Slightly Honorable (1939) - full transcript

[THEME MUSIC]

-More events of the past week
have again focused attention

on our slipshod state
highway laws, laws which

allow a corrupt highway
commission to award contracts

to anyone they choose
without the obvious benefits

of competitive field bidding.

The most flagrant
examples is our recently

completed Governor
Clifton Highway.

-The irony of faith.

Clarence Buckman was killed
on his own rotten highway.

-How long are the people
of this state going



to tolerate these
corrupt conditions?

-Both the evil and its
cure are to be found today

at Clarence Buckman's funeral.

Vincent Cushing, the evil.

Head of the state's
crooked political machine.

John Webb, brilliant young
attorney, and his partner,

Russ Sampson, the two
men who, if they would,

could cure the evil.

-You know something?

-This is the first time Clarence
has ever been on the level.

-Better get a couple
more of Cushing and Webb.

-Well, why so many
of the same two guys?

-Listen, thickhead.

The next time those
two get together,



they may be tough to
photograph, because one of them

will probably be in the box.

-Tell me something, Cushing.

What do you pave
the highways with?

Tapioca?

-Yeah, we add raisins
to make it hard.

-Sounds awfully rich to me.

-Phew.

This heat is killing me.

-We should complain.

I got Clarence.

-Stand at ease, pal.

I'll go in and put the finishing
touches on Senator Scott.

-Right.

-Well, Sam, have you looked
into your little crystal ball?

-Yes, but it didn't tell
me who's behind you.

-Sam, coming from me,
there's going to be a shock.

This thing is honest.

My clients want
just a fair crack

at all the highway
projects from now on.

Under the present setup,
with Cushing in full control

of the commission, all the road
contracts go to his clique.

-Yeah, but fighting
Cushing's political machine

is a pretty big order, John.

Just where do we begin?

-With an amendment to
the Barry Highway Bill.

Simply stipulates that
all road contacts from now

on be let on the
basis of [INAUDIBLE],

giving everybody an even break.

Of course, you realize that
all my clients are definitely

interested in your campaign
for the United States senate?

-You're a mighty
convincing talker, John.

-Sam, you'll be in there
pitching for a great cause.

-Yeah, but I'm not the
crusader I was at 35.

However, I'll try squeezing
into the old armor again.

Suppose Cushing will sic
his new Gazette on me.

-About what?

The only thing smelly about
your past are those cigars.

And you can change your brand
when you get to Washington.

-What goes, [INAUDIBLE]?

-Well, Scott's going
through for us,

but we have to do
all the dirty work.

-I shall polish up my
best brass knuckles.

-I think you'd better.

It's going to be
that kind of a fight.

And you know Cushing's
gang, no holds are barred.

-For the people.

-For the $100,000 retainer fee.

-That ain't chopped liver.

-Look, you'd better
go out and dig up

all the dirt you can on
the Highway Commission.

Find out how they get their
cuts from Cushing and check on--

-Yeah.

---cross with the
other states and see

if you can get some fireworks--

-Same old Johnny.

-Alma!

Honey, you just stepped
off a magazine cover.

-He knows I'm a sucker
for a pretty speech.

-Man, can't I get rid of you?

-Nope.

-Well, I'm sorry.

This is Russell, um--

-Sampson, remember?

-Yeah, Sampson.

Alma Brehmer.

This is my partner.

In a business way.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

-Well, you certainly
look gorgeous.

Whatever did happen
to you and me?

-I won't listen if
you don't want me to.

-Oh, it's perfectly all right.

There's nothing private about
yesterday's blighted romance.

-Blighted romance?

I never got to
first base with you.

Now I suppose it's
too late, huh?

-Yeah, that's right.

The only thing any good
warmed over is spaghetti.

-How about a fast drink?

-No, I-- I'm sorry.

I can't.

I'm meeting a gentlemen friend.

-And it's not Cushing?

-Oh, yes it is.

Coming to his party tonight?

Why don't you?

I'll tell him that
I invited you.

-No, thanks.

I'll mix my own Mickey Finns.

-Yes?

-What time's the party?

-Any time after
9:00 at the Riviera.

-I'll be there.

You'll know me.

I'll be wearing an armored car.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

-(SINGING) You've been after me.

Feel a bump, bump,
bumping in my heart,

I know the drip drip
drip [INAUDIBLE].

Feeling as though I'm
reeling round the boy.

Oh, you got me.

I can't deny you.

I can't be quiet.

Come on and take
me to [INAUDIBLE].

You've had me.

Oh, he knows I'm wiling with
a guy that's got a smooth

[INAUDIBLE].

Oh, we've got love.

Kisses.

What an opportunity--

-I hope there aren't any
nice girls around tonight.

They make me nervous.

-You haven't any
cause for alarm.

-Hey, Captain, look
at the starboard bow.

Very interesting.

Take a look.

Shall we pick it up?

Aye-aye, sir.
-Wait a minute.

What about Alma?

-Save my place in
line, will you, Cappy?

Woo!

I'm a mustang.

-You like [INAUDIBLE] soda?

-Yes, thanks.

-Don't throw him out.

I invited him in a weak moment.

-I know you're
greeting for Clarence.

Move over, I'll greet with you.

-In case misjudge
all this levity,

the after-funeral feast
is a legitimate custom

dating back to feudal days.

-Mmm?

You've grubbed off a lot of
feudal customs, haven't you?

-Come on, Johnny.

You're missing out
on something special.

-Sure, I'm in the mood
for something special.

-(SINGING) Oh, he's got me.

Yes, sir.

I just can't fight him.

No, sir.

Though I despise him,
oh, come on and take me,

dark and handsome.

You've been after me.

Oh, I know I haven't
got a chance--

-I think I see what you mean.

-(SINGING) I hope and pray
that love will come today.

-Once in a while, she
goes a little flat.

[APPLAUSE]

-Not from where I stand.

-She'll be up with
the other girls.

Let's refuel.

Hey, you'd better
have something cool.

-Listen, you, I got
a complaint to make.

This is a nice girl.

How did she get in here?

-Even Cushing can
make a mistake.

-You got me wrong.

I'm the clean-cut type.

Crack of dawn, the early worm--
come on, I'll buy you a drink.

-Tell me, what have
you got against him?

-A whole list.

-Start at the top.

-All right, I will.

Number one, Alma
Brehmer, number two--

-Darling, you're not reviving
that tired old monster,

jealousy, are you?

-All right, you
stick with Cushing.

You'll wind up great.

GEORGE TAYLOR: I'm
look for Alma Brehmer.

-Oh, George Taylor.

I recognize the smog.

-There's Cushing--
then she's here.

She's my wife and
she's coming with me,

or I'll wring her silly neck.

-Out of my way, Godena.

-You certainly can pick them.

-How did I know I was
marrying [INAUDIBLE]

in the ballroom floor?

-There's now an [INAUDIBLE]
for another $50,000

in the settlement.

Might have come in handy
for laying up those winter

groceries.

-Good old Johnny.

Always worrying about
everybody but himself.

Golden years are
whizzing by, and what's

happening to our Mr. Webb?

-What do you mean, I need
the love of some good woman?

At that, I often wonder how you
and I didn't work out together.

We might have been
good for each other.

-Yeah.

Yeah, can you imagine me coming
home with the evening paper?

