All language subtitles for Behind_Green_Lights(1946) Orig -engl-

Well come in, Miss Bradley.

I'll make sure those
negatives are in here too.

The Herald stands pretty well
on the police run, Johnny

so I don't think you'll have much difficulty
contacting the various departments.

These cops are good guys,
they don't get belly aches like you and me

so name them and give them a break
whenever you can.

They pay cops off with peanuts
the way they do newspapermen.

No! I want you to get it off
without breaking it!

Your wife can't steal your car,
that's community property,

Yeah, I know Chief,
but she done took it out of the community.

Come on, Johnny,
I want you to meet the lieutenant.

It's a good day.

What do you like to do?
Dance? Harry James?

Sure.
Yes, sir.

Why don't you turn on the radio
in one of your homes?

Fix yourselves some doughnuts, and
coffee and stuff.

Hanging out in a joint like the one
Carey pulled you out of

will buy you nothing but trouble.

Carey, see that these two girls get home,
will you?

Yes, sir.

Hiya, Sam. Hello, Oppenheimer.
Hi.

Meet Johnny Williams, The Herald's gift
to the Police Department.

This is Lieutenant Carson, Sargent
Oppenheimer. Hi, young fella.

It's sure nice to meet you guys.

You'll love them when you
get to know them better.

Johnny's fixing to clean up the department.
I thought you ought to look him over.

Oh, cut it out, Ames.

The Herald's a good paper, Johnny.
Just the best paper in town, lieutenant.

The Herald has ideals.
Only the truth is fit to print.

I wish I could say as much for that rag
of yours, Ames. Thanks, lieutenant.

It's your first day on
the police run, Johnny?

Yeah. Gosh, I hope I don't pull any boners.

You won't. Drop around and see me
any time you feel like it.

Maybe I'll come up with a scoop
one of these days...

just to keep Ames
and the rest of those pelicans in line.

That would be great, lieutenant.
I sure need one.

Come on, Johnny. Meet the rest of the gang.
Okay, I'll see you later.

Bye.
Bye.

It's a tough assignment for that nice kid.
It won't hurt him.

It won't do us any harm either.

I'm going down to Dutchman's for an
egg sandwich. I'll go along with you.

You're taking all day, come on, will ya?
What's the hurry?

Boys, meet Johnny Williams,
from The Herald. Hi, fellas.

See if there's any news for us, Sergeant...
Don't get up, gentlemen.

What is this, a gag?

It's Walter Bard. Runs a private detective
agency in the Equitable Building.

They picked a fine spot to dump him.

Looks like somebody is trying
to give the Department the business.

Get going, Oppenheimer.
Yeah.

Precious Saints alive!
It's Mr. Bard!

Do you know anything about this?
Not me, not me!

I just sell him flowers.

Take this in to the desk.
Right.

Hey, Sam!

What've you got?
What do you think?

Hey, Sam Carson's frisking a stiff on
the sidewalk in front of the station.

That's the name of the game.
Gin!

Don't forget you owe me two bits.

Check this gun with ballistics as soon as you can
then have the car gone over for fingerprints.

Say, who's... Hey, it's Walter Bard.
Dumped right in front of the station.

Couldn't get any closer.
Boy, there's gonna be a stink about this.

He was mixed up in politics, wasn't he?

He was mixed up in everything.

He's been asking for something like this
for a long time.

What's the matter, Johnny?
I never saw a dead man before.

Give me Charlie and make it snappy.

Hold on to your wig, Charlie.

Walter Bard, the private eye was just found shot to
death in his car right at the front door of the joint.

Evidently a definite slap at
the present administration.

You can call it a culmination of the
hoodlum war that's been going on.

Yeah. Say that it's gangland's despairing
reply to the vigilance of the police.

Huh? Sure, play it up big. Lay it on thick.

Everybody's gonna be taking potshots at
the administration over this little deal.

And the Express is its only friend.

Oppenheimer, go up to Bard's apartment. Bring back
any letters or photographs that might look hot.

See if you can get Bard's
wife on the phone.

Talk to the janitor, get a
line on any recent visitors.

Okay, lieutenant. Harper, you chase up to
Bard's office in the Equitable building.

Go through his desk and files. Check
his appointments calendar. Yes, sir.

Lieutenant, I just happened to think. Bard used to
hang out at Tony's on Second Street quite a lot.

Good idea. Say, Wilson...

Go over there and ask Tony if Bard met anyone there
tonight. Then give Oppenheimer a hand if he needs it.

Right.

Yes?
Mrs. Bard doesn't answer, lieutenant.

She's probably sleeping. Keep on trying.
Okay.

Hey, Dan.
Johnny, this is Daniel Boone Wintergreen.

He covers the police for The Sun.
Also has the Polar Sea on the side.

Meet Johnny Williams of The Herald.
Pleasure to meet you, my boy.

I can see that you'll be a welcome contrast
to the riffraff that infests this mortuary.

When are you going to get rid
of that moth-eaten trophy you got on?

Sir, this buffalo coat belonged to my
grandfather, Daniel Boone Wintergreen.

