Original subtitles

You really think

that story's going to get to the Mafia, huh?

I'll tell you tomorrow

after the bombs are planted in your car.

(ticker tape clicking)

What about this item?

Yeah.

The old man really had me fooled for a long time.

Miniver may be a country politician, my boy,

who worked his way up to the state senate,

but he really knows how to take

a fast buck out of the public purse.

I wish you'd check this sort of thing with me.

I'm paid for legal advice, not for polishing white armor.

It's in the finest tradition of the press.

It's also a fine libel suit if you can't back up every word.

You worry too much.

Hello. This is Boswell.

Is he in?

Just a moment, please.

It's Mr. Boswell, Mr. Abernathy.

It's Boswell.

Yeah.

Honey, uh, could you please

go type some letters or something?

Sid, don't leave the man hanging on the telephone.

Talk to him.

Hello, Homer.

Listen, that story you gave me on Miniver

is going to hit the streets in about 15 minutes.

I just want to make sure we have the proof

to back up the senator's hanky-panky.

Tell him to hold on a minute.

Just a minute.

You're not actually letting that story out

without the proof in your hand?

Lowell, I know the source.

It's 100% reliable.

Nobody's that reliable.

One slip-up and you'll have a lawsuit against you

that'll put you on a street corner peddling pencils.

Now, who's the source?

It's privileged.

Oh.

You hear that?

I have a very nervous lawyer over here.

I'd like to calm him down.

When am I going to get that material?

Uh...

He wants the material.

You know what to say,

and you know what's going to happen if you don't say it.

Now, come on, talk to him.

Homer, there's been a slight hang-up,

but it's all ironed out now.

As a matter of fact,

the messenger is on his way over to you with the proof.

Well, that's good enough for me.

At least we'll get the story out in time

to stop Senator Miniver's legislation, right?

Right, Homer.

You can depend on it.

Come on, Sid-o.

Cheer up.

Gloria would hate to tell

that old embezzlement story about you.

Now she don't have to.

If your informant isn't totally reliable,

you and this newspaper are finished.

See you later.

Edna?

Get your things packed, kid, we're leaving.

Where?

I want to put lots of miles

between me and this place fast.

(theme music playing)

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MAN: Mannix?

I'm the manager, Western area.

How are you, Traynor?

I expected you to report to my office.

Well, I wanted to check out a few things on the case first.

Say, who's this Daniel Turpin?

He's a lobbyist.

We're late.

Come on, Mr. Boswell is expecting you.

Uh, Boswell can wait.

He's the client,

and his attorney who's representing...

Yeah, I read your reports on the client.

He's a 605.

You were assigned to this office.

Now this case... I'd like to talk to Dan Turpin.

Where can I find him?

Mannix, you don't just walk in

on Dan Turpin.

(grunting)

(grunts)

All right, Turpin, let's take it from the top

now that the "no" vote has been eliminated.

Y-You've got, you've got no right to...

No argument.

I got no right bothering you with a lot of questions.

You made your point, now answer the questions.

Well, sure, I know Senator Miniver.

I--

Could I get some milk, please?

When I'm nervous, my stomach...

Go ahead.

No, thanks.

I know two dozen senators,

as many newspapermen, Boswell included.

I know 30 members of the Assembly.

That's my business.

You've done Miniver a lot of favors,

like that tip on the Vanco and Company stock.

Oh, stop your shaking.

I'm not the State Investigating Committee.

I want to know if Miniver's got his hand out

for small gifts.

On my mother's grave, I swear I don't know.

Miniver likes money but doesn't like Boswell.

Would he plant a phony item on himself

so he could sue Boswell and collect a million dollars?

Would he tell me, practically a casual friend,

an intimate thing like that?

You're not being very helpful.

If you knew what was going on inside my stomach,

you'd know how hard I'm trying.

Just for your stomach,

who'd be in the best position to plant a phony item with Boswell,

one that he'd believe and use?

In this town, the milkman moonlights peddling rumors.

Who'd tip Homer?

Go in any building, get off on any floor,

open any door, and you'll be looking at a guy

that'll swear on his mother's grave

that he has inside information.

Cut it to informants Boswell would trust.

I don't know why I drink it; it doesn't do any good.

Who would he trust?

Chuck Taylor, Sid Abernathy, probably Phil Reilly.

