Song of the Thin Man (1947)

[bunniefuu]

Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen.

We sure get a genteel clientele

with these charity shindigs.

Especially the dames.

What class. What refinement.

What cultured tomatoes.

Get a load of that one.

Yoo-hoo.

Boys.

In polite society, we don't say

"yoo-hoo." We say "yoo-whom."

- Nick, hi.

- Hi.

You remember Mrs. Charles.

Hi.

You took the words

right out of my mouth.

What are you doing at this clambake?

You ain't detectiving, are you?

Mrs. Charles thinks we should cultivate

some people who haven't served time.

She wants to create a proper atmosphere

for Nicky Jr.

Junior? How is the little squirt?

The little squirt is fine.

Thanks to your teaching...

he can crack any safe in town now

in 15 minutes.

Thirty-one and black.

Thirty-one and black. Mama, that's us.

You shouldn't talk that way to

my friends. They're sensitive.

I didn't mean to hurt them. I love them.

They're perfect gentlemen,

right down to their fingerprints.

I've got a great idea.

- What is it?

- Let's go home.

What's at home?

- You, my pipe, my slippers.

- I think you're slipping.

Darling, give me my pipe, my slippers


and a beautiful woman...

- and you can have my pipe and slippers.

- That's sweet. But we're staying here.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Buddy Hollis and his famous clarinet.

That reedman

is really whacked up tonight.

You'd be sporting a whack-job, too...

if you were carrying a torch like him


for that little cookie.

Take over, Maxie.

What's wrong?

Boat rocking too much for you?

Or is the reedman's condition

a little too tough to take?

The sensational Buddy Hollis.

Sounded more like a kid with a kazoo.


And his own tune, too.

It's bad enough

getting on the jumping juice...

disappearing for days,

forgetting where he's been.

He doesn't know where he is

when he gets back.

If you ask me,

the guy has blown his top.

What do you expect


after the pushing around we gave him?

Maybe you'd like

to patch things up with him.

Wouldn't that be convenient for you and

the dames you've been chasing around?

You've been peeking.

I must have blown my top...

kicking Buddy over


for a road-company Casanova like you.

There you are.

Bandstand too crowded for you?

Maybe you'd like me

to bring the boys out here.

Sorry, bossman.

You mind taking the girlfriend with you?

Ex-girlfriend.

Brings sunshine into everyone's life,


doesn't he?

Stay out in that sunshine long enough,

you get a third-degree burn.

Where are you going?

I can't stand that oily kisser of yours

too long without another drink.

- Sit down.

- What do you mean?

I said, sit down.

Boys, you'd better get on there.

Hurry up. Come on.

Buddy, darling.

Get him up. He's not hurt.

Get him out of here. He's all right.

You didn't have to hit him.

I should have let him

crease my scalp with that clarinet.

He's beat.

He couldn't lift it that high.

- What did you expect me to do?

- Just what you did.

- He's through. Get him out.

- Wait a minute.

I don't want any part of him.

Get him out.

What goes on here?

Trying to turn this boat

into a fishing barge?

Relax. The band is my business.

On this boat, it's my business.

If that's the way you want it...

when I finish here tonight,

we'll wash up for good.

I don't like fast shuffles, Tommy.

Here's a card right off

the top of the deck:

Mitch Talbin's booked a tour

of dance halls for me.

I can make more money with him

in 30 weeks than with you in 30 years.

You see,

your publicity man did a good job on me.

That awful smell around here

must be your gratitude.

"Gratitude"?

Remind me to look that word up.

I'll be in your office

later for my dough.

"Dough"?

Remind me to look that word up.

I need that money. The bookies

are putting the squeeze on me.

If I'm left holding the bag,

I'll hold everything that's in it.

Remember, nothing foolish.

There he is.

Get him.

What's all the fuss, Al?

- Heard you were going on tour.

- Yeah, first stop, Miami.

I've got a lot of friends in Miami.

Want me to have them look you up?

I intended to pay you

before I left town.

No hurry. We'll be around till closing.

If Mitch Talbin were here,

I'd pay you what I owe you right now.

- I just signed up with him.

- There's Mitch Talbin.

Mitch?

Hello, Tommy. You know Tommy Drake.

I feel as though I

know him intimately.

Yeah,

Baby's quite a fan of yours.

- How we doing, kid?

- I finally had it out with Brant.

Everything okay?

Yeah. It's all set, except that...

- I gotta have some money.

- Sure. Anything you want.

I need $12,000.

$12,000? That's a lot of money.

My luck's been a little sour lately,

Mitch, but...

I'm good for it.

I'll sign my tour money over to you.

I know, but trains get wrecked,

planes crash, you might drop dead.

I gotta think that over.

You'd better think fast.

I gotta have it before closing.

I can think faster after I've had

a drink. Come on, let's sit down.

- But this is important.

- Come on.

Do you want to eat or do you want

a drink or do you want to dance?

I'm sure you wouldn't want to lose this.

- Thank you.

- Not at all.

- Thank you very much.

- You're very welcome.

It's a beautiful thing. The necklace.

- Mr. Charles. Nora.

- Hello.

We've been looking all over for you.

- You know Mr. Thayar, of course.

- Yes.

We saved a place for you at our table.

It's at the other end of the room.

We're table hopping. Excuse us.

- Yes.

- Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- Who are they?

- Just the people who invited us.

- You ought to remember the Thayars.

- I ought?

He presented the museum with a

million dollars worth of antiques.

- He did?

- Yes. They're very nice.

He seems especially nice

for a guy carrying a g*n.

A g*n?

Yes. I felt it just now

when we locked bumpers.

If this rampage of

respectability persists,

we'll have to get you

a b*llet-proof girdle.

If you people think a

gambler like Brant...

is going to turn the entire

evening's proceeds over to charity...

you're being very naive.

- Well, he is.

- Janet arranged it.

I don't know how

she ever persuaded him to.

- That doesn't take much imagination.

- Hello, Mr. Brant.

- You know everybody.

- How do you do?

We were just remarking

about your generosity.

- I'm getting my cut.

- I thought so.

A dance with your daughter.

- May I have that dance now?

- Janet has just finished dancing.

- I'm sure she's tired.

- I'd love to dance.

- Janet.

- David, please.

Maybe, we'd better make this

some other time.

Father, if you'll consult

my birth certificate...

you'll find I'm of

full age and perfectly

capable of making

my own decisions.

- Phil.

- Darling.

I don't think

the blue-blooded Mr. Thayar will like...

the idea of his daughter

being married to a guy like me.

Tomorrow, there won't be anything

he can do about it.

You're sure you want

to go through with it? Maybe, no dice.

It's going to be a natural.