Noted Indian fighter.

Nothing would persuade me to part with it.
Except a temporary shortage of funds.

Are you in need of a good overcoat, Mr.
Williams? Hey, lay off him, Wintergreen.

On a hot day that coat gets higher
than the stockyards in the south wind.

Come in, Doc.

Well, here it is, Sam. The bullet went
clean through him, smashed the fifth rib.

Have your boys found it yet?
In the front seat upholstery.

Discharged from the gun
that was in the car?

Hm-hmm, his own.

There were plenty of powder burns, Sam.
Could have been suicide.

Not a chance, Doc. The boys at the
desk would've heard the shot.

The body was driven there in Bard's car
and left there.

I'm sure you're right, Sam.

You think somebody is trying to
discredit us and the administration?

Could be.

Holy mackerel!

That girl couldn't be
mixed up in this case.

Well, this is very interesting.

The daughter of Luther Bradley,
the reform candidate for mayor.

What The Express will do with this.

Send Brewer in.

Must be some other Bradley.
Somehow I don't think it is.

Why?
The famous Calvert luck, my boy.

Brewer, you and Robins go out to the
Luther Bradley house on Carlisle.

Ask for Miss Janet Bradley.

Tell her you'd appreciate it
if she'd come back with you.

We want to ask her a few questions.
Okay.

Handle her carefully. All we want is
her cooperation. Stress that, Brewer.

Yes?
Mrs. Bard still doesn't answer.

Keep trying.

Express? I want to speak with Mr. Calvert.
It's very important.

It's Dr. Yager talking.

Hello?
Yes, this is Calvert.

Oh, hello, Doc, what's on your mind?

Walter Bard? Sure I know him.

Who shot him?
I don't know.

But his body was found in his own car
right in front of the Police Station here.

That's right. The Police Station.

And get this, Mr. Calvert.

There was a notation in Bard's memorandum book that he
had an appointment with Janet Bradley this evening.

Luther Bradley's daughter?
Are you sure?

Oh, this is beautiful.

Look, Doc, you stay there
and keep your eyes open.

I'll keep in touch with you. Oh, I'll be right
here, Mr. Calvert. You can count on me.

Good bye.

This is Miss Bradley, lieutenant.
Lieutenant Carson.

How do you do?

Sorry we had to bring you out this
hour of the night, Miss Bradley.

Sit down, please.

What do you know about a
man named Walter Bard?

You knew him?

Knew him?

He was murdered this evening.

Oh...
In his own car, shot.

I found him about 11:45 in
front of this police station.

You did know him.
Yes, I knew him.

Seen him recently?

This evening. I had an appointment with him
at his apartment.

Were you a friend of his, Miss Bradley?

No. Suppose you tell me
why you went to see him.

I'm sorry, I can't.

Private?

That's not so good.

Is your father still in Washington?

Yes, he'll be back on Monday
in time for the election.

This murder could prove very embarrassing
for your father, Miss Bradley.

A dead body on your doorstep can prove very embarrassing
for the Department, too, Lieutenant Carson.

Maybe.

Do you mind very much if
we take your fingerprints?

Is that necessary? Well, it's a routine we
follow, but of course, if you'd rather not...

Very well.
Thank you. This way, please.

Now the right hand.

That's fine.

You can wipe off your hands with this.

Oh, thank you.

Is my photograph next, lieutenant?

Sittings by appointment only.

That's all there is to it.

Have these examined for me, Oppenheimer.

It will take a few minutes
to make comparisons.

You don't mind waiting.
Of course not.

Right in there.

You're being swell about this.

Yes?
Max Calvert to see you, lieutenant.

Send him in.
Why, thanks, Sam.

I just thought I'd drop in and say hello.

I figured you'd be around.

I don't wonder you're sore, Sam.

Someone giving the Police
Department the business, huh?

The administration, too.
The administration's your problem.

Aw, that's not the attitude to take, Sam.

Don't forget we've got an
election coming up next Tuesday.

I'm a policeman, not a politician.

I know, but a politician sometimes can
do an awful lot for a policeman, Sam.

I understand you got the
Bradley girl down here.

So you know all about that, huh? Well,
people usually cooperate with me, Sam.

She was with Bard this evening, wasn't she?

I'm not making any statements, and when I do The
Express will get it along with the other papers.

You're not letting a pretty face affect
your better judgment, are you, Sam?

I'm not letting that tabloid of yours split a girl's
reputation so you can stop Luther Bradley on Tuesday.

Why, the public has the right to know
the facts, The Express brings them.

Yeah, anything for a nickel.

Look, Sam...

How long have you had this job?
Long enough.

When you first came into this department I
was still on the police run for The Express.

Now I own it.

While we're looking around,
look at Mike Shea there.

Mike was your type of cop,
he never played ball.

So what did it get him? A
load of lead in the belly.

You ought to be smart, Sam.

Look, is Bradley anything to you?

No.

Well, Jordan's on his way out.

How'd you like to be Chief?

I'd like it. You know that, Calvert.

It could be arranged.
How?