Meeting you at the gate of the
rose-covered cottage with a gas

bill in one hand and an
apple pie in the other?

-You know something?

I used to make a
swell apple pie.

-I bet you did.

I like apple pie.

Think you still
know how to make it?

-Oh, I don't think so.

I lost the recipe
for a lot of things.

-Ah, you're just
out of practice.

-Why kid ourselves, Johnny?

Boat sailed.

[CHATTERING]

-You wait right here.

Whisky?

-Yeah, with plenty of gin.

-Two highballs.

-Look, darling,
doesn't that come

under the head of
unfinished business for you?

-You know something?

I still bet you can
make a great apple pie.

-Here we are.

-Oh, thank you.

Hello.

-Hi, Cupcake.

You want to dance?

-Oh, I'd love to.

-Hello, honey.

-I've got to dance
with one of the guests.

Like you said.

-Remember?

Like you said?

-My name's Anne Seymour.

-Mine's John Webb.

-Are you a politician, too?

-No.

No, I'm a lawyer.

-Certainly enjoyed your
performance tonight.

-Ooh, it is artistic, isn't it?

-Yeah.

Yeah.

-Penny for your thoughts?

-You're getting generous, Pete.

-I was a chump to think you'd
ever give me a tumble after you

got a flash at that
Cushing bankroll.

-Look.

There are very few things in
my life that I really regret.

One of them is the
time I wasted on you.

-Cool off, Snow White.

Now, let's you and me have a
little heart-to-heart talk,

hmm?

-What would you use?

-Must have guessed by
this time that dancing

is not quite my [INAUDIBLE].

Would you like to sit down?

-Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, I'd just love to sit.

Come on.

Come on.

Sit here.

You know, I'm so glad
you liked my number,

because, well,
people don't know all

the rehearsal people have to do.

Now, for instance this morning.

I tried for over an hour
just to hit the right note,

and I couldn't make it.

Now, you wouldn't
believe that, would you?

-Hmm?

Oh, yes.

Yes, I would.

-Want to know something else?

The girl I live with,
[INAUDIBLE] her name is,

of course isn't her real name,
and I call her Smelly Annie,

but it isn't such a good
joke because her name

isn't Anne either.

But she does use a lot of
perfume and she's psychic.

And she said, if I
played my cards right,

I could get to be a
radio singer and then

just make barrels of do-re-mi.

That's slang for money.

And then I could save, and
by the time I'm 21, well,

I could have everything.

-Hold it.

How old did you say you were?

-18.

-You sure?

-Mm-hmm, and, ah, 2 months.

Oh, I can remember
my fifteenth birthday

in a Long Island mansion.

My father threw me
a coming out party.

We were very rich
millionaires then,

and that was just, ah, three
years ago, so that makes me--

-Yeah.

Yeah, 18 and 2 months.

-Well, what's the matter?

I like you.

-Now, look, Puss.

Why don't you go
out and get yourself

a nice, young college fellow?

You're just too young
to decide who you like

and who you don't like.

-Yeah.

Yeah, I guess so.

Must be like those fishing laws
where if you catch anything too

young, you have to
throw them back in.

-Yeah.

Yeah, you gotta
throw them back in.

-Now you can't date me, huh?

-That's right.

Now I can't date you.

-But I can date you, I
mean, because you're over

21 and that makes--

-No.

That doesn't work out that way.

You go out and get yourself
a nice, young college boy.

-Oh, but look, I don't want
a college fellow, because--

-I don't particularly
thrive on competition.

-Silly, he's only my lawyer.

-You'll get a new
one in the morning.

-Vincent, I hope
that isn't an order,

because I don't take them.

-Let go of me, oh, let me go.

Let me go!

-Oh, that swine.

Vincent, stop him.

-Why, you big bully.

You-- Oh!

-What's the matter
with you, here?

Are you paralyzed?

Call me tomorrow, Peter.

I know a good dentist.

Come on, Cinderella.

Let's take off.

-What happened?

-Small Parts just cut in.

-Webb, I didn't expect you to
act like one of the Robo Boys.

-Oh, that's what
fascinates people.

The many sides to my character.

Maybe I'll them all
to you sometime.

-Now, wait a minute.

Don't try anything funny.

Remember, I'm sober.

-Gee, you were grand.

The rest of them
were really scared.

[HUMMING]

-Good evening, Mr. Webb.

You're in early this morning.

-I'm all right.

-Mr. Webb, have you been having
words with somebody again?

-Hmm?

Oh, no, that's nothing.

Just a little bite.

-Mr. Webb, you sure
give your womenfolks

a lot of wear and tear.

-Goodnight, Art.

-Goodnight, Mr. Webb.

-Gee!

Looks just like a place
that you wouldn't live in.

-No kidding?

What is?

-Oh, I like it.

Ooh.

Forgot about my foot.

[INAUDIBLE] big bully.

-All right.

Uncle John needs to take a look.

-My father had a room like this
in our old plantation mansion

in Virginia.

But, of course, that was
before we lost our millions.

-You said your mansion
was in Long Island.

-Well, that was
the summer mansion.

-Oh.

You said they had
a lot of millions?

-Oh, yes, yes.

Millions of them.

You'll feel better after
you have some coffee.

-Thanks for fixing my foot.

-This'll warm you up.

-Oh, I'm not cold.

-Hey.

Wow.

-What's the matter?

-Put on your dress, will you?

-Oh!

You got a great, big spot
on your beautiful rug.

Have you got any benzine?

-Look, Puss.

Will you put on your dress?

You embarrass me.

-Oh.

I had to take it off to
find out where it was torn.

-You see?

I could sew it up here, but
then the seam would show.

-Oh.

-I could take it in
here, but, well, then

that would make it droop here.

-Well, that might
be very becoming.

-Well, yes, but it would
ruin the style of the dress.

-Well, you could sew
it up here, maybe.

-Then I couldn't sit down.

Prettiest dress I ever had, too.

-You're sure you're 18?

-Mm-hmm, and 2 months.

Because my birthday
was on the same day

that Uncle Elmer
busted a blood vessel.

-Right now, I know just
how Uncle Elmer felt.

Look, Puss.

But the body in the dress,
and I'll put you in a cab.

Come on.

You know, you might
buy another dress,

and you wouldn't have to
worry about those seams.

They might not become
an international issue.

-Jeepers.

A hundred dollars?

Boy!

I like you!

-Will you put on the dress?

-All right.

Pull it down, please.

-Now, look.

It's past your bedtime.

-OK.

Zip me.

-You're zipped.

Come on.

-Goodnight.

-Goodnight, Puss.

-Oh, wait a minute, Art.

You know, it must be
getting monotonous.

But I like you.

Goodnight.

-Uncle Elmer.

-Good morning, Miss Ater.

-Hello, Johnny.

-Any mail?

-You don't mind if I
look at it, do you?

-Oh, now look what you did.

Do you want to knock
it all crooked?

-Why not?

-Now, look.

Just because you took me
to dinner a few times--

-Two times.

-And brought me a few drinks--

-A few gallons.

-It doesn't give you the
to treat me like one.

-What, now what do
I treat you like?

-Well, I don't like
your nasty innuendos.

And I don't have to hold still
for such cracks, neither.

-Get me Mike Daley on
the phone, will you?

-Please.

-Please.

-Well, yes, Mr. Webb.

