While the City Sleeps (1956) - full transcript

Death of media magnat Amos Kyne is causing power struggle between his executives. In the meantime New York women become prey of a serial killer. Reporter Edward Mobley is in that circumstances faced with almost impossible missions: to catch the killer, to prevent the media empire from falling into the wrong hands and to save his romantic relationship from break-up.

- Yes?
- Drugstore

Miss Judith! Package!

It's a charge. Take it, Pop.

After you go out for dinner, I come
back and permanent fix the plumbing.

Fine.

I use my pass key. You
don't worry about nothing.

Thanks for everything. Good night, Pop.

Good night.

Drugstore again. I... I think
I left the wrong package.

A minute later, I'd have been in the tub.

- No, my name's on it.
- Sorry.



Mr. Mobley, You're on the
air in fifteen minutes.

Just a minute, Gus.

Oh, boy! Have the copy
put on the idiot sheet.

Please, Mr. Mobley.

"Ever on the alert to serve its..."

Mr. Loving's office.

Tell that boss of yours to stop purring
over your shoulder while he dictates.

Shut your obscene face!

Want a drink later...

- At your place?
- Oh, no, we've tried my place.

What would you suggest
- Madison Square Garden?

I'm sorry, Mr. Loving. That Mobley...
I've told him and told him.

Well, frankly, Nancy, I don't blame him.

I sometimes wish these walls
were not made out of glass.



"And the Kyne news service,
ever on the alert..."

"Ever on the alert..."

- Hello.
- Going home, Mildred?

Oh, darling, I don't have to.

There are two schools of
thought about that mink.

One is that a syndicate bought it,

and the other is that Mark Loving
shelled out for the whole thing.

Well, why don't you get me alone
some night and I'll tell you all?

- That's a good offer.
- You ought to find out just how good. Bye.

- Hey! Bright eyes!
- Yes, sir?

- See what's in the city news ticker, huh?
- Right.

Get Mark Loving in here and Jon
Day Griffith and Harry Kritzer!

- And Ed Mobley, too!
- Mr. Kyne.

Mr. Kyne! You promised
the doctor no more work...

A murder story's just come in, Miss
Dodd! It's a lulu, and they're blowing it!

Mr. Griffith,
Mr. Kyne would like to see you.

Gentlemen.

Mr. Griffith.

I don't like to have my wire service
beat by every other one in the country.

Why, it's just another murder.

I suggest that the
life of a human being...

- is not beneath your consideration.
- All right. I'll get onto it myself.

Jon? May I remind you that your first
edition is on the street at 7 pm?

All I've got left is the final.
I'll put this on page two.

How many women in the
United States use lipstick?

- How many women are there?
- I want every one of them scared silly...

every time she puts any on! Call
this baby "The Lipstick Killer".

- Smack across the front page!
- Whatever you say, Amos.

- How about pictures?
- I'll send the men out right away.

And I'll send you a special
letter of commendation.

Now, get out of here, both
of you, and get to work.

Do you want me to feature
this thing on my telecast?

- Ed, I'm real jumpy.
- So am I. I'm on the air in four minutes.

Who's going to run the whole
show when my carburetor conks out?

You'll do that yourself for many a year.

Kyne Enterprises... something that's taken
a lifetime of brains and guts to build...

and in all that lifetime, I find
I've only made two big mistakes.

Well, I'm surprised that
you admit to that many.

One... my son Walter.
I killed him with kindness:

Polo ponies, yachts, women...
especially women he married.

- Second...
- I think you're looking in my direction.

Why didn't you want to fill my
shoes, Ed? Where was your ambition?

I'm content the way I am: Just to
be able to write a book now and then,

keep my nose clean...
I have no appetite for power.

I'm not talking about
power. It's a bigger thing...

the responsibility of the
free press to the people.

In this country, it's the
people who make the decisions.

If they're to make their decisions right,
they have to have all the facts that we...

I didn't mean to cut you off, but...

Amos!

- It's 11 o'clock and Kyne Enterprises...
- Amos! Amos!

including the Kyne newspapers, Kyne
Press Service, Kyne Photo Service...

and Kyne Weekly, present the
distinguished author, columnist,

and Pulitzer Prize winner...

Film. No script.

Ladies and gentlemen,
most newsmen value a beat.

Here's one I wish I didn't have.

A few moments ago, Amos Kyne passed away...

Hello?

- Yes?
- The gentlemen are here, Mr. Kyne.

- Where did they locate him?
- At the Stork Club. Where else?

Yes, sir.

You three. Ed's to wait.

Gentlemen, except for Harry,
I'm afraid I don't know you.

- It is terrible about your father.
- Yes.

- You are... Mark Loving?
- That's right.

And just what do you do around here?

I run Kyne Newswire Service
- KNS.

I presume you've checked our handling
of your father's death. Any suggestions?

The newswire. Yes, we
must talk about that soon.

You must be... Jon Day Griffith.

I sweep up the floor, and
I'm editor of The Sentinel.

I'm also advisory editor
of the other nine papers.

Are you responsible for the
fact that a cheap murder was

featured on the same front
page as the death of my father?

The old man wanted the story played up big.

'Course, he didn't know
then he was going to be news.

But in as much as it was his last request.

Walter, I have arranged a copyrighted
feature on the old man's life.

Shall I give it to Mark
to send over the wire?

We'll see. Harry, it's been a long time.

- How's Dorothy?
- We must have dinner soon.

I just wanted to tell
you three that at the

moment I contemplate no
changes in personnel.

So for the time being, none of
you has anything to worry about.

On your way,
will you tell Mobley to come in?

- Well?
- You're on.

- So, you're Edward Mobley?
- Deepest sympathy Mr. Kyne.

- Sit down.
- Thank you.

You're the fellow who wrote the book.

Every time the old man got
sore at me, which was often,

he used to talk about you.
Mobley this and Mobley that.

- I got pretty sick of it.
- Yes I can imagine you did.

Those three who were just in here made
their opinion of me pretty plain...

Amos Kyne's idiot son.
I suppose you feel the same.

Frankly, I don't feel qualified
to feel any way about you Mr. Kyne.

Other publishers took their sons in and
taught them the business, but not him.

Till I get the hang of things around
here, I'm going to need some help -

not that I don't intend to run things
my own way, from behind the scenes.

I've got an idea. It's a great
idea, if I do say so myself.

