Original subtitles

Scotch, single malt, oldest you have in the house.

Make it a double.

Celebrating something?

Not exactly.

A little trouble at home, huh?

Mister, you don't know the meaning of the word "trouble."

Hey, l'm a bartender.

I've heard all the stories there are.

Not this one.

Ty me.

Go on, ty me.

Why not?

Why the hell not?

You ever find yourself walking down a dark street,

and you think you hear footsteps coming up slowly,

somebody iust out of sight?

Is this New York, or is this New York?

No, that's not what l mean.

It's not exactly what l mean.

Charlie.

Charlie.

- Come out of there, Charlie. - No!

Come on, Charlie.

You're not gonna stay in there all night, are you?

Hey, you!

Knucklehead, get outta here!

I was in trouble, see...

Trouble of a vey special kind.

That's when Eddie Mallard came intD my life.

What can l tell you about Eddie Mallard?

Yeah?

Yes, it is.

No, l don't find missing dogs.

Fuck you, too, ma'am.

What are you doing in here with that cube?

I can't afford modern games.

No, what are you doing in here? I told you to get out.

Didn't that check come through? I mailed that... back rent, eveything.

There is no check.

L'd complain to the post office if l were you... losing a man's check.

Tomorrow you get out or l throw you out.

Where am l gonna find a place as nice as this?

No philosophy.

Get lost, you loose sack of shit.

Mr. Mallard?

Yeah?

I'm looking for the private...

Yes. Come in.

Have a seat.

Sit down.

You didn't call.

No, l wasn't expecting to be here.

I've visited five or six private investigators the past few days.

You're the last on my list.

I'm glad to be anmhere on the list, Mister...

Rand. Charles Rand.

Actually, l was in the building for another interview...

Ames & Ames... and l noticed your name in the lobby.

You went to see Ames up on six?

Yes. He wouldn't take the case.

- Must be a lollapalooza. - Not really.

- You offered him money? - Quite a lot of money.

And now l'm going to offer it to you.

What the hell do you need done?

I want you to find my wife. Shouldn't be hard.

She's in New York. She's following me.

If she's following you, why don't you let her catch up to you?

I don't want to see her. I want you to see her.

I want you to tell her...

tell her to leave me alone.

- Are you and your wife divorced? - No.

Wouldn't that be a logical place to start if you want her off your back?

- L can't divorce my wife. - Why not?

My wife was killed in a boating accident in 1975.

- L beg your pardon? - My wife is dead.

That's why divorce is out of the question.

Your wife has been dead for over ten years,

and she's following you around, and you want me to...

That's right, Mr. Mallard.

How much you offering?

$1 75 a day plus expenses.

$1,OOO cash in advance.

That will probably end up covering the entire project, Mr. Mallard.

I'm desperate.

I think...

l'm your man.

I will insist you start right away

and devote full time to this case, Mr. Mallard.

Call me Eddie.

I looked him right in the eye and said, "Sure, l'll do it.

L'll find your dead wife for you. No problem."

lt's a missing persons case.

You look, you report your findings... it's your job.

This guy needs professional help, but l didn't send him to a doctor.

No, l humored his delusion

because the sight of $1,OOO turned me into an asshole.

You've been an asshole as long as l've known you.

I could be sending this guy over the edge.

You could be helping him, Eddie. I'm serious.

Lots of bereaved people claim to have conversations with the departed.

It's not craziness. It's a way of coping.

So now l'm doing him a favor.

No, you're ripping off a sick, helpless man because you need the dough.

I'm tying to talk you into it so you can pick up the check.

Advance.

- Something you're forgetting. - What's that?

Maybe you'll earn that money fair and square.

Maybe you'll find her.

What are you doing here?

Bringing a bag of bagels to my favorite dick.

Gumshoe. Favorite gumshoe.

Favorite gumshoe. Favorite dick.

How'd you get off work at 1 1:30?

You dope, it's a federal holiday. Eveybody is off work.

That's why l got a cab so quick. I thought it was my lucky day.

Don't rule it out.

Since when do we take taxis to work, Mr. Mallard?

- L'm on a case. - Looks like a killer.

- It's harder than it looks. - Tim told me.

You're suckering some psycho out of his life savings.

L'd say it's a step up from ditching old girlfriends.

(A) Were you ever my girlfriend, and B) am l ditching you?

(A) Not by a long shot,

except maybe for six hours in Atlantic City that night.

Please.