He's here.

-Hey, hey!

-Hey.

Telephone for you, Mr. Daley.

-Oh.

That's very gracious of you.

Hello?

-I had a beef with that
rat Godena last night.

I got a little tomato by the
name of Anne Seymour involved.

Afraid he might
take it out on her.

-I'll tell her everything.

-See that no one
gets rough with her.

So long, sweetheart.

-What's that?

-My new nail file.

-Well, is there something
I can do for you?

Sharpen a few
pencils or something?

-Now you made me forget
what I came in for.

-Surprise!

-That was it.

-You'll just go crazy
when you see the picnic.

But it's--

-Look, Puss.

I've got a lot of work to do.

-Oh, I'll bet you have.

Smelly Annie says any man
who can give a girl $100 just

like that must keep his nose
right to the grindstone.

You know, she can snap
her fingers there.

You got a paper opener?

Let me see, here.

What?

Oh, boy.

Look.

It has the biggest pleats.

Do you want to see it on?

Here, it'll only take a minute.

-Puss, take it easy.

-Say, Johnny, I've got a date.

-Uh, she's just showing
me some things here.

-I can tell.

I forgot to tell you Mr.
Smith phoned this morning.

-Oh.

I'm glad you don't write those
messages down, Miss Ater.

It might fall into
the wrong hands.

What with the country teeming
with international spies.

-Here.

Hold this for me.

Let me show you, because
it'll only take a minute.

-Puss, will you cut it out?

You embarrass me.

Besides I got an important
phone call to make.

-Oh.

Well, if you don't
see them on, how

will I know you
if you like them,

or whether I have
to take them back,

or whether I'll need a
check, or what I have to--

-Hold it.

Wha-- What do you mean a check?

-Well, you see,
we spend the $100.

And you know Smelly
Annie's psychic.

And she says a
man of your income

wouldn't be seen dead
meeting me in front

of the place we were living in.

So we moved to a new apartment.

And you'll just love it, because
even the stopper in the bathtub

fits.

-I was worried about that.

-Here, let me show you.

-Puss.

Look, Puss.

You just sit still
for five minutes.

-Oh, but let me--

-I'm going to go out
and see if I can't

arranged a charge
account for you.

[SINGING AND PLAYING GUITAR]

-I hate to be irrelevant--

-I'm just trying to
keep in practice.

-What was it today, [INAUDIBLE]?

Well, hello, Smith.

This is Webb.

Webb!

Louder, I can almost here!

[SINGING LOUDER]

-Oh, Smith.

Scott's proposing that
amendment this morning.

Yes, we're taking
care of Cushing.

Cost you a hundred grand.

$100,000 to go right back
to where you started from.

-Johnny, can you sign this?

-Wait a minute, something
important has come up.

-I gotta get my hair fixed.

That cheap electric
fan ruins it.

Sign it.

-$10 for what?

-An advance on my salary.

I gotta get a new girdle.

-Make that out of
the electric fan.

What?

Sure I know it's a lot of money,
but I'm taking the gamble.

$100,000 if we win, slam the
door in my face if we lose.

You'll be selling
[INAUDIBLE] to the saints

before you can say [INAUDIBLE].

Bye.

$30,000 is your cut.

-Oh, thanks, chum.

So it's all over but
the shooting, huh?

-5 minutes are up.

-You can have an extension.

-Hey, Alma Brehmer's
on the phone.

Looks like I'll never
get out of here.

-Someday, I'm going to slip
a time bomb in her lunch box.

Hiya, babes.

-One-Punch Web?

Your exhibition payed dividends.

Vincent and I
quarreled over you,

and this morning it cost him
a gorgeous diamond bracelet

to erase that famous
Brehmer scowl.

-Tonight?

What for?

-I thought maybe
you could drop by

and add this to my
insurance policy.

Swell.

Around 8:00.

I have a heavy date at 9:00.

Bye, darling.

-So long, dear.

-Get a load of the lambchop.

-One minute you're going
around with me, the next minute

you're not going around with me.

You're going around
with somebody else.

-Oh, you got me all wrong, Puss.

-Oh, ho.

A trifler, eh?

Now if you prefer the
outdoor, the clean-cut type,

I'll buy a drink.

-Wait a minute,
I'll go with you.

I want to read the
afternoon papers.

-Come on, shortcake,
we're attracting a crowd.

-10 gets you 50.

When Cushing hear
about that amendment,

they had to scrape
him off the ceiling.

-I see where the News
Gazette threatened Scott

with both barrels, one above
the belt and the other below.

-Well, we expected that.

Fortunately, the Citizen
has the civic spirit.

Gave the amendment four stars.

-Woohoo!

-Can I have the funnies?

-Here's a picture of
Senator Biery to start with.

-Mr., there's not enough
gin in this Tom Collins.

-That's a lemonade, lady.

-Well, put some more
sugar in it, then.

-What time is it, Russ?

I've gotta grab a shave,
go back to the office,

and see about those
policies of Alma's.

-You know, this is
a marvelous watch.

Wakes me up in
the morning, cooks

my breakfast, darns my
socks, boils my eggs--

-Make up those corny
jokes too, does it?

What time is it?

-It's, ah-- what do you expect
from a watch, everything?

-Mmm.

Keep your dress on, toots.

-Oh, I know where you're going.

And don't come crawling back
to me on your hands and feet.

-Carry on, Jim.

-Bye, Mr. Webb.

You know, I used to like him.

[WHISTLING]

-Alma?

Alma?

[SCREAM]

[SCREAM]

[SCREAM]

-It won't do you
much good now, pal.

But I'll square this for you.

I'll square it if I have to
smash every-- believe me, kid,

I'll square it.

-Yeah, that's right.

A-- m-m-m-murder in the
penthouse at the Fenner Arms,

the Fenner Arms.

R-r-r- right!

Trace that, Captain.

-Hey, come back here, you.

You can't do that to
the arm of the law.

-You've been drinking.

-Resisting an officer, eh?

Say, do you live here?

-Listen, flatfoot.

You can let go of
that arm, arrest me,

or get knocked into
that jar of shrubbery.

-You're under arrest.

Tell Captain Graves
to come down a minute.

I've caught a
suspicious character.

-Oh, yes.

-What's the matter, Humboldt,
would they let you play?

-I stopped this man
according to orders, Captain.

He resisted and
threatened to throw me

right over that
jar of shrubbery.

-That's not true, Humboldt.

I said that one.

-Let him go.

-Well, now, Captain, you're not
going to let Humboldt break up

a beautiful friendship, are you?

-Mr. Webb, it occurs to me that
you may have purposely picked

a fight with
Humboldt to establish

the time of your arrival.

-Yeah.

Guess, then, I did.

-Floor?

-Penthouse, for me.

-Couldn't have been dead
over a half an hour.

-Well, I would like
to know if this is

a job of a professional
crook, or--

-The jewelry's gone.

A fancy knife like that
is not standard equipment

for a second-story man.

-This Brehmer woman knew a
lot of prominent people, ah,

socially, and I will
immediately clear up this case

before The Citizen starts
blackening everybody.

-I thought you were still
black from the last case.

-District Attorney
Joyce, this is Mr. Webb,

he was her attorney.

-How do you know?

-Pretty big case, huh, to
bring out the DA personally?

-Did you have an appointment
with Miss Brehmer tonight?

