He Walked by Night (1948)

[bunniefuu]

♪♪

[male narrator]
This is Los Angeles.

Our Lady,
The Queen of the Angels,

as the Spaniards named her.

The fastest growing city
in the nation.

It's been called a bunch of
suburbs in search of a city.

And it's been called the glamour
capital of the world.

A mecca for tourists,
a stopover for transients,

a target for gangsters,

a haven for those
fleeing from winter,

a home for the hardworking.

It is a city holding

the hopes and dreams
of over 2 million people.

It sprawls out horizontally

over 452 square miles
of valleys and upland,

of foothills and beaches.

Because of that vast area,

and because of a population

made up of people
from every state in the union,

Los Angeles is the largest
police b*at in the country

and one of the toughest.

We're going to take you
into the city hall,

where police headquarters
are located.

Here, in communications,

are the ears and
voice of the police.

The lights on the complaint
board flash 24 hours a day.

Citizens reporting a prowler,
a lost child,

a man molesting a woman,

an auto accident,
a wild party.

Spend an hour or two
here and you will think

the whole city
has gone berserk.

Minute by minute,
the orders go out

to the radio cars
in the far-flung divisions.

Watts and Wilshire
in West Los Angeles.

Hollywood and Hollenbeck Heights
in North Hollywood.

The work of the police, like
that of woman, is never done.

This is the case history
of a k*ller,

taken from the files
of the detective division.

The facts are told here
as they happened.

The story properly starts here

in Hollywood
Division headquarters

at 1:00 of a June
morning last year.

Officer Robert Rawlins
had finished

his tour of duty
and signed out.

It had been a tough day.
He'd be glad to get home.

His wife would be
waiting up for him,

as she always did.

♪♪

[car door closing]

[car revving]

[brakes squeaking]

Hey, fella. Come here.

What were you doing
back at that radio shop?

Just looking.
I was on my way home.

Live around here?

Yeah, a couple
of blocks down.

Let me see some
identification.

Sure.

[scoffs]

Yeah, I guess
I forgot my wallet.

Look, lad, I've got to see
some identification.

How about my army discharge?
I got it right here.

[g*nshots]

♪♪

[g*nshots]

[engine trying to start]

[engine revving]

[crashing]

[phone buzzing]

Police department,
operator 27.

[man] I want to report
the sh**ting of a policeman.

Hold on, please.

[bell ringing]

[operator]
Give me that again, please.

[man] I'm calling to report
the sh**ting of a policeman.

[operator]
What's the address?

[man] 5057 State Street,
just west of Santa Monica.

Just a minute.

[woman] Receiving hospital,
operator 2.

Operator 27,


An officer's been sh*t.

Send an ambulance.

All units.

All units in the vicinity
of State Street,

Santa Monica Boulevard.

Proceed at once
to 5057 State Street.

5-0-5-7 State Street.

An officer sh*t. Code 3.

[siren blaring]

- [engines revving]
- [sirens blaring]



[female operator] Control One
to 80-K, go ahead.

This is Breen.

Instruct homicide
to throw out a dragnet

and pick up all
suspicious characters

in the area of the sh**ting.

Also notify sergeants
Marty Brennan and Chuck Jones

to report to me
at the scene of the crime.

[female operator]
Control One to 80-K.

Roger.

[indistinct chatter]

- [engine starts]
- [siren blaring]

I see. Well, what
have you got so far?

Well, not much,
Captain Breen.

A couple of
cartridge cases.

Hello, Marty, Chuck.

Hi, Captain.

Eyewitnesses? Who was first
on the scene, reported it?

I was. I... I live here.
I... I'm a light sleeper,

but my hearing is good
and my...

Did the officer say anything
before he collapsed?

Yeah, he gave a description
of the fellow. He was...

[female operator]...on the
sh**ting of the officer:

suspect is
a white male American,

age 26 or 27,

5'10 " or 5'11",

155 to 165 pounds.

Brown hair. Regular features.
Pencil mustache.

Repeat broadcast. All units...

- Is that about it?
- Yes, sir. Exactly.

And the officer kept saying,
"He looked like such a nice kid.

He looked like
such a nice kid."

As if he couldn't believe
what had happened to him.

- I see. Is that all?
- Yeah.

Thank you very much.

Well, anything else I can do,
I'd be glad to help you.

We may call you.

Get his name and address,
will you, Bob?

This door been
checked, Lee?

Yeah, it's ok, Captain.

Find anything?

Nothing but
some smudges so far.

Found this
in the glove compartment.

I think it's nitroglycerine.

Doesn't look quite right.

Well, check it
down at the lab.

Right.

Come on.

Open this up, Joe.

No key, Captain.

Well, pry it open.

Give me that bar, Frank.

[banging]

[rattling]

Hmm.

A regular arsenal.

Yeah, and get
a load of that.