(And B) not calling me for three weeks is ditching. It's ditching.

When a guy doesn't have two dimes to rub together,

he's got a certain amount of pride.

I don't wanna rub your dimes together.

- Go on, say it. - Say what?

- L'm too good for you. - You're too good for me.

Why do women have poor depth perception?

What?

It's a ioke.

Why do women have poor depth perception?

I don't know.

Because they're always being told that this is eight inches.

- Where are we goin'? - Nowhere.

Walking. She'll find me.

- Mostly she finds you at night. - That's right.

- She knows you're with me. - L'm not exactly hiding.

No, no, l mean she knows you're gonna be the end of her.

She senses menace.

If she always finds you at night, what are we doing in broad daylight?

She lusts for daylight.

She wants power in the daylight.

That's what makes her so dangerous.

- Take off towards the park. - What?

By yourself.

L'll tail you.

Good idea.

Stay back. She's near us now. She's near.

- Mr. Rand, it's time to go home. - No, it's not.

- It's 2:30. - 2:30?

It's time to go home.

- L'm not ready to go home yet. - You could stay...

No, no.

I'm scared to go home.

L'll sleep on your couch. How would that be?

Okay.

It's like drinking a cup of mist... A little breeze across the heather.

Shillelagh upside the head comes later.

- Not if you keep on drinking. - L'll keep on drinking

as long as you keep on pouring.

I hadn't planned to be quite so hysterical, Mr. Mallard.

Call me Eddie.

It's just that l haven't felt this safe in a vey long time,

and the thought of meeting her face to face again, well...

l can understand that.

- Can you? - Yeah.

Can you, Eddie?

I married my wife for her looks, and she married me for my money.

It always infuriated her that she had to mary

a rather unappealing man like myself to have the life she wanted.

She tried to make me fall in love with her so she could hurt me.

Really hurt me.

I never loved her.

Not even a little bit.

I mean...

l enjoyed her... Evey sense of the word.

I don't think any man ever enjoyed a woman's body more.

She was...

She is vey, vey beautiful.

Bewitching.

She's the kind of woman who stakes eveything on her beauty,

on her sex.

She didn't really exist unless she was twirling

some love-sick chump around her little finger.

If she came up against someone who was absolutely immune to her,

it made her feel like a ghost.

Nothing.

It may have something to do with why she's come back.

If you need another blanket, ty the hall closet.

That's where my cleaning lady stores them.

Yeah, right.

Yeah?

Excuse me.

Mallard.

Yeah.

Sure.

- That's her. - Where?

There, in the hat and the black dress.

- Jesus Christ, you can't miss her. - Oh, yeah.

- You sure that's her? - Go speak to her.

What?

Go speak to her. That's my wife.

Right here?

Find out what she wants. Tell her who you are.

Tell her she's gonna have to leave me alone.

What the fuck am l paying you for? Go on!

- You go find a nice bar... - L'm gonna wait right here.

Listen, remember eveything she says,

and don't let her outsmart you.

She's back from the grave, Eddie.

She knows things we don't know. Remember that.

All right.

Well, at least find out what she wants.

Okay. Okay.

Excuse me. See that man across the street there?

- Yes. - You ever see him before?

No.

That man thinks you're his dead wife

come back from the grave to haunt him.

He asked me to tell you to leave him alone.

That's the wildest line l've ever heard in my life.

It's not a line.

You're pretty good at it, too.

What am l supposed to do now?

If you could talk to me, it would really help.

- Right here? - Right here.

I've been on my feet all morning.

Can l buy you a cup of coffee?

You can buy me a drink, as long as it's someplace expensive.

Aren't you making me work a little bit too hard for this?

Let's go to the Summit.

Bingo.

- Yes, please? - A Scotch.

They're all the single malt. Make it a double.

- The same. - Yes.

I'm a private investigator, Miss.

This is really too much.

I'm gonna be disappointed if you're telling the truth.

My name is Eddie Mallard.

I really am a private investigator.

And how does someone get in touch with you

if they need a private investigator?

Well, l'm gonna give it vey serious consideration, Mr. Mallard.

Call me Eddie.

Eddie, take a good look at me.

I'm a woman with vey expensive tastes.

In other respects, l'm vey open-minded.

I can tolerate a thief,

l can tolerate an embezzler, and l can tolerate a racketeer,

but l cannot tolerate a man who wears $1 OO suits.

There's nothing fair about me, Eddie.