-Nothing definite about it.

Said to come around 8:00.

-Little late, aren't you?

-Yeah.

Yeah, I sure am.

Plenty late.

-What were your relations
with Miss Brehmer?

-Very close friends, but don't
overwork your imagination.

-What were you seeing her about?

-To handle her insurance.

Vincent Cushing had just given
her an armful of jewelry,

and she wanted it covered.

-Could be.

-Just a minute, Webb.

How do we know that
you're telling the truth?

You're no friend of Cushing's.

-Oh, but you are.

And something that you
kiddies out to know.

Alma told me she had
a date about 9:00.

-If we only knew who
she had that date with.

-I just told you.

Cushing gave her
a ton of diamonds.

Have you got a cigarette?

-You seem to be
very much interested

in this case, Mr. Webb.

-Yeah.

Yeah, I certainly am.

For most of you, that's
just a body in there.

Well, for me, it's Alma Brehmer.

And the scum that did
it is going to burn.

-You needn't get so
melodramatic about it.

We all feel as badly as you.

-Hello there, Joyce.

-How do you do, Mr. Cushing?

-I heard about it outside.

I think it's rotten.

Only a cheap cutthroat
would do a thing like this.

-Oh, Vincent,
that's embarrassing.

I was just telling them you
were their best suspect.

-Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to upset you.

-I'll upset him.

As far as I'm concerned,
he's our number-one suspect.

He's the only one that
knew about that jewelry

that you gave Miss Brehmer.

-I didn't give Miss
Brehmer any jewelry.

-You had a date with
her tonight, didn't you?

-Well, not exactly.

She wanted my advice
about some securities.

-Take your dirty hands off me.

-We found him lurking
around outside the building.

He said something about, um,
wringing her skinny neck.

-Good work, O'Leary.

-Yeah, I'll wring
her skinny neck.

No.

It isn't-- Alma.

Alma!

Oh, this is Alma.

Alma, darling.

-Well, Mr. Godena parked
around the corner.

Said he was waiting for Mr.
Cushing, but you told me--

-Well, the suspects
are piling up.

-Yeah.

They're coming of
the woodwork now.

-Who killed her?

You were afraid she'd
come back to me, Cushing?

-Take it easy.

-You killed her.

[GUNSHOT]

-Why didn't you
search him, O'Leary?

-Well, I thought
Humboldt did it.

-Well, I thought O'Leary did it.

-Yeah.

-Bert, bring the iodine.

-Give me that.

Allow me.

Hurts, doesn't it?

-Yeah.

I'm sorry, Webb.

It's only a scratch.

-Let go of me.

Why you-- you big bully, you--
why, if you tear my dress,

I'm going to tell
Mr. Webb on you,

and he knows a lot of gangsters,
and they're going to rub you

out, and that's slang for, and--
Johnny, Johnny, make them stop.

-What are you doing here?

-She tried to get upstairs.

She was saying
she wanted to stop

Mr. Webb before it was too late.

-Too late?

-Yeah.

-For what?

-Oh, now, wait a minute.

-You mean, you suspected him of
wanting to kill Miss Brehmer?

-No.

No, he wanted to
make love to her.

I was the one that
wanted to kill her,

just because she's got
a pair of-- Oh, Johnny!

-If you don't mind,
I'd like to go

home and have a
doctor look at this.

-We're holding everyone
for questioning.

-Might I suggest that you
concentrate on Mr. Webb?

-Why don't you lie low
and you'll blow over?

-You know, I've been thinking.

Whoever phoned us
was up her first,

and might have stepped in that
blood while it was still wet.

Now, if there's a particle
of it left on their shoes,

our chemist can find it.

-But the real murderer
may not be in this group.

-That's right.

He may not.

Captain, ask them to
take off their shoes.

-Their shoes?

-Yeah, you know.

Shoes.

-All right.

That goes for everybody.

-If they walk around very much,
the blood might wear away.

And put a tag with a
name on every pair.

-Take off your shoes.

-Look, Puss.

He's wearing socks.

-Looks like the little pig's
been playing the market.

-All right, come on.

Captain Graves will
take you to headquarters

for preliminary questioning.

-Well, in that case, ah-- you
can always send for a lawyer.

-Now see here, Webb.

You're not going to turn this
into a three-ring circus.

-Oh, my dear Joyce.

You can't fly in the face
of a constitutional right.

Humboldt.

-Sir?

-Do me a favor, will you?

Call up Sampson at Chestnut 7878
and tell him to come down here

and defend me against
the district attorney.

-Oh, that's kindergarten
stuff, Webb.

-Now, now, Cushing.

Surely I'm entitled
to a pal, too,

with you playing Ring Around
the Rosie with Junior here.

-I'll go on ahead and drop
these with the laboratory.

-Oh, Inspector?

Half soles and
new laces on mine.

-Just got the news from Fromm.

I'm awful sorry, buddy.

-Thanks, sweetheart.

-Look, I brought all the
habeas corpuses I could find,

and a Ouija board.

-Good.

If I know my Cushing
and Joyce, I'm

right in the middle
of a squeeze play.

-Yoo-hoo.

Come on and sit over here.

You can see swell.

-How'd the cupcake
get mixed up in this?

Oh, never mind.

I'll find out firsthand.

-Mr. Fromm is going
to ask some questions.

I would like to
have them answered

without the dubious
benefit Mr. Webb's

uncalled-for, unethical,
and unfunny remarks.

-Has anyone here ever
seen this knife before?

-Ooh.

-Yes?

Yes, Ms. Seymour?

-Oh, no.

No, I'm sorry.

Mr. Webb once had a
paper-cutter like that,

but it's not the same, because
his was a paper-cutter.

-You're sure it's not the same?

-Mmm, Yes, I'm sure I'm sure.

-She's sure.

-There's one question I'd
like to ask you, Mr. Cushing.

Did you give Miss Brehmer
a costly diamond bracelet

this morning?

-Ah-ah.

No signals.

-No, of course not.

That's absurd.

-Don't give us that.

You quarreled with Alma
Brehmer last night,

you gave her the jewelry
this morning, tonight you

could have killed her in
a fit of jealous rage.

Anyone that knows you can
testify to your violent temper.

-Well, yes, that's right,
because one time Mr.

Cushing got so mad
at Mr. [INAUDIBLE]--

-Quiet.

---that the veins
stood out in his neck.

-Gentlemen, I'd like
to make a suggestion.

-Mr. Webb, you may as
well keep your mouth shut,

because we're not going
to believe one word

you say against Mr. Cushing.

-Mr. District
Attorney, if you refuse

to hear the testimony
of any homicide suspect,

you're violating the federal
constitution, the state laws,

and local ordinance number 482.

-Paragraph four.

-Thank you.

Any questions?

-If I wasn't drunk, they
never would have caught me.

-Give that man
some black coffee,

and keep working on him.

We may get a confession.

-Now, Mr. Taylor.

You're the ex-husband
of the deceased.

Do you know anyone
near to her who

might have had a motive
for this killing?

-No, I don't.

-May I embellish that?

Mr. Taylor resented paying his
ex-wife the $100,000 settlement

that I obtained for her.

-That's not true.

-Mr. Taylor needs cash.

He could have threatened
her with a loan.

She refused.
He killed her.

-You cheap trickler.

