decoy.
Packy Campbell, Times' ace reporter,
leads Officers to Barreto's hideout.
Hymie misspelled my name again.
At least it's in print which
is more than mine is.
For what? It was my scoop.
I pulled it off.
While I amused myself by
getting choked to death.
The least you could have done
was to have mentioned my name.
Wake up little girl.
You're behind the counter now.
Waiting on the five-cent parade.
Behind, nothing.
I was the front line.
I win the medal and you wear it.
On that big, manly chest.
So nice to have met you, Mr Campbell.
I'll see it doesn't happen again.
Ha. So you got out?
Yes, thanks to uncle Danny.
Why bother McBain? We had you
sprung when the paper hit the streets.
Sorry I couldn't wait.
It was way past my bedtime.
You know, Miss Brewster, you ought
to take a day off. You need a rest.
You are positively psychic.
I came in here to resign.
Quitting the game already, eh?
- No. Just starting with a real paper.
The Star News took me on this morning.
Doing what?
- Wouldn't you like to know?
Well, good luck, Miss Brewster.
By the way. Here's your salary.
One day, pro rata.
One dollar.
Eighty-five cents. There you are.
My share of the cab. Keep the change.
Are you sure you can spare it?
- Want a reference?
No, no. Uncle Danny fixed that, too.
Advertizing manager?
What does he want? Put him on.
McBain cancelled his
advertizing contract?
He can't do that.
Wait a minute .. Brewster.
Brewster, wait a minute.
I want to see you. Brewster.
Wait, Brewster. I must talk to you.
You can't do this. It's unethical.
Brewster. You know what
you're doing to me?
You've put me in the doghouse.
You'd better buy a muzzle before
you bark yourself to death.
Boy, boy .. I want a boy.
No. Mr Crocker is busy right now.
Please Mr Campbell, stop talking.
I'm so tired, my head is killing me.
Alright. Then why not spill
your story and be done with it?
Who was Barreto's boss?
I tell you I don't know. I don't know.
I won't say any more.
Give me a cigarette, please.
No story, no cigarette.
All you think of is
stories, stories, stories.
You don't care what you do to me.
Do you remember Tosca?
She said she'd talk.
She'd tell the police how Barreto
took money from her every week.
To let her stay in America.
But she never told.
She couldn't.
Because they killed her.
You're in a spot to save a lot of
girls like Tosca if you'll only talk.
No, no, no.
- Yes, yes, yes!
Look, Carmen.
Here's what I'll do.
You tell me what you know about Barreto.
And I get you across
the line into Mexico.
I'll give you enough money to carry
you until you get another job.
Is that fair?
[ Door knocks ]
They're here.
[ Door knocks ]
Who is it?
Bonnie Brewster of The Star News.
Come right in, Miss Brewster.
Mr Campbell of The Times, I believe?
You know United States district
attorney Mr Joseph Carey?
Hello, Carey. Why the Marine Corps?
Just a friendly little visit.
What a charming apartment.
- Suppose we get down to business.
Where is she, Campbell?
- Who are you looking for?
I don't suppose you know, do you?
Well, I'm no mind reader.
There must be a lovely
view from the bathroom.
Do you mind?
Go right ahead. Make yourself at home.
I thought so.
Carmen, don't be afraid.
We're here to help.
I don't want help. Leave me alone.
- Come on now. We won't hurt you.
What have you been telling Mr Campbell?
- He tried to make me talk but I didn't.
Good girl.
I wouldn't trust him either.
Nice work, Brewster.
That was a swell double-cross.
I'm a very apt pupil.
Which reminds me, Mr Carey.
You promised me an exclusive
on Carmen's story for the tip.
We'll take her over to my office now.
Get your hat, Campbell. You're arrested.
- Come on.
Wait a minute. You can't pull me in.
Take it easy, Campbell.
Mr Carey tells me there's some sort
of law against concealing a witness.
Concealing her?
I'm trying to stop her being killed.
Her life's in danger and you know it.
We're perfectly capable
of protecting her.
Like you did the witnesses on
your last three alien cases.
They showed up in the morgue.
- That's enough, Campbell.
Hello, Star News? City desk, please.
Hello? Hello Mr Blair.
Bonnie Brewster speaking.
You didn't believe me when I
promised you Carmen's story, did you?
I have a big surprise for you.