I start the game on Boardwalk and Park Place,

and eveybody pays.

Thanks for the drink.

It was fun.

How you doin', Mr. Mallard? Funny weather, Mr. Mallard.

Lookin' good today, Mr. Mallard. How about a tip, Mr. Mallard?

You're a prince, Mr. Mallard. Top of the month, Mr. Mallard.

Just blow me, Mr. Mallard.

Honesty has gotten me where l am today, Mr. Mallard.

- You're a romantic, Jimbo. - You're full of shit, Mr. Mallard.

Quack. Quack, quack.

- Where the hell you been? - L walked home. It's a long way.

Do you wanna come inside?

I can offer you a beer, mayonnaise.

No, no. Eddie...

- What does she want? - She didn't say.

Christ, she wants to drag it out, make me sweat.

She didn't say anything about... jewels?

Yeah. Jewels.

- She did mention the jewels? - Something, yeah.

That's what she wants. It had to be that.

What iewels are these, Charlie?

There came a time in our marriage

when l had to buy her sexual favors

with presents of one kind or another, usually jewels.

It had become part of the arrangement.

About a week before she died,

l bought her a particularly fine diamond choker.

Even she couldn't hide how much it pleased her.

The first time she appeared to me aftemards,

my first thought was, "Jewels... She's come back for her jewels."

- Still have 'em? - Thank God, yes, l do.

I meant to sell them right away, but something always stopped me.

Lucky thing.

Christ, yes, they'll save me now.

She'll leave me alone when she has 'em... l can feel it.

How are we gonna do it, Eddie?

We have to make the terms clear.

What do you want from her?

She has to say it out loud...

If she gets the jewels, she'll leave me alone.

- You wanna hear her say it. - Yes. But not in person.

On tape. You'll get her to say it on tape before you give her the jewels.

Why would you take her word for it?

The dead, Eddie... They can't lie.

They can ty to fool you, they can lead you into lies,

but they can't speak a lie with their own lips.

Something l learned.

How soon can you get the jewels to me?

Tomorrow, as soon as the bank's open.

I have 'em all together in a safe deposit box... 915.

She said she'd get in touch with me. We'll just have to wait on her.

So you give me those iewels.

We'll wait.

I came to apologize, Mr. Mallard.

What?

I came on pretty strong the other day.

Tough and cynical.

I was tying to be as clever as you were.

I guess l was a little scared.

Then it occurred to me you weren't doing a number on me at all.

I iust felt like a heel.

Don't be silly.

My name is Rachel.

I'm not tough at all.

I couldn't care less about your suit.

And l'd like to buy you a hamburger.

I'm used to rich people, Eddie.

When people start thinking of you in terms of money,

you start thinking of other people in terms of money.

You start thinking maybe it's smart to come on hard-boiled.

You think it's gonna protect you.

But it only protects you from the nice guys.

From people who don't think that way.

It's also sick.

And it's ugly, and l'm ashamed of it.

Why don't we start over?

My name is Eddie Mallard, and l'm a private investigator.

You're leaving out the best part.

You accused me of being a ghost.

Oh, that.

I've often wondered if there was any kind of pickup line l could fall for.

The problem is if you can think of them ahead of time, they're never gonna work.

I've heard them all... eveything from "Hey, baby, wanna fuck?"...

to...

l don't know, "You remind me of Lillian Gish."

But l've never had anyone call me a ghost before.

I have to admit, it's incredibly romantic.

Just a shot in the dark.

Yeah, but you're so on target, Eddie, you don't know.

I feel like a ghost half the time.

Like l've got some business here from another time

or another centuy.

I've forgotten what it was.

I don't have much of a life, Eddie.

It's a ghost's life.

I find that hard to believe.

That's because l look young.

But l'm not young.

I've been married.

And it was a horrible thing, and it's over.

But l'll never be young again.

Not the way l was.

Eveybody feels that way till they fall in love again.

Falling in love's always the first time.

I feel that way, too.

You remind me of Lillian Gish.

Hey, wanna fuck?

Well, this is where l say, "l've gotta be somewhere in five minutes"

and run out and catch my breath.

How do l get in touch with you?

Don't wory, l'll find you.

I should've called. I'm sory.

- Something serious? - No.

Yeah.

Come on in.

- There's nobody here. - Are these your novels?

Yeah.

Each one gets its own typewriter?

That's the detective stoy, foreign correspondent,

corporate intrigue, and science fiction.

I started them all in high school.