-He has fresh scratches
on his cheeks.

They could have come
from a nail file.

And I wonder if any
of you smart kiddies

noticed that Alma's
nail file is missing.

-I've been drinking.

I fell down and cut myself.

-Did you fall on
a manicure, sir?

-Who's conducting this inquiry?

The police department or
this ambulance chaser?

-Sit down.

-Oh.

How about a doughnut?

-Taylor was always
jealous of Cushing.

He threatened them both
last night at the Riviera.

We were all witness to that.

-Is that true?

-No.

-No.

-I think you'd better get Mr.
Webb a cup of black coffee.

-Well, you're just a
bunch of big fibbers,

because I heard him myself.

-Wait a minute, young lady.

Three people in this
room have testified--

-Ow!

Hey, will you look
what you're doing?

-So sorry, old man.

-How well did you
know the deceased?

-Pretty well.

I know she spent a
lot of time with Webb.

-I'm sure you'll have
something to say.

-I certainly have.

I know Godena knew
Alma well enough

to hate her inside because she
turned him down for Cushing.

-I've never been so
flattered in all my life.

-You don't have to
laugh so loud, Pete.

I don't think you killed her.

Gentlemen, I happen to know
Mr. Godena pretty well.

And I don't think
he'd try to tackle

a full-grown woman
armed only with a knife.

-There.

-Look out.

-My dear--

-Ow!

Will you keep off my feet?

-I'm so sorry.

-Go on, beat it.

-There.

-Yeah?

-How about another doughnut?

-That man's faking.

Wake him up.

-No tonic.

And one silver [INAUDIBLE].

-This thing has turned
into a three-ring circus.

-Here's the report, sir.

-Thanks.

Well.

They found blood on
one of Webb's shoes.

But it's not Miss
Brehmer's blood.

The report is
definite about that.

-Blood is blood.

And east is easy.

And west is west and never
the twain shall meet.

-Quiet!

-This particular blood is
from Mr. Cushing's arm wound.

They checked with the Bandaid.

-I'll burn the shoes
in the morning.

-This investigation has turned
into a three-ring circus.

-Two tickets, please.

-Get that man out of here.

-All right, come on.

Come on.
-Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

Don't push.

Don't-- don't push.

I stand on my
constitutional rights.

-Now I'm going to let you
all go for the time being.

All right, so you can
all take your shoes.

-Ow!

-My dear fellow, I
hope you're not hurt.

-Why, you--

-None of you will
attempt to leave town.

If you do, I'll have you
picked up and booked.

-Johnny!

Johnny.

Johnny.

Do you know what I think?

-What?

-I think whoever it is
just won't admit it.

-Slow down, Puss.

-Right back where we started.

All we have left to
work on is the knife.

-Where is it?

-Gone.

[SINGING]

-Hey.

-What?

-You double check
on those figures?

-Did I ever let you down?

-I'd rather not answer that.

-Folks got to appreciate this.

I'll never get the paint
out from under my nails.

-We all have to make sacrifices
for the good of the community.

We need to help
the Senator present

the simple and honest facts.

-Say when.

-Ho, ho, wait a minute.

Couldn't kill that
many people in the year

with the bubonic plague.

-Don't get technical.

-What was that for?

-I had a little paint
left over in the brush.

[BUZZER RINGING]

-Yeah.

-There's a guy here to see you.

-Oh, a guy, huh?

-Well, let's see.

I've paid my rent.

Paid my tailor.

You're supposed to tell
me if I'm getting warm.

-Very funny.

He says he's from The Citizen.

-The good side of the press.

Better talk to him.

-Yeah.

Thought you wanted to see me.

-She's cuter.

-I never get a tumble
around here anymore.

-Have time for a
few questions, Webb?

-I can answer the first one.

I didn't kill Alma Brehmer.

-The News Gazette
thinks you did.

-Cushing set that type.

-You mean Cushing's trying
to protect someone close?

-Oh, yeah, very close.

Himself.

-Hmm.

Did you tell the police that?

-Sure, I told them.

-They had a faraway
look in their eye.

They wouldn't hold him if
he walked in and confessed.

-Senator Scott sent us.

-He's in there.

-The editor keeps banging his
head against the stone wall

of corruption, but he's
running out of heads.

-Start hinting
that it's Cushing.

That's your bombshell.

-Yeah, that's swell.

You light the fuse, but
if goes off in our face.

I'll see how the
editor feels about it.

Webb, you're a one-man
war, bit if you

get to be an old political
boss, keep me in mind, will you?

I've always had a yen to
be police commissioner

so I can leave my car in
the no-parking spaces.

-Miss Ater?

Put him down for commissioner.

-How do you spell commissioner?

Well, don't blame
me if I get stuck.

-A little missionary
work with The Citizen.

-I got two derbys
and a gray fedora.

-Fedora only counts as--

-This may be a little bit
off the subject, John,

but did you kill Alma?

-I told you I got
a note warning me.

-I remember about the
note and I remember

it didn't sound very convincing.

-Well, maybe you had
your own reasons.

[BUZZER RINGING]

-Yeah?

-There are some cops here,
and it doesn't surprise me.

Captain Braves and
Inspector Fromm.

-Morning, gents.

-Well, gentlemen, this is
an unexpected pleasure.

-Hope you don't mind if
we take a look around?

-We haven't a search warrant,
but we thought that--

-Oh, you're always welcome.

Of course, you had
to take part luck.

-All right, boys.

Have at it.

-What do you suppose
they're looking for?

-I think it's a treasure
hunt where they're supposed

to bring back a
couple of lawyers.

-No.

I know what it is.

-What?

-They're looking
for a k-n-i-f-e.

Shh.

-Like to try it?

-Mm-hmm.

-Humboldt.

-No, thanks.

-No.

You're cold.

-How am I doing?

-Well, you're getting warm.

-Have-- have you ever
seen one of these?

-Oh.

Nice.

-Would-- would you
like to try one?

It's been a long, hard search.

-A-a-a-a.

-Oh.

No, thanks.

-OK.

-Oh, we have some
sliding panels?

Secret trapdoors?

False bottoms?

And transparent windows
in my partner's office.

Would you like to see them?

-See if he can find anything
in the other office.

-See if they can find
the other office?

-Hold this.

-You better hold it.

That's it, [INAUDIBLE].

Got a cigarette?

-We're sorry to
bother you, Mr. Webb.

-That's the trouble with
these fortune-tellers.

You're can't depend on them.

-Surprise!

-Mr. Webb, they
had the cutest cap,

the thing I [INAUDIBLE],
and I just couldn't--

[SCREAM]

What's going on in here?

-Uh, just one of I fainting
spells during the excitement.

-Seeing real
policemen, everything.

-They make up more new games.

-I just lost the best
years of my life.

-Aw, jeepers.

It was a dirty trick,
but I had to do it.

Puss, I'll get you a
barrel of charge accounts.

I'll make it up to
you in 100 ways.

Honest, I will, Puss.

-I've seen everything now.

-I don't know what
you're talking about.

Aw, Puss.

-Think of it, gentlemen.

The lives of more than 3,000
men, women, and children

snuffed out in the
past 12 months.

-Gentlemen.

False figures.

Figments of a fertile and
unscrupulous imagination.

-Senator Scott has the floor.

-Figures are
sometimes unreliable.

Consequently, we will give
you more than mere statistics.