If this Bradley girl were booked, it might
please some very important people very much.

And they might be willing
to do a lot for you.

There isn't a particle
of evidence against her.

No one would criticize you
if you booked her anyway.

On suspicion, or material
witness, anything you like.

Until after the election. Then let her go.

She'll be all right.

Do that and you'll have a grand jury
investigation right on your lap.

Aw, Sam, now don't look at it that way.

Why, a week after the election
the whole thing'll be completely forgotten.

Think it over.

Don't forget, Sam, it
always pays to cooperate.

Always pays.

Great guy, wasn't he, lieutenant?

Sure was. I guess he was just about
the greatest cop this city ever had.

Yeah, what did it get him?

Lieutenant, I got something to show you.

See you, William.

What did you find in Bard's apartment?

Cigarette butts in the ashtray with
two different shades of lipstick.

Two glasses with prints on both.

Prints on the gun, on one of the glasses,
and Miss Bradley's fingerprints. All check.

Looks like an open and
shut case, lieutenant.

Bring Miss Bradley in, sergeant.

The lieutenant would like
to see you, Miss Bradley.

All right, Oppenheimer.

Miss Bradley, we found your fingerprints
on a highball glass in Bard's apartment.

Oh, yes, he poured a drink for me but
I set it down without tasting it.

We also found your fingerprints on the gun
with which Bard was shot.

All right, I'll tell you
exactly what did happen.

I went to see Bard on behalf of someone
who is very close to me.

Someone whom he was trying to blackmail.

He made a business of buying and
selling information about people.

Especially about those who had built
honest lives after making a bad start.

Common people.

He had come to me with certain information.

He wanted $20,000 for it,
but I'd been able to raise only ten.

Well, come in, Miss Bradley.

Won't you sit down? I'll fix you a drink.
I really don't care for one, thank you...

I have some very nice Bourbon here.

Cigarette?

Thank you.

Well?

I simply haven't been able to
raise that much money, Mr. Bard.

How much have you raised?
Ten thousand.

I said twenty.
Well, that settles that.

Please, won't you give me a little more
time... Look, Miss Bradley, you're stalling.

You either haven't got the money
or you won't go to the one who has got it.

I'm holding a powerhouse. Newspaper
clippings, letters, affidavits, photographs.

Enough dynamite to blow
the lid a mile high.

And I've got a cash customer
who'll pay $20,000 in the morning.

I suppose it would be useless to appeal
to your sense of decency.

Oh, completely. You see, I haven't any.
Not since I put on long pants.

And I've been called all
the names, Miss Bradley.

I can believe that.
Well, I do know when a girl needs a drink.

Take it. You look shaky.

Now, give me that envelope.

You'll find them all there.
Don't move!

I'd rather enjoy putting
an end to your activities.

Stay where you are.

He was very much alive when
I left him, lieutenant.

Miss Bradley, do you expect me to believe that
chiseler let you take those papers away from him?

But I've told you the exact truth.

What happened to the gun?
I threw it in his car when I left.

What did you do with the envelope?
I burned it as soon as I got home.

What was in it?
I can't possibly tell you.

It must have been hard to borrow
that kind of dough for it.

Holding back now won't
do you any bit of good.

What was it about? Your father?

It's no use asking me.
What was in it?

Dirt Bard had dug up?
Something Calvert could use?

Let me help you.

You couldn't make a deal with him.
He said he'd take you home, it was raining.

You go down to his car.
He makes a pass at you.

You grabbed his gun, let him have
it and scrammed with the envelope.

The brakes in the car come loose
and the car starts rolling.

Lieutenant, you...

You sound as if you want to
believe I killed Walter Bard.

Your prints are on the gun! You
have motive, plenty of it.

What do you expect me to believe?

I guess it does look pretty bad.

What are you going to do with me?

I ought to book you.

You know what that will do
to my father on Tuesday.

I realize the pressure
you're under, lieutenant.

I've learned a great deal about the
Police Department from father.

Max Calvert could do a lot to help you
if you could learn to do things his way.

Leave Calvert out of this. I'm a policeman,
not a politician.

I'm glad. I've always liked policemen.

I should book you.
Otherwise, I can't hold you.

If you don't mind waiting a little
longer... something may turn up.

You mean you may see things a little
more clearly? Put it any way you like.

In here, please.

Hello, Doc. Anything new
on the Bard killing?

Well, he was shot with his own
gun that was found in the car.

We know all about that.

Yeah, but what you don't know is that Janet Bradley,
Luther's daughter, is mixed up in the case.

No kidding. That's right.
Carson has her downstairs now.

She had a date with Bard in
his apartment this evening.

Regular little mine of
information, aren't you, Doc?

I just thought the boys should know.

That's nice of you. Well I'm still running the night
shift around here and I'll give out the information.

The Express already has it,
I don't need to tell you how they got it.

You boys might as well have it, too.

Because Bradley is involved.
To what extent we don't know yet.

She was in Bard's apartment this evening but she
gives a perfectly logical reason for being there.

That's good enough for the front page. I'd go
slow on any insinuations if I were you, fellas.