First of all, I went to see United
States District Attorney Carey.
Then where do you suppose ..?
Hello, Blair. Stop the press.
Get this story. It's big.
Prominent socialite Bonnie Brewster
leads Joe Carey to Barreto's woman.
Dancer found hiding in
shower of Times' reporter.
Packy Campbell arrested
for holding witness.
D.A. Carey promises to reveal identity
of alien shakedown boss within 24 hours.
Thanks, Mr Campbell.
That's very sporting of you.
Look at this boundary.
Thousands of miles.
We can't police it all.
We can't keep them out.
But that's the labour
department's problem.
Here is where I come in.
These agents are well organized.
Probably the same mobs who
smuggled in liquor during prohibition.
Once they land an alien,
they never let up on him.
When he gets a job or
even government relief ..
They shake him down
for all they can get.
Under threat of exposure.
Which means arrest and
probable deportation.
That's what I'm after.
These extortionists.
Barreto was one of them.
I had three of them in here last month.
You heard Packy Campbell say I
couldn't produce the witnesses?
The gang had wiped them out.
At the back of that gang is a brain.
A brain clever enough to shake a hundred
million dollars a year from the aliens.
That's the man I'm after.
You think Carmen knows him?
Perhaps not. But she
might give us a lead.
Hello, Joe.
- Hello, Gilbert.
No. Just letting off
steam to Miss Brewster.
You know each other?
Everyone in San Francisco
knows Mr Fender.
Mr Carey's ex-law partner,
and one of our civic leaders.
Thank you, my dear.
Are you still making headlines?
No, I'm writing them now.
For the Star News.
I've been assigned to the
alien shakedown racket.
A dangerous business.
I read about the Barreto killing.
The unnamed girl who discovered
him in Carmen's dressing-room.
Yes. Miss Brewster just steered us
to Carmen, the dancer in the case.
You found her?
- No.
The boys have her in there.
If she talks, we may grab the big-shot.
The man at the back of Barreto.
What a wife she'd make.
She's the tightest-mouthed
dame I ever saw.
Let me try, Mr Carey.
She might talk to me.
Go on, Joe. Give Miss Brewster a chance.
Knock off.
We can listen here.
Pretty scared, aren't you Carmen?
I wish I'd never come to this country.
Perhaps I can help you
to get back to your own.
Mr Carey says they'll put me in jail.
I can make him change his mind.
I'll ask him to send those men away.
Why are you so kind to me?
Because I feel sorry for you
and I want to help you.
Would you like to use my compact?
I suppose you want a story, too?
Not about you.
Just tell me about Barreto.
Who's his boss?
I'm afraid.
You needn't be, Carmen.
Mr Carey is going to
take care of you and ..
Nothing can happen to you here.
Let's start at the beginning.
You wanted to leave home, didn't you?
And couldn't get a passport.
Was that it?
Yes .. I wanted so much
to come to America.
To work here. To dance.
And you went to a smuggler?
- No.
No. He came to me.
Two hundred dollars he
charged to bring me here.
Besides the fare?
Yes, the boat was extra.
What boat?
A freight boat. Not very big.
There were a lot of us.
We stopped everywhere to pick up more.
You stopped at regular ports?
Oh no.
In the night-time. Always way
out in the ocean, off the coast.
When we got to California, a big
fishing boat took us all ashore.
Then they put us in a
closed truck like cattle.
And drove for hours
before they let us out.
Where, Carmen?
I don't know.
It looked like a ranch
somewhere in the hills.
How long did you stay there?
Maybe a week.
Then Barreto came and took
me away to San Francisco.
Don't be afraid, Carmen. Go on.
I hated him.
He took half of my money every week.
He said he'd put me in
jail if I told the police.
And if anything happened to him.
They'd kill me.
Who are 'they'?
I don't know.
Nothing we don't already know, Gilbert.
Carmen, what was the name of
the freight boat you came on?
The Northern Star.
Didn't you ever see Barreto
with some other man?
Someone who gave him orders?
Once I saw a man talking to Barreto.
He told him to hide himself away.
- Did you know that man?
Yes. I know him.
Who is he? Tell me his name.
It was ..
[ Gunshot! ]
Clark. The door.
The alarm, Mac. Get an ambulance.
- Yes, sir.
Stay where you are.
Don't move.
Which way did he go?