The truth in asphalt form.

-Everything but
performing fleas.

I Really, gentlemen.

-Order, please.

Senator Scott has the floor.

-We have here 12
samples of pavement

from various other states
and a sample of our own.

This is an official
testing machine.

Pressure can be exerted by
this machine equal to the wear

of millions of cars a year
passing over the pavement.

To demonstrate, Oklahoma.

6.6 pressure.

Translated, this paving
is good for 27 years.

-It's a very good show.

-I underestimated Mr. Webb.

-And now a sample
of our own state.

-Good for seven years, unable to
stand up under the wear of ten

million cars, not including
bicycles, scooters, and roller

skates.

-I think it's about time Mr.
Webb was picked up for murder.

-There are quicker ways.

-Uh-oh.

-I know.

Spring cleaning.

-No, this is getting
a little monotonous.

-Maybe we ought to
leave it like this,

and next time they'll
straighten it up, huh?

-I don't have to look.

Gone.

-Do you think maybe
we offended somebody

in the Magician's Union?

-What is it, termites?

-Cushing, I think.

Practically the same thing.

-Well, if this is your
idea of a funny joke,

you can just clean
it up yourself.

-My secretary.

-Hey, you know?

You guys have
overlooked something.

-What?

-The one person who
had the best motive

for killing Alma Brehmer.

The best and oldest motive.

Jealousy.

-You know, I'm getting
just a little bit weary

of this stupid
jealousy of yours.

-You didn't treat her
like that, no you didn't.

Or did you?

Maybe you did kill her.

You crush everything
you're tired of.

Why don't you kill me, too?

-Oh, shut up.

-You've left me
nothing to live for.

Go on, kill me.

Or I'll do it myself.

-What, again?

I told you there was
always a loaded revolver

in the desk drawer.

-I'm leaving now, Mother, and
I'll need five whole dollars.

Mother, are you ill again?

-No, no, no.

I'm all right.

-Well, you certainly
don't look all right.

-Please, child.

Leave me now.

I'm just a little tired.

Get the money from your father.

-OK.

-Mother.

-You--

-But Mother--

-Leave us alone for a moment.

Leave us alone.

-You'd better go, dear.

Have you completely
lost your reason?

-Murderer.

Murderer.

You hear me?

You're a murderer.

-Why must you always
believe the vicious lies

Webb has put in the
papers about me?

You, my wife.

-Your wife.

You've killed me.

You've killed her.

You've even killed her father.

Yes, I know all about it.

You killed her father when
she found out you killed her.

-What did you do
with that clipping?

What did you do
with that clipping?

-I'm saving it for the police.

[CRASHING NOISE]

-Rather soft there, pal.

Out of condition?

Well.

I'm sorry.

Miss Cushing, I presume?

-Move over just a little.

I can't breathe.

-Mm-hmm.

Well, I suppose now that
you're out of finishing school,

you're doing all
of your father's

second-story work, hmm?

-This is my own idea.

You see, the things
The Citizen has

been saying about
him made Mother.

Very unhappy.

-So you decided to stop all the
news right at its source, hm?

-Mm-hmm.

-Your dad did leave something
worthwhile in my study,

didn't he?

Oh, ah-- by the way.

How old are you?

-22.

Why?

-Mmm, nothing.

-Oh, would you have a cigarette?

-Don't mind if I do.

-Mr. Webb, you sure got
a unusual technique.

-Don't bother.

I'll get a cab.

Goodnight, Johnny.

-Goodnight, sweetie.

-Wait a minute.

I just came to see
you to tell you

that I'm not going
to see you anymore.

And you can just
stop chasing me,

because I wouldn't
look at you if you

came to me on your
hands and feet.

I'm

-Good morning, miss.

Mr. Webb ain't
here this morning.

He went to the office.

-Yes, I know.

I just wanted to return this.

-Are you feeling better
this morning, miss?

-I've never felt
better in my life.

-Some folks think
he's too violent,

but it sure is
successful technique.

-Good morning, Miss Ater.

Why don't you use
your own phone?

-Just routine.

-I'm sure you can explain
all this very readily.

-You get the idea, Mr. Webb?

-Sure.

The whole picture
comes to me at once.

Including the frame.

-Let me see, was it
Aesop or Mr. Godena

that said, ah, keep
your nose clean?

-Well, we got you, Webb.

Your secretary found
out that you killed

Alma Brehmer, so you-- you
silenced her permanently.

No use looking there.

You won't find his fingerprints.

He's too smart for that.

-Trouble with you, is, George,
you think you're Dick Tracy.

-And right before my very eyes,
why, he dragged that poor girl

through the lobby by
the hair of her head

and he'd even beat her
into a great big pulp.

-Yeah, that's Johnny.

He'd rather beat a
woman into a big pulp

than smoke a good cigar any day.

Well, how are you, Johnny?

-Hi, Russ.

-You know my psychopathic
friends here, don't you?

-Yeah.

-Hello, Puss.

-You keep your hellos
to yourself, thank you.

-Well, Miss Seymour, what
were those interesting things

you were saying about Mr.
Webb the few moments ago?

-It was nothing at all.

I was just saying that he had
a battle with his secretary

last night.

-And?

-Be careful of
what you're saying.

-Well, now, don't
try to deny it,

because it was your secretary.

-Undoubtedly, Mr. Webb
has another alibi.

-Now you're going to
be surprised, Papa.

-Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me.

I have some business to
attend to at the News Gazette.

-He's writing the
cooking column.

-Pardon me.

-Come on, give him a break.

Hold the cars for him.

-Thanks.

-Oh, hi, Mr. Webb.

Hi, [INAUDIBLE].

How's everything?

-OK.

Wife had a little touch of the
flu, but she's over it now.

-Oh!

-Ed.

Miss Seymour has some very
important information.

-Oh!

-OK.

I'll take care of her.

-Yeah.

All right.

Get him out of here.

-Take a good look, Webb.

Maybe you'll learn.

-Listen, Joyce.

I like a good ulterior motive
as well as the next man.

But you're going
a little too far.

-Unfortunately, Mr.
Webb, I must do my duty.

Let's go.

-Mr. Webb.

I am P. Hemingway
Collins, secretary

of the Citizens' Better
Government League.

-Delighted, Mr. Collins.

-Our league is convinced
that you are the man

to fight corruption in our fair
city, the graft and crime that

is allowed to flourish by
Vincent Cushing, Senator

Biery, and District
Attorney Joyce.

-Well, I'm sorry you haven't
met the district attorney.

Mr. Collins, Mr. Joyce.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

-I got it.

Lucky Judge White owed me $25
from that last poker game.

-Oh, habeas corpus, eh?

All right, Webb.

One of these days, you're
going to run out of judges.

-Sure, I know.

It's Halloween, you're a spook,
and you've got to scare me.

-Let's go.

-Mr. Webb, you are quite sure
that is the district attorney?

-Well, that's what
they laughingly

call him around
the News Gazette.

-You better mobilize
expenses, Daddy.

It's another $5 touch.

-Certainly, my dear.

[INAUDIBLE]

-You probably don't remember me.

I was Madder of The Citizen
before your bombshell

went off in my face.

Miss Vlissingen, Mr.
Webb, Mr. Sampson.

-And, ah, [INAUDIBLE].

-How do you do?