I'll go to my office,

get my things, and some money.

Meet me at the companionway

in 10 minutes.

Rain again.

Thank you, Bertha.

Tell Mr. Charles his breakfast is ready.

Cornflakes before comics.

- But, Mom.

- After breakfast, Nicky.

- Morning, Son.

- Hi, Dad. You look keen.

Beautiful day. I've dressed for it.

- You look like a page out of Esquire.

- Not the page I saw.

I'm through.

Oh, boy! Another m*rder.

How do you like that?

- It's a trap.

- What?

I knew Roy shouldn't have trusted

that Arsenic Annie.

She's a man dressed

in a woman's clothes.

- Annie's a man?

- Sure. It's a dead giveaway.

A dame would never pass a mirror without

looking to see if her slip was showing.

"Dame"?

That's what Daddy always says.

I never say "dame."

I always say "doll." "Dish."

Anyway, it's a very shrewd deduction.

Don't throw the paper away.

I want to read about that m*rder.

Maybe we can figure it out.

Asta.

Father's no longer

interested in murders.

- Good-bye.

- Good-bye?

Nicky, the piano is in the living room.

- But I gotta pitch today.

- Couldn't he practice later?

He's going to the Thayar's

this afternoon to meet their youngster.

They might ask him to play

and I want him to be at his best. Go on.

Asta, you stay out of this.

Come on, Asta.

- Come on.

- Nicky?

Come here.

You see why I'm worried?

He's been ducking his

practicing all week.

I think you're going to have to have

a good spanking.

- Spanking?

- Spanking.

- Very well.

- No, I'm his mother. You're his father.

- I wouldn't have it any other way.

- Nick.

Come here, Son.

I regret that I am going to have

to take a certain corrective action.

I think this is the way they do it.

That was very clever of you, Nicky.

As a reward, you'll have no radio

for the rest of the week.

- But, Mom.

- Your mother is absolutely right.

Go to your room.

Did you know about this glove?

- Why, Nora.

- Pardon me, Mrs. Charles.

A Mr. And Mrs.

Brant are here to see you.

Mr. And Mrs...

Janet Thayar. She did it.

She told me they were going to elope.

Come on.

The newlyweds.

- Congratulations.

- Hello, Mr. Charles.

- What a surprise.

- Mrs. Charles.

Congratulations, Mr. Brant.

If you go out and come back,

we can throw some rice at you.

We'd throw some old shoes, too,

but we're wearing them.

Please forgive us.

We just flew in from Atlantic City.

- When we read the newspapers...

- The secret's out?

- This calls for a celebration.

- A celebration?

Mr. Charles has been

saving his last bottle

of Scotch for just

such an occasion.

Nicky, where is that bottle?

It's in my red pajamas, in the left leg.

Sit down.

Bertha, let's have some ice and soda.

Never mind, we have some.

Hope you don't mind drinking this early.

I could use a drink. I'll be celebrating

being elected public enemy number one.

By the Thayars, you mean.

- You found it.

- It was in the right leg.

Mr. Charles,

I think you have this all wrong.

- Have you read the morning paper?

- No.

I haven't gotten to it yet.

But, I do know that...

Phil didn't do it.

I know many people heard him

threaten Drake. That made it look bad...

but he was just trying

to scare him a little.

This is why we've come to ask your help.

Phil wouldn't sh**t anybody.

I'm sorry.

I'd like to discuss

this matter further, but

I'm afraid it'll have

to be by telephone.

But, Nick.

Darling,

Mr. Brant is wanted by the police.

Our having him here

without notifying them...

makes us accessories after the fact.

And I don't think you'd find

the prison gray very becoming.

I'm sorry we couldn't have a drink.

Perhaps, some other time.

- It's quite all right.

- I don't want to appear inhospitable.

Here, take the bottle with you.

I imagine that shot was meant for me.

- No.

- A fine way to k*ll a bottle.

- What goes on? What happened?

- Go to your room.

That's the m*rder*r from the paper.

Hold on to him. I'll buzz the cops.

You buzz right back to your room.

What happened?

- Did you pick anyone up now?

- I haven't in the last 10 minutes.

Be right back.

Was anyone hurt?

Yes, an old friend of mine

went completely to pieces.

What was it?

- Some drunk rehearsing for the Fourth.

- In September?

He was drunk.

Did you discover anything?

Yes. Never entertain newlyweds

until you've read the morning papers.

There's the Charles' apartment.

Police. Duck in there.

Where is he? We got a flash that

there's a maniac running amuck here.

- What's that? Blood?

- I wish it were.

Mr. Charles and I were trying

to launch our little boy's battleship.

There is something wrong, ain't there?

I'm afraid our son's been listening

to too much radio.

- We get that all the time.

- Just a minute.

You'd be the fair-haired

boys of the force...

if you could bring Phil Brant in, right?

- Phil Brant?

- A little surprise for you.

Come in.

Here you are.

Holy hollering cats. Phil Brant.

That's the sweetest double-cross

I've ever been handed.

The less you say, the better.

But he didn't sh**t anybody.

Somebody even shot at him.

You're a witness, Mrs. Charles.

Hand-picked.

Mr. Brant may be able to fool some

people with that phony sh**ting gag...

but I've seen it pulled far too often

even to be amused.

Somebody did sh**t at him.

By special arrangement

with Mr. Brant himself.

A quaint old maneuver

to divert suspicion.

As they say in the movies,

"They went thataway."

You're right. It's an oldie.

A very old oldie.

It's a lie and he knows it.

But he's the great Nick Charles,

The Mastermind.

We came over here asking your help...

and you've helped Phil

right into the electric chair.

Save it for your lawyer, lady.

Thank you, Mr. Charles. Thanks a lot.

Come on.

I could've sworn

that shot was on the level.

It was on the level.

- What? Then why did you...

- Darling.

With Brant loose, there'd be other

shots. One of them might hit the mark.

He'll be safer in jail.

- Then you don't think he k*lled Drake.

- Oh, that I don't know.

I suppose

jail is the best place temporarily.

But suppose he's innocent

and can't prove it?

Then it wouldn't be so temporary.

- The police do make mistakes.

- Yes, that is a cheerful thought.

Just what I've been thinking.

Of course, if you were on the case...

there would be no mistake.

It's positively sadistic

the way you drive me to work.

- All right, Mrs. Legree.

- My Nicky.

But for the time being,

we'll work without the police.

Nothing new. Get going.

- Hey, Mack. How about it?

- Sorry.

We got your photos this afternoon

with the rest of the news fellas.

Nobody gets on or off that boat

without a pass from the inspector.

You decided what kind of g*n

Drake was shot with?

Ballistics is a little bit puzzled

but they'll figure it out.