I'm going to create a new job...
Executive Director...

someone to do the actual
work. What do you think of it?

It sounds like a step your
father would have approved.

My father is dead. This is my plant now.

I'm going to get myself a gimmick...
something that will set the three of them

scrambling for the new job.
What do you think of that?

I'd rather not say.

When I have them dangling on a string...
when they realize that I hold their

entire lives in my hands...
they won't sneer. Now, tell me...

could even he have thought
up an idea like that?

- No, never! Anything further?
- Not for now.

Then good morning.

"Dear Walter Kyne, before your
father died, I was working on a...

"tie-up with Midwest Television,
which could be immensely profitable.

"During these trying days of mourning,
I have not wanted to disturb you,

but let's have a conference
as soon as possible."

All right, Nancy, get that
out in the morning. That's all.

Yes, sir.

What's Griffith doing in there
for half an hour with Walter Kyne?

- Good night, Miss Donner, Mr. Loving.
- Good night.

Mil... until I clinch this new job, I'm
going to be like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Oh, love, the boys have
gotten out of betting line.

- You're their favorite and mine 6 to 5.
- It's not that simple.

I'm plumping with everything
that I can think of:

This Midwest deal, influence...
I've written dozens of letters.

I'll have the pressure pouring in, but
Kyne keeps harping on this murder thing,

as if solving it could be a factor...

- Now, do you suppose that...
- Why not?

It does credit to a better
brain than Walter Kyne's.

Yes. He'd get a scoop
and an Executive Director,

without the trouble of
making up his little mind.

- There's the guy now!
- Darling, I thought you liked Jon.

Well, there's no room
for love around here now.

What's he doing with Gerald Meade?

Well, darling, solving
the murder's the big thing.

He'd naturally want the
crime-beat man on his team.

So why don't you try and get him on yours?

Griffith's probably
sewing him up right now.

- Gerald would sell his mother and deliver.
- Well then how can I be sure of him?

Do I speak with him?

You go to work on Meade, and if it will
ease your mind, love, in a little while

I'll drop down to the
Dell and feel out Griffith.

Hello?

Better have another, Carlo.
I've been upstairs with Walter Kyne.

A fine man.

He's a weak-spined,
blue-eyed fish, if you ask me!

- I don't know him too well.
- Well, I... make it two.

No, make it three.

- Hello, Jon.
- Hi.

Let Nancy sit between us. You and
I can Indian-wrestle under the bar.

Rye and soda for me, and
I'll have it with music.

Yes, ma'am.

Old man upstairs is roaring like a
lion. "Get me the killer" he yells.

"Use all your best men:
Reporters, editors, feature men,

"photographers, wire service
men, but get me the killer!"

And the man who gets
the killer lands the job.

Who do you bet on, Ed... on Loving?
Loving's smart, Loving's fast,

Loving knows a lot of the right
people, but Loving doesn't get the job.

- No?
- No? I'm going to get it.

Because I spent my youth and $30,000
on whiskey and devotion to the job,

because I have a long-suffering
wife and two swell kids,

and because you and I together are
going to crack this murder thing.

- Mr. Loving wants Ed on his team.
- Yeah? Well, he's not going to have him,

because Ed's going to help me!
And let me get one thing clear...

I don't promise you a thing
for yourself. Not a thing!

Well, let me make myself clear, Jon.

I don't care who gets the job.
For one thing,

I've been off a crime
beat for five years

and for another, I'm not going to get
my throat torn open in any dogfight.

Now, Ed, I've been real nice to you.
Nancy, tell Ed I've been real nice to him.

I knew it all along... just knew I was
going to find a friendly face down here.

Well, my face is friendly.

Hello, you lovely people. I always
see you two together, don't I?

You could do a column about it.

- Oh, I'd love to, darling.
- I'm all for romance.

Have a rum on the rocks or something?

- Well now, thank you, Jon.
- That's right friendly of you.

And I do think we should all be very
friendly during these trying times.

How is Mark?

Oh, he's driving
home you-know-who.

Who is you-know-who?

Jon, Walter...
Walter Kyne.

I understand honest Harry
Kritzer's having dinner there.

One afternoon at the sands
in Vegas, I was taking a swim.

Then I looked up and saw
Dorothy sitting by the pool.

Saw her legs first
- those beautiful, long legs.

So I make kind of a
rough and ready approach.

I'll never forget what she answered
- two words.

- You know what she answered, Harry?
- No, I don't.

I said "window shopping?"

So, three nights later,
I settled for marriage!

Excuse me, sir, Mr. Griffith
is waiting on the telephone.

Oh, I'll take it outside. Excuse me.

Sit next to me, Harry.

I don't like the walls in this room.
Look like they've got sliding panels.

Coward.

He's probably got microphones
behind those pictures, too.

Well, you don't need to kiss me so loud.

When's the next time you
can visit your mother?

Tomorrow night... I hope.

I don't like keeping up
this "mother" business.

Every time I mention "mother" to
Walter, I can't keep a straight face.

How do you think I stand
in the race, darling?

- Oh, far behind, darling, far behind.
- Well, darling, I don't think so.

Let Griffith and Loving
beat their brains out.

What chance have I got - send out
a cameraman? Am I a crime catcher?

Uh-uh. I'll play it my own way...

as Walter's best friend.

- With... Walter's best wife?
- I don't want to involve you.

My hero.

You'll never guess who's
moved in here... Harry Kritzer.

Honest Harry?

Very mysterious.
No name on his mailbox.

Hideaway?

Do you suppose old Harry's got a
blonde stashed away on the side?

If he ever sees me, he'll die.
He's right across the hall from me.

Oh? You know, my darling,
as I was telling you -

Between the fourth and
the fifth highball...

A most intelligent thing to do is
to find out before you get married...

the more the better.

I know quite a lot about you now:
Went to school not far from here,

played stoop ball against the
sidewalls of engine company number 18...

- I didn't mean that kind of knowledge.
- I know you didn't.

I'm just trying to head off a disaster.
You know, you've seen these couples -

there's a big guy, six foot seven, and
a itty bitty girl, four feet eleven.

How do they get along? She doesn't
even know if he likes music,

and she doesn't know if he likes books.

Maybe they get married to find out.

Well, I know about all I'm likely
to find out tonight. Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night. Take care of yourself.

You know... you have very nice legs.