Now, please,

let me enjoy my stomach ache in peace and quiet.

I can't work in the dark.

I need information.

You're paid to collect information.

If you can't prove that the story Homer printed is true,

we've no defense against the libel suit.

I also don't like your bothering Dan Turpin.

He's not involved in this.

Now, you're being paid to prove the senator's guilty,

not to intimidate innocent people.

If Dan Turpin is innocent,

why didn't he call the police and have me arrested?

Because he's a friend of mine.

He called me, he thought you were carrying out my orders.

If this job is too tough, just say so.

Tough, I don't mind, but you're making it impossible.

The report from the local office reads,

"Client: Homer Boswell, 605."

That's code for uncooperative.

Uncooperative?

Gentlemen, please.

You're calling me uncooperative

because I refuse to reveal the name of my informant?

It's a man I know very well, a man I trust.

I told him he would be kept out of this.

Maybe you'd better keep me out of it.

Get yourself another boy.

Mr. Mannix, please.

You're being unreasonable, Homer.

You were promised evidence would be delivered--

it never was.

You admit you can't reach your informant.

Well, why has he disappeared?

How do I know?

What am I supposed to do, just sell him down the river

because he doesn't answer the telephone?

Oh, that's beautiful.

A million-dollar lawsuit can be won or lost

depending on whether or not some fly-by-night is trustworthy.

Well, understand Boswell's position.

If word gets out that he reveals his sources,

he might as well fold his tent and slip away in the night.

Well, he'd better reveal his sources,

or he won't have a tent to fold.

He's got no libel insurance.

(phone rings) That'll be your call.

Yeah, Lou?

Boswell wants me to assign half a dozen agents to help you.

Help me what, uh, argue with the client?

I told him you worked alone.

Look, Lou, I want off this case.

What he needs is a mind reader, not a detective.

Look, Joe, as a favor, please stay with it.

Now, Boswell's stubborn, he can be unreasonable,

but he's also quite a guy-- he puts out a paper

the way it should be done, the kind we need.

I don't mind applauding him, just working for him.

Well, look, do what you can-- he's worth it.

Now, what gives?

Well, uh, Boswell's attorney leans toward the theory

that somebody would profit by the defeat of Miniver's bill,

which died the minute the paper hit the streets.

Any alternative?

There's always the syndicate.

They're out to get Boswell.

Well, you're the detective-- what do you think?

I think I'll go to lunch.

(line clicks)

Thank you.

(phone ringing)

(music box playing "Beautiful Dreamer")

Oh, it's lovely!

It's perfectly lovely!

Well, thank you.

Slovakian?

Y-You know about music boxes?

I've been collecting them for years.

My boss, Senator Miniver,

says if I bring any in the office, he'll fire me.

But he doesn't mean it.

Well, nobody could not like music boxes.

(music box playing melody)

I keep sesame seeds in this for a 4:00 energy pickup.

You know, I'm, uh, I'm saving my money

to buy a hand-carved dancing couple.

It was made in the Black Forest

around the turn of the century.

Of course, it isn't signed, but they say it's authentic.

Should be here in a few days.

Oh, I'd love to see it!

Well, I'd be happy to show it to you.

By the way, I'm Joe Mannix.

Muriel Pochek.

Missus.

A long time ago, but I'm still entitled

to the label.

Do you have a large collection?

Well, I have, uh, let me see,

uh, 25... no, 26 with this one.

Well, I have over 50.

Say, would you like to come and see them?

Oh, well, I sure would.

Could I?

What good's a collection

if you can't show off and brag to another collector?

Are you free tonight?

Oh, yes, yes.

Well, I'm at the Dumont Arms.

Anytime after 8:00.

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(whirring)

I've got Chuck Taylor and Phil Reilly under surveillance.

Abernathy seems to be out of town.

We're assembling the data on all these three men.

We should have all of it by early this evening.

If you want to see the preliminary, I can, uh...

Uh, no, no, I'll wait for the main event.

Look, would you check out this license number.

It's a green sedan.

Well, now wait.

I've got all of Boswell's exposes for you to read,

particularly those on organized crime.

We've also got Miniver's background.

If you wait, I'll put them on printout.

Oh, that's good work.

Don't you want to see it? Well, not really.

You see, I came in the front way

to go out the back way and lose a tail.