- Hey, you, got a pass?

- A pass?

Since when does a peaceful citizen need

a pass to stroll along the waterfront?

There'll be a letter in the

Morning Times about this.

What's the matter now, Callahan?

Patrolman Davis is hungry again.

Got to get him a couple of sandwiches.

Sitting out on that deck

kind of gave me an appetite, too.

What'll it be?

Chowder and be sure it's hot.

My rheumatism's k*lling me.

Cold out there tonight?

Naturally. Whenever there's a job...

involving some slight inconvenience,

such as risking pneumonia...

Michael Callahan gets it.

And a couple of hams on white to go out.

No piccalilli this time.

No piccalilli. What's yours?

A couple of hams on white to go out.

No piccalilli.

Thirty cents.

Sandy, I wish your chowder

was as thick as the fog.

Hey, you.

- Get out of the boat.

- Who are you?

Get out of my boat. That's who I am.

How'd you like

to make yourself a quick $5?

Get into the boat.

I just want you to row me out

to that gambling ship.

Get out of the boat.

- $25.

- Get into the boat.

For $25, I'll give you the boat.

Who's there?

I can't see my eyes before me.

It's Captain Kidd.

Can't you see the rings in my ears?

It's you, Callahan.

Did that come out of you, Callahan?

You'll be answering questions

instead of asking them...

if you can't explain what the anchor's

doing up out of the water.

Anchor? Out of the water?

I'll see about it right away.

Lay off there a ways till I call you.

Callahan, that ain't an anchor

out of the water.

It's a dinghy.

How did that dinghy get there?

Not very neat of the inspector, was it?

What's the excitement, boy?

It's just a razorblade.

Oh, no.

It couldn't have been Somerset Maugham.

Who's that?

It's me, bright eyes.

Who were you expecting? Admiral Halsey?

- What are you doing down there?

- Walking up.

You know any other way of getting

on this ship?

Here are your sandwiches.

Where did you get that?

- You brought it.

- How? By mental telepathy?

You put it on the box when you told me

to go look at the anchor.

- What anchor?

- The anchor that...

Look, Callahan,

you're past the retiring age.

Why don't you put in for your pension?

If you're insinuating

that I gave you that sandwich...

Well, who did?

Captain Kidd with the rings in his ears?

Callahan, if you didn't bring me

this sandwich...

then we've got uninvited guests.

What is it? Smell something interesting?

The maestro.

"A reminder that I love you. Fran."

"Unfaithfully, Joan."

"To Tommy, you dog,

but I can't help it. Alice."

Quiet, Asta.

"Under the Stars, introduced by

Tommy Drake and Orchestra.

"Piccolo's part."

The fine itchy-fingered

hand of Mr. Amboy.

I'll take that piece of music.

If you're afraid of

my bursting into song,

it'd be a bit difficult

with the piccolo part.

- I said, I'd take that piece of music.

- Go easy with that knife.

Just one word from me

and that dog will tear you to pieces.

Give me it before I

let air in your kidneys.

Wait. You win.

I'm afraid these old kidneys wouldn't

take a very good vulcanizing job.

There you are. Get it, Asta.

Drop it.

Come here.

Stop!

Get a hold of him.

- There he is.

- All right, you!

- That explains the dinghy.

- I'll report it to shore.

Asta?

Serenade to a heel.

Alias Tommy Drake.

Do you always feel so light-hearted

about m*rder?

With Drake, that b*llet

was an improvement.

- Solid.

- Who are you?

My name is Nick Charles.

- Cop?

- Cop.

We got a pass from the inspector.

We had to get our instruments.

Let's go fellows. We're packing.

The Constitution says a gate's

got a right to earn a livelihood.

Well, we ain't so lively

without our tools.

Do you know anyone besides Brant...

who might have been interested

in knocking Drake off?

Try the phone book. You may find

a couple names on every page.

Solid.

Wait a minute. He was shot, remember?

What were you doing in Brant's office

last night?

- Me in Brant's office?

- You dropped one of those blades.

Hold the phone.

Every man who uses a reed, uses a blade.

I ain't the only reedman in the band.

That whacked-up Buddy Hollis

was in Brant's office last night.

He was just trying to get his job back.

Did Brant fire him?

Drake fired him.

They had a battle over a dame.

He ain't gonna k*ll

anybody over a dame.

Well, he was in there.

Where can I find this

whacked-up character?

He's been bouncing around

from place to place lately.

You'll probably dig him

in one of the jam joints.

Come again?

Dig him in one of the jam joints.

Where the boys go after closing

and really ride.

Just for cats and intellectuals.

Rooty-toots and bobbysoxers verboten.

Solid.

I don't wear bobby socks,

but would you say I was a "rooty-toot"?

Strictly.

But, I guess I can ace you in.

Considering the resemblance between this

blade and the one in Brant's office...

I think you'd better.

- Shall we go?

- Go?

The dust don't start rising

till deuce-a-bells.

Come again?

He means those jams don't get started

till around 2:00.

Come on, get going.

You can't stay here all night.

Okay, Cossack.

You know the Park Towers?

- Yeah, sure.

- Deuce-a-bells.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Asta, where did you

put that piccolo part?

Where did you put it? No, where is it?

You planning to spend the night?

No, I was just looking

for my instrument.

Is it one of them

big bass tuba things?

Yeah, that's it.

There it is.

Thanks.

If it was any bigger, it'd bite you.

Get it and get.

Solid.

Come in. You're early.

I was getting on a nervous kick,

sitting around there waiting.

- Darling, this is Mr...

- Clarence Krause.

Affectionately known

at Local 802 as Clinker.

How do you do?

The first spot we hit is Mitch Talbin,

big-band booker.

They really flick the

whiskers at his bakes.

I brought along the old licorice stick.

Of course, if the reedman's

already riding, I'm nowheres.

Mrs. Charles always wears her mouth

open with this outfit. Come along.

No.

Swinging the classics

is strictly off the cob.

- Taxi.

- A gate who knows his dots...

takes his Beethoven

and his Brahms straight.

You know what I mean?

Get in.

No, thanks.

- We don't want to intrude.

- Get in.

- I'll be seeing you.

- Get in.

I've been waiting for you to come home.

I thought you were still noseying around

out on the boat.

No, I didn't care so much

for the passenger list.

I've been with the cops all day.

They suspect me for Drake's k*lling

because the guy owed me some dough.

That's silly.

If a guy owes you money and

you k*ll him, he can't pay you.

Very smart.

Elementary.

I tried to tell them Drake paid off.

I even signed a receipt that was written

in Drake's handwriting.

But they couldn't find that receipt.

I sent The Shiv over to see why.