What is it?

I don't know. It looks like

some kind of an
electrical device.

United States Navy.

Either stolen
or w*r surplus.

Send all this stuff
down to the lab

and check the serial number
on that navy equipment.

Yes, sir.

[officer]
Captain Breen.

We found these in the weeds
over by the radio store.

Hmm. What have you got?

A pair of cloth gloves,
Captain.

He thought of everything,
didn't he?

All right, give them to one
of the technicians.

Yes, sir.

Marty, you and Chuck
come along with me.

Let's go downtown and see

what they've picked up
in the dragnet.

Right.

[siren blaring]

You know him, Marty?

Yeah.

I know his wife, too.

Ever since high school.

Captain, I wish you'd let Chuck
and me handle this case.

All right. But I don't
want any dead heroes.

I just want the man
who sh*t Rawlins.

[male narrator]
The suspects began to arrive

at headquarters in droves.

The police tossed
every motel and hotel

and many private homes
in a 4-square-mile area

around the scene
of the sh**ting.

Every available
radio car and patrolman

and detective was
out on the dragnet.

The strings were being drawn
tighter and tighter.

Many a man returning
from a date or a late party

or a poker game

surprisingly found himself
in a squad car,

its sirens screaming
as it brought him

to the detective bureau.

The dragnet gathered in
some strange fish,

and many ordinary ones.

All the rest of that night,
the detectives probed,

needled, questioned, quizzed.

Everything was checked:

fingerprints, names,
addresses, stories.

Every fish in the net
was examined,

most of them thrown
back into the sea,

not worth keeping.

Except a few parole violators
and slightly shady characters

whose stories needed
a lot of verifying.

I wasn't prowling
no cars.

Just taking a walk. You know,
getting in condition.

You were running when
the radio car picked you up.

Yeah? Maybe that's why
the guys call me punchy.

He's got
a point there.

Two felony convictions.
No warrant.

No warrant.
He's on parole.

Book him.
Violation of parole.

Let's have
the next one, Joe.

What were you doing
in that vacant lot?

The vacant lot. Lot.

What were you doing in it
at that time of night?

[speaking in foreign language]

you say your name
is Ralph Henderson.

So what?

Well, you know,
it's a funny thing, Ralph.

There's a guy around this town

that's been wearing
your fingerprints.

Only,
his name is Pete Hammond.

Ok, so I'm dead.

So what's one more
confession in my life?

Now you're talking,
Hammond. Ok, Andy.

Hello, Harry.
What have we got here?

Oh, some
robbery suspects.

[Harry]
Candidates for San Quentin.

Handsome here is the big sh*t.
He runs the outfit.

Have a gander
at his record.

"car theft, escape from
reform school, robbery,

as*ault with a deadly w*apon."
not bad.

Look at the heater
we found on him.

German Luger,
fully loaded.

Redhead here tried
to carve up

one of the arresting officers
with this pretty toy.

Nice boys.

[male narrator]
By dawn,

many minor wrongdoings
had been uncovered

and a few incipient felonies.

The checking of the suspects
had been thorough,

painstaking, and tedious.

But all the work
was for nothing.

The man who had
sh*t officer Rawlins

was not among them.

He remained no more
than a description,

a shadow of a man.

Mysterious. Elusive. Deadly.

Hidden away somewhere
in the vast city.

As for Rawlins himself,
he couldn't help.

He was in a coma
at receiving hospital.

Mrs. Rawlins waited out
the long, tense hours

while her husband
fought to live.

Many another officer's wife had
so waited. Many another will.

The word came
shortly after sunup.

[sobbing]
Oh, no. Oh, no.

[female operator]...a white
male American, 26 or 27,

5'10 " or 5'11",

155 to 165 pounds.

Brown hair. Regular features.
Pencil mustache.

[male narrator]
This was no frightened fugitive.

What went on in his mind?

Why had he set his hand
against his fellow men,

taken the life of another,
of a stranger,

of a man who was
merely doing his duty?

He must have some plan,

some goal that called
for sudden death

to anyone who got
in his way.

[machine whirring]

[dog whining, barking]

[dog barking]

[humming]

- Good morning, boys.
- Good morning, Lee.

Hi, professor.

Well, I thought this was
safe-cr*cker soup.

You're gonna
drink it, I hope?

I'm really a nice guy.

Stick around.
I'll prove it.

Come over here.

Hold this for me,
will you, Chuck?

Thank you.

Now, if you'll hand me
that hammer, Marty.

Thank you.

[expl*si*n]

Yeah, nitroglycerine.

I didn't ask for a collection
of fingers, just fingerprints.

All those nice fingerprints
on the car

belong to the man it was
stolen from, Captain.

Nothing on the g*ns
or picklocks?

Not even an
interesting smudge.

The gloves?

Common type.
Worn by undertakers.