- Hard to say which one is worse. - Know a good fence?

Wait a minute.

Segue into that for me.

The guy with the ghost wife... It was all a gag.

I didn't want to tell you the truth,

which is that the guy had some jewels he wanted to get fenced.

I said l'd see what l could do for a 50-50 split, but l've come up flat.

- Major stash? - L haven't even looked.

Let's do it.

Half a million, maybe. More if it's all real.

- How hot is it? - No idea.

You mind risking iail for this?

No.

Yeah, me neither.

I got this friend who wrote a stoy about two years ago.

L'll find out how much heat is on this stuff and get back to you.

You can have half of whatever you get.

- You mean half of your half. - Yeah, right.

Are you thinking of stiffing this guy?

No, no. Just misspoke.

L'll let you know.

I don't know a thing about those jewels.

Guy might just wanna unload his wife's stuff without her knowing.

They came from a safe deposit box.

We'll proceed on that assumption.

Sometimes l think l am a ghost.

I think it's iust special effects.

How long you been waiting out here?

- A couple of hours. - You're crazy.

How about a tip, Mr. Mallard?

- What's the tip for? - Song.

He pays me not to sing 'em.

Thanks, oh, thanks. Just filling.

Take, oh, take the shilling and let us have no more.

Can you really play that thing, Jimbo?

You disgust me, Mr. Mallard.

Play a song.

Okay.

For $5, you get the best song.

- The best song of what? - Just the best song.

Oh, Danny boy

The pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen

And down the mountainside

The summer's gone

And all the roses falling

Because of you

You must go and l must bide

But come ye back

When summer's in the meadow

Or when the leaves are hushed

And white with snow

For l'll be here

ln sunshine or in shadow

Oh, Danny boy, my Danny boy

l love you so

But when you come

lf all the flowers are dying

lf l am dead

As dead l well may be

Just come and find

The place where l am lying

And kneel and say

Oh, _ves there for me

And l might hear

Though soft you tread above me

And though my grave

Could warmer, sweeter be

lf you should meet

And tell me that you love me

Then l might sleep in peace

Until you come

To me

Be merciful.

Silly. l'm such a dope.

If we stop right here, we'll have all the best of it straight.

It'll never get mixed up with anything else

and we'll just have the best of each other.

You're gonna have to tell me your whole name

so l can say it to myself when l'm walking around.

Rachel Carlyle.

Rachel Carlyle.

I live at 330 Central Park West.

Oh, no. No.

See, it's already getting dumb and practical and stupid.

You don't want my phone number.

You iust wanna look at me...

look at your beautiful ghost...

and see the way she's looking at you.

And then you want to close your eyes...

while she walks out of your life.

And if she never comes back again...

you won't care, because it's not about that.

It's about what you saw when she looked at you...

and the feel of her lips for the first time...

and the scent of her...

and the way her hair felt...

and the way she cried at that silly song.

And you had the best of her.

All the best of her.

Grandpa.

- Hello, squirt. - Grandpa.

I brought the pirate sword.

You shouldn't be here, Grandpa.

Well, that's true.

That is true.

The dead and the living are all mixed together.

You can't reason things out.

One of us, now,

one of us passed away a long time ago.

It confuses me, squirt.

But l remember when you were born as if it was yesterday.

But the other things...

Grandpa.

I remember the sword.

Oh, you wanted it vey badly.

It was promised to you,

but they buried me before l could give it to you.

Wasn't there anybody to buy it for you?

I didn't want it from anybody else. I only wanted it from you.

You told me...

you used to be a pirate.

That might not be true.

But l brought it.

- Do you still want it? - Yes.

Don't take it, Eddie boy.

Give it to me.

Don't take it.

L'll put it right here between us...

and you'll go to sleep.

Yes.

You will do that, won't you?

What the hell is it?!

- What is it? - Open up!

Jesus Christ!

I don't want anything to do with it.

- It's too creepy. - What's creepy about it?

Those are the real thing, all right... One mil worth of the real thing.

- You can have 'em. - What do you mean?

- You don't know about those? - Just what l told you.

Listen to this.

There was this society dame, see.

Back in 1975 she was killed in a boating accident on the river,

fell off a chartered party boat.

She left something in her will about wanting to be buried naked,

with nothing on but her iewels.

So her husband, who's sort of a nut in his own way,

goes ahead and does it.

So the undertaker talks or something.

Six months after they put her under, guess what...

Somebody digs her up

and relieves her of her finey.