Here's the latest dope on the Bard case.

Miss Janet Bradley, junior
league, active in everything...

Oh, yes, Mr. Jones, I'm
sticking right on the job.

I just wormed it out of the
lieutenant this minute.

Janet Bradley, daughter of the mayoralty candidate
is being questioned with regard to the Bard murder.

Yes, and you'll need those two tickets
for the Philharmonic...

You boys won't forget who gave you
the original tip. We won't forget.

Doctor G.F.Yager.

Now which one of you has taken my scissors?

I stuck them in your buffalo
coat for safekeeping.

If you mooches insist on playing tireless pranks with
my scissors, I'll be forced to do something drastic.

Well, it's about time.

I'm sorry, Mr. Calvert. I
didn't know you were here.

I hope you haven't been waiting long.
Long enough. Where have you been?

Oh, all over. It's been a very busy night.

Has Carson booked the Bradley girl yet?

Not yet. He's stalling, Mr. Calvert.

I don't trust Carson. He's never played
along with us the way he should.

Why, he just balled me out for tipping off the
press that he'd been questioning the girl.

I want her charged with murder and I want it spread
all over the front page of every paper in town.

The sooner the better.
Oh, thank you.

I'll save this for later.

I'm gonna give this murder the biggest
coverage any local paper's had in years.

I'll run the Bradley
girl's picture every day.

Diagrams of the street
where the body was found.

Diagrams of Bard's apartment.
Pictures of the murder car.

I'll have a sob sister covering her appearance
at the inquest. Every appearance in court.

I'll do a half column devoted to
her costume alone. How she looks.

With the inference that she's frightened, that she's
hiding something, that her back's against the wall.

Yes, but the only hitch, Mr. Calvert, is that
Walter Bard didn't die of a gunshot wound.

What did you say?
He was poisoned before he was shot.

Who did it?
I don't know.

You cut him open? I didn't have to. I
found traces of poison in his mouth.

Have you told Carson?

Not yet.
Well, don't.

The trouble is, if Carson ever takes a good look at the
body he'll notice there was practically no bleeding.

And he'll know what that means.

Then we got to get rid of the body.
Get it out of here fast, tonight.

Before the inquest? I can't.

You can and you're going to.

But Mr. Calvert, you can't just pick up
a body and drag it out of the morgue

before the Chief Medical
Examiner's had a whack at it.

Look, have you got any
John Does in the icebox?

One that you can ship out to
the crematorium in a hurry?

Well, there's a floater that we fished
out of the bay a couple of weeks ago.

All right. Now you go down to the morgue and
switch Walter Bard's body to the John Doe slab.

Then make out commitment papers
for John Doe. Cremation.

And ship it out tonight. But it's
sure to be found out sooner or later.

If you have to, make the
morgue attendant the fall guy.

If he squawks, send him to me, understand?

I'll do my best, Mr. Calvert. Your best
is to get that body out of here fast.

Yes?
Mrs. Bard on the wire now, lieutenant.

Hello?

Is this Mrs. Walter Bard?

Yes, this is Mrs. Bard.

You've been ringing for some
time, haven't you? I'm sorry.

I was sound asleep.

I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.

But that's impossible. He wasn't...
I'm afraid he was, Mrs. Bard.

We don't know yet.

I'll have to ask you to come down here. I know
it'll be difficult but you may be able to help us.

Of course, but I haven't seen Walter for several
weeks. We haven1t been living together.

Yes. As soon as I've dressed.

Yes?

Arthur, something dreadful has happened.
It's Walter.

Did the police say how it happened, Nora?
Or where?

No, Arthur, no.

But they've asked me to come
down to the station now.

Remember. You haven't been out all evening.

I'll go with you.
Certainly, I'm your lawyer.

Don't worry, darling.
Everything will be all right.

Yes, pick me up on your
way down to the station.

In about 20 minutes.

It won't take me long to dress.

Here's the lab report on the
lipstick and the cigarette stubs.

Any calls?
No, sir.

One of them is Janet Bradley's. The other's a
shade called Rochelle, used mostly by brunettes.

Mrs. Bard's here, lieutenant.
Oh, send her in.

Will you come in, please.

Sorry you had to come here tonight, Mrs.
Bard. I understand, lieutenant.

This is Mr. Templeton, my attorney.
Walter Bard and I were to be divorced.

I'm handling all of Mrs. Bard's business affairs.
So I asked Mr. Templeton to come with me.

Sit down, please.

You told Mrs. Bard very little
on the telephone, lieutenant.

Bard was shot through the heart.

We found his car parked in front
of this building, his body in it.

But that's fantastic.
Who did it?

We're not prepared to say it yet.

Mrs. Bard, I think you told me that you and
Bard hadn't lived together for quite some time.

Not for over a year.

Had you seen him recently?

I saw him in a nightclub several weeks ago.
I was with Mr. Templeton.

We want to be frank with you, lieutenant.

I hope you will be.

Nora and I are going to be married.
We've been waiting for a divorce from Bard.

Had the proceedings begun?