- Aren't you sweet?
- Nice nylon stockings, too.

What holds your stockings up?

There's a lot your mother
should have told you.

I didn't ask my mother. I asked you.

It's... simply a matter
of scientific research.

Hadn't we said good night before
you got interested in my nylons?

I can't remember when I wasn't interested.

Don't you ever wait for
anything to be offered?

OK, I'm open to an offer.

OK... if it'll get rid of you.

- I should have a permit.
- To kiss me?

- Hmm! An explorer's permit.
- Do explorers have to have permits?

They should have, especially when
they're headed for uncharted territory.

Oh, forgive me, angel.
I know not what I say.

Good night, drunk.

- Oh, may I use your telephone?
- How did you get in here?

Temper, temper.

Kyne Enterprises. Oh, yeah, Mr. Mobley.

Oh, get Gerald Meade for me.

Get him out of bed...
anybody's bed.

Mr. Mobley, you're real george.

Gerald... that Felton
girl who was murdered.

Did she have a button lock on her door?

Yeah. Why are you so interested?

Oh, I'm an employee of the society
for the protection of virtuous maidens.

You ought to get a chain lock on that door.

Nancy's mad.

- Too mad to offer a drink?
- If you want one, fix it yourself.

You're darn right Nancy's mad!

Well, that's a fine way
for my future bride to be.

Oh, you don't want a bride. What you
want is an illiterate common law woman.

- Fix you a drink?
- No, I don't want to get drunk with you.

Something else you'd prefer?

That Mildred Donner is
more your type. Try her.

Don't you sit there and tell
me who's my type. Du Verstehst?

You're my type.

Hey, let me tell you
just a little bit more.

Ed loves Nancy very dearly... very much...

Ed wants to marry Nancy.

- You only say that when you've had a few.
- Want me to put it in writing?

How convenient. The great
reporter has no pencil.

- And a darn good reporter, too.
- And a darn good man...

a man with great kindness... maybe
too much, because it dampens ambition.

Ambition?

If you mean by that, I
should join the race, uh-uh.

You watch, Nancy. They'll all break down.
All three of them.

Maybe one won't.

Which one?

The reporter... editor of The Sentinel.
But, still at heart, a reporter...

The one who offered
me nothing for myself.

A good offer...
the offer of a friend.

Then don't you think you ought to help him?

Nobody ever helped me.

- Now, you know that isn't true!
- Amos Kyne did and Griffith would...

and I would.
I'd do anything you asked me.

You better stick to your
friend. He's your type.

You're my type.

Shall we phone my mother and father?

And ask them if you should marry
a reporter without a pencil?

To tell them I'm going to.

Oh, what do you know?

Is that your boss calling? Does he usually
call at three o'clock in the morning?

Every night.

Hello? Yes. Just a moment.

It's for you.

Yes?

Listen, Ed, you're a real good pal
of Lieutenant Kaufman's, aren't you?

Burt? We went to the same
school together, fought together,

dated Janice behind the saxophones
in her father's hockshop. Why?

They've got somebody, Ed.
"Who"? How would I know?

Donald Duck!

The cops won't say, but Kaufman
will meet you at headquarters.

Congratulate me, Jon. I'm engaged.

What do I care, you're engaged.

Now do me a favor,
please and get over there!

What? I already sent Meade,

and where do you think I located
him? In Loving's apartment.

Ed, stick with me!

But it's morning, so it's Tuesday
- my day off!

Are you my friend or not?

All right. I'll handle it just
this one time, but that's all.

All right I said all right.

Ask me, all things
considered, it's just as well.

Hey, what are they doing in there?

Maybe some photographs, maybe
they're questioning already.

Lt. Kaufman is expecting me.
Ed Mobley.

- Hi, Gerald.
- Hiya.

- Hello, Burt.
- Where were you?

- Getting engaged.
- No fooling.

No fooling. Poor Nancy.

Who have they got, Burt?

The janitor of the girl's building, but
you can't use it before general release.

He's in questioning.

Any chance of having a listen?

- Under the same conditions, agreed?
- Sure.

She was killed with your wrench.
Why do you lie to us Pilsky?

I don't lie.

Yes, you do. You told us that you went

to Judith Felton's apartment
at 9 o'clock and found her dead.

But the people at the drugstore tell us

that a package was delivered
to Judith Felton's at 8 o'clock,

that you opened the door and
took the package. Is that right?

Yes... I lied. I... I was frightened.

Then you do admit that you were in
the Felton apartment at 8 o'clock?

Y... Y... yes. But I don't kill!

I leave her when she take bath.

When I come back, I find her dead.

If you went away and came back, George,

how did you get in to her apartment?

I use pass key.

- The door was locked then, huh?
- Yes.

Did anyone else in the
building have a pass key?

No.

Are you trying to tell us that
somebody walked through a locked door

and killed Miss Felton?

I tell truth. I don't
kill her. I find her dead.

All right, Pilsky. We're gonna
start all over from the beginning...

- Hmm! Sun's coming up.
- Not for that old boy.

He didn't do it. You know he didn't.

Four days and no results. Somebody had
to be hauled in for the howling public

for the crime commission.

But you'll let him go
before the day's over.

What makes you so sure?

The evidence against him
is just too pat to be true.

- Use your phone?
- Not for publication.

Hello? Ed? Yeah.

The janitor. If that old boy did
it, I'll sit on the hot seat for him.

Keep Meade on it. I'm gonna
go home and get some sleep.

- Your pin-ups?
- Yeah.

All very murdered. I was just
looking for possible points

of comparison with this Felton case.

- Look for a young guy, Burt.
- Now you're guessing.

Pre-meditated murder by a
psycho, and not his first.

He didn't leave any fingerprints.

So he wore gloves. Anyone who
leaves fingerprints nowadays,

even on his first
homicide, can't even read!

You know how much stuff
is written and published

for the instruction of
potential lawbreakers?

Take the so-called comic books.

Sold to kids of all
ages, in drugstores and -

Why do you say this killer is young?

The lipstick bit.

There's nothing new about
that. Several years ago -

I know, I know.

What was it? "Catch me,
I can't control myself"?

This one only changed
the lyrics, "Ask mother."

He's a mama's boy unless I'm mistaken.

Well the message may have been a blind.

I think it's an impertinence.

He's laughing at the police
by leaving clues but no fingerprints.