I know you've got that receipt, Nick.

I want the cops to get it.

I want you to tell them

where you found it.

You should have done that right away.

Yes, I intended to.

I'm a little forgetful.

I don't like people

who forget things like that.

See that you don't forget again.

I'll remind him.

- Is that the spot?

- Yeah.

Just a minute.

You forgot something.

Yeah.

You needn't wait.

- Man after my own heart.

- After my heart, you mean.

And probably get it,

if I don't dig up that receipt.

- Dig it up?

- Yes.

- I thought you said...

- It got us out of the cab, didn't it?

They might not have believed

that I didn't have it.

- Oh, Nicky.

- Don't worry, darling.

We're on no spot that a solution

of the crime won't get us off.

Penthouse, you know.

These Talbin jams are the tops.

But, it's like I told you,

strictly for gates and gut-busters.

I'll tell you what.

- You're a slush pump man.

- Come again?

Strictly from Memphis.

And you?

You're a canary, strictly from Memphis.

- "Canary"?

- I could say you pluck a hot harp.

If Mr. Charles doesn't find that

receipt, he'll be plucking a harp.

- Mitch-boy!

- Clinker.

- I see you brought the pipe.

- Ready to light.

I want you to meet a couple of friends.

- Mellow-man McGee and the missus.

- How do you do?

- How do you do?

- Hottest pump man in Memphis.

- Second hottest.

- Do you play an instrument, too?

- No, I'm a mud hen, a bird, a canary.

- A canary?

Strictly from Tennessee.

Talbin had Drake and the band

booked for a big tour.

Tommy didn't leave enough money

for a decent funeral.

Even asked me to square a $12,000 marker

for him before he was shot.

I hope you kissed your $12,000 good-bye.

That money never left the station.

I always thought he was a bad risk.

- New talent, darling?

- This is Baby... Mrs. Talbin.

How do you do?

We met before.

At the Charity Ball? Remember,

when you dropped your necklace?

Yes.

Why aren't you wearing it?

You're wearing the earrings.

It's at the jeweler's,

having the clasp fixed.

Let's get going.

They're starting to roll.

Yeah. Come on in.

What's your name?

Nemo!

Clinkersville. This skin I gotta get.

Put it in the deck.

Shuffle it up and shuffle it up.

- Spread some of that friendship.

- Bop me.

Bop.

Love it.

Come on. Live a little, Ziggy.

Live a little, man.

My body needs lifting. Lay it on me.

I love it.

Hold it, playmate.

Okay, you can save it.

Tommy Drake won't stay dead on me.

From out of nowhere, his broken-down

theme song comes back to haunt me.

Sounds rather catchy.

Tune in, man. I'm talking about that

broken-down Under the Stars jazz.

- Under the Stars?

- Yeah, and the piccolo part, yet.

Piccolo part, what about it? You got it?

Relax man, it's been cremated.

Dig that music.

It sends me out of this world.

- Should have sent you a little sooner.

- Yeah.

I'm sorry, I don't feel it yet.

That ain't it yet. I don't feel it.

That's it.

Yeah. Now I'm getting it.

That's more like it.

Come on, you,

start mixing, let's flip it now.

Clinker, is he here?

- Who?

- The Reed.

No, he ain't here yet.

But it's still early.

Hey, come on, get with it. They'll

think you're a couple of squares.

That don't sound like

the old Hollis juice.

That's Fran. Fran Page.

Hollis' old flame.

Unless I got my photographs

mixed, she had

some fire left over for Mr. Drake,

too.

Yeah, the 88-man grabbed her off

and then he gave her the Fuller.

The "Fuller"?

The brush.

Well, invite her over to the bar

and have a drink.

Okay, order me a double bourbon

and better make it the same for Fran.

- Think she'll like that?

- She can always give it to me.

- Clinker.

- Well, hi-dee-dee! Long time no.

We really rode it high at that shuffle

of yours the other night, didn't we?

- Yeah, it was a wonderful jam.

- Join us for a drink.

I'll have to take a rain check. I'm with

the Nick Charles department tonight.

- Nick Charles, the detective?

- Yeah.

I don't care for anything.

I thought you told us he was a pump man.

I didn't want you to think I was loading

up your jams with a bunch of squares.

They were the squarest hipsters

I've ever seen.

Yeah.

What are they doing

in a trap like this?

They're looking for The Reed.

He's disappeared.

- Really?

- Yeah.

I didn't know that.

Why, I thought that's what

you came here to see Fran about.

No, I came to see her about a job

I can get her in Havana.

Well, hi-dee-dee.

Hey, Fran.

Hello, Clinker.

I just caught you.

Still the same old Fran.

Still plugging The Reed's tune, too.

That's the least I can do for

him, isn't it?

- I've been looking all over for him.

- What do you want, lessons?

Why don't you stay off it?

You know I've always been in his corner.

Sorry. I've got the jumps.

You need some laughs.

Come on out and meet

a couple of friends of mine.

- No, I don't feel like meeting anyone.

- May we come in?

Fran, this is Mr. And Mrs. Nick Charles.

How do you do?

Well, you're very jivey. A hep warbler.

Mr. Charles is a bit of a schmo.

I thought perhaps you might be able

to help us locate Buddy Hollis.

He seems to have evaporated.

Somebody's been giving you a bum steer.

I don't know anything about Hollis.

Where is he?

Why don't you ask me

if I k*lled Tommy Drake?

You probably had good reason to.

Look, your three minutes are up

and this line is busy.

- So hang up the phone and get out.

- What's the fuss?

Get them out of here.

- Just going.

- Okay. Make mileage.

Get lost, you offbeat, rinky-dink.

You're nowhere.

Ree-bop.

I don't believe there is any

such person as Buddy Hollis.

There must be. Missing Persons Bureau

reported him seen...

in Chicago, Denver, Palm Beach and

Hollywood, but all at the same time.

Darling, how could he be

in all those places at the same time?

A split personality.

Well...

I think I detect a receipt-hunting party

of Mr. Amboy's.

Amboy? Nicky!

Asta, get in your own bed.

Now you stay there, Asta.

This wonderful bed.

I'm going to sleep for 20 years.

When you get up, don't wake me.

Nicky! What are you doing up, darling?

I heard your voices.

I hardly ever get to see you.

- Look at what time it is.

- That clock's fast.

Who's going to ride me to school

in the morning?

- Your mother.

- Your father.

We'll both ride you to school.

Now, you kiss this fiend good night,

and I'll plant him.

Come on. Up you go.

Go on. You too, you night owl.

Douse the light.

Here we go.

The Piggyback Express to Sleepy Town.

How about a story, Dad?

No story for you tonight.