Jesus Christ.

Eddie boy, those are the rocks she was buried in,

and they are hot as Hades.

Holy shit.

What was the husband's name?

Nobody could remember. I could find out if l was interested.

Found a guy who could move 'em out of the county.

By that time l was feeling a little sick to my stomach.

I'm feeling the same way.

L'll pass 'em to the guy, but l won't take anything for it.

I'm superstitious, Eddie. I'm Irish.

No. Fuck. Forget it. It's time to put a stop to this.

- L'm off the case. - No, you can't. l won't let you.

You lied to me about those jewels.

- How can you blame me for that? - L'm not interested.

Wait a minute. Listen to me.

You can listen to me for five minutes. You owe it to me.

Five minutes.

I buried her in the iewels.

I hired someone to get them back. Yes, l'm ashamed of it, Eddie.

But l paid. She's made me pay.

Put yourself in my place. I tried to do the right thing.

If l hadn't gotten those jewels, somebody else would have.

These things never stay secret for long.

That's how l thought about it.

So you hired somebody to dig up your wife and strip her.

I know. It's horrible.

I couldn't sleep for months aftemards.

I was sick at heart, Eddie. I still am.

How can you blame me for not telling you

when it had nothing to do with the job?

I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me now.

That's five minutes.

But l wasn't through with Eddie Mallard.

Not quite yet.

He'd given me the jewels back, see.

I figured he'd ty to fence 'em, find out how hot they were.

I wanted them out of the way for the time being, someplace safe.

This was part of the plan.

I checked them back in to the safe deposit box.

Then l wrapped up a dummy package.

L'd had some pastg _wely made up...

Nothing great, but g_ enough to pass a casual inspection.

I knew he'd never give 'em a second glance.

L'd given him the real jewels once. Why shouldn't l give them to him again?

He already thought l was crazy.

I thought l knew him pretty well by then.

Knowing him pretty well was important.

In a way, eveything depen_ on it.

Always had.

Come in.

I paid you a lot of money.

If you want off this case, that's fine.

But now that she knows l've got the jewels, l can't keep 'em.

You've got to do it.

You can throw them in the East River if you want to.

I'm betting you're not that kind of man.

I need time to find someone else to help me.

You need help, Mr. Rand, but not from a private investigator.

- So now l'm crazy. - One of us is.

Here's what l don't understand, Mallard.

What l'm paying you means nothing to me.

Pocket change.

It means a hell of a lot to you.

You're not a successful man.

Your profession is a ioke.

Now, l'm willing to pay you an additional $1,OOO cash advance

on the rest of the iob.

All you have to do is take that package to a woman

and get her word on tape she'll leave me alone.

And l'll give you a $5,OOO bonus

when l get that tape, too.

Now, even if l'm crazy, Mr. Mallard,

even then, what have you got to lose?

I swear to you, l swear to God,

you would be doing me a kindness, Mr. Mallard.

You would be giving me my life back.

Crazy or not, l'd be happy, Mr. Mallard.

I could sleep again.

L'll call you when l get the tape.

How long has it been?

Three weeks.

No good. You can't wait around that long for a lady to call.

Past the mystey woman deal by now.

You gotta make a move.

Othemise you're just toting up wimp points.

She's gonna make you pay for it later on.

I don't know how to reach her... There's no Rachel Carlyle in the book.

Have you completely Iost your mind?

Her name's not in the book? Jesus.

Why don't you hire a detective?

Or just ask Chuck for his dead wife's phone number.

Vey funny.

How'd he take it when you gave him back the jewels?

Told me l was crazy.

Maybe you are.

I'm through with this case, Tim... Professionally speaking.

You just have to go and see her. Didn't you tell me that...

Yeah, yeah, all right. She told me.

330 Central Park West.

Well, check it out.

I mean, if she's a hooker, a drug addict,

a born-again Christian, you might as well find out now.

I'm here to see Rachel Carlyle.

Ah, Miss Carlyle. Let me phone up for you, Mister...

Mallard.

Mr. Mallard.

I'm afraid Miss Carlyle is not upstairs just now.

- Wouldn't know when to expect her? - No, sir, l wouldn't.

But she is in town?

I'm afraid you'll have to ty some other time, sir.

When's the last time you saw her?

You'll have to ty again some other time.

- Are you sure you want to do this? - Are you sure you can?

I'm a reporter. l can sucker anybody out of anything.

Mister... Riley.