I'll check on them,
but it won't show anything.

What did your
scientific tests show?

A couple
of little things.

Tool identification
on these picklocks.

I got one under the scope.
You want to take a look?

Yeah.

Take a look.

[Jones]
Hmm, I see.

Well, it seems to tie
the tool up with the lock.

Oh, if that microscope
could only tell us who did it.

I'm working on that.

Only an amateur
would carry

that liquid dynamite
in the car.

This boy is no amateur.

Took the precaution
of desensitizing it,

so it'll take normal shock.

Took a lot of
other precautions, too.

No fingerprints,
no identification,

nothing definite.

Except he's scientific.

Knows electricity.
He's inventive.

Yeah,

happy on the trigger.

This is Captain Breen.

Get me Captain Stevens
at burglary, will you?

I hate to disappoint you, Lee,

but I think you've come up
with something.

Hello, Steve?

How are you?

Did your daughter's marriage
come off all right?

Good. Look, Steve,
on those burglaries

of electrical
equipment lately.

Were there any where picklocks
were used to gain entry?

Good. Let me know if there's
another report of one, will you?

I've got an idea
the Rawlins k*ller

may be tied in with those.

Fine and, uh, give my regards
to the newlyweds, too.

So long, Steve.

Well, what are
you waiting for?

You've got a job,
haven't you? Get going.

Yeah, let's go,
junior.

Hold this for me,
will you, Lee? Thanks.

[male narrator]
And so, with no fingerprints

and only a vague
description to go by,

Sergeant Brennan turned
to the modus operandi file.

A criminal, like any
human being,

has his own habit patterns,

unconscious traits
that can lead to his downfall.

Well, here they
are, junior.

List of burglars who use
picklocks for entry.

Oh, great.
This narrows it down

to just a couple of hundred
suspects in this area.

Give me a match,
will you?

It may not be so bad.

This guy's improved
on the system.

Maybe he's left his trademark
on some other job.

Well, here we go.

Legging it all over town,
asking a million questions.

It's what you're
paid for, isn't it?

Am I paid to associate
with you, too, junior?

You could do worse.

Not this year.
Come on.

[female operator]
Car 12. Car 1-2.

In the 10000 block
on Mississippi.

A 394-15 disturbance.

[car door closing]

Car 80-K. Code 1.

All units.

On the broadcast
of the suspect arrested

in the sh**ting of
patrolman Rawlins:

cancel the cancellation.
Suspect released from custody.

Oh, hello, Mr. Martin.

You'll find Mr. Reeves
in the machine shop.

Hello, Roy.
Glad to see you.

How are you,
Mr. Reeves?

Fine. I was hoping
you'd drop in.

I wanted to thank you
for showing us

how to handle
that repair job.

It helped a lot.

[door closing]

Well, what have we got
this time?

Oscillograph?

We have plenty
of these around, Roy.

Not like this one.

Yes, I see.

I suppose, as usual, you've
added your own improvements.

You know, it seems wrong
that a man of your talent

should bother consigning
equipment for rental.

I'd like to see you
devote yourself

entirely to
experimental electronics.

It'll come one day.

I'll have a place like this.

Well, why wait?

I've got a pretty good
setup here.

You'd have modern equipment
to work with, a lab,

and my confidence.

Thanks, Mr. Reeves.

I have other plans.

But, Roy, you can't tell
where it'll lead.

Might even work
your way around

to a percentage
of the business.

I like it this way.

You just rent out
my equipment.

Right, Roy. All right.

But if you should
change your mind...

I'm not likely
to change my mind.

I suppose you want me to
set this up for rental, too.

Mr. Reeves?

You've already got


You'd like to know
what results I've had

from the rentals so far, hmm?

Well, I can't say
as I blame you.

I think you'll find
this satisfactory.

Satisfactory.

Goodbye, Mr. Reeves.

You'll come back again soon,
won't you?

Sure.

Oh, incidentally,

how's that television
projector coming along,

the one you said
would reflect a 12-foot image?

Still working on it.

I just wanted you to know I've
already set up a rental on it.

In fact, I think they'd
like to buy.

It'll come pretty high.

Oh, money's no consideration
with this customer.

Tell him he can
pick it up tomorrow.

I thought you said
it wasn't finished yet.

It'll be finished.

[Roy]
It uses an image fixer

and then projects
by ordinary incandescence.

Roy, this is the best

television projector
I've ever seen.

Let's hope that
your customer thinks so.

He will.

[intercom buzzing]

Yes?

Send him right in,
Charlotte.

There, you see?
Our customer is here,

begging for the privilege
of buying.

Better be running along.
I'm not much good at business.

Oh, but, Roy, he'll want
to congratulate you.

Just see that
the price is right.

All right, Roy.
I'll get you a good deal.

- So long.
- See you.

[door closing]

Well, Mr. Dunning,
come in.