-She's your new secretary.

-Yes.

The agency sent me.

-And, ah, can you type?

I've always wanted a
secretary that could type.

-You know how to make
a [INAUDIBLE] cake?

That'll come in handy.

Can you spell commissioner?

-Um, c-o-m--

-Splendid splendid.

Don't overdo it.

-Darling, you start today.

Give me your coat.
Oh, you haven't got a coat.

Well, I'll buy you one.

Come on, I'll show you
around the factory here.

-I know how to
spell commissioner.

-Why that light, fluffy mood?

What's happened
to the old Madder

that [INAUDIBLE] before us?

-He was fined for hanging out
with a couple of murderers

and getting the
paper out on a limb.

Get a load of that.

-Mm-hmm.

Well, that reads the
same as the News Gazette.

Uh-oh.

[WHISTLING]

-Get that, Russ.

The knife has vanished
from the police laboratory.

-I'm going to start sleeping
with my windows closed.

I wonder if they
make steel pajamas.

-Madder?

Will positive proof that
Cushing is the rotten apple

in the political barrel
get you your miserable

position back for you?

-The answer is obviously.

Yes.

-Punch into the
office in the morning.

Your time card'll
be in the rack.

-Maybe I've been
skeptic from birth.

-Nothing new against the
forces of evil, huh, pappy?

-Nope.

We'll get something.

-Ha, ha, ha.

-All right, but they
laughed at Marconi too.

-I don't know, I didn't
think is stuff was funny.

-Russ?

The murder candidates
have narrowed down

to Cushing and
Godena for my girl.

How would the police
know that Ater

was murdered if they
hadn't been tipped off?

Now, that looks to me like
the good old frameroo.

Mike.

Think you still know
how to open a safe?

-I don't have to know how.

I get blow on them.

-I'm convinced.

-You, ah, you wouldn't be
thinking of Cushing's safe?

-Oh, look.

What do you want me
to do with this thing?

-Give it to me.

Snicker that.

I'm going to liquidate
this in the south river.

-Ah, our Mr. Webb.

I know you'd like to
meet our committee.

Miss Dottering, Mrs. Rosen
Buchanan, and Mrs. [INAUDIBLE].

Staunch crusaders
for clean government.

-Yes, ah, you ladies will
have to excuse us now.

We're going to make
arrangements to rob a safe.

-Spy!

-Oh, Puss.

-Do you like it?

Saw it in a window.

Hello, Russ.

And I got to thinking that maybe
I ought to forgive you and let

the [INAUDIBLE]
bury the hatchet.

-Mike!

Mike, you got us.

-Somebody must have
cheated Cushing.

I could have kicked that safe
open with my stocking feet.

-Here, I'll help.

And besides, I was
afraid the murderer

might come after you next.

And I don't want to be almost
a widow, because my mother was

almost a widow once when
my father almost died.

It was Friday, and
he got a fishbone

caught right in his throat.

-Nothing here yet, Johnny.

-Mr. Joyce sure
crosses his ts funny.

You know, I heard if you
cross your ts a certain way,

you're going to go
insane before you're 21.

-Eureka.

-Puss, you're a hero.

-Jeepers!

Gee, I like that, but my
goodness, what was it for?

-For finding this.

-Well, my gosh, I'll
find you lots more.

-What a headline this is
going to make for the Citizen.

Joyce Sells Police Department
to Vincent Cushing.

-That'll hang Cushing to
the well-known hickory limb.

-This is cute.

Must be a grocery list.

I'll bet you Mr. Cushing does
all of his wife's shopping.

-My gosh.

Something special again?

-Oh, it certainly is.

-Just what is your ambition?

To clean up the state, get rid
of Cushing, find the murderer,

avoid getting yourself
hung, or standing

there playing post office?

-This, my friend, is a
slot-machine pamphlet

for last month, and a one-way
ticket to the big house for Mr.

Cushing, Mr. Godena, and
the district attorney.

-And Senator Biery.

You know, it's going to be
so easy to put that amendment

through now, it's almost a
sin to take that $100,000 fee.

-Tell you something else, chum.

I made a promise.

Now that Cushing's
power is gone,

the [INAUDIBLE] won't be afraid
to go after the murderer.

-That proves that
the knifing was

done by one of Cushing's mob.

-And very significant that
Godena's cut was less than half

after Alma's death.

-That proves Cushing
had something on him.

It's liable to be murder.

Look, John, if I'm
not too indelicate,

where is this going to
get you if it don't work?

-Madder's kids have
to eat, don't they?

[SINGING]

-I smell victory.

-Congratulations on the
accuracy of your smeller.

-Wait.

Don't say anything
until you know who I am.

-Who I am?

-I'm Madder, the old
hard-boiled reporter

whose babies have
taken up eating again.

-You remember him?

-Aladdin, the guy with
the magic lantern.

-Morning, boys.

-Hi, inspector.

-Inspector, huh?

You don't keep up
with things, Webb.

Congratulations are in order.

-All right, congratulations.

You got him.

You're perhaps the DA, the
commissioner, or the mayor,

or all three of them.

-As commissioner, my
first official duty

is an unpleasant one inasmuch
as your anti-Joyce campaign

was responsible
for my promotion.

-Fromm, are you trying to
tell me in a very subtle way

that I'm under arrest?

-Webb, I'm really very grateful.

-Oh, now, wait a minute, girls.

I'll go get my violin.

-But the News Gazette
has been screaming

that you're the murderer.

And you are the
only logical one who

could have killed
your secretary.

So I've got to take you in.

-Well, now, wait
a minute, Fromm.

I can't go to jail now.

I gottta have a few hours
to figure this all out.

-Surprise!

Ooh!

I'm so glad you're
here, Inspector,

because Smelly Annie-- I mean,
a certain friend of mine,

had a dream where the
commissioner is the murderer

and you were the corn fritter--

-Hush!

Those dreams have
got you slap-happy.

-All right, then.

Look, I want to show
you the dress I got.

It's wonderful, and I'm going
to exchange it in the morning.

-Come on, corn fritter.

Let's erase ourselves
from the domestic scene.

-OK.

I'll expect you at
headquarters in the morning.

You can sleep in
your own bed tonight.

It's softer.

And besides, you'll
probably want

to spend the evening
with that girl of yours.

But don't leave town.

You're on your own.

-Thanks, Fromm.

-Did you tell him
I was your girl?

-Yes, people say a lot of
foolish things in an emergency.

You know what?

I'm in a spot.

-You ain't no place else, pappy.

Mr. Webb's residents.

Yeah, wait a minute.

-Yes?

-John, I'm worried about you.

I just met Graham, the new DA.

Now, he's honest,
but he's convinced

that you did the murders.

-Well, something might turn up.

Yeah.

Yes, I'm going down
in the morning.

Oh, what about the amendment?

-You know, we vote
on it tomorrow.

You know, a lot of
the boys around here

still read the News Gazette.

-OK.

I haven't got enough trouble.

-Call me in for the
peace conference.

-Now, Puss, please.

-Don't you "Puss please" me.

I wouldn't take you
back if you came

to me on your hands and feet.

And this time, I mean it.

-You know, Johnny, there
are a couple of other things

could have happened
to you today.

You could have stubbed
your toe or you

could have got a splinter
under your fingernail.