You've got to get some sleep.

But, your stories

always put me to sleep.

Well, all right, but just a short one.

Now let's see. Yes.

Once upon a time, there was an outlaw

named Dangerous Dan McGook.

Now one... Well...

- What's this?

- That's protection.

Protection.

I don't think you'd get much protection

from an old blunderbuss like that.

That's just an antique.

Antique.

What about McGook?

Son, I think that story is a little

too scary for this time of night.

- But I like to get scared.

- Well, I don't. It frightens me.

Look, I'll tell it to you

the very first thing in the morning.

- How's that?

- Okay.

- Good night, fella.

- Good night, Pop.

Sleep tight. Good night, Asta.

- What are you doing?

- I'm getting dressed.

Dressed?

Well...

- I might as well get up, too.

- No, you're tired. You stay in bed.

I feel fine.

All I needed was a good night's sleep.

Why all the darkness?

It's dark in here.

Open the curtains

and let some daylight in.

- What time is it?

- 4:00.

- In the morning?

- Yep.

- Same morning?

- Same morning.

What are you getting dressed for?

I'm gonna run over

and visit the Thayars.

At 4:00 in the morning?

That's the best possible time

to ask questions.

People aren't such artful dodgers

at 4:00 in the morning.

- I'm going with you.

- You're going right back to bed.

We're in this together.

I'm going with you.

If I can ever get into my shoes again.

Yes, what is it?

Mr. And Mrs.

Charles to see Ms. Thayar.

I'm sorry, sir. Ms. Thayar's asleep.

It's very important.

You'd better wake her.

- I'm afraid I can't.

- John, what is it?

Ms. Thayar,

this is an unusual time to

come visiting but I've

got to talk to you.

You've done enough talking already.

Janet, I tried to get in touch with you.

Mr. Charles had to do what he did.

- It was for Brant's own good.

- That's a neat switch.

- So now you're his benefactor.

- And yours, too.

Unless you'd enjoy being a widow.

Very well.

- Won't you sit down?

- Thank you.

Ms. Thayar, I... Well.

- Would you like a drink?

- Well, this is my brandy hour.

- Mrs. Charles, would you like a drink?

- I could stand some sherry.

The weapon that k*lled Tommy Drake...

seems to have the ballistics experts

rather neatly stumped.

That leads to one of two

possible conclusions:

Either the g*n was handmade,

or it was a pre-ballistics antique.

Probably very early 18th century.

Perhaps the property of some collector.

Dear me, I'm terribly sorry.

- Here, use this.

- Quite all right. Thank you.

Well, that's very interesting,

but not interesting enough...

to come breaking down doors

at this hour of the morning.

My husband is neither a gunsmith

nor an antique collector.

No, but wasn't the City Museum...

given a million-dollar art collection

by your father?

Yes, Father gave the museum his...

Elizabethan and Chippendale pieces.

His...

Georgian silver...

and yes, his Flemish paintings,

his Reynolds, and his Rembrandt.

Well, that was very generous

of him, indeed.

Your father was a collector

of many things, wasn't he?

Coral, coins, jade,

and, I believe, quite

an assortment of

18th-century firearms.

All the weapons my father had,

pistols or g*ns, went to the museum.

Just a minute, Mr. Charles.

Just a minute.

Your father seems

to have overlooked a few.

Am I to understand that the g*n that

hung here was given to the museum?

No, Mr. Charles.

I didn't give that g*n to the museum.

It was my favorite.

Originally owned

by an 18th-century nobleman.

He used it only once, to destroy

a brigand who had certain aspirations...

toward the gentleman's daughter.

You had that g*n with you

the night Drake was m*rder*d.

Well...

Were you perhaps intending to use

it on a brigand...

who had certain aspirations

toward your daughter?

Perhaps, but he wasn't the man

who was k*lled.

But he and Drake were just about

the same height and build.

In the darkness of a below-decks office,

there could have been a mistake.

True, but before Mr. Drake was k*lled

I was relieved of that g*n...

by my son-in-law.

That's a fine wedding present for you.

Throwing the whole mess

right into Phil's lap.

Here, I want you to feel secure

for the rest of your life.

You won't have anything to worry about

until they throw the switch.

You're lying and you know it. And you...

Yes? This is she.

I see. Yes, of course. Just a minute.

All right.

I see. Of course.

I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me.

- Well, do you wish to arrest me?

- Mr. Thayar, I am not a policeman.

If the police want my testimony,

I'll be glad to oblige.

That'll make the police happy.

Now if you don't mind,

I'd like to go back to bed.

Darling? Mr. Thayar would like

to go to bed.

It's nice to know

people still go to bed.

Mr. Charles and I used

to go to bed once.

Park Towers.

Apartment F, first bedroom to the right.

Driver, hold it.

I should have worn a sleeping bag.

"125 Prospect Terrace.

"Apartment 3A." Look at that.

We're going home. And I'm not tucking

you in bed. I'm tying you in.

If you'll just put your blurry blue eyes

a little closer, you'll see it.

It's the impression left

by the pressure of a pencil.

Oh, yes.

"125 Prospect Terrace."

A phone call at 4:30 in the morning

must be pretty urgent.

I have a hunch our headstrong heroine

will be along soon.

Sometimes I even amaze myself.

- Follow that car?

- Movie fan.

Yes. Follow it.

That jail doesn't look like

125 Prospect Terrace.

She's probably going to tip Brant off

to her father's story.

Your father started threatening me

and I took the g*n away from him.

- What did you do with it?

- I put it on a cabinet in my office.

Never saw it again.

You don't believe me, do you?

- Of course I do.

- You'll have to step on it.

- I told you, this is against the rules.

- Just a moment, please.

- Honey, what'll I do about this call?

- I don't know.

But I guess it's worth a chance.

Be careful.

All right, driver. Keep right on her.

Keep going. You're losing her.

Look, the city shelled out over $10

million to install that traffic system.

I don't think they'd

have given the job to

a guy that spells

"go," capital S-T-O-P.

He's right,

it's spelled with a small "S."

- That sounds like it. Come on.

- No more jam sessions for me.

But that's our clarinet.

Fran Page.

Turn it off, dear, will you?

It must've just happened. That record

would've played for about three minutes.

You don't think that Janet...

- How did this happen?

- I thought perhaps you could tell us.

She phoned me less than a half-hour ago.

Offered to sell me some information

that would help Phil.

Sell or withhold information?

About an antique g*n, for instance?

It's true, Phil got that g*n from

Father. But he didn't use it.

He put it on a cabinet in his office

and never saw it again.

I see.

We followed you until you left the jail

and then we lost you. What delayed you?

The money. She wanted $2,500.