- There. Right in that door.
Through the head. She died instantly.
That's protecting her, Carey.
She's safe enough now.
It's over. Come on.
Hello Susie. Give me the desk, quick.
Yeah, yeah. I'm out on bail.
How about it, Brewster?
Have you phoned your paper?
Hello, Crocker.
Has the edition gone in? Then hold it.
Stick on the wire.
Come on, Brewster, snap out of it.
It's all part of the job.
This time spill the facts. You know:
'Carmen shot. Federal Building'.
Here it comes.
'Carmen. Key witness. Alien
shakedown activities, murdered'.
Hello, mister ..
- Skip that, Brewster.
Give me the desk, I mean.
Where is it?
- In there.
'Shot down in Federal
Building. Carey's office'.
Whole joint in an uproar.
Cops all over the place'.
Has the edition gone in yet?
Then hold it.
'Escaped murderer plugged the dancer as
Carey tried to slap a story out of her'.
'Carmen murdered'.
'Federal Building'.
'Carey's office'.
'Shot while relating
shakedown story to ..'
'To your reporter'.
'Girl shot while spilling
story to unknown operator'.
'More later'.
'Murderer escaped. No description'.
Yes there is, Brewster.
But I have the exclusive on
that and I never forget a face.
'Carmen's exclusive story
is told to Bonnie Brewster'.
Yours in half an hour.
Some fun, huh?
If you'd kept your pretty nose out of it
she may be safe over the border by now.
Come on.
When I took this job I didn't want it.
I nearly quit a dozen times.
Don't blame yourself, Joe.
- It's the last straw.
The gloves are off. The fight is on.
I'm going to run down these
killers and wipe them out like rats.
Hiya, Captain.
What are you going to have?
I don't get you.
A black coffee.
- Why don't you say so?
How many have you got this time?
- An even dozen.
Where to put them?
I've already got 30 aboard.
It breaks your heart, doesn't it?
Squeeze them in any place. They can
stand it. Just three days to California.
At a century a piece.
That's 1,200 smackers.
We'll anchor off Stevenstown.
Board them about midnight.
Four flashes of the starboard light.
Repeat twice. That will be us.
Auf wiedersehen.
- Cheerio.
You be a good man and fix for me to ..
Allez California, no?
What do you mean 'fix'?
My cousin in California.
She say in letter ..
Come here and you fix.
Let me see the letter.
I burnt all the letters.
What's your cousin's name?
- Annette.
Annette what?
She says not to give her name.
She say: Come here, give you
200 dollars and you fix.
Parlez vous? The money. I have here.
It will tough on you
baby, if you ain't okay.
You look like a phony to me.
- Yeah, phony.
Ah oui, je comprends. Hello?
Au revoir.
Fifi .. where is my Fifi?
Ah, so you are very smart, huh?
You run away from your husband, huh?
You think your dad
will not get you, huh?
Cut the rough stuff.
The same she do all the time, my wife.
All the time she run off with other men.
The Duke, the Count.
But the next time, my little cabbage.
Alright, alright. Spread.
Just a couple of crazy foreigners.
You think you go to California
without your husband, huh?
We'll see.
For me, my wife.
To get on the boat.
Two hundred dollars, no?
- Hey, pipe down.
You pay that when you get on the ship.
I'll pick you up here about 7 o'clock.
- Pick up? Pick ..?
Ah, oui. For the boat, no?
Put a padlock on your tongue
if you want to stay healthy.
Giuseppe is a very smart man.
Now, for Papa.
One big kiss and then no
more runaway, huh?
Go on, make up. We don't want
no scrapping couples aboard.
My little wife, she
sure know how to kiss.
Which is more than I can say for you.
How did you find me?
It's my business finding out things.
And I hate to see you commit suicide.
You're here to protect me.
Not to get a story.
Well, it's a 50/50 proposition.
Half story, half protection.
Look here, Brewster.
I'll run interference for you. We'll cut
each other in on what we find out.
The way you cut me in
on the Barreto case?
If I'd spilled your name
you'd be on ice now.
Right beside Carmen.
Go ahead, cheer me up.
That dyed hair is no disguise.
We'd better call the whole thing off.
Why don't you?
Will you?
- No.
Then you travel with husband.
Whither thou go-est, I go.
Or I'll spill the beans.
You're hateful.