Isn't it a beauty?

It's a beauty,
all right.

You like it?

I certainly do like it.

You see, it's mine.

- What do you mean?
- Let me have the police.

I built it.
Spent years on it.

Oh, you must be crazy.

Roy built this
machine himself.

Your friend's a crook, Paul.
You've been taken in.

Hello?
Give me the burglary detail.

"Dear Tim,
regarding your inquiry

on the.38 caliber
Smith and Wesson revolver..."

Oh, come in, boys.

Burglary detail just sent
this report through.

A man named Dunning reports

tracing a stolen
television projector

to the Reeves electronics lab.

Think it's a tie-in
with the Rawlins' case?

Take a look at this fellow
Reeves, and see what gives.

I'll notify burglary that
we're following up on it.

Right. Come on, junior.

What else did he place
with you for rental?

Oh, a number of things.

Old w*r surplus that he bought
on his veteran training.

Is this more
of his equipment?

Yes. Yes, he left it here
on consignment.

I'm sure that Roy
can explain everything.

Well, maybe he can,
Mr. Reeves,

if you'll tell us
where he lives.

But I don't know.

Mr. Martin's
on the phone, sir.

I'd better talk
to him.

I think so,
Mr. Reeves.

I'll take it in
the superintendent's office.

Tell him that
you sold the set

and his money's waiting
for him here.

Find out what time
he's coming by.

Put Mr. Martin on.

Hello, Roy.

Yes. Yes,
I've sold it.

Your money is waiting
here for you.

Yes, I'll be working
late tonight.

What time will
you be by?

First thing
in the morning.

Well, maybe you better
come in tonight, Roy.

A couple of things
I want cleared up.

Like what?

[Reeves]
Oh, technical things.

Besides I don't like
to leave the money

in the plant overnight.

How about 8:30?

Fine. Fine.
I'll see you then.

I'll leave the
front door unlocked.

He'll be here at 8:30.

Well, I'll just run along home
and get some dinner.

Uh, we'd like you to stay, too,
Mr. Reeves.

- Why?
- For company.

You want to cooperate,
don't you, Mr. Reeves?

- Certainly.
- Good.

Now, you just wait in your
office. We'll be around.

Very well.
This way, gentlemen.

[car horns honking]

Reeves?

Is that you, Roy?

Go outside and block
that alley door.

Where are you, Roy?

Who's in here?

No one here.
I'm alone.

Come on in. I've got
your money for you.

Bring it out here.

All right.

Just a minute.

[grunting]

[g*nshots]

[g*nshots]

[gasping]

[gasping, groaning]

[shuddering]

[groaning]

No. None of them
even looks like Roy Martin.

He had such a fine face.

Didn't keep him
from carrying a g*n.

Or didn't you know that?

No, I didn't.

I've told you all I know,
all he ever told me.

What about his friends?
Didn't he have a girl?

No. No, I don't think so.

He had no interest in anything
but electronics.

Where did he pick up
the subject?

Books, magazines.

Mostly from the Signal Corps.
He was attached to a radar unit.

Send a teletype off to the
w*r Department. It might help.

[intercom buzzing]

Yes?

[woman]
Ready on your call

to receiving hospital,
Captain Breen.

Hello, uh,
this is Captain Breen.

What is the latest report
on Sergeant Jones?

I see.

Well, let me know if
there's any change, will you?

Thanks.

Chuck's in pretty
bad shape, Marty.

He's paralyzed.
May never walk again.

Oh, I'm sorry.

It's funny that Martin
showed up at 7:00,

when he told you he
wouldn't be there till 8:30.

I don't know why.

Except he was
always unpredictable.

I'll tell you why.
Because you warned him.

That's why he came early, that's
why he came in the back way.

But you heard me tell him
the front door would be open.

And the key to
let him in the back way?

He must have had one made.

Why don't you
tell us the truth?

[Breen]
Marty.

Now look, Paul,

you can make it a lot easier
for us to believe your story

if you'll just
give us some facts.

Something that
might help us.

I've told you
all I know.

I've been gullible, all right,
letting him make a fool of me.

But I'd do anything

to make up for what he did
to Detective Jones.

Sure. Sure you would.

You can go now.

Oh, thanks.

Thanks.

My friends, they can
vouch for my character.

That's good. We'll call you
if we need you.

Thank you very much.

I think he's telling
the truth, Marty.

I think he's just gullible,
like he said.

What about the stolen stuff he
was trying to peddle for Martin?

We'll use it for bait.

Maybe Martin'll come back
for it, then we can ask him.

Here.

Nevertheless, I want a 24-hour
tail put on Reeves

and I want a watch
on his home and his factory.

Right.

You can keep those.

Ok, Captain.

♪♪

[male narrator]
And now the k*ller

changed his tactics,
his modus operandi.

It would baffle the police.