Keep on talking.

In the old days, before you
were above writing about crime,

you and I used to be pretty good together.

What do you think of the
dresser drawers found open?

We searched the janitor's
room. We didn't find anything.

Of course, we don't know
that anything was stolen.

Kaufman.

Homicide.

Details?
Female... White... 21...

Unmarried...
Schoolteacher... Strangled...

3 o'clock this morning.

- He entered through the bedroom window.
- Oh.

- Do we have any lipstick?
- Lipstick?

This joker's much too clever ever
to leave lipstick again, Burt.

She got her hands in his hair.
We took a couple

strands from underneath
her fingernails.

That's good.

- Anything?
- No. He must have used gloves.

He left the book here
deliberately, to laugh at you, Burt.

And every time,
he'll leave a different clue.

Look, Sergeant, I've been here
over nine hours and all I've got

is what every other reporter in town has,
a general release on the Felton murder.

Tim, you and I have been
friends for a long time.

I need something special,
something for myself.

Is this case any good against Pilsky?

- Pretty good.
- Be specific, Tim. I won't forget you.

Well...

If I was to tell you
why we picked Pilsky up -

Yeah, why, why?

You... you wouldn't say
where you got it, promise?

Promise.

Well, Pilsky's fingerprints
are on the murder weapon.

Oh, thanks, Tim. You won't regret it.

Wait. Wait till I'm out of the office.

Mark Loving, sister, quick.

Mark? I've got the inside
dope on the Felton case.

What? Great work, Gerald!
That's great. Hold the line.

Phone in to Walter Kyne that
I've cracked the Lipstick Case.

Joe, Gerald Meade's on my line, take it.

Give me the call on Mr. Loving's line.

Don't give it to the copy desk
- feed it directly to the wire.

Tom!

- Good morning.
- 'Morning, Mark.

Want to make a bet?

On what?

On me.

Hold it, Jim.

- Cal, who sent it?
- Washington.

Break them. Give this four bells.

Mark. Can I believe this?
You cracked the lipstick case?

I certainly did!

We've got a scoop on the
biggest story in the country.

- Did this go over the wire?
- For God's sake!

Oh, I'll be...

Mark's killing it.

Killing it? What's the matter with him?

That idiot Meade.

What's the matter with you?
Wasn't he quoting a cop?

Nothing a cop says outside
a courtroom is privileged.

What do you mean by that?

Anything you repeat, no matter from what
source, if it doesn't sit under oath,

you'd better stand on it yourself.

What do you mean?

He means if the old man
didn't kill her, it's libel.

Libel!

You could be sued. Any newspaper that
uses your wire service could be sued.

Well, what kind of a wire
service are you running, anyway?

I killed it, didn't I?

You two don't have to
quote me the law of libel!

Of course not, Walter.

You missed something, Ed.
Meade almost scuttled Loving.

Look... Read that copy, Jon.

Sensational. Can you substantiate?

Nope. May be a pipe dream. But if it
is, Kaufman and I are smoking together.

In any case, I'm going on the
air with it in five minutes.

Hold it for the paper, Ed. Let me
hit the street with it by seven.

Use it in your night show.

Is that what you want?

I want to get the job, that's the idea.

And to get the job, I'll stick
a knife in anybody I have to.

Oh, I know, I know! If I had any ethics
left, I'd give it to Loving for his wire.

OK, OK. I'll take it to him myself.

Don't call yourself my
boy, Meade! You're through!

Meade, you're through.

When you killed that bulletin, you
promised your clients a new lead.

I think that will do it.

Great scot!

You got one minute lead
on Mobley's telecast.

That boyfriend of yours who set out to help
me, just put your boss a mile out in front.

Mr. Walter Kyne presents the
distinguished author, columnist,

and Pulitzer prize winner Edward Mobley...

in his perceptive
analysis of the day's news...

It's already on the wire.
Wait till you hear.

Ladies and gentlemen,

at approximately 3 a. m.
This morning, in our city,

one human being took the life of another.

In our world, acts of violence are not rare

and so my excuse,
or I should say, my reason

for giving importance
to this particular story,

is my hope that the killer
may be listening to me.

For I believe that in his progress
to the chair, or to the insane asylum,

that he has reached a way station,
where his sick and warped ego

demands to be fed with the milk of self
- importance.

And so, with the consent of
a very good friend of mine,

who is by way of being a
remarkable criminologist,

but who has also asked that
his name not be credited,

I'm going to say a few things
to the killer, face to face.

Item one: Mr. Unknown, you will
not for very long remain unknown.

Item two: You're husky.

Strong enough to have choked
to death this morning

a poor school teacher
by the name of Laura Kelly.

Item three:

You are the same killer who,
last week, bludgeoned to death

a girl by the name of Judith Felton.
You are the Lipstick Killer.

Item four: You read the
so-called comic books.

Item five: You have dark brown hair.
A few strands of your hair were found

beneath the fingernails
of your latest victim.

Item six: You're young. A crime
lab examination of your hair reveals

that you're approximately
twenty years of age.

Item seven: You're a mama's boy.

Item eight: The normal feeling of love
that you should have toward your mother

has been twisted into hatred, for her -

And all of her sex.

Item nine...

May I come in, dear?

I heard the television,
so I knew you were up.

It must have been about four o'clock
when I heard you come in this morning.

I don't like working so late. - Oh,
I know. I know how it is with my boy -

studying all day, working all night, and
I know how difficult it has been for you

ever since your father left us.

He's not my father!

And you're not my mother.

- Robert, don't say that.
- Why not? It's true, isn't it?

When you adopted me, you
wanted a girl, didn't you?

And he wanted a boy!

Well neither one of you
was satisfied, were you?

I remember once when I was eight
years old... eight years old...

I was helping you dust the house...

and that woman from across
the street came over and said,

"My, my. "And you said, "Yes, I know...

"he's exactly like
a little girl, isn't he?"

But, Robert, you are my son

and my daughter

and all the children I ever
wished I could have had.

Don't you love your mother?

Shall I show you how much I love my mother?

Oh I have such a good boy!
Now I'll bring your breakfast.

You must be awfully hungry.

And so, with this most happy
news about my personal life,

I close until I visit with
you again at eleven tonight.

In the meantime,

for any further developments in
the case of the Lipstick Killer,

read The Sentinel,
which hits your newsstands

with its first edition
at seven this evening.