I wonder what the bridal suites
are like on the Northern Star.
I thought you said twelve.
These two are extras.
Basques. French or something.
Say they're married.
Come on.
Dig out two hundred smackers for me.
And two hundred for the Captain.
Allez. 200 dollar.
I don't know where to put them.
Perhaps, the bridal suite .. yes?
Not unless you can make a
bridal suite out of a lifeboat.
Well, for fifty dollar you
find something nice, no?
There's the 3rd-mate's cabin.
Take these two to
Herr Braunmeister's cabin.
Braunmeister's cabin?
Ah ..
Come, please.
You see, this cabin is not
so much big .. but lovebirds ..
Don't mind.
Lovebirds only need a small cabin.
Sure .. oui, Herr Schultz.
This little love cage is big enough
for me and my darling, Fifi.
Never, never am I so happy. So romantic.
As with a new husband and a new wife.
Yah, sure.
You see, he's so very much tired.
Anything you want,
just call for Schultz.
Good luck, Madame.
Happy evening.
Congratulations. As a fixer-upper
you're simply tremendous.
What will we do now?
You can do as you please.
I know what I'm going to do.
Very interesting.
Do you mind if I take a look?
Love from Jim.
What kind of a guy was Jim?
All-American half-back, huh?
Never forget.
Another All-American?
Just a memory.
I love you.
Music and moonlight. Donald.
You've done alright for
yourself, haven't you.
A little more time and
you'll have a full team.
[ Door knocks ]
Isn't it time for Herr Schultz
to get to sleep?
Poor Schultz cannot sleep at night.
His thoughts are for his new guests.
I also cannot sleep at night.
You must sit here.
Like that, until the morning.
Then Fifi, she go sleep
on the deck in the sun.
That's them alright.
I thought she was a phony.
Two nights ago on the Northern Star.
We will handle them at this end.
[ German language ]
Without her help, she would have died.
My little Fifi, she is
very good with the baby.
Already she have eight, ten, twelve.
This is good. Wunderbar.
Un tablespoon de lait.
Yah, I see.
Deux tablespoons. Boiled water.
Mix in one teaspoon of sugar.
Yah. Good.
Alors. Make milk warm
and feed to the baby.
Every four hours.
- When she cry?
No, no. Not when she cry.
Every four hours.
When we land.
Give orange or tomato juice.
We shall always pray for your happiness.
Nice work, Brewster.
Where did you get your knack with kids?
That's part of an expensive education.
The care of other people's babies.
What a place to start life.
On a filthy smuggling boat.
None of them realize
what they're running into.
They wouldn't believe
it if you told them.
We start a new life.
We make bigger money.
Eat a lot of spaghetti.
The agent .. he promised you a job too?
He say .. he find everybody a job.
Me? I dig the ditch.
They actually believe that
jobs are waiting for them.
Instead of a racketeer
waiting to shake them down.
Get ready to go ashore.
Everybody get ready to go ashore.
Is that all of them, Pete?
Alright folks, grab your bags.
Follow that path to the top of the hill.
[ Police siren ]
Hold everything.
The cops.
Wait a minute. You're under arrest.
Come on, people. Get out
of there. Make it snappy.
We get all the breaks.
Our whole game shot to pieces in
the last three minutes of the play.
Hurry it up.
Alright, folks. Pile out, all of you.
Come on, come on.
Come on, come on. Hurry it up.
Hey, Conklin.
Take these two down to headquarters.
I'm Packy Campbell of
the San Francisco Times.
Bonnie Brewster of The Star News.
You came off of that ship?
- Yeah.
Then you're going to headquarters.
You can do your talking there. Get in.
The mitts, let's have 'em.
Okay. Headquarters.
Why did they take us
away from all the others?
That's just what I was
trying to figure out.
Stay there, you.
Pull over and no tricks or I'll put
the pair of you in the morgue.
Alright. Stretch.
Get their guns, kid. Under the left arm.
You'll get life for this.
Now, the key to these handcuffs.
You heard me, the keys.
Open them up.
Get over here.
Snap them on, Rolo.
Looks like he's got the jitters.
Wait a minute.
Move over here and close the door.
But Packy, they're cops aren't they?
Not even a good imitation.
Here, get behind the wheel.
Now see if you can
figure out where we are.
Didn't I tell you I never forget a face.