I had to go to Phil's place to get it.

Ms. Page didn't strike me

as a blackmailing type.

I don't think she was.

She said she needed the money

for somebody out of town.

Had to have it in a hurry. She seemed

quite upset and nervous about it.

Hollis doesn't seem

to be anywhere in town.

Hello? Hotel Vesta.

Yes, Ms.

Page stopped here several times.

Was she alone?

Now, we don't go

snooping on our guests.

Their comings and goings

are their own business...

and that applies to your Ms. Page.

She just stayed in her room

and kept to herself.

Except about 1:50 she'd go out and

get back about 3:10, that's all.

Outside of after dinner, when she did

the same thing, only then she'd leave...

about 7:50 and get back about 9:10.

That's all I know about her because

we don't go snooping on our guests.

I don't suppose you'd remember

whether she ever had any visitors?

No question of not remembering. Just a

question of not snooping on our guests.

No concern of ours if

some Al Amboy and a

couple of his friends

come visiting her.

They were nice, polite young gentlemen.

Went out with Ms. Page at the same time.

She never called a cab

and there was never any outside.

So I just decided she liked

to take walks for her health.

If you've come to fish for information,

you've come to the wrong place...

because we never go snooping

on our guests.

- Mr. Purdy, telephone.

- Yes.

1:50, 3:10. 7:50, 9:10.

Sounds like visiting hours.

Those are visiting hours.

He latched onto something, teacher.

Are there any public institutions,

a jail, a prison, or a hospital...

- within 10 minutes walk of here?

- Fast walking or slow walking?

Never mind.

But you're sure there's no Hollis there?

I see.

Unless you want to try the city pound,

the dump, or the waterworks...

that just about takes care of all the

public institutions in Poughkeepsie.

Maybe he's in some private institution.

Clinker, you're magnificent.

We have to walk 10

minutes in various

directions till we find

the right institution.

- You've got the nose of a bloodhound.

- Don't let him worry you.

The rest of your face looks fine.

Ten minutes right on the nose

of the bloodhound.

And we're running out of directions.

- "Valley Rest Home"?

- Well, let's have a look.

I'm afraid Mr. Hollis' condition

will not permit visitors.

- Exactly what is his condition?

- Exactly how does that concern you?

Dr. Monolaw, we're his friends.

We have the right to see him.

Unless you produce him,

I'll produce the police.

- Bring in nine.

- Yes, sir.

Mr. Hollis has not had

very many visitors.

His mind has been completely shattered

by alcohol.

He sits in his room and plays the same

melody over and over without variation.

I must ask you to be

very careful with him.

He seems to be suffering from

a deep-rooted guilt fixation.

Visitors have a somewhat disturbing

effect on him.

Sometimes, an alarming effect.

Buddy, there are some friends to

see you. They want to talk to you.

Hi, kingpin.

I see you got the old jute-flute.

I heard you breezing it just now.

Still headman, kid.

Come on, candy-boy.

Don't you recognize me?

This is the old Clinker.

Remember how we used to belt it out

at those jam sessions?

Well, I just came up here

to see how you feel.

Well, I thought maybe there was

something you might want. Radio?

Noise box.

Nothing happens.

The poor guy is nowhere.

Buddy, the boys at the boat

have been asking about you.

The boat?

They think you got a pretty rough deal

from Tommy Drake.

Nurse.

It's all right, Buddy.

Visiting hours are over.

- Isn't there any way to make him talk?

- Lf there is, I don't know it.

Why do you think

he kept staring at me that way?

Probably identified you with a Ms. Page.

She came to see him.

She was very kind to him.

Do you think that

perhaps if I were alone...

Much too risky.

This has upset him.

He may become violent.

I'm sorry, I will not permit it.

Well, we'll have to try something else.

Thank you, Doctor. I'll be back.

You apparently have time to waste.

I'm sorry, I haven't.

I'm sorry, but I'll be back.

I think maybe he'd open up

if we kept coming around or something.

I think I'd rather figure out

some "or something."

Darling, I'm not very hungry.

I think I'll go back to the hotel

and freshen up.

Well...

I have half of

Poughkeepsie on my face.

I like that corner particularly.

We'll join you as soon as we finish.

- Who gets the bone?

- I do.

Well, we'll just send

it to the laboratory.

Have we any report

on yesterday's case?

Not yet.

I'm worried about that.

Hello, Buddy.

You're not afraid of me, are you?

I'm a friend of Fran's.

You remember Fran?

We're doing an act together now.

Great little partner, Fran.

We always feature your song.

Tears the place apart.

Go on, play it.

It's my favorite tune, too.

I suddenly got a sneaking suspicion that

she wasn't going back to the hotel...

so I checked and found I was right.

She didn't come back here to take

a second crack at Hollis, did she?

I'm sorry to disappoint you,

Mr. Charles. Your wife is not here.

Please.

That's swell, Buddy.

Swell.

Buddy,

I want you to tell me...

Fran always used to

come in right on cue.

I'll breeze it again and you try it.

Well, go on. Take it.

I can't. I have a sore throat.

I caught a cold last night.

I'll tell Fran I saw you.

I'll tell her you

played the song for me.

- You don't sing with Fran.

- I'm trying to...

You never sang with Fran.

They sent you to spy on me.

No.

They told you to say

that Fran sent you?

No.

Yes, I k*lled Drake.

Now I have to k*ll you.

That's what I hid the g*n for.

- No, nobody... Don't sh**t.

- I have to k*ll you.

No, Buddy, don't.

- Darling.

- I'm all right.

- Take it easy, boy.

- How did he come to have a g*n?

Don't you search the rooms

of your patients?

This is a rest home, not a jail

or an asylum. Give him some water.

- And some hand grenades to play with.

- That's the m*rder g*n.

- He confessed he k*lled Tommy Drake.

- I see.

- I'll take that.

- Just a minute.

I think this may interest the police.

Let's go.

- Yes, I'm calling New York.

- Darling, why bother to call?

- We'll be home in a couple of hours.

- I want to hear my son's voice.

For a moment there,

I didn't think I'd ever hear it again.

- Hollis didn't look like a k*ller.

- Maybe he isn't.

He admitted it,

he even took a shot at me.

For a complete miss.

- Meaning what?

- Meaning that in his condition...

he couldn't hit the

ocean from a rowboat.

And Tommy Drake was shot

right through the middle of the heart.

Then why did he confess?

Cracked minds play

funny tricks on you.

And, by the same token, you can play

funny tricks on cracked minds.

Now I have a hunch that Fran Page

knew exactly who the trickster was.

That's why she was m*rder*d.

I see.

All you have to do to prove your

innocence is confess your guilt.