Did he really get Nancy's OK on this thing?

He must have. Here, he's bringing her.

- Hi.
- Burt, it's good to see you.

Hello, Burt, Nancy, Jon.

Tonight, we celebrate.

Thanks, Jon. It's worth getting engaged.

That was a pretty flossy
telecast your boy did.

Now we've got to get
ready for the next step.

What do you mean? Haven't you
talked this over with Nancy?

Well the next step is to the Altar.

I'm talking it over with her now.

Nancy, you got the idea of my telecast,
to insult the killer.

Yes.

He'll get mad at me and anybody I like.

And if I know his maniacal mind, sooner
or later, he'll come out after the bait.

Well...

What bait?

Ha! Some nice girl,
like the other two.

Who?

Ha Ha! A nice girl with
a button lock on her door.

You mean someone named Nancy?

Nancy, you see that man in the
dark suit sitting over at the bar?

His name is Mike O'Leary.

He's a plain clothes man
from Burt's department.

From now on, he'll be your shadow.
He'll take you to the Red Cross tonight,

and then home to your room, and
make sure the door is locked.

Mornings, you won't leave until he's
there to go with you, wherever you go

you'll be safer than you've
ever been in your life before.

That's the kind of guy
you're going to marry.

I like the kind of guy I'm going to marry.

I told him last night I'd do anything
for him. I won't let him down.

All right, darling, I'll do
it. Let's keep it in the family.

I was pretty sure you'd say yes, but
it's a good thing you did say yes,

because the announcement of our
engagement is already in the paper.

What do you know?
Nancy engaged to Ed Mobley.

That nice little secretary of
yours, darling.

- I wonder what she's got.
- Well, apparently she's got Mobley.

- No, I mean to attract a man.
- Oh, forget them love. I'm worried.

- About the job?
- What else?

Kyne worries me. He was humiliated
today in front of everyone

and it's my fault.

You made up for it with the scoop
on Mobley on his own telecast.

Let me tell you the facts of life.
That break was an accident of timing.

If only I had Mobley in my
corner. He knows the right people.

- Don't you?
- Oh, sure.

I know the head waiter of the
Stork, and the Colonnier, and "21",

and I know the fellow at the dog
show, and the fellow at the dog show

knows the fellow at the horse show,
and the fellow at the horse show

knows the people at the Waldorf, and
the people at the Waldorf know me,

but Mobley knows the right cops.

Well, Mark, talk to him.

It might do a great deal of harm
if he rats about it to Griffith.

Dear heart. You want me to
have this job, don't you?

You don't have to ask that.

Then go to Mobley for me.

What?

You. You know him much better than I do.

You could tell him about
me. He'd listen to you.

I've seen him look at you.

You've seen him look at me, huh?

Those eyes of his. Have
you ever noticed those eyes?

Oh, yes. Yes, I've noticed them.

- Might be fun.
- That's my baby.

Well, all right, I know what to say, but
how far do I have to go to get it said?

Mildred, we're adults. I
love you very completely.

Anything you might do for me will
make me love you all the more.

Thank you. And I love you too, Mark.

And I certainly hope that you and
Miss Liggett will be very happy.

I thank you, Carlo. What day is this?

- Still Tuesday. Ha! My day
off. The rest is killing me.

Nancy's night at the Red Cross.
I could sure use some first aid.

Hello. Hello, hello.

- Want to buy me a drink?
- Carlo.

- Yes, sir.
- Champagne cocktail, brandy float.

Yes, ma'am.

- Going someplace?
- No.

- Well, you're all dressed up?
- Like it?

- Very much.
- Well, thank you.

Now I don't think I'm going anywhere
now that I've found you down here.

Oh, well!

Sometimes I'm in a mood
where I love to speak my mind.

Tonight's one of those times. All right?

Sure, it's all right. I
think it's spectacular.

Well, you're a pretty spectacular
guy. Believe me, I've known a couple.

Skol.

Where's your gentlemen friend?

Where's your lady friend?

Cigarette?

Pretty?

Mmmmm.

Would I like?

Ahh... you can see it all later!

- Oh, come on.
- No, no, no, I said later.

Ahh... I said later.

- Another drink, please.
- Yes ma'am.

One for Mr. Mobley, too.

You know, Mark was terribly
upset by that libel business.

Don't worry, Mildred,
your man may get in yet.

Darling, I wish you wouldn't
keep calling him 'my man'.

Well he's certainly not mine!

Why don't you come clean and
confess. He sent you here.

All right. He sent me. But I hope
it isn't going to spoil things

'cause I wanted to come.

- Quite a messenger.
- Oh you men, you're all polygamists.

- You too, Mobley.
- Faithful as the day is long.

Mmm, if it's the shortest day of the
year. But where would women like me be

if it wasn't for men like you.

And if I take another drink
tonight, I'll fall flat on my face.

- Where's Mrs. Kyne?
- She had to go to her mother's, Sir.

Again?

Well, anyway... tonight I wouldn't
trade places with anyone.

Look at that... a doll of a front page.
Best front page in the city.

That's very nice, Sir.

But I need a right hand man.
Today I made an ass of myself.

Who shall it be?

Loving... or Griffith... Kritzer?

Mr. Loving: A conniver. Well,
every business needs a conniver.

That Griffith: A doll of a front page.

Harry Kritzer?

But which is your best,
Walter? Your b-e-s-t?

Mr. Walter Kyne's residence.

It's Mrs. Kyne, sir.

Hello.

Hello, darling. I'm still at mother's.

Oh, what's the matter, Walter?

Every once in a while I'd like to come
home and find you here, that's all.

I thought you're mother
didn't have a telephone.

I came down to the drugstore especially.

I bought a copy of the final
edition. It's wonderful!

I thought Harry's artwork was marvelous!

All right, all right, I like it.
Now, how soon can you get here?

Then I'll have Steven meet
you at the door in his BVD.

Okay, me then!

Well! He swallowed it. The question
is, even for Walter, how long will he?

Long enough, let's hope.

How long is long enough?

Long enough for me to get the job.
What else?

For me to get you the job. That's
what you mean, isn't it, darling?

However you want to put it, let's not fail.

- And then?
- And then?

What are you in this for, Harry?

Is getting the big job like the
satisfaction of having the big man's wife?

What's gotten in to you?

And what am I in it for?