- Kelly. - Kelly. Sory, long day.

I'm Tim Holt work for the New! s.

- The News. - That's right.

We're doing a stoy on New York's ten best doormen.

- Well! - "Well" is right.

We get tips on these things, we check 'em out.

What we're looking for here is stories, anecdotes.

- Bet you got a couple of stories. - Oh, yes!

Kelly, can we just get you over here for two seconds?

Just for reference, l want to get a picture.

Get that sign in there, too.

Hold it.

- Was that good enough? - That was fantastic.

I thank you, Mr. Kelly, and we will be in touch with you.

Don't you want to hear any stories?

Yes, and l will be in touch with you, Mr. Riley.

- That's Kelly. - Kelly.

You remind me of Lillian Gish.

Let's get out of here.

Maybe a drink. Someplace expensive.

What makes you think l can afford someplace expensive?

You've got $1,OOO cash on you. I can smell it.

Do you know a guy named Charlie Rand?

Yeah.

He's the guy l was married to.

Divorced?

No.

- Separated. - You see him anymore?

I haven't spoken to him in ten years.

You can believe it, Eddie.

Don't you know?

Ghosts can't lie.

Let's go to Jack Dempsey's.

- Jack Dempsey's Restaurant? - Yeah.

Okay.

What are you doing?

That's it.

That's what?

The west side of Broadway between 49th and 50th...

Jack Dempsey's Restaurant.

Closed ten years ago. Nobody even remembers it.

I've killed you, Eddie, and l'm glad l did.

I'm glad!

City room, please, Tim Holt.

Tim, Eddie. Listen.

L'd like you to...

go ahead and check on that business with the jewels.

Raid the morgue down there. Just get me eveything.

Including pictures.

Jesus Christ!

What the hell are you doing?

You don't have a buzzer, you leave your phone off the hook.

Eddie, l need you.

Oh, my God! Jesus!

- Make love to me, Eddie. - You're bleeding to death!

Make love to me!

It bled a lot, but it wasn't deep.

I sacrificed one of your shirts for this.

Oh, God, l must be crazy.

I also made some coffee.

There are cups in here that haven't been washed...

since Jack Dempsey's closed.

I love fucking in the rain. Don't you?

Ty the fire escape ne_ time.

L'd love to fuck you in the middle of Grand Central Station,

stark naked in the middle of the floor.

We could get away with it, too. Nobody would believe their eyes.

You think Lillian Gish ever talked that way?

She was in silent pictures.

She could have been saying anything.

Wanna do me a favor?

Ask.

L'll do anything.

Help me out with a case.

What case?

A nut case.

Read that for me.

No, wait a minute.

Into the tape recorder.

What is this?

It's too stupid to explain. Just read it for me.

Any way you like.

You read it.

"ln return for my jewels, l promise to leave you alone, Charlie."

Just read it for me.

- L don't like this game. - It's gotta be a woman's voice.

- Come on. - Stop bugging me.

What did Charlie Rand look like?

He looked like an asshole.

He looked like something underneath a rock.

He was a scumbag and a thief.

If you ever mention his name again to me,

l'll claw your eyes right out of their sockets.

I got a funny feeling you would.

And l'd like it, too.

"ln return for my jewels, l promise to leave you alone, Charlie."

- Was that all right? - Just what's on the paper.

Don't say anything else until l turn the machine off.

Okay.

"ln return for my jewels, l promise to leave you alone, Charlie."

Got it.

- Does this involve something illegal? - Probably.

A couple weeks ago Tim said you and he

were working on some sort of crime caper.

Said you were gonna make a quick killing,

buy a yacht, and then we'd sail around the world.

First l heard of it.

- L don't like the sound of it. - Why not?

I haven't got anything to wear on a boat.

- Tell Tim to keep his mouth shut. - So it is true.

I'm probably an accessoy to a crime.

That's the most exciting thing that's happened in my life

since Bill Buckner missed that grounder.

- Thanks, Debbie. - Anytime.

- That's it? - That's it.

She didn't give you any trouble about it?

She did it.

In return for myjewels, l promise tD leave you alone, Charlie.

You can hardly hear it.

Turn it up.

In return for myjewels, l promise tD leave you alone, Charlie.

- What is this? - It's what you asked me for.

You didn't say you wanted digital sound.

I used a little hand-held.

In return for myjewels, l promise tD leave you alone, Charlie.

That's her voice, isn't it?

Yes.

Yes, it is.