Yes, I'm calling New York.

Hello?

Hello, Mrs. Charles.

I just came up to talk to your husband.

No, I can't talk to him on the phone.

I'll wait.

- May I talk to her, please?

- Bertha?

- Yes, she's here.

- May I talk to her, please?

- Hi, Mom. When are you coming home?

- Hello, darling.

I'm afraid we won't be able

to have dinner with you again.

Yes. You can stay up until 9:30.

We'll come in and kiss you

when we get home.

Tell Bertha we'll be

home in a few hours.

Okay, I'll tell her as soon as

she comes in. Bye.

As soon as... Nicky?

Come on, Mammy.

We don't want to settle in Poughkeepsie.

What's the matter?

Nothing. Janet's waiting at the

apartment. She wants to talk to you.

Well, it's all set. The hound can ride

with us in the baggage car.

Do you always have to ride in

the baggage car because of the M-U-T-T?

He understands every word.

- Two spades.

- Two no trump.

With a hand like this

I should have a finger bowl. I pass.

- Three no trump.

- I pass.

What do you think?

He needs glasses.

Yes, either that

or he has something in his eye.

- What is it, boy? A cinder?

- Here, let me see.

Come here. Hold still.

Say, let me see that.

Why, that's the same... Of course,

I remember the lace perfectly.

- Where did you get this?

- Eve's Fifth Avenue, I think.

- I mean, is it yours?

- I only steal c*ck napkins.

Of course it's mine. No, it's Janet's.

When she spilled that drink last night,

I must have taken it.

Yes, I had that bag.

This is exactly like the handkerchief

that was lying beside Fran Page's body.

I thought it was odd that Miss Janet

got there after we did...

and then burst in without knocking.

Janet's home alone with Nicky.

- What do you mean, alone?

- I thought I didn't hear right.

Nicky said Bertha was out.

Nick, Janet got rid of her.

She lied to me.

She said that Bertha was there.

Why would she lie to me unless...

You know how she hates us.

She blames us for everything.

This may be her way of...

Nick, what'll we do?

- How long before we get to New York?

- An hour, at least.

- Hour?

- Yeah.

Now, nobody's gonna hurt a little kid.

No, that's right, Mommy.

No one would hurt a little boy.

Only a few more minutes.

How could you leave him alone

with a strange woman?

I thought she was your friend.

She only wanted me to go to the

druggist to get her headache pills.

I wouldn't have gone,

only she looked so pale and weak...

- I couldn't refuse her, could I?

- Why couldn't you refuse her?

- Darling, how could she know?

- I'm sorry.

Mr. Charles, not a sign of him.

I've been all over the neighborhood.

The elevator boy remembered

taking him down...

and that Thayar chick told him

to tell Bertha they'd be back soon.

Two hours is quite a little while.

Your kid.

Yeah, we'll get on it right away.

Yes, right away.

Made you some fresh coffee.

- Thank you, Bertha.

- None for me.

You'd better have some, darling.

It'll calm your nerves.

Check with the police again.

Darling, I've checked five times.

They're tearing up the town.

- Lf anything pops, they'll call us.

- Hey, Mom, Pop.

Nicky, darling.

I've been pinched.

Where'd you find them, Kramer?

Nabbed them outside the Capitol Theatre.

Darling, would you take Nicky

to his room, please?

Come, dear.

Ms. Thayar, I'm afraid

I'm going to have to be blunt.

- Just exactly what's the idea?

- I'll be glad to tell you.

If you'll just give me

a chance to catch my breath.

Thank you very much.

It's a pleasure.

I'll report to headquarters.

Well?

While Bertha was out,

you had some visitors.

They insisted upon waiting for you.

One of them kept playing with a knife.

- Yes?

- The other kept eyeing Little Nicky...

and repeating how tough it'd be

on you if anything happened to him.

I got worried. I took him to the bedroom

and pretended to put him to bed...

and I took him out the bedroom door.

I'm very grateful to you for that.

But I can't understand it

making such a fuss.

Well, perhaps this will explain.

That's what I came to see you about.

Yes, I did get to Fran's apartment

before you.

She was dead when I got there.

I was going to remove the knife...

and then I remembered

about fingerprints,

so I took out my handkerchief.

But I just couldn't.

So I got up and ran...

and I was afraid of being seen

and I started down the back staircase.

Suddenly, I remembered the handkerchief.

I rushed back to get it and found you.

I don't know why I didn't tell you

about it. I guess I just got panicky.

That's the truth. Please believe me.

- You awake?

- No, I'm asleep.

- Why are your eyes open?

- I'm counting sheep.

I'll bet they're black ones...

like Amboy and his pals.

And Brant and Hollis.

And Fran Page.

Are you sure her m*rder

was tied up with Drake's?

I think it adds up.

Fran Page was going to talk.

If she intended to pin

the Drake m*rder on Hollis...

why should anyone

have wanted to k*ll her?

Hollis is hopelessly insane...

totally unresponsible for his acts.

She was obviously going to pin it

on someone else.

And that someone else did away with her.

Then with Hollis in his present

condition and taking the blame...

this someone else probably feels

pretty safe.

But suppose Hollis regained his senses?

All you'd have to do

is perform a miracle and cure him.

The impression that Hollis is cured

and ready to talk is all we'd need.

What would happen?

The k*ller would certainly try to get

him before he had a chance to talk.

That might be our chance

to get the k*ller.

Mammy, I think we're going to reopen

the S.S. Fortune.

We?

You and I, and the police department.

My Nicky.

- Albert.

- Mr. Brant.

- My table.

- I didn't know you'd be here tonight.

- The only table I have left is...

- Darling, it's a wonderful crowd.

Nick, what worries me...

Table three, Mr. Brant.

Is that all right?

That's okay.

- George, table three for Mr. Brant.

- Yes, Mr. Brant.

He promised they'd come.

If they do, I want them at our table.

What's all this finger business about?

I'm having the most likely candidates

seated where I can watch them squirm.

I hope it goes as

smoothly as you expect.

If anything should

happen to poor Hollis.

I've taken every precaution.

Sergeant, your slip is showing.

Thanks. There's the inspector.

- Everything all right, Nick?

- All right.

Now all we have to do is sit quiet

and keep our fingers crossed.

I have so many fingers crossed now,

I can't lift my drink.

Some shiny eyes in the jungle.

- Albert.

- Mr. Talbin.

- Our reservations.

- Of course.

Just a moment, please.

- Table four, Mr. Talbin.

- Thank you.

- George, table four.

- Yes, Mr. Talbin.

- Well, my old friend slush pump.

- How do you do?

- Do you attend all the openings?

- Naturally. It's my business.