I, uh, have a date tonight

and I'd like to be alone.

(buzzer)

You'd be Mr. Mannix, I presume.

And, uh,

you, of course, are Senator Miniver.

Mmm, come in.

Hmm, health foods.

That should reinforce the impression on Muriel.

Oh, she's not here.

We're quite alone.

I'm afraid, I don't understand.

My secretary, Mr. Mannix,

returned from lunch floating on a gossamer cloud.

Normally an excellent typist,

she committed blunders inexcusable

in a one-fingered chimpanzee.

When called to account,

she babbled about a handsome, young man

who was an expert on music boxes.

Therefore, I asked myself:

How many handsome young men collect music boxes

and strike up an acquaintance with my Mrs. Pochek?

Is there anything wrong

in collecting music boxes?

In a city where women outnumber men three to one,

I can think of more probable hobbies

for someone like you.

(soft music box playing) No, Mr. Mannix.

I think you're employed by Mr. Boswell

in the hope of discovering my secret vices,

something to make me withdraw my law suit.

Well, do you, uh, have secret vices, Senator?

My hands are clean.

My life, public and private,

immaculate.

If they're not,

a million dollars would buy an awful lot of soap.

Mr. Boswell caused me personal suffering

and an important piece of legislation was killed.

That "important piece of legislation"

was a minor dam set so far back in the mountains

that it would be lost the minute it was built.

Your client accused me

of standing to gain a fortune

from the ownership of stock in a company controlling land

around that dam site.

Three months ago, I divested myself

of all that ownership and gave the stock to charity.

If public vindication is all you're looking for,

a written retraction would take care of that.

Give me one reason for making things easy for Mr. Boswell.

I can give you a reason why you shouldn't.

You're up for reelection soon.

You'd like to start improving your image.

Hiring a public relations outfit,

on a state senator's pay, isn't easy.

Of course, a million dollars...

You're implying I hope to capitalize on the opportunity.

Or the opportunity was deliberately manufactured.

You could have planted that item yourself.

Put your hands up.

(cocking gun)

Please, stand very still and put your hands up,

because I'm quite nervous and, uh,

I've had no experience with guns.

I told you I was nervous,

so please stand very still.

Lady, if I stand any stiller, rigor mortis sets in.

Oh.

Well, I-I'm Edna Dacey,

Mr. Abernathy's private secretary.

Who are you?

Mannix. I'm with Intertect.

I'm looking for your boss.

Somebody did a thorough job.

Yeah, I see.

Any idea what's missing?

Besides your boss, that is?

Oh, he's not missing.

He phoned. He told me to close up the office.

He's away for a month.

Yeah, where?

He didn't say.

Hmm.

Well, now, somebody wants something.

Have any idea what it might be?

No.

There's nothing in our files worth stealing.

Hmm. You see something?

It's what I don't see.

There are four pages missing from this book.

I guess they got what they came after.

I wonder if they left with it?

What would you say

if I suggested searching that bag?

I'd say you don't have a very trusting nature.

It's part of the job, Edna.

It's a proving ground for cynics.

Be my guest.

Thanks.

Suppose I told you I'd hidden it

in a secret compartment in my garter belt.

Don't tempt me.

Yeah, well, uh,

uh, tell me...

would a nice thick steak and a vintage bottle of burgundy

help restore your faith in me?

It might, only, uh...

A sick aunt?

Uncle.

Uncle.

Yeah, well,

this has not been one of my better days.

Oh.

Klamath 54906?

Mm-hmm.

Call before noon.

(car tires screeching)

(crashing)

You know, I have the whole office gathering information

which you won't bother to look at,

but at 3:00 in the morning,

you want to know whether Abernathy's gone fishing!

Yeah, well, the fresh water fishing season just opened,

and, uh, judging by Abernathy's office,

he couldn't pass a gold fish bowl

without throwing in a line.

Do you know how many lakes,

how many streams and reservoirs there are

within a hundred-mile radius of here?

Wherever Abernathy is,

he's probably cashing checks, or using a credit card.

Or spending cash.

Well, we've got to hope it's not cash.

Anyway, why don't you get a list

of all of the cancelled checks from Abernathy's bank;

where and by whom they were cashed.

And do the same thing

with all the credit card agencies.

Aren't you overlooking a fourth possibility?