Just sounds so far away.

That's that, then.

What did she say when you gave her the jewels?

She didn't say anything. What's she supposed to say?

There's $1 O, OOO there. That's how grateful l am, Eddie.

Take it, get out of here. Don't ever ty and contact me again.

You and l are quits.

Quits.

Whatever they tell you about me is true...

and worse than you can imagine.

But don't ever say you didn't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

You chose me, and you'll go on choosing me.

As amul as it gets,

you'll go on choosing me.

Why will l do that?

Because you love me.

Because you love me.

We looked at each other in the same way then.

But l can't remember where or when.

I iust lifted the whole file.

Need to get it back before they miss it.

Let me see it.

It's mostly junk, cross-references. I pulled out what you want.

Wedding announcement, no picture.

Financial analysis... "The Rand fortune."

Seems Chuck iust spent this stuff.

Tried to run the family business into the ground.

There was so much to start with, he's hardly made a dent.

When Rand got engaged to Rachel Carlyle,

it was gossip column stuff for a couple weeks.

That's the guy. Who's he with?

That's the fiancée...

Only daughter of Victor Carlyle, born Carlucci.

Widower, failed entrepreneur.

Made a little money in shoes, retail,

lost it all investing in youth movies in the '60s.

Arrested twice for beating up mistresses.

Can't see her face in that.

Published a high school photo with the obit.

Rand family wasn't vey helpful at the time.

Okay, should l go on?

Yeah.

Now, you might not want to see the pièce de résistance.

We've got police photos of the body

and the autopsy report.

Let me see 'em.

Oh, God.

It's pretty rough.

There she is.

Get out, and take that shit with you!

Hey, you okay, pal?

Get out!

Sure.

Just go on, pal, okay?

Where am l?

You're in Heaven, Eddie.

Isn't it wonde_ul?

Yes.

It's wonde_ul.

- Careful. You'll... - L'll what?

L'll fall?

L'll fall?

You're under arrest.

- Turn it up. - What?

Turn the sound up.

It's Joe Franklin.

- Nana. - L can't.

- L can't! - You must.

It's your turn.

You are really Iosing it, Mallard.

Do you have a vacuum cleaner?

- What? - Never mind.

It's so hard to find a good egg cream.

Face it, Debbie... eveything you love is on its way out.

That's what the 20th centuy's all about.

Want an egg cream?

Cheer up. That is pepperoni pizza.

What's this all about?

Rand and the girl are fuckin' you over, bud.

I can't figure the scam, but l'll tell you one thing...

You're taking it much too seriously.

Don't take this shit seriously.

She must be some kind of a girl.

She's dead.

That was her, Tim, in the pictures.

In all the pictures... Studio 54, St. Regis Roof...

city morgue... Same girl.

Hey, Eddie, look at me.

You are completely fucked up, and you know it.

You're bonkers, Edward.

You came here to tell me that?

You came here to tell me l'm bonkers?

I don't need you to tell me that.

I know l'm fucked up.

All l gotta do is look in the mirror!

I'm dating a ghost.

Now the normal people have come to put it all in perspective for me.

Give me a fuckin' break!

I just came by to see if you wanted an egg cream!

Her name is Rachel Carlyle Rand.

She's dead.

She's a corpse.

But, Eddie, sleeping with a dead woman...

There's no future in it.

Leave me alone.

All right, you tell me... What do you want to have happen?

I want her to leave me alone, but she won't.

I want to get away from her, but l won't.

She'll stay here,

or l'll follow her to the grave.

And if l don't tag along?

It may be a dream,

but it's one of those dreams you can't wake up from.

She said something about "As amul as it gets."

lt's going to get amul as anybody can imagine.

I believe that.

I believe her.

You know why?

Why?

Because the dead can't lie.

They can lead you into lies,

but they can't speak a lie with their own lips.

That's something l've learned.

You know where to find me when you need me.

Lfyou need me.

Eddie. Jesus!

I'm freezing with that door open.

- What kind of priest are you? - Russian Orthodox.

- Do you believe in angels? - Of course l do.

Do you believe in demons?

Demons also exist. Yes, they do.

Let's go sit down.

My name is Father Yorgi... Father George.

I'm not Russian by birth, but l speak Russian.

It's usually Russians who approach me on the street,

- but you're not Russian. - No, l'm not.

You're vey upset about something.

Do you believe the dead can come back from the grave?

I've heard of it happening,

but l don't have any experience with it myself.