Carmen's killer. I bumped into him in
the hall just after he did the shooting.
Don't you get it? We were spotted.
So the whole raid was a fake?
They were just gangsters
masquerading as policemen.
Bright girl.
They didn't want forty witnesses
to their double murder.
So they fixed us up with a private car.
How did they know we were aboard?
Maybe our boyfriend can
answer that. How about it, Rolo?
You think you got me, don't you?
Shake your brains and get 'em straight.
You're marked for the
coroner's office, both of you.
Five feet of dirt.
Worm-feed. That's you.
Yeah. We'd have put you there too.
You and that dirty little ..
Alright, kid. Go right
ahead for The Times office.
San Francisco Times, Editorial.
Gee Walpole, I can't talk now
because we're all too excited here.
Packy phoned and said he was
bringing in Carmen's killer.
Ain't he a marvelous hero though?
I'd like to surprise him and buy him
a present. You think he'd want a pass?
You think, what man wouldn't?
Listen Carol, I'm serious.
I want to buy him something
that will knock his eyes out.
What do you suggest?
A baseball bat?
Walpole, here they come now.
So that's the killer.
- Nice work, Packy.
What a star.
- Come on, bring him in here.
End of the line, kid.
This is where you get off.
Get off?
You're the greatest little woman in
the world, but this is my party now.
You go on home and get
a good night's sleep.
Who's the brunette?
- If it isn't little Bonnie Brewster.
What a break for Packy.
San Francisco Times. Editorial.
Susie, do me a favor will you.
Get me U.S. District
Attorney Carey's house.
Sure, I'll be glad to.
It only takes a second.
Gee, I'm sure crazy about your hair.
I think it's simply ravenous.
I thought of lightening my own hair.
But my girlfriend Opal says
I'm too light headed already.
Just a moment, please.
Will you take it over there, honey.
Hello? Mr Carey, please.
Bonnie Brewster speaking.
What's Mr Fender's number?
I'm sure you can give it to me.
Thanks very much.
Susie .. Mr Carey is
at Gilbert Fender's.
Can you get me his number?
It's not listed.
Gee, I can't. Not if it ain't listed.
They keep them numbers sacred.
Then I have to go to Mr Fender's house.
Listen, guys.
Why don't you say something?
Hit me in the face. Call the cops.
What are you waiting for?
Ah, I remember this one.
He squealed like a rat when they
put the rope around his neck.
He bounced like a rubber
ball when they sprung the trap.
There's one I covered back East.
Jersey City Jake.
We sneaked a camera in and got a some
shots just as they turned the juice on.
For some reason or other,
sourpuss Clint didn't like the guy.
So, they gave him the juice
in jerky little doses.
Ha .. you know, sort
of teased him along.
Then just as the guy doubled up ..
Clint gave him the whole current.
You know, I've often wondered
which hurts the worst.
Electrocution or hanging.
Sure, hanging hurts the worst.
But juice gets it over with quicker.
Now, when they hang you
as they do in this state.
Well, take Red the Rattler.
The rope snapped twice before
they finally broke his neck.
Funny they don't try out the rope first.
They do.
I was up at San Quentin last week.
I saw half a dozen ropes get stretched.
Each had a tag on it.
With the name of a guy on death row
and the date of his execution.
They stretch the ropes with a big bag of
sand the same weight as the murderer.
So his feet don't touch the
floor when they spring the trap.
That was the trouble
with Red the Rattler.
He ate so much in the last weeks
he put on a lot of weight.
He must have been a mess.
Three guys fainted before
he finally croaked.
Why Red didn't talk and save his own
neck is something I can't figure out.
Maybe loyalty is a virtue. I don't know.
Don't you believe it.
There's no guy living worth
another fellow dying for.
Red would still be rattling.
The D.A. guaranteed him immunity.
I guess Red preferred the rope.
I'll never forget the way he walked
up those thirteen steps to the noose.
You know that's the toughest part
of the hanging. Those thirteen steps.
It's kind of an unlucky
number for some guys, I guess.
[ Telephone ]
Alright. Stop it. I'll cooperate.
You want to feel that
rope around your neck?
You want to walk up them thirteen steps?
Alright then, Tony.
Spill it and you get off with life.
You know our broadminded parole board.
You'll be out in a couple of years.
You'll be a free man.
Tell us, who is the big-shot?