What's that?

That Abernathy's dead.

(phone rings)

Traynor here.

Yeah.

That number you got from the girl at Abernathy's...

Yeah? N.G.

Mr. Wickersham's coming on the line.

Yeah, Lou.

Boswell called me.

The news of the libel suit hit the fan.

The paper may shut down.

Yeah, well, whoever set Boswell up has done a pretty good job.

They'll destroy him unless we can prove Miniver's on the take.

Joe, I'm not telling you how to work on the case,

I'm not putting pressure on you...

You're also not telling me some bad news.

Let's hear it, Lou.

Boswell is a big man.

He's asked me to help. I can't refuse.

Well, uh,

if this town is big enough

for the Republicans and the Democrats,

I guess there's no reason why you and I can't share it.

I've got copies of all reports.

I'll read them on the plane.

Yeah, well, uh, just to keep Traynor happy,

somebody ought to read them.

Do what you can on that Abernathy thing.

I'll phone in.

Oh, the green sedan, huh?

Well, there's nothing

like a nice early morning ride in the country.

Mrs. Dover?

(dog barking in distance)

You want free air, free water or free battery service?

No, I, uh... Well, you sure don't want gas, or you wouldn't park there.

You are Mrs. Dover? Yep.

You have a car registered to you, a green sedan.

Henry?

You trying to sell me insurance?

Process server?

That car could've been in an accident.

Henry don't like process servers.

And when Henry don't like somebody, he swings a mean ax.

Um, no, actually, I'm not selling, I'm buying.

What and for how much?

Information. $20?

Henry don't like sharp traders.

Who was driving that green sedan last night?

Well...

What has he ever done for me?

Does he care?

My own son, he wouldn't lift a finger.

That lazy, no-good Cornwall, that's who took the car.

Took off a week ago-- not a word.

Did he leave a forwarding address?

To forward what, his comic books?

What about, uh, friends or business associates?

Business associates?

Run around all night and sleep all day--

that's a business?

And his friends I wouldn't know about.

They all look alike to me.

Long hair and dirty fingernails.

Mrs. Dover, uh, is there anyone who might help me find him?

Well, Cornwall's girlfriend, Gloria Turnbull.

She might know. Where could I find her?

I wouldn't know.

I, uh, I got a picture of her inside.

I could let you have that

if it'd help any. Couldn't hurt.

Henry.

Of course, um...

it's in an awful expensive frame.

Oh, well, naturally, I figured it would be.

There you are.

That...

is Gloria Turnbull?

That's Cornwall there on the right.

Yeah, thanks.

Uh, mind if I use your phone? Go ahead.

I got no stock in the phone company.

(coins clinking)

Yeah, Mannix, here.

Get me Traynor.

Traynor, listen,

I want a rundown on a girl named Gloria Turnbull.

Gloria Turnbull?

Right. Hang on.

(keyboard keys clicking)

Suzanne?

Gloria Turnbull-- dig up everything available on her.

Now, I've got something for you.

You wanted Abernathy?

That credit card angle of yours was inspired.

We've located him for you.

� �

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Hey, mister!

What's going on?

Hey, mister!

Wait!

Hey!

Hey, mister.

Hey, mister, wait!

You can't take that boat!

(engine starting)

Hey, mister!

Come on back with that boat!

It's not for free!

Come on back here!

Come on back with that boat!

Come on back!

(engine humming loudly)

(engine purring quietly)

(reel whirring)

(loud boat engine revving)

(gunshot)

(gunshots)

(engine sputtering)

(gunshot)

(gun chamber cocking)

(engine revving)

Sid was like a brother to me.

He got me my first newspaper job.

He's my son's godfather.

He might be alive if you'd told us his name.

Homer, face it-- Abernathy deliberately set you up.

He did not deliberately set me up.

Not Sid.

Okay, not Sid.

Who?

What about the girl that claimed she was Sid's secretary, what about her?

We have a computer check on her.

She was Abernathy's ex-wife.

Divorced seven years ago.

No criminal record.

Then why don't you dig into Miniver?

He's going to win a million dollars in this libel suit.

That seems like a very good reason to me.

Mr. Boswell, you edit an excellent paper.

You've had training and experience.

What are your qualifications as a detective?

Thank you, Chris.

Well, there's nothing here.

Here are copies for you.