They always expected burglars
to remain burglars,

not go in for stickups.

They'd never tie
this up with him.

So, wearing a variety
of disguises,

coming and going
like a shadow,

ready to k*ll if cornered,

he struck the bottle stores
in a one-man blitz

that had the
robbery detail dizzy.

[woman gasping]

[car engine revving]

[male narrator]
The k*ller, always resourceful,

always thinking along lines
that would baffle his hunters,

had discovered
an ideal avenue of escape.

Under Los Angeles is a vast
and intricate system

of huge storm drains

built to siphon off the flash
floods of the rainy season.

Many of the tunnels
are large enough

for two cars to drive abreast.

Here was 700 miles
of hidden highways,

ideal for the use of someone
who needed to hurry

from place to place
without being seen.

Ideal as a hiding place
for g*ns and supplies,

in case of emergency.

What is it, Lee?

Well, the reason I asked
you to come over is

I think I've hit on something.

An identification?

No, not quite,
but a tie-up.

Now, these are the shells

from the g*n
that k*lled Rawlins.

These were fired
in the liquor store holdup

in which the bandit
got away.

And these were
fired at Chuck.

Now, as you know,
every ejector,

even in g*ns of the same
model and caliber, is different.

Each one leaves its own markings
on the cartridge casing.

Now, look at these
fine striations.

This deep gouge.

The same on all three.

Hmm.

In other words,
the man who k*lled Rawlins,

and the man who sh*t
at Jones and Brennan,

the stickup who's blitzing
the liquor stores,

they're all the same man.

Right.

All we need to know
is what that man looks like.

Get me Chandler in robbery,
will you?

I've got an idea
about that.

Also, it'll give us
a chance

to see if Reeves
is on the level with us.

Uh, Steve? Breen.

About those blitz
holdups you're on,

round up all the victims

and have them down
here tonight, will you?

Oh, it's just
a little scheme.

Thanks, Steve.

Mmm. That's good.

Now sketch another one
of the same type,

only this time,
thin it out a little, huh?

- Right.
- Hi, Lee.

How's it coming?
You ready for tonight?

We'll be ready.

Think it'll work?

It should.

Where did you
get the idea?

From a kidnapping
case in Chicago.

I thought these
slides might be

an improvement over
the method they used.

Could be.
Captain thinks so.

[indistinct conversations]

[Breen] Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

May I have your attention
for a moment, please?

You've all been asked to sit in

on our little
experiment tonight.

We're going to try to build
a picture of a face,

the face of a man
who's cunning,

resourceful, and deadly.

He's a man who
k*lled a police officer.

Now, some of you, he held up
at the point of a g*n.

You may have seen
his face,

remembered
something about him.

And we want you to tell us
exactly what you remember,

whether it's his hair,
eyes, nose, or mouth.

And we're going to try
to put those pieces together,

so that they add
up into a picture

of the face of
the man we want.

Now, you can see
how we're depending on you.

Lights.

Now first,
we're going to concentrate

on the type of
hair our man had.

And if the picture looks
anything like his hair,

I want you
to speak right up.

All right,
the first slide, Lee.

His hair had waves in it,
well-groomed.

That's the idea,
Miss Smith.

Is that any closer?

Mmm, no,
it was parted on the side.

Oh, that's more like it,
except it was thicker.

Oh, that's very close.

Yes, that's the way
his forehead looked.

It was broad and high.

All right,
hold that slide.

On the next series
of slides,

we'll take into account
his eyes.

One minute, please, wait.
One minute.

His eyes were
a little like that.

Maybe a little smaller,
like beads.

Go on, Lee.

Now, now you've got it.

Now hold that slide, Lee.
Anyone else?

That looks like him,
only a little madder.

He had a patch
over one eye when he come

into my dive, uh,
my place of business.

I remember noticin'
the one showin' was blue.

Well, the guy that stuck me up
had on horn-rimmed glasses.

He was wearing a band-aid
across his nose

when he knocked me over.

Mm-hmm.

All right. Hold that, Lee.
Well, so much for the eyes.

Go ahead.

Señor Capitan!

Yes, Miss Montavo?

[speaking in foreign language]

Like that, Captain,
but more snub, wider.

Try another one, Lee.

[speaking in foreign language]

She says that's about it.

Thank you very much,
Miss Montavo.

Get Reeves.

Alright.
Any more comments?

[man] That's pretty close,
all right. Pretty close.

Perfect.

All right. Now we'll start
on the mouth and chin.

The next series, Lee.

I think his lower lip
stuck out more.

The mouth was thin and mean,
like it never laughed.

Just go ahead.

Something like that,
but thicker lips.

There, that's it.
That's him.

All right. Now,
hold that right there, Lee.

Oh, come in,
Mr. Reeves.

Good evening, Captain.

Did you ever see
that face before?

[Reeves]
Why, it's Roy.