If Hollis has really

come out of the fog...

and is half as good as he was,

I can book him.

I think he's going to surprise you.

- Stunning jewelry. Those earrings.

- Very attractive.

The earrings are higher up.

The charm boys.

Table for four.

- AI Amboy.

- Yes, Mr. Amboy.

Table two, Mr. Amboy.

Henry, table two.

This way, please.

- Good evening, Mrs. Amboy.

- Good evening.

How did you enjoy

your trip to Poughkeepsie?

I loaned Fran Page the dough

to send Hollis up there.

He's okay now, so I'm here to collect.

Someday I'm going to take lessons from

you on how to get blood out of a stone.

I just have my boys

break it up into little pieces.

Remind me not to turn my back

on that little group tonight.

That Mrs. Amboy,

the necklace she's wearing.

- She can afford it.

- But it matches Mrs. Talbin's earrings.

- Let's have champagne tonight.

- Sure.

I don't feel like dancing,

let's sit this one out.

Anything you say, Baby.

How much would a trinket like that cost?

- Darling.

- $12,000?

The value is unimportant.

It's the thought.

The thought happens to be

that $12,000 is just about...

the amount that Drake owed Mr. Amboy.

Well, bossman, everything looks set.

The Doc says the joint's having a kind

of a restorative effect on The Reed.

He's even got him convinced

that he's never been away...

that all the m*rder biz was strictly

a bad dream.

So he'll play all right.

He'll look good up there, too.

Well, prettier the bait,

the better the catch.

Come again?

That's an old saying I just made up.

Look, bossman...

Fishes number five and six

are beginning to nibble.

- Five.

- I beg your pardon?

Good evening.

I was using my influence

to get you a good table.

We're sitting with Mr. Brant.

I didn't think you people

could be dragged into this place.

We couldn't very well

offend Mr. Brant.

After all,

he's a member of the family now.

We'll see you later.

Mr. Thayar, I ran across your g*n...

at the Valley Rest Home in Poughkeepsie.

The inspector insisted

that I leave it with him.

He had some strange notion that since

Brant is a member of your family now...

he's trying to shield you.

The inspector is famous

for his little jokes.

Hey, bossman,

I hate to bring this up but...

I don't know about

sitting next to The Reed.

Suppose somebody takes a shot at him

and misses.

Would you rather he were hit?

No, but if you miss one thing,

well, you're bound to hit another.

And I thought, instead of being up

on the stand beside him...

I could, kind of, play off-stage?

Why don't you play at the table?

That would be even safer.

Unless our m*rder*r

makes a cushion shot.

That's what I like. Sympathy.

If you saw something you knew

wasn't there, what would you do?

I'd go back to Poughkeepsie

with Dr. Monolaw.

And you saw a blank space

where you knew something should be?

I see that all the time. What is it?

Mrs. Amboy's necklace.

She isn't wearing it anymore.

I don't like it.

Sorry,

but that's the way it's got to be.

- She isn't.

- And Mrs. Talbin is wearing it.

- It matches her earrings perfectly.

- What do you get out of it?

A sudden urge to merge with the Talbins.

Come on.

I am sending Johnson to Rio to close

the deal. He'll be a sensation.

They've never seen anything like him

in this country.

This is not really my racket.

I have to give her one whirl

to keep the franchise.

Yes, I know what you mean.

I wanted to ask you to have a drink

with us but those tables...

are hardly big enough to hold one.

Have a drink with us

when you finish dancing.

We're finished.

Waiter.

- It's a wonderful opening.

- Yes, isn't it?

Think Hollis will ever be able

to take Drake's place?

Nobody will ever be able

to take Tommy Drake's place.

Yes, I know how you

folks feel about him.

After all, it was you who cleared up

his debt, wasn't it?

I told you I didn't

let him have the money.

What difference?

$12,000 or a necklace

probably worth more.

I don't know what

you're talking about.

You should.

Didn't you just redeem the necklace?

Mrs. Talbin's been wearing that necklace

all evening.

In that case, somebody had better tell

Mrs. Amboy she's lost hers.

Wait a minute.

I just redeemed the necklace

in the powder room.

- What?

- I gave it to Amboy that night.

I didn't want anything to happen

to Tommy Drake.

And I nearly threw a $100,000 tour

in that guy's lap.

That tour would have meant

a lot of money to you, too, wouldn't it?

Of course, but...

But you wouldn't advance him

the $12,000...

even though you knew Amboy was

preparing a cement kimono for him?

I told you he was a bad risk.

Seems very puzzling.

But I'm sure that Hollis

will soon make it all very clear.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

Buddy Hollis and his famous clarinet.

After the number, he will make

an announcement...

that's going to throw a bombshell

into the Tommy Drake m*rder case.

- Lf the party gets rough, duck.

- I'm practically under the table now...

but not the way I'd like to be.

Well, Buddy, I guess this is it.

Time for that little bombshell.

Buddy, tell everyone

how Tommy Drake was m*rder*d...

how the m*rder*r took advantage

of your condition...

and planted a g*n on you

and then worked on you...

till he convinced you

you'd k*lled Drake...

and how, with m*rder on your conscience,

you went to pieces.

Tell them why Fran Page was m*rder*d...

how she came to visit you several

times at the Valley Rest Home...

and gradually pieced things together

and threatened to talk.

Tell them about the someone

who went to her apartment...

to try to keep her quiet and couldn't...

and how he turned on

her phonograph, loud...

so that her screams couldn't be heard

as he plunged his knife into her.

You told me who he is.

You told the police.

Now tell all these people who he is.

Tell them.

Come on, Buddy. Tell them.

Never mind, Buddy. I'll tell them.

It's true about Fran.

I k*lled her. I had to.

And I k*lled Tommy Drake.

I didn't intend to.

I wanted to keep him away from Phyllis.

I went to reason with him and when

I saw that g*n on the cabinet...

I think we know the rest.

I don't think you do.

Everything would have been all right

if you hadn't meddled into it.

This is the last time

you're going to meddle...

Keep away, all of you.

Don't touch him.

You knew about Tommy and me all along.

Weren't you clever?

That's why you wouldn't lend him

the money.

You wanted Amboy to k*ll him.

But I crossed you up by paying Amboy off

with my necklace.

I couldn't let him

take you away from me.

I thought Phil Brant did it.

That's why I took a shot at him...

at the Charles' apartment.

But you did it!

Let the police have him.

I swore I'd k*ll the man

who shot Tommy Drake.

Well, I guess you did.

And to think you did it all

with your own little hatchet.

- I'm proud of you, darling.

- Thank you, angel.

- Now, Nick Charles, is going to retire.

- You through with crime?

No, I'm going to bed.

That reminds me.