No. The papers were ready
but they hadn't been served yet.

Did Bard refuse to accept
service on these papers?

Repeatedly. He was my husband,
and even though he's dead...

Nora! I'm going to say it all, Arthur.
He was mean and cruel.

He liked to hurt people.
He did it deliberately.

I stood it for two years.

Mrs. Bard has had a very difficult
time, lieutenant. Yes, I know.

Mrs. Bard, you were home all evening?

Yes. I was asleep when you telephoned.

You weren't in Bard's apartment at any time
during the course of the evening?

Mrs. Bard has already answered that
question twice before, Carson.

I don't mind answering Lieutenant
Carson's questions at their time, Arthur.

I was not in Walter's apartment
this evening, lieutenant.

Were you?
No!

Thank you.

I suppose you know I'll have to ask Mrs.
Bard to identify the remains.

Naturally.

Oppenheimer, will you take care of that?
Yeah, sure.

This way, please.

Listen, pal. I didn't bust that mirror. Somebody
else tossed the bottle into the glassware.

Name?
I'm Zachary, the Philadelphia Phantom.

Never heard of you. What's your address?
You can't book me, topper.

I'm fighting at the Elks tonight.
The annual smokers, see?

I go on at one o'clock.

What's your address?

But what about the Elks?
You ain't gonna let the Elks down, are ya?

I'm an odd fellow. The address, Zachary.
You can't do it to me, pal.

It's my professional reputation.

The Benjamin Hotel, lieutenant.

Give the Phantom one of our private suites.
He'll see the judge in the morning.

But I gotta go on at one a.m.
I'll come back. Honest I will.

Take him away.
But...

I vote for Louis. He has the best beer.

What's the best dish in the joint?
The blonde behind the counter!

Here, that's all you need. Now get going.

Woodbury Crematoriums.
This one burns, huh?

Yep. Give him in easy ride.
It's his last one.

The stiff's gone.
Are you sure you had the hard one?

Gosh, Bill, I put him in there myself.

Let me use your phone.

Yeah, doc. The body must have walked
right out of the ambulance.

Well go back over your route.
Keep your eyes open and your trap shut.

If you can't find the body,
report to me as soon as you get here.

Well...

Hello.

What?

Oh, so somebody else wants Bard's body, eh?

That crew must be double-crossing you. They must
know how that body was taken out of the ambulance.

Well I don't believe it.
You make them cough up the truth.

I want to know who else wants that body.

Listen, Yager, this is a
pretty serious matter.

Both for the Administration and for the
Police Department, and incidentally for you!

But I did everything I could, Mr. Calvert.

Everything you asked me to.

You find that body and get rid of it.

Yes?

Sam, a John Doe that was being transported to the
Woodbury Crematorium has disappeared from the ambulance.

What do you mean disappeared?

The boys say that they loaded it into the
ambulance and when they got there it was gone.

Well, what am I supposed to do?
Pull your rabbits out of my hat?

The doors must have fallen open.

Tell Riley to send a patrol car
over the route the ambulance took.

I've already told the crew
to retrace their route.

Well find that body before
the papers find it for you.

Holy smokes!

Hello! This is Johnny Williams.

Let me speak to Mr. Jones, quick!

I'll call you right back.

You're new around here, ain't you?

What's your name? Williams, for
The Herald, and I'm pretty busy.

Sure you're busy. You
bricklayers is always busy.

Unless it's a bouquet you're wanting
on the cup until Saturday night.

And then it's Flossy, my darling, Flossy,
be a pal, and give us a kiss, Flossy.

But I'm on to your banana oil. Look, Flossy, I
gotta fill my paper. There's been a murder.

Sure there's been a murder. Didn't he get hisself
killed with one of me carnations in his buttonhole?

And owing me a dollar six bits.
Seven of them he died on me for.

That's a shame, Flossy.
But you'll get your money back.

And when I ask the cops for me due,
what do I get?

Birdseed.

I'll tell you what you do, Flossy.
You go down to the desk...

When all I want is me dollar six bits out
of the money he died in his pants with.

I've been to the desk. And what do I get?

Birdseed, sure. But this time you tell the lieutenant
that I sent you. Johnny Williams of The Herald.

Tell him to give you your dollar six bits
and The Herald will pay it.

Tell him I personally guarantee it.

Hello, give me Mr. Jones.

Wait.

Birdseed!

Hello. Mr. Jones?

Williams.

I got a lulu on that Walter Bard killing.

An exclusive! Yeah!

In the press room clothes closet

Hey, wait a minute.

Oh, I'll call you back, Mr. Jones.

Oh, where are my scissors?
I never seem to be able to find them.

Last time I found them
in my overcoat pocket.

Here they are, Mr. Wintergreen.

I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Wintergreen.

I wish people would leave
my scissors alone.

This time I'll nail them down.

Milk!

How many, you guys?

It's Mr. Rezinsky. Get a
bottle for me, will you?

Yeah.

Make it one for Wintergreen.

Hey, is Wintergreen up there?
Yeah, he's here.