Except for the hair
being a little lighter

and the eyebrows heavier,

it's Roy.

You're sure?

I'm positive.
I'd know him anywhere.

Lee, I want
a retouched photograph.

Now lighten the hair,

and give more body
to the eyebrows.

Right.

Lights.

That's all.

Thank you very much.
You've been a great help.

It's positively amazing how you
found out what he looks like.

Well, we're looking for an
amazing criminal, Mrs. Johnson.

Thank you and good night.

[both]
good night, Captain.

[male narrator]
And so the face

of the unknown k*ller, built up
from fragments of evidence,

was sent out all
over the country,

to chiefs of police,
to sheriffs,

to county constables
and county jailers,

to the wardens of prisons,

to all postmasters
and postal inspectors,

to the agents of
the Treasury Department,

to the FBI.

They showed that picture to the
inmates ofjails and prisons,

to men with a wide
acquaintance

among the cat burglars
and the v*olence boys.

Informers and con men and
sharpshooters were quizzed,

those on the fringe of crime,
and those deep in the rackets.

Many wanted to help.
Nobody could.

No one in the underworld
recognized that mysterious face.

He was as unknown
as if he had lived

in the 16th century.

[car engine rumbling]

♪♪

[car door closing]

[door closing]

[car door closing]

♪♪

Reeves.

Roy.

Listen carefully, Reeves.

Control yourself.

I know you're alone
in the house.

Act like you're alone.

The cops are watching
every move you make.

The police? Here?

They got you staked out
like a muskrat hide.

Watching you
around the clock.

Here, at your plant,
tailing your car.

Sit in that chair.

Pick up 3 books.

Don't look up,
and don't answer me.

All right.

Well, glance at the books.

Pick one of them.

OK. Now, that's the book
you want to read

before you go to bed.

Now, get up
and turn off the lamp.

Come here.

Come here!

Go in the den.

Pull those
drapes tight.

[door closing]

Now get away from them.

What do the cops
know about me?

Not very much, Roy.

No fingerprints.
They haven't even got

a picture of you.
They're trying to make one.

[chuckling]

how much cash you got
in the house?

None. I never keep any cash
in the house.

It isn't good business.

I suppose you think
it was good business,

letting me walk
into that trap.

No, Roy, no.

Don't do anything you'll regret.
Now, listen to me.

It isn't too late.
Give yourself up.

Come to your senses
before you k*ll someone else.

What do you mean,
"someone else"?

- What do you mean?
- Nothing, I...

The two officers... They said
one of them might die.

He's still alive,
isn't he?

Reeves,

I never thought you'd
stooge for the police.

You almost got
me k*lled.

Roy, you know the police
are right outside.

You'd never get away with it.

That's right.

Now you're being sensible.

[slapping]

I know there's money here.
Where is it?

Don't, Roy.
I'll get it.

It's not enough.

The stuff you've got of mine
is worth thousands.

I'll get more.

Then get it.
Keep it handy.

I'll be back next week
or next month, but get it.

And have it ready.

Just give me time.

[thudding]

- [kicking]
- [groaning]

Look,

I don't want policemen outside
my house, following me around.

That's what made
Roy suspicious.

I'm leaving
in the morning.

I'm afraid I'll have to
disappoint you, Paul.

Unfortunately,
you're our bait.

I won't do it.
I've done enough.

Look, no one's done enough
until we find this k*ller.

I asked you to keep a sharp
lookout on this house, Marty.

I did. Two of the best
undercover men

of the department
were assigned here.

That didn't keep
Martin from getting in.

What's the matter,
you tired?

[car engines rumbling]

You got any idea how long
you've been on this case, Marty?

Months.

Long enough to have come up
with something by this time.

You know any more
about the Rawlins k*ller

than you knew the first week?

Yeah.

That he's about the toughest nut
I've ever had to cr*ck.

That's what I told the chief

when he called me in
this afternoon

and wanted to know why
the case hadn't been broken.

Look, Captain, Rawlins was
a friend of mine.

So is Chuck.

I've got a bigger stake in this
than the chief knows.

I'm doing
everything I can.

I'm afraid
it's not enough, Marty.

Maybe you're too close to it
to see it clearly.

Maybe it needs a fresh team,
a new viewpoint.

I think you better take
a couple of weeks off, Marty,

starting tomorrow.

Anything you say,
Captain.

[car engine rumbling]

Hiya, Marty.

Hi, Chuck.

Meet Miss Scanlon,
my new bodyguard.

He's the one I've
been telling you about.

Oh, you mean the one
with the steel-trap brain?

- How do you do?
- Hello.

This guy been behaving?

After a fashion.

See, she takes me
out in my go-cart,

puts me to bed,
wakes me up, dresses me.

You're perfectly capable
of dressing yourself now,

Mr. Jones.

I'll be back
in a few minutes.