If you're just a pastime,
sweet, you're a very risky one.

With all I have, what is it I want?

Only the pleasure of paying
back the man who bought me

by giving his most prized
possession to someone else?

What are you driving at, Dorothy?

Just this. If I make my
husband give you the big prize,

you won't be Walter's man, you'll be mine

and you'll do as I say,
and you won't forget that. Ever.

OK, kitten, if you want to imagine
yourself as Lady Macbeth or someone -

You just think about that, darling,

because I can always
still change my mind.

OK, kitten, we'll think...

and think...

and think.

- I told him I'd come right home.
- Uh uh.

Don't you want me to do
my utmost in your behalf?

Oh, it's probably the drugstore.
That was the last bottle of scotch.

The drugstore!

One moment please.

Keep the change.

Carlo... Carlo... we are
discussing romance, you know.

Of course, I gather we are at the stage
of discussing it in rather general terms.

Well it's something to think about.

You see, Carlo, there is
also a physical side to love

and some women are more
demanding than others...

and some automobiles are blue.

Oh, darling, look. Of course
I want Mark to prosper.

I want him to be happy,
I want him to get the job

but if you should ask me if it's love,
I'd simply have to say I just don't know.

- So, when do you expect to find out?
- Maybe an hour or so.

- Carlo's going to have a busy night!
- Just Carlo?

- Oh, Ed, look, am I attractive to you?
- I'm in no condition...

but, objectively speaking,
I would say yes... very.

Come on to my place.

I would also say that I am a poisonous,
black-souled, weak-kneed so-and-so.

- So, all right. Your cigarettes.
- Thank you.

Oh, I'm sorry, very sorry.

That's the famous Ed
Mobley, isn't it?

Well he's something
less than famous tonight.

The woman he's with
- they're engaged?

- What's her name? Liggett or something?
- No that's somebody quite different.

- Oh, I hate kissing in taxis.
- You do?

It's much more fun at home.

Didn't realize you
graded things like that.

Sure you do.

- Your hands are cold.
- Madame, I'm blasted.

The movement of this cab
is slightly inimical to me.

The fact that I can say inimical
proves just how drunk I am.

Oh, darling, I'm not just
doing this for Mark, believe me.

And not out of any
sense of honesty or

principle or faithfulness
to the bride-to-be.

I have to tell you this:

I didn't get any sleep last night
and darn little the night before,

on top of everything else,
I'm getting sick.

I'm human
and human beings get sick.

Oh. I'll make you some coffee when
we get home. I make marvelous coffee.

I wonder what the nice
people are doing tonight.

- Did Mildred tell you, too?
- Mildred's told everybody.

You ought to feel pretty good today.

Your telecast was picked up by
nearly every paper in the country.

Of course, if this whole idea of
provoking the killer doesn't pan out,

you and I are going to
be way out on a limb.

My limb got sawed off.

- How is Mildred?
- Everybody knows my business.

Nancy too?

I called her in the middle of the night.

- You wanted her to be the first to know?
- I wanted her to hear it from me.

Everybody around here
has heard it from Mildred.

Oh?

She says she now she knows you won
the Pulitzer Prize for writing.

It's not the way it was at all.

If I'm going to be hung,
don't hang me for a sheep.

Come to papa and confess.

I'm going to check with the
accounting department for this.

Mr. Loving's office.

I'm getting pretty sick of
your unreasonable attitude.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Walter Kyne
will fall off his chair.

- Congratulations, Mr. Loving.
- Thank you, my dear.

Make three copies of it.

Send copies to Griffith
and to Kritzer. I'll

show the original to
Walter Kyne myself.

- To Mr. Griffith and Mr. Kritzer.
- OK.

Mr. Loving's office.

Walter Kyne's not in. Try him at home.

Listen.

"M. Loving, Kyne Enterprises,
New York, New York. Dear Mark,

Your scoop on Mobley's sensational
telecast was the clincher.

You may regard the Midwest
Television deal as closed.

Congratulations, Joe."

- You're kidding?
- That's what you get for being honest.

- Where's Mobley?
- I saw him go out a little while ago.

Try Mobley at the Dell. If
he isn't there, find him.

Operator, is the Kyne residence
still busy? He would be.

Well, I'm glad you're
pleased, Walter, very glad.

Fine. Fine, Mark. Yeah. Yeah, we'll talk
about it when I come down to the office.

Right.

- What is it, dear?
- Ahh, I'll tell you later.

Something worries my boy.

- That darn race I started.
- Oh that.

Come over here, darling,
you're so far away.

I wish I could help you.

Don't you worry your
- Empty little head? Fix my back, huh?

and tell me your troubles.
Are you sorry you started it?

Of course not. I just don't
want to make a mistake.

You won't.

That was Mark Loving on the phone.
He brought in the big Midwest deal.

It was worth half a million
if it's worth a penny.

Just when I'd begun to favor Griffith,
much as I personally dislike him.

Don't tell me you've narrowed
it down to just those two?

Ah, they're whaling away but it's the
third one that worries me the most.

- Did I hurt you?
- No darling, nobody has such hands.

How do you know?

- Well, certainly not from experience.
- That I'd bet on.

Harry worries you?

Doesn't he want the job?
He's doing nothing.

He's just going on, doing his
work. Well, maybe it's just as well.

I'd more or less ruled him out.

Oh, I wouldn't do that.

I mean, angel... well, now, isn't
that exactly the kind of man you want?

Did Harry write that speech for you?
Have you got a crush on this guy?

Did I tell you to invite him? You're
the one that brings him around.

Oh, I'm kidding, of course.

Oh I'll get it. Your hands are oily.

Funny thought though. That
duck legged so- and-so Kritzer.

If the reason he doesn't seem
to be fighting like the others

is because he's working on me through you.

Ha! Too funny for words.

Oh if that's the office, I'm
staying here until late afternoon.

Hello?

Dorothy, the roof's falling in
down here. I've got to see you.

Why, Mary, darling. How nice, but I can't.

Walter's staying home with me today.

Oh, I'd love to go to the fashion show,

but Walter won't be going
to the office till late afternoon.

Get away. Use the old excuse.
Everything depends on it.

I know I promised and it
would be divine, but...

Call me in an hour or so, huh? Bye.

I wouldn't mind too much,
if it'd be fun for you.

Oh, you don't want me to leave you
for a silly old fashion show, do you?