See, a ghost can't walk on consecrated ground,

can't enter the door of a church,

so l'm not vey well placed for that sort of thing

if you see what l mean.

What if a man falls in love with a ghost?

Can a man sleep with a ghost?

I know there's a myth about it,

a folk tale which says if a man sleeps with a remnant...

That's a ghost... he dies of it.

Do you believe that?

Well, it makes a certain amount of sense,

but it may leave out a thing or two,

such as mercy, such as grace.

Also, no one seems to consider the ghost in these stories.

You see, a ghost may not be a demon.

It may just be lost and scared, like any other soul

in any other form.

It may not know how frightening it is

or how dangerous it is.

Is it true the dead can't lie?

"The dead can't lie."

My friend, telling lies is their business.

Hold me, Eddie.

Chilly out here.

Dance with me, Eddie.

I was dancing then, too, that night.

And l was drunk.

Charlie spent a fortune on this boat...

the party...

This dress cost more than you've ever made in a year, Eddie.

I felt like l made the best bargain anyone could ever make.

The best bargain in life.

I was flirting with eveybody.

I unhooked the chain here where they put the plank out,

and l held on and sort of swung out over the side.

I never learned how to swim. That's what made it exciting.

Not that exciting because l knew if l fell in,

someone would save me.

It was my party after all.

But they didn't jump in after me.

They iust looked.

I could see them.

They tried to turn the boat around.

I have your iewels.

Where are they?

That's not important. I can get 'em.

When?

Anytime you want 'em.

Tomorrow, in your office at noon,

in the light of day.

Not that it matters to you, but Tim and l are not an item.

We're friends. We were drunk.

It was all incredibly embarrassing.

It doesn't matter.

I was gonna learn to play the bagpipes.

Yeah?

Fuck you, too. I wish we were an item.

Don't do that.

When this guy answers the phone...

you read that.

Speak softly...

like a ghost.

Charlie? How have you _n sleeping?

- Who is this? - You know who this is.

The jewels you gave that shamus were paste.

That's not fair, Charlie.

You know l can fix it so you never sleep again, and l will.

I will, unless you bring me those _wels.

Bring them to me, Charlie, to where l am.

In the light of day, Charlie.

- There they are. - My jewels.

The ones Charlie gave me.

You can walk out of here with me. l'll go.

As amul as it gets, l'll go to Heaven or Hell...

I don't much care. But l won't go with that junk.

Don't be ridiculous. These aren't junk.

Baby, it's trash.

Let's get the hell out of here.

You really are stupid.

It's paste.

It's cheap paste!

Charlie suckered you just like he suckered me.

Is that supposed to come as some kind of surprise?

He's tying to make fools out of us both, Eddie.

Get away from me.

You bastard.

You fool. You don't even care!

What is that?

He thinks they're his jewels, the real ones,

the ones he locked up in his bank when he slipped that trash back to me.

But you didn't look at 'em, did you, Charlie?

You didn't check to see if l'd slipped some trash back to you.

Of course you didn't.

You didn't think l'd have the balls to stiff you.

You were playing me for a chump, Charlie.

That gave me room to maneuver.

Where are my iewels?

I gave the real ones to a friend of mine.

A priest.

He said he was gonna py out all the stones and set them into a chalice

or an icon frame, something like that.

Says you're welcome to come look at them anytime.

No, no!

Oh, yes, Charlie.

What are you doing? Where are you going?

Someplace hot, someplace with trees.

And l'm keeping your ten grand, Charlie... fees and expenses.

This was a tough case.

He's lying.

You okay?

Okay.

Give it up, Eddie.

Yeah, it's about time.

Where are we going anmay?

How far you think we can get on $1 O, OOO?

Let's find out.

That's the end of my Scotch, that's the end of my stoy.

Unless you wanna buy $1 million worth of useless junk.

That's what it cost me.

Danny boy, l gotta admit, that one takes the cake.

The son of a bitch sent me a postcard.

Yeah, l like the old black-and-white ones.

- You got a girlfriend or something? - Sure.

Give her a treat.

Thank you vey much.

The bastard stole my iewels!

Yeah? Well...

Eveybody's got a beef.

L'll have what he's having.

Scotch, single malt?

Hello, Charlie.

My iewels, Charlie.

How am l supposed to find 'em,

stuck all over a cup in the middle of some goddamn church?

That's not my problem, Charlie.

What's the matter, Charlie?

You look like you've just seen a ghost.