Well, how's it been going,
junior?

Oh, pretty good, Chuck.
Pretty good.

Is that why
you're off the case?

How'd you know?

Breen was in
to see me this morning.

Oh.

I suppose he also told you
they put a new team on the case.

He told me everything.

Yeah. Let's see what
his new boys dig up.

Well, maybe they'll examine
the facts of the case

a little more carefully.

What facts?
When a man's sharp,

and intelligent,
and works alone?

And he has no record,
never leaves a fingerprint,

knows every move we make?

Sure, plenty of facts,
only they add up to nothing.

Sure, forget it.

You got yourself
a 10-day vacation.

Go on down to the beach,
get a suntan.

By the time you get back,
the case will be broken.

Isn't that what
you want?

You know better
than that.

All I know
is what I hear.

You sit there
batting your gums

about how the old
man let you down.

Maybe he's trying
to wake you up.

He's got a funny way
of showing it.

There you go, flying
off the handle.

Always taking things
for granted.

I wish I could get up
and boot some sense into you.

He knew what
this case meant to me.

[Jones]
He still does.

That's why he's trying
to get you mad enough

to do something about it.

You don't really figure
that's his idea, do you?

I know it is.

Ah, it's a tough case,
Chuck.

Not an angle,
nothing to go on.

You'd know what I meant if
you were out working with me.

I have been
working with you.

It's all I've had
to do lately,

just sit around studying
what little facts we have,

trying to figure
out who he might be.

You know the kind of a guy
we're up against, then.

I tell you, Chuck, this guy's a
genius, the way he operates,

as if he were
right there with us

every time we go
out after our lead.

Oh, sure, Breen's been
tipping him off

just to make you
look bad.

I almost like that.

The way he beats us
to the punch every time.

There's your angle.

You just hit it on the head,
but you don't see it.

Look, start adding.


to the underworld.


to the punch, right?

And 3: it's almost
as if he were with you.

- Isn't that what you said?
- Yeah.

Well, tie that up with a
lot of other little things,

like the fact that
he uses a police g*n,

and the accuracy
of the sh**ting.

Anybody could
buy a police g*n.

The army could have
taught him how to sh**t.

Yeah, but who taught him
how the police operate?

I know what
you're driving at, Chuck.

But a cop?

Those things happen.

Yeah.

Now, if I were still
on the case,

I'd start with our
own department first.

Then Santa Monica,
Culver City,

Burbank, Pasadena.

- See you later, junior.
- Hey.

Don't let him out of
your sight, beautiful.

It's the first time in
years he's used his head.

[chuckling]

♪♪

But you've got a print
of every mug we take.

We always send L. A.
A copy, Sergeant.

It's personnel photos I want.

You mean of our boys?

That's Rawlins' k*ller,
isn't it?

That's right.

You've checked
your own department?

We did that first.

[male narrator] And so
the tedious quest went on.

Sergeant Brennan wore out
his shoes and his patience

going from police station
to police station,

checking photos until
his eyes were blurry.

For police work
is not all glamour

and excitement and glory.

There are days and days
of routine,

of tedious probing,

of tireless searching,

fruitless days,
days when nothing goes right,

when it seems as if no one
could ever think his way

through the maze
of baffling trails

a criminal leaves.

But the answer to that
is persistence

and the hope that sooner or
later something will turn up,

some tiny lead that can grow
into a warm trail

and point to the cracking
of a tough case.

Well, that does it, boys.

I can't say I'm sorry
you didn't find him in here.

I'd hate to think
it was a cop.

Doesn't seem
to be anybody.

Just a lot of pieces of a face
that never existed.

You mind if I see
that again?

Sure, frame it.
Put it on your dresser.

Wait a minute.
He wasn't a cop.

He was a radio technician

right here in
our dispatch office.

What did you say?

I'm saying he
worked here in '42.

Well, come on, give!

I remember the kid well.
Sort of strange.

Never bothered with anyone
in the department,

just kept to himself.

He was in line for a promotion
when he was drafted.

Where was he living
at the time?

I don't remember.

Try the dead files.

He never asked for his job back
after the w*r.

I remember writing to him
about it, though.

He was an excellent worker.

Oh, yeah, here we are.
Yeah, this is it.

Took a while
before he answered,

but, like he says in the letter,
he wasn't interested.

Postmarked Hollywood.
No return address.

What do you want us to do?
All the work?

Oh, thanks a lot,
Freddie.

Remember,
he was a civilian employee.

Well, how about it,
anybody recognize him?

Not on my route.

I never saw him before.

Yeah? Ok, fellas,
thanks very much.

I thought for a minute...

No.

And yet, that face...
I wonder.

Yeah?

Well, this may not
mean anything,

but he looks like a guy
that's on my route.

He never gets any mail,

but I see him
around there all the time.

He lives in one
of the courts.