Buy things I shouldn't have.

- Oh go ahead, dear, I like you
to have nice things. I insist.

Well, darling, when you put it that
way... if you insist, of course I'll do it.

Haven't you located Mobley yet?
Try Lt. Kaufman, maybe he'll know.

The whole thing was snide scheme.

You made Burt call me for lunch
just so you could get at me.

Nancy... look, I may be a snide,
but doubled in spades, but I didn't...

There comes Burt now.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Lover's spat?
- Yeah, she just called me a dirty name.

And not in a very admiring tone of voice.

- Oh. Eddie was a bad boy, huh?
- In a taxi cab.

I told you I got sick and went home.

Ask him what he was doing
there in the first place.

- All right. What were you
doing there in the first place?

I was seduced. Loving sicked his dame
on me and I had a few drinks with her,

let her kiss me, told her no on Mark Loving
and dropped her off in front of her hotel.

I didn't even go up for a cup
of coffee, invited though I was.

Another time?

- Yes Sir?
- Brandy.

And a hemlock for me.

Burt, it's not what he did or didn't
do. He just doesn't know how to say no.

The night we got engaged, I
told him he didn't mean it.

He said I was crazy,
the next thing I know he'd

caressing Mildred Donner
in a common carrier.

If he wants to marry me,
why does he have to do that?

Stop the world and let me off.

Work your beef out later, children.
Let's get down to business.

Now, what I've got to say is
strictly over this table, all right?

Sure.

OK. The two murders and maybe some before -

Were not committed by the same man.

They were. We went back in
to the Felton girl's place

and found a strand of hair which
matches the hair from the second murder.

Well, what's the big secret?

I've got more for you.
Equally confidential.

Everything is confidential.
Except me and Mildred.

Now, listen, we've run onto the
record a string of unsolved burglaries,

committed months ago. We think that's
the way this boy may have started.

He steals only ladies' things,
from lone, unprotected girls.

This guy's a real nut on dames.

And this description
begins to fit Mobley?

Now, Burt, I know our next move.

Put Nancy's picture in the paper
or use her on the telecast.

Oh, no you don't.
Print Mildred's picture. Use her.

- Where are you going?
- Out of your life.

I'm so much in love with her, it aches.

Well, she's loved you too.
She's treated you right.

But I didn't do anything!

You figure if you're drunk
it doesn't count, huh?

I only kissed her.

The way I just heard it, she kissed you.

A few more times around, this is
going to be a pretty lively story.

- But I didn't do anything!
- The next time, you will.

- There won't be a next time.
- Well, tell Nancy that.

Yeah, tell Nancy.

For you, Mr. Mobley.

Aha! She made it just as far as the
first telephone booth. Strong woman.

Honey, I graciously accept your apology.

Griffith: Don't honey
me miserable character!

Now Mark Loving is being
congratulated from Tokyo to Timbuktu!

Only a miracle can help me now. And you
dillydallying in a haunt of pleasure.

Somebody has to have some fun.

That was Griffith.

Burt, let's think.

His crimes have become more and
more frequent, more violent, bolder.

He's got to have a new element
in them now, something, uh...

- What do you mean?
- Well, something daring.

Every murder he committed
has always been at night.

- Yeah.
- Then maybe...

What?

- The next one will be in cold daylight.
- You think, uh...

Yeah, that figures, the final insolence...
broad daylight.

You mean something that
will satisfy his urge to kill

but at the same time
increase his excitement.

Burt! Maybe to kill even
while she's guarded.

Are you going to be in for
the next hour, Miss Liggett?

All day.

Then I'll get some lunch
down at the corner.

The phone number's written on this card.

If you change your mind,
be sure and let me know.

I promise.

Who is it?

Ed.

Go away, Mobley, leave me alone.

Please, leave me alone.

What do you want?

Get out of here!

Get away!

Help! Help!

Oh, let me in, please! Close the door!

Stop him! He's the
killer, stop him, stop him!

- Nancy! Are you all right?
- He ran around the corner. Hurry! Hurry!

Get up there!

Charles, you'd be amazed! This
phone hasn't stopped ringing.

I never knew I had so many friends.

Of course, it doesn't necessarily mean the
big thing. At least, that's not official.

Well?

We got him, Jon.
We've really got him.

- Are we ahead of the other papers?
- Absolutely alone. An hour, maybe more.

Kaufman's got him here
now, in a precinct

station. He's questioning
him in the next room.

If this gets on the police ticker,
it'll be in every newsroom in town.

Don't worry, Jon. It will get on
as an ordinary Precinct arrest,

man molesting a woman. Happens every day.

No paper will bother to pick
that up. Everything worked.

This guy knocked on Nancy's
door, she wouldn't open it,

so he went after another woman on the
same floor. We got it from O'Leary.

We're two hours away from deadline.
Have you got enough to go with now?

Yes. I've got murder, Jon.

The Kelly girl and the Felton girl
and at least two more before then.

How are you going to handle it?

Extra! What do you think I'd do?
And I don't want any boy scout talk

about Loving and the wire
service or anything else.

Anybody who's going to read this
will read it in The Sentinel.

Hold on. I'll give it
to Healey. Jim! Jim! Jim!

Healey! Healey! Jim!

Take this right here. Make it quick.

I want the front page down to the
fold. Remake anything you've set.

We're putting out an extra.
Don't say anything about this.

Circulation.

Benny? Jon Griffith.

How many trucks you got handy?

Extra. And I want it spread midtown
- Grand Central, Penn station, bus terminal

by 5:30. Keep everybody's
yap shut. First run, 20,000.

Jon? What about pictures?

We don't need pictures. Kritzer doesn't
have to know anything about this.

Mrs. Kyne, please. She left that long ago?

Well, thank you, Steven.

Nothing more about the women he molested?

That's all up till now.
Just says she's a Mrs. Charles Smith.

I'll call you back.

He should get another
Pulitzer prize for this.

Ha! You may get something too.

I want the first paragraph 8 columns, 14
- point bold.

Nobody moves from this desk.

- I wish I could trust you, Mildred.
- Can't you, darling?

To get the woman's angle,
how could I use a sob story.

But I'm not your type of
man. You'd give it to Loving.

- I'm an independent operator now.
- Really?

Certainly. Can't complain,
he turned me loose.