Gilbert Fender.
- Fender? You are crazy.
Lying won't get you anywhere.
Fender is our public citizen number one.
Say it straight.
You got it straight. What's more
I can prove Fender is the guy.
Get me the Federal
District Attorney Carey.
I don't know his number. You look it up.
Hurry up, will you?
Come on, nitwit. Get hold of the boys.
I want everything they've got on Fender.
Gilbert Fender.
Is there a Mr Carey here? I'm
Bonnie Brewster of The Star News.
Mr Carey was here but he
left right after dinner.
With Mrs Fender?
No, Miss. Mr Fender is in,
but I can't disturb him.
May I use your telephone?
- Well.
I think so.
What is it, Judd?
Good evening, Mr Fender.
Sorry to barge in on you this way.
Miss Brewster.
A pleasant surprise.
I'm trying to contact Mr Carey.
It's terribly urgent.
Come right in, my dear.
We'll call him up.
I wouldn't have known
you in the masquerade.
Been to a party?
- Yes. I was the guest of honor.
Luckily, it broke up early.
- Pardon me.
Let me speak to Mr Carey please.
I see.
Will you ask him to call
Mr Fender as soon as possible.
Thank you.
Carey will phone us when he comes in.
Then I won't impose on you any
longer. I'll drive over to his house.
He'll call us right back.
Sit down my dear. Tell me
what you've been doing lately.
You sure I won't bore you?
I'm sure you won't.
Remember that day in Carey's office when
Carmen told us about the Northern Star?
Right after that, Packy Campbell
and I went up to Vancouver.
Mr Carey? Just a minute.
Mr Carey just came in.
Hello, Carey? Packy Campbell.
Carmen's slayer just spilled the beans.
He says the top man in the alien
shakedown racket is Fender.
How about it?
Your filthy sheet wouldn't dare
print a libellous story like that.
Oh no? There will be an Extra
on the street in one hour.
That will shake this city
like an earthquake.
See here, Campbell.
Either you're pulling a
smart newspaper trick.
Or you've pumped a fake confession
from some half-crazed hop-head.
Carey, get this.
When Carmen was shot, I bumped into
the killer right outside your office.
He's with me now. We're on our
way to put the finger on Fender.
Thought you might like to come along.
No thanks.
I just came from there.
Then you can read the whole
story in tomorrow morning's Times.
Wait a minute.
If you have Carmen's killer, why haven't
you turned him in to the police?
I saved him for a feather in your hat.
Meet me at Fender's and
Tony, the killer, is yours.
Alright Campbell, on one condition.
You'll hold that Extra
until we've seen Fender.
Sold. See you in ten minutes.
Gee, Mr Campbell. If it's true,
it's awful what they'll do to her.
Who do to what?
She called Mr Carey at home but he
out so she tried to call Mr Fender.
Who you talking about?
The phone was unlisted. I said you
can't phone him if there's no listing.
So she had to go there herself.
- Who?
Bonnie Brewster.
- She's gone to Fender's?
I've been telling you all the time.
- Come on, Spike.
I was trying to tell you she was looking
for Carey. But he was over at Fenders.
Then she tried to call Fender but he has
a non-listed phone and couldn't get him.
Gee, nobody ever listens to me.
Boy, boy. I want a boy.
After Packy took Carmen's killer in the
office and slammed the door in my face.
I thought it was about time that
Mr Carey taught him another lesson.
I think the young man needs a lesson.
A good one this time.
Isn't Mr Carey home yet?
That's strange.
Yes. The minute he comes in.
Thank you.
I think I'd better call
a cab. It's getting late.
I'll send you home in my car.
- Thank you.
You don't want to let Packy Campbell
get away with this, do you?
I certainly do not.
That's the man, Mr Fender.
The one who put us into the truck.
Yes, I know.
No, no. You don't understand.
He's the one who tried to kill us.
Easy, my dear.
This is my chauffeur.
He's going to drive you home.
This time, see you take
better care of Miss Brewster.
Then you're in it, too?
[ Door knocks ]
Mr Carey and some men, sir.
Take her to the library, Thomas.
Keep her quiet.
Hello, Judd.
Is Mr Fender alone?
- Yes, sir.
Right in there, sir.
I don't mean to push in
like a raiding party, Gilbert.
Nonsense. You're always welcome, Joe.