-Ah, the way I feel, [INAUDIBLE]
wouldn't make him [INAUDIBLE].

Cushing's handwriting!

How do you like that?

Look.

Read it.

Must have pulled it out
of Sarilla's pocket.

-Alma's father
was murdered, too.

-Look, Alma had this clipping,
Cushing discovered it.

Now, before Alma died, Godena's
cut on the slot machines

was just as much as Cushing's.

But after the murder, Cushing
paid him less than half as much

and this is the reason why.

And I'll tell you
something else.

That throwing knife
definitely came from Texas.

How long would it
take you to pack

your pink toothbrush
and charter a plane?

-For Morganville, Texas?

-For Morganville, Texas.

-All right, wait a
minute, wait a minute.

What's the first prize
if we get to Morganville

and it's a [INAUDIBLE]
brainstorm?

We stand a chance to lose
a good night's sleep.

-So if it's a brainstorm, I make
the Bastille in the morning.

-OK, chum.

I'll get the plane.

-Where's the cemetery?

-About two miles down the road.

-We'll have this
back by 1 o'clock.

Thanks.

-Say, Johnny, just what
is this cemetery routine?

And look, isn't
this about the time

that Mr. Holmes usually
tells Watson what's going on?

-OK.

Whoever killed Alma's
father came from this town,

subsequently left here,
and committed the other two

murders.

-Quite so, quite so.

Hey, I do a pretty
good Watson, don't I?

-If the murderer did
come from this town,

it's pretty much of a sense
he's got relatives buried here.

So, we look for the family
name on the tombstone.

Cushing, Godena, or Taylor.

-Yeah, but wouldn't the
murderer have changed his name

after knocking off
Alma's old man?

-You know, Russ, that's
the strange thing.

Criminals seldom change
their names completely.

They retain their
mother's maiden name

or their father's given name.

I don't know whether it's a
matter of sentiment or pride,

but they always retain
some part of the old name.

-Yeah.

-Uh-oh.

This it is, I guess.

-Scared?

-Yeah, a little
around the edges.

-Here the lord comes.

Repent, repent, you sinners.

Come and meet your lord.

The day the lord is come.

Repent.

Repent you sinners.

Come and meet your lord.

The day of the lord is come.

Repent.

Repent, you sinners.

-Let's get out of here, chum.

It's creepy.

-We've come this far.

Let's cover all of them.

-All right, chum.

You take that side
and I'll take this.

-Russ!

Russ!

-Oh-- Hurt much?

Did you get to see
what he looked like?

Come on.

I gotta get you
into town, Johnny.

-No.

Give me just a
minute, will you, pal?

You know something, Watson?

-What is it, chum?

-I'm throwing in the towel.

This guy's too tough for me.

[SINGING]

-Hiya, Beethoven.

-How's the gladiator?

-Well, a little creaky
around the hinges.

-Say, didn't you
promise Fromm you'd

be at headquarters this morning?

-Mm-hmm.

But I got some ideas I
want to talk to you about.

-About the murder?

Don't tell me
you're going to take

back the towel
you just threw in.

-No, I found some
more pieces that fit.

-I'm all ears.

-Russ, I was wondering
how the murderer knew

we were going to the
cemetery last night.

-Well, there's-- there's
Smelly Annie, she's psychic.

-No.

No, none of the suspects
knew our destination,

and Anne didn't know.

-You know, Johnny, she
wouldn't be a bad kid

to have across the breakfast
table from you every morning.

-Oh, no.

No, you've forgotten
the Webb pledge.

I'm going to remain free
from foreign entanglements.

Why did you throw that
thing at me last night?

It hurt.

You may have had good reasons
for the other two, but--

-I'm sorry, Johnny.

I just tried to scare
you off, that's all.

-It's funny.

Now that I look back, all the
things that pointed to you.

Trying to frame me with
the knife in the drawer--

-But it wasn't a frame, Johnny.

It just backfired that way.

I wanted you to
think it was Cushing

so you'd get him
before I had to.

-Why?

What did you have
against Cushing?

-After Alma, Johnny, look.

He got all of her
stuff from the bank.

The newspaper clippings, too.

-And you stabbed
a girl in the back

just because she had
a newspaper clipping?

-She was trying to blackmail me.

Now, wait a minute, Johnny.

I know how you felt about
Alma, but believe me,

she's gone an awful
long way down the road

since you knew her.

-Go on.

-You know, amidst the 15 years
of me doing what's right,

she finally recognized me
as the guy that knocked off

her old man in the saloon fight.

Ellis was an awful scum.

He pulled a knife on me.

Well, it so happened I
was faster than he was,

but the jury couldn't
see it that way.

I did a Houdini.

-And Ater?

That was hardly the
way to get rid of her.

-I couldn't give her two
week's notice, could I?

She saw me putting the
knife in your desk.

Don't look at me like
that, will you, Johnny?

Thou shalt not kill, huh?

My government spent a lot of
dough teaching me how to kill.

For three years, I murdered guys
I didn't have anything against.

Finally, when I had a reason,
it just came kind of easy,

I guess.

-I keep thinking how
you gave it to Alma.

-I couldn't let her turn me in.

It's that waiting, Johnny, those
long, drawn-out court trials

waiting for the jury to come in.

Then the death cellar,
waiting and more waiting.

Johnny, I'm not afraid
to die, but it's

got to be quicker
than the legal way.

-Well, that's that, I guess.

-Johnny, look.

Would you like to let
me get to another state?

Just for old times' sake, huh?

-For old times' sake?

You bed I'd like to.

You'll never know how much, pal.

But I don't think you understood
when I said I was fond of Alma.

I'm sorry.

-Please, hurry!

They're killing each other!

[SIREN WAILING]

-Oh, I'm sorry, pal.

-It's better this way, Jack.

Nice and quick.

Thanks, chum.

-Great stuff, Webb.

Your girl told us about him.

-Gee, Mr. Webb.

-Nice work, Webb.

-Is he dead?

-You got the murderer!

-The amendment went through.

Joyce, Cushing and Godena,
they measured for size.

Why would that guy--

-Get out.

Get out, all of you.

Thanks, Puss.

-Do you feel better now?

-Sure, a lot better, Puss.

-Well, then I guess
I'll be getting along.

-Yeah.

Huh?

-But before I go, I want to
thank you for everything.

Why, if it hadn't
been for you, I

might never have given this
fella a second thought.

-What fella?

-Well, the college
fella, remember?

What you said.

Oh, it isn't that
he isn't handsome.

6'2'' and the biggest blue eyes,
and the cute little dimples,

and we thought that--

-Now you listen to me, Puss.

How do I know who this moron is?

Might even be a
kidnapper or something.

I know a lot of kidnappers
that got blue eyes.

-Well, no, he's a college boy.

-Well, I'm not going
to stand for it.

I'm not going to let
you throw yourself

at the first good-looking
half-bake that comes along.

Might even have
insanity in his family.

-Mr. Webb, what--
-And stop calling me Mr. Webb.

I don't care if he's 7'2'',
a sophomore can't open

a million charge
accounts for you.

Besides, you don't
need a college boy.

You need somebody
you can depend on.

You need a lawyer or something.

[GASP]

-Do they always
ask that question

about do you promise to obey?

-How do I know?

I don't get married every day.

-Mr. Webb, I'm a victim
of your technique.

[THEME MUSIC]