Tell him I wanna buy his buffalo coat.
I'll be right up.

Hey, no dice. He doesn't want to sell.

I never heard of such impertinence.

As if I didn't have the right to dispose
of my own property.

Look, Mr. Wintergreen. You
can't sell that overcoat.

I hoped you'd bring a chastening
influence to this menagerie.

Why, it would be an insult to your grandfather.
And to the grand old name of Boone.

It would be unpatriotic.

I'm dreadfully disappointed
in you, Williams.

Why, that overcoat's made history.
It's practically a national monument.

You can't have a big lug like Rezinsky
delivering milk in it.

Why don't you get wise to what you've got?

That overcoat ought to be in
the Smithsonian Institute.

They'd pay real dough for it.

The Smithsonian?
Huh-huh.

But do you really think...

No, Williams, my mind is made up.

Let me out of here!
Let me out of here!

Give me Mr. Jones, quick!

Sure, Mr. Jones, that's what I said.

Walter Bard's body in the
pressroom clothes closet.

Hey, there's somebody in there.
I know it sounds crazy, Mr. Jones...

and I'm not drunk, it's true.

There's a guy in there, I tell you.
Listen to him holler his head off.

Yeah, and I'm the only one that knows it,
except Wintergreen and a guy named Spike.

Absolutely, Mr. Jones.

Oh, my... Oh, my...

Yes? Mr. Hagerty, city editor
of The Herald, lieutenant.

Right.

Hello, Hagerty.

What did you say?

In the pressroom? Here?

What?

As soon as I've nailed the
guy that sold you that one

I'll be over personally to tell you what
kind of a joint I'm running around here.

One of those tosspot
reporters phoned Hagerty

and said that Bard's body is hanging
in the pressroom clothes closet.

Say...

You don't think he was talking about
the John Doe that Yager lost.

There's only one way to find out.

That's what I said, you dope, all wrapped up in
somebody's overcoat in the pressroom closet.

My overcoat, please. Credit
where credit is due.

Hey, look, you guys. A perfect fit.

Hey, what goes on.

I found Bard all wrapped up in Wintergreen's
overcoat in the clothes closet.

The Herald's printing it so
relax, fellows, and save paper.

Hagerty was right. It is Bard.

Say, this guy didn't bleed much.

Did Yager say anything about that?

Not to me.

Have him taken back, sergeant.

Right away, lieutenant.

Mr. Jones again. Okay, you'll get
it, just keep your shirt on!

Lieutenant Carson's examining the body now.

Twenty years, lieutenant, I've been putting them
on ice and nobody's ever done this to me before.

Where was he?
In here.

Pull it out.

That's the John Doe we
fished out of the bay.

The one Doc Yager committed
tonight for cremation.

How did it get in there?
I don't know, lieutenant.

I put him in number 7 myself.
There's been a switch.

Here's Doc Yager now.
What's this all about, Sam?

It looks as if somebody went outside
as that John Doe you lost.

Only it wasn't John Doe,
it was Walter Bard.

John Doe is here in Bard's place.

Why, this is absurd, Sam.
A lot of things are tonight.

You signed a commitment paper, didn't you?
Yes, for John Doe.

Bard's body must have been
picked up by mistake.

That's the only way it could have happened.

Well, so long as it turned out all right.

O'Malley, get that John Doe out of here.

Put Bard back in the right place.

And see that he stays there until the chief
medical examiner is through with him.

Yes, sir.

Is this Mrs. Bard?

Hello, Mrs. Bard. This
is Ames at The Express.

The Express?

Oh, I haven't the slightest idea what
connection Miss Bradley has with the case.

Who is it?
Shhh!

In fact, I didn't even know she
was acquainted with my husband.

You're welcome.
What was it, Nora?

A reporter on The Express. The police have found out
Janet Bradley was in Walter's apartment tonight.

Arthur, we have to go to the Police Station
and tell them the truth.

No, we've got to sit tight. If we do we'd
never trust each other again, Arthur.

There'd always be that doubt.

It would grow and keep on growing.
In the end it would break us apart.

We'd distrust each other
for the rest of our lives.

At this moment, Arthur, there's
a voice inside me saying...

I'm not sure of him.

Do you really mean that, Nora?
Yes, I do.

And maybe there's a voice
inside you saying...

I'm not sure of her.

Don't you see how right I am, Arthur?
We couldn't live together like that.

You ought to be the lawyer, Nora.

We'll go down to Carson's office right now.

Darling.

Hello.

Yes.

I'd like somebody to come down here
and perform an autopsy.

Sure, I know I got Yager.
I want someone else.

Bard. For a very particular reason.

How about Doc Hastings?

As soon as you can get him down here.

I'll see Mrs. Bard now.

We've come to make certain alterations
in our statement, lieutenant.

Let's have it.

We told you we weren't at
Bard's apartment this evening.

Well, we were. Nora was there when
Bard died. I was there later.

Go on.

I didn't tell Arthur I was going.

But I went to ask Walter once
more to give me a divorce.

There's no use being angry with me, Nora.

Take off your things and stay a while.