Where?

Come on,
I'll show you.

It's not that easy.

What time does your route
take you past those courts?

About 9:00. Why?

Just thinking.

[truck engine rumbling]

You got any
chocolate milk?

Sure have, buddy.

- There you are.
- Thanks.

Which apartment?

Straight on back.


number 7.

Right.
Kind of warm today, huh?

Oh, it's not too bad
for this time of year.

Good morning.

Morning.

You're new on our route,
aren't you?

Yes, a substitute.

What happened
to the other fellow?

Sick.

Oh, what's the matter
with him?

I don't know.

I catch everything.

Hear about it on the radio,
and next morning I've got it.

Too bad.

You aren't very social.

The regular fellow
always stops and talks to me.

Sorry, lady, I'm a
little late this morning.

I was hoping maybe
you could help me.

There's something very funny
going on in this court.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

I was scared to go
to the police with it.

I thought maybe
I might be poisoned.

- What?
- Yeah.

By the manager.
She's a witch.

- She's a what?
- A witch.

She puts poison
in my milk.

Oh, I see.

Look,

switch the bottles
when she isn't looking, see?

Drink her milk.
Then you'll be safe, right?

[bottles clanking]

- [bottle shatters]
- [dog barking]

- [bottles clanking]
- [dog whining]

- What?
- I had a little accident.

Got a mop?
I'll clean it up.

Leave it be.
I'll clean it up myself.

Ok, mister.

[dog whining]

The place is called
Bellevue Court.

I drew this from memory,
but it's pretty close.

That's where he's hiding out,
right there.

Are you sure
he's our man, Marty?

Captain, I couldn't go wrong
on that face. He's our man.

Now, there are five
cottages in this area,

and two,
numbers 6 and 7,

in the "L"
at the end of the road.

Our man lives in number 7.

This building department plan
will show you the whole layout.

It's bounded on 3 sides
by Fuller,

Santa Monica and Poinsettia.

Now, the court is partly
surrounded by a high wall.

[telephone ringing]

Breen, homicide.

Good, you keep your eyes open
till we get there.

Morgan has just gone
into his bungalow alone.

Any questions?

All right, you all have
your instructions. Let's go.

[sighing]

[dog whining]

[dog whining]

[dog whining]

[car doors closing]

we're right on time.

Wait five minutes.

Go around and block
the side entrance.

Keep your lights off.

[dog whining]

[dog continues whining]

[light clicks off]

[door closing]

[light clicks on]

[sighing]

[water running]

[light clicks off]

[dog whining]

[dog barking]

[dog barking, whining]

♪♪

[dog whining, barking]

- [crashing]
- [dog barking]

♪♪

He's loose. I want a
radio car in a hurry.

[sirens blaring]

[female operator]
All units.

All units in the vicinity
of Santa Monica and Fuller,

the m*rder suspect in the
Rawlins k*lling is at large.

♪♪

[crashing]

[g*nshots]

[g*nshots]

[tires squealing]

[footsteps echoing]

I want a map covering

the storm drain system
in this area.

Get it and meet me
at Venice and Garfield.

Jones, Miller, you stay here,
in case he comes up for air.

I want a man at every other
drain entrance along this line.

He's got to come up
somewhere.

Come on, Marty.
You're driving.

[footsteps echoing]

[water dripping]

[footsteps]

[car engine rumbling]

[Breen]
Keep this drain covered.

He's liable
to pop out anywhere.

[footsteps]

[footsteps echoing]

[siren blaring]

Why Venice
and Garfield, Captain?

It's the main intersection
of the system.

We could head him
off that way.



Clear frequency 7,
this is an emergency.

[female operator]
Control One

to all cars
on frequency 7, stand by.

Control One to 80-K,
go ahead.

Notify homicide. Send the
following

to Venice and Garfield:

Four squads, battle lanterns,

gas mask, tear gas.
Urgent. This is a Code 3.

[female operator]
Control One to 80-K, roger.

- [sirens blaring]
- [engines rumbling]

[footsteps echoing]

[whimpering, panting]

[footsteps echoing]

And he'll probably head
down this main drain

to where it comes
out at the Rio Hondo.

Now, you take your squad
and cover that exit.

- Right.
- Keep all spare radio cars

cruising back and forth
along this main street.

Watch the curb inlets.
We'll go in here.

[tires screeching]

[footsteps echoing]

Any sign of him?

No. We've searched
every foot between here

and the Rio Hondo outlet.

Then he must
be up ahead.

Let's go.

[clattering]

[footsteps]

[grunting]

[g*nshots]

[g*nshots continuing]

[footsteps]

[g*n cocking]

[g*nshots]

[grunting]

[footsteps echoing]

[g*nshots]

[g*nshots]

The gas g*n.

[g*nsh*t]

[gasping]

[g*nshots]

♪♪