Hello, Campbell .. I haven't seen you
since the unfortunate murder of Carmen.
Have a chair.
- Thanks. I think I'd rather stand up.
Judd, see what the gentlemen will have.
What will it be, Joe?
Straight, or highball?
Nothing now.
Joe, what's it all about?
I came here to keep Campbell's paper
from printing a dirty lie involving you.
This hysterical rat says he knows you.
He claims he's worked
with you for years.
He accuses you of being the top
man in the alien shakedown racket.
Of course, I know he's lying.
Campbell insisted he was
going to run the story.
I see.
You came here to accuse me on the
word of this obvious dope-fiend?
That's it.
Your publisher is insane enough ..
To print a story that probably
lands both of you in prison?
We have very drastic libel
laws in this state, Campbell.
I promise you I'll see them enforced.
You remember this man, Joe?
Tony Galleo on the Benton case.
He tried to pin a dope-running
charge on our client.
Oh, yes.
I sent him to San Quentin.
He swore he'd get me someday.
So this is your revenge, Galleo?
They questioned you tonight.
You thought you'd even things up.
Get back at me .. by tying
me in with the racket.
But you lied.
Didn't you.
Break out the box.
The kid is going to crack.
Yeah .. yeah, I lied.
They drove me crazy.
Asking me questions.
I said it was you to get
even for putting me in stir.
Wait. Cut it, Tony. Come on, this guy
can't hurt you now. Tell the truth.
It is the truth, Campbell.
Even though it spoils a
good story for your paper.
Mack, take him down to headquarters.
I'll question him tomorrow.
- Yes, sir.
I'm sorry, Gilbert.
Forget it, Joe. I have.
Alright, Campbell.
Have you seen anything
of Bonnie Brewster tonight?
Bonnie Brewster?
Is that the lady I met in your office?
- Yes, the little reporter.
Has Miss Brewster called this evening?
- Miss Brewster?
No, sir.
This seems to be your
night for guessing wrong.
Forgive me if I don't
see you to the door.
Of course.
Come along, Campbell.
Come on, Campbell.
I've had enough of your nonsense.
Wait a minute.
Carey, you're either crooked
or as blind as a bat.
Cut it, Campbell.
Maybe you're on the level. I don't know.
But Fender is guilty and he lied.
That's Bonnie Brewster's bracelet.
I found it in the hall.
She's in there and I'm getting her out.
Come on, Spike.
- Righto.
Better go along Mack, before Campbell
tears the house down brick by brick.
No you don't, mister big-shot.
It's too easy a way out for you.
The State has a nice little rope
waiting for you with your name on it.
There's your tough racketeer, Mack.
You'd better put the cuffs on him.
It's true, Joe.
He had us all fooled, Carey.
I'm glad to know you're
not in it with him.
Hold it.
Well, we pulled it off.
You alright, kid?
Yes. But you got here just in time.
Me and the all-Americans.
Alright. Hold that.
This is one the boss will really like.
Hey, wait a minute.
Star News? Give me the desk.
Hello. Brewster talking. Stop the press.
Clear the decks. A bombshell coming.
Gilbert Fender arrested.
Head of alien shakedown racket.
Exposed by your reporter.
Federal Attorney Carey
bags ex-law partner.
Coming right in. Hold everything.
Nice work, Brewster.
Especially the table.
Thanks, Packy.
But I don't want to be a
newspaperwoman anymore.
Hello Crocker, Campbell speaking.
Stop the press. Clear the decks.
A bombshell coming. Ready?
Hold it!
Shields, Hymie, Simpson, Owens.
Boy. I want a boy.
Alright. Spill it, Campbell.
Society girl to marry reporter.
Miss Bonnie Brewster
of Burlingame to wed ..
Packy Campbell, ace
news hound of The Times.
Holy jumping Jehoshaphat,
what kind of a reporter are you?
What do you think I pay you for?
What about Fender? What about
the alien shakedown racket?
I don't care who you marry.
Nobody cares who you marry.
I want story. I want action.
I want a boy.
Maternity hospital?
Congratulations, Chief. It's a girl.
Yeah. It's true.
Walpole, I feel as popular as the little
black animal that throws out a scent.
And I don't mean no Lincoln penny.
Ah well, as the French say:
'If you're going to toot,
Toute de suite'.
Goodbye now.