Have a drink? It's a rainy evening.

That's finished, Walter. I'm in love with
Arthur Templeton. We want to get married.

So you can make it legitimate, eh?
You've no right to say that.

You have absolutely no grounds whatsoever.

Perhaps. But I'm not going to turn you loose
so Templeton can put you on his income tax.

Besides, this arrangement suits me fine.

So long as I'm married, no woman
can make a sucker out of me.

But Walter, I...

Don't worry. Go into the bedroom.

I'll talk with you as soon as
I'm through with this party.

Well, well, come in, Miss Bradley.

Did you listen?
I heard a little.

Walter seemed to have some papers
Miss Bradley wanted to buy.

But he was holding out for more money.

And then?
Then there was some kind of scuffle.

I don't know what happened.
Then Miss Bradley demanded the papers.

I got the impression she was
copping Walter with a gun.

Then a door slammed.
Yes?

I waited a few minutes then I went in.

Walter had just taken a drink.

He took a step toward me.

I'll never forget the way he looked.

The muscles of his face were all drawn up,
as if they were knotted.

Then he fell into a chair.
When I got to him he was dead.

I was terrified. I rushed out of the place.

Why didn't you call the police?
I was afraid to.

Did you take a drink with Bard?
No.

Do you remember if Bard's gun
was still in the holster?

I'm sure it wasn't. But I do remember
seeing it there when I first went in.

Then who shot Bard?

I shot Bard.

I went to see Bard for the
same reason Nora did.

I thought perhaps I could get him to
change his mind about the divorce.

I'd just pulled up at the curb opposite
his apartment house.

The door opened, Nora came running out.
She looked frightened.

Before I could get around to calling her she
had jumped into her car and started off.

I noticed that the car in front
of the apartment was Bard's.

I'd asked her to never go
to Bard's apartment again.

The more I thought about Nora's
being there, the less I liked it.

The notion that Bard's callousness had
driven Nora to killing him took hold of me.

That would be murder.

It looked like poison to me.

All I could think of was that Nora
might be traced to the apartment.

There was only one thing to do.
Get the body out of the place.

I knew the risk I was
running, but I had to do it.

Someone was coming up.

I didn't dare go back and wait.

I'd have to carry him down.

I was taking a big chance,
but it was late and luck was with me.

No one saw me.

Then I saw the gun.

If I could fake a suicide,
Nora's fingerprints wouldn't be on the gun.

It would swing suspicions away from her.

I held the gun close to
him to muffle the shot.

It occurred to me then if Bard's body was found
as far as possible from his apartment house...

Nora's danger would be still less.

I released the brake...

and started the car rolling down the hill
away from the apartment house.

And that's our story. Nora's and mine.

Templeton, do you believe Mrs.
Bard's story?

Yes, I do.

And you believe his?
Of course I do.

You really came down here to convince each other
that you were each telling the truth, didn't you?

Partly. We had to speak with
Janet Bradley, too, lieutenant.

I'll need a detailed statement
from both of you later.

Certainly, lieutenant.
You can wait in the outer office.

I'm sorry, Flossy,
but you'll have to see Lieutenant Carson.

See the lieutenant, he says.

A dollar six bits! That stiff died owing me
and he tells me to see the lieutenant.

Listen...

I will see the lieutenant, and the chief and
the mayor, and the governor if I have to.

I'll have my dollar six bits
if I have to see the...

President himself.
Sure, Flossy, sure.

You're right. I don't blame you a bit.

Okay, Malloy.

Birdseed!

What have you got?

Smoke?
No, thanks.

We've turned up some new evidence.

Does it help me?

No.

Oh.

What is it?
Bard didn't die of a gunshot.

He was poisoned.
Really?

Someone slipped the stuff
in his whiskey decanter.

Oh, wait a minute.

You don't think I put the
poison in his decanter.

Why didn't you drink your highball?

Well, I... I didn't want it.

How do you think that will sound in court?

Any way you want it to sound, I suppose.

Are you going to book me?

If you could give just one
solid reason why I shouldn't.

I'm sorry for you, Lieutenant Carson.
I'm in a bad spot, but so are you.

You have to decide whether I'm guilty
because I really am guilty

or because I'm Luther Bradley's daughter.

If you book me now, you'll never be sure whether you
did it because you really believe I killed Walter Bard

or because Max Calvert told you to.

That's one of the things I'm trying
to get straight in my mind.

If Calvert wasn't turning on the heat,

and another reason...

it would have been easy.
I 'd have booked you but fast.

What other reason?

It wouldn't make sense to
you or to anyone else.

In my kind of job, your reasons
have got to make sense.

I suppose so.

And that means?

I'll have to book you the way things stand.

Yes, sir.

Is that nutty woman that sells flowers
still in the building?

In the building? She's
practically in my lap.

But don't worry, lieutenant,
I'll get rid of her.

Don't get rid of her. I want to see her.
Send her in.

Then see if you can locate Oppenheimer.

Okay, lieutenant.

All right, Flossy, the
lieutenant will see you now.

Maybe now I'll get me dollar six bits.