OK, I'll take a chance. There's a bonus in
it for you, if you deliver it just to me.

Very little Mark could
do about it now, anyway.

Is it a good story, Jon?

It's a pip. Do you know
where Nancy Liggett lives?

Nancy? Sure.

Go up and interview the woman
you'll find there. Right now.

Right now. Thank you.

- Where have you been?
- Here and there, darling.

You're the only one who
hasn't congratulated me.

Well, uh, congratulations.

- You still my baby?
- You ought to know that, love.

Thanks so much.
Mrs. Smith is very grateful.

That's all right.

Thanks very much for the sweater.
I'll return it as soon as possible.

No hurry, Mrs. Smith.

Mrs. Liggett... we... we trust in
your discretion, Mrs. Smith and I.

And again, thanks so much.
Thank you, Miss Liggett.

Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. Walter Kyne.

Oh, no, you can't be the woman
I'm supposed to interview?

- Did Mark Loving put you up to this?
- No, darling, he didn't.

I think you're lying.

Well, Harry, I don't
particularly care what you think.

- Who is this, Harry?
- Mildred Donner, from the office.

Oh well.
Why don't we all have a drink.

Good idea.
Harry looks as though he needs one.

And then let's talk. After all, we
are three civilized human beings.

- Well of course. Let's talk.
- Yeah, let's.

Nancy... can't we let Bygones be bygones?

You got your story, Ed.
A big scoop. So be happy.

But I don't want to be
happy. I want... Nancy? Nancy?

She hung up on me.

Here's the full text of the confession.
Would you like to have it exclusive?

- Thanks Burt.
- You can buy me a drink sometime.

Sure. Sure.

There she blows!

I haven't given very much thought
to my successor.

I'll keep you in mind.
OK. Bye.

Extra?

Joe! Get this on the wire!

- Neat but nasty.
- Want to make a bet, Mark?

- On what?
- On me.

- Jon, how long have you had this story?
- It seemed a lifetime.

Well, then, why didn't
give it to the newswire?

- You can ask that again.
- I did.

After you'd extra'd!

Your newswire still had it first, and your
New York paper was on the street with it.

Hey, maybe you were right.
That was good thinking, Jon.

It's every man for himself around
here now, if it was good thinking.

And another thing, why haven't
we got a picture of the murderer?

- Where was Kritzer when this thing broke?
- I don't know. You can ask him.

Well, I'd like a little
more cooperation around here.

Well, where have you
been? Don't you work here?

- You'll find out where I've been.
- I've got something to take up with you.

Harry, who do you think you're talking to?

And right now, Walter, in the
privacy of your office. Come on.

Mildred... what's going on?

Well?

Oh, about the race,
daring, I have news for you.

You've both come in a tie...

for second place.

Laugh it off, Jon. You're still the best
newspaper editor in the United States.

Of the Sentinel, anyway.

And the whole thing figures.

- How can you say that? Harry Kritzer.
- I say it figures.

There you were, you and
Loving, batting your brains out.

Loving brings in a television
contract worth half a million dollars.

You and I cook up a
scheme to catch the killer.

Endangering, let us not forget, the life
of one of the most wonderful gals in the -

Carlo, can you find me a
sandwich and a glass of milk?

You bet I can.

Continue. You get a great scoop.

The text of the full confession
of the killer, exclusively

and who ends up on top?
Honest Harry Kritzer.

Because all the time he's been
playing footsie with Walter's wife.

- Shall I continue?
- Continue. I love to be sad.

Harry Kritzer gets the job,
Walter Kyne gets his wife back

and Mildred Donner ends up
with a syndicated column.

And you and I each get a $1,000 bonus.

They'll have to mail mine to me. I've quit.

- You don't mean that.
- Kyne has my letter of resignation.

Am I supposed to laugh this off, too?

Every man protects what
is most precious to him.

It gets down to the squeeze, Jon.
That's it.

Big men protect big things and
little men like Walter Kyne -

Don't stop on my account.

May I, uh, serve all you
gentlemen a drink on the house?

- I'll have mine straight, Carlo.
- Yes, Sir.

I invited you to to continue, Mobley.

Little men protect what they
consider most precious, too.

Walter Kyne. What does he have to protect?

His face. Appearances. The appearances
that go along with $10 million

and a smile from the owner
of the Cub Room and...

a beautiful, faithless wife.

Feel sorry for him, Jon. He carries
his own cross on his 2 x 4 shoulders.

He knows just how little he really is.

I'll mail you a postcard, Jon.

Ed! Ed!

I don't know why we had to travel
all night to get married in Florida.

They do it nice here.

- You folks read the local paper?
- That's just why we came.

- Thank you.
- I'll take it.

My, my, they have it here, too:
"I Confess: Full Text of the...

"the New York Lipstick Killer's
Confession, by Edward Mobley."

- So I confess.
- And listen to this...

"Mr. Walter Kyne announces the appointment

So he confesses, too.

"Announces the appointment

Look, I haven't had any sleep for two
nights, honey. Get your things off.

It's your wedding day.
You want to look nice.

"Announces the appointment
of Jon Day Griffith

as Executive Director
of Kyne Newspapers...

and associated enterprises."

Ahh, you're making that up.

"And announces that Mr. Harry Kritzer -

"Mr. Harry Kritzer,
veteran chief of Kyne Pix...

"leaves immediately on a two year tour
as a roving ambassador of goodwill...

to friendly nations all over the globe."

Little boys grow up. You never know.

"At the same time, Mr. Kyne
disclosed the appointment...

"of Mildred Donner, former womens'
writer to the newly created post...

of personal assistant to Mr. Kyne."

Now, that's better. Romance is not dead.

"Consistent with the
policy of rewarding merit

Look at this beautiful
nightgown. And a shorty, too.

- Put it down, darling, it's daylight.
- And you can see right through it.

"Consistent with the
policy of rewarding merit...

"Mr. Edward Mobley will
be tendered the position...

of Managing Editor of
the New York Sentinel."

Where?

My, my, how warm it gets down here.

They can't do this!

Wait till I see him.

I'll tell him a few things.

What does he think? Everybody
has to jump when he whistles?

I did something for you this morning.

I know you did. You made
an honest man out of me.

I couldn't buy you that explorers' license
darling. They never heard of such a thing.

The best I could do was a hunting license.

That would be Mr. Kyne. Was there
something you wanted to say to him?