Sit down, darling.
None of that!

All I want is the money that stiff owes me.

You mean Bard? He must have died with
some assets in his pants, lieutenant.

Don't worry about that. You'll
get your dollar six bits.

Tell me. Did you sell this to Bard?

Sure I did.
When?

Six o'clock this evening. Just as he was
coming out of Simmy's bail bond office.

Didn't he pay you for it?
He did not! He never pays you.

You've always got to chase him. Up to the present
moment that slicker owes me a dollar six bits.

Did you see him after that?

I went to his apartment to
collect but I didn't see him.

He must have been out to dinner.
So I stuck around.

Did you see anyone else
while you were up there?

Nobody but Doctor Yager.
Do I get my money or don't I?

Yager? He was up there?

Bard was out to the both of us.
What time was this?

Oh, I don't know. Half past eight, maybe.

I knocked on Bard's door and
he didn't answer, so...

I stuck around in the corridor.

It was raining out and I was wet to
me pelt. Then Doctor Yager came in.

Did Yager see you? No, he never see
me, but he was there. You ask him.

Tell me about Yager. What happened?

I was drying myself at the radiator
on the stairway landing.

I was down half a flight,
so he didn't see me

Never seen a man so scared.

The way he kept looking around.

He could hardly find the keyhole,
his hand was shaking so.

I don't know how many keys he tried
before he got the one that fitted.

He shut the door behind him so quiet
I could hardly hear it.

He couldn't have been in there more than a minute and
he still acted like he was scared of his own shadow.

He never seen me, but he was there.
You ask him.

Doc, come in to my office again, will you?

Okay. And now, do I get my
financial reimbursement?

There you are.

You can always tell a gentleman by the way
he treats a lady.

Just a minute.

I want you to wait in here.

Come in, Doc.

You don't look well, Doc. Sit down.
Oh, I'm all right.

Tired, that's all.

Too much night work, I guess.
I'm not as young as I was.

What's up, Sam?

Bard's death is a lucky break
for you, isn't it, Doc?

I don't get you. This malpractice
case the grand jury's got on you.

Bard did some investigating with the
medical association, didn't he?

Oh, he's got nothing on me.

I wonder what happened to
the evidence he dug up.

It isn't in either his apartment or his
office. Because there never was any.

I heard different.

Funny how it disappeared, isn't it, Doc?

Oh, you're not insinuating that I...
That you got a hold of it?

Yes, I am, Doc.

Why, that's ridiculous. I haven't been out
of the building since the body was found.

Maybe you were out before it was found.

I was not.

You weren't in Bard's apartment
earlier this evening?

Certainly not.
Around about 8:30?

No.

Suppose I told you you were seen going into
Bard's apartment with one of your keys?

You stayed there a few minutes then left
locking the door after you.

Whoever said that's a liar!

Who's calling me a liar? It's
yourself that's the liar.

I seen you asneaking into the poor murdered
boy's apartment and sneaking out again.

With the mark of Cain all over your face.

That's how the poison
got in Bard's whiskey!

Help! Help!

Help, help!

Police! Police!

Oppenheimer!

There he is! Stop him!

Take him away.
All right, come on!

Thanks. Who are you?

I'm Zachary.
Hey, that's the guy who broke jail.

Yeah, the Philadelphia Phantom. I won
my fight by a knockout so now I'm back.

You got back just in time.

Well, I guess that sort
of washed things up, eh?

Not exactly. You're still under arrest.

Well, if that ain't gratitude.

Don't worry, Zachary, I'll be in you corner
when your case comes up.

Thanks, pal.

You can count on both of us. I think
Yager's confession will be sufficient.

Much obliged, lieutenant. There's still a
misdemeanor charge against you, Mr. Templeton.

But I don't think it will interfere
with your wedding plans.

You're invited to our wedding, lieutenant.
Fine, I'll be there.

To kiss the bride.

Good luck to both of you.
Thank you.

Now why couldn't something like
that happen to me? Why couldn't it?

Oh, nobody loves a copper.
Why don't you ask her?

Ask her? Ask who?

What?

Yeah, ask her out to breakfast.
She oughta be pretty hungry by now.

You're nuts.
It's been done.

After the going over I gave her?
I still say it's been done.

Maybe you got something there.

You're free to go now.

We have the confession of a Doctor Yager.

Oh...
I'm glad you didn't touch that drink.

So am I.

I've just had the pleasure of
telephoning Max Calvert...

and informing him that his
stooge murdered Walter Bard.

Which, of course, ruins his
front page on Janet Bradley.

And that's about all.

Unless you want to tell me
what you took away from Bard.

Between ourselves, of course.

I feel I can tell you now.

I didn't trust you before.
You didn't seem to be yourself, but...

now you do.

Thanks. It's quite a story.

Suppose I tell you about it some evening?

Soon.

Suppose you do.

Thank you.

Yes, the lieutenant was very complimentary,
Mr. Jones.

He said if I hadn't found the body in the clothes
closet, the case might never have been solved.

Hey, fellas, look at this!

I'll call you back.