As you'll notice,

there were no large deposits

in Abernathy's bank account prior to, uh...

Wait a minute.

That's interesting.

I'll see you later.

Mm-hmm.

Office supplies, car rentals, liquor--

what's the matter, is that the first time

Mr. Mannix has ever seen a monthly expense report?

He saw something else.

Like what? There's not one item on here

that couldn't be duplicated in a thousand different...

Mr. Boswell, please stay out of detective work.

This.

$200, publications, Fleetway Messenger Service.

I spend several hundred dollars a month on publications.

It's the only way you can keep up with what's going on.

All right.

You pay a newsstand, a magazine, or a book store.

Have you ever ordered publications

from a messenger service?

Who is it?

MANNIX: Fleetway Messenger.

Who do you want?

Cornwall Dover.

Ow! My back!

You lose-- Scout's honor.

What do you want?

Right now, I'll settle for

how, why and by whom Boswell was framed.

Dig him-- a dreamer.

You know, that libel case won't come to trial for two years.

That ought to give me a lot of time to get you to cooperate.

I don't really need this.

It just saves me the trouble of proving that I don't.

Oh, wait a minute.

I'm a good loser, really.

Easy come, easy go.

Only I haven't got the big word to give you what you want.

Sounds like the beginning of a proposition.

What's the rest?

I gotta make a phone call.

Uh, really.

You can hear what I say, okay?

It's a private number.

(phone dialing)

(loud rattling)

Hello, Gloria?

It's me.

Hey, look I got Mannix here.

Well, I haven't exactly got him.

Anyway, he's here and he wants the stuff

and I'd kind of like to give it to him.

She say ten grand.

Deal... after I see that I'm getting what I paid for.

No. She's saying no, definitely no.

How do I know I'm not going to get an envelope

full of old comic books?

Come on.

Gloria.

Sorry to hang you up, but we're haggling.

She say, "Don't haggle."

All right, deal.

We'll use the Fleetway Messenger Service.

One messenger will pick up the money from us,

another will pick up the information from you.

We'll arrange for them to meet some place

where we can both be protected.

Okay, okay.

Gloria, have the stuff ready at 3:00.

A messenger from Fleetway will pick it up

where you and me met yesterday.

Bye-bye.

Okay.

Go, man, go!

Get that beautiful ten grand.

No, no chance.

You don't get out of my sight

until after the deal's closed at 3:00.

Give me that phone.

Oh, man, you're really nowhere, you know that!

Selling Abernathy old comic books

at a hundred or two a pop--

that's a pretty cheesy cover up for blackmail.

What do you mean, blackmail?

He was a collector of comic books.

It's a big thing, really.

Come on. (phone dialing)

Abernathy wouldn't know an old comic book

unless it had fins and a tail.

His ex-wife got something on him?

Yeah, Mannix here. Get me Wickersham.

You can't prove a thing.

I'm not going to try, if you're a nice boy.

Lew, I'm going to need

ten grand-- just charge it to account 714.

A messenger will pick up the money from us

and deliver the information that will clear Boswell.

Yeah, and after they deliver that call me at Klondike 5-6237.

Oh, and I'd like to check out another phone number,

but I only got the first four digits by the clicks.

It got a little noisy after that.

Yeah, the first four digits are 5553.

Yeah, well, I know there are

a thousand possible numbers left, Lew.

But I have the greatest confidence in those expensive computers.

Be philosophical, Lew, just think of what

your electrical bill would have been

if I'd only got the first three digits.

(click)

On the telephone numbers Mannix requested,

if a telephone number is listed under a company name,

I want a rundown on personnel employed.

Yes, sir.

Of course, that means a lot of hard work

and a very slim chance.

Can you think of any reason for hiring a detective

if there would be no work

and the chance of solution excellent?

No, sir.

As per your 714 code request,

here are the serial numbers requested by Mannix.

Thank you.

I'm surprised we could get those papers for $10,000.

It's shocking.

It's in a class all by itself.

These are lies.

Senator, do you deny that $20,000

was deposited in a Swiss bank account in your name?

Of course I deny it!

What about this report?

What about these photostats of the checks made out to you?

This isn't graft-- this is downright thievery.

Senator, can you offer any explanation?

I can say to you, sir,

I have at all times acted honorably.

I don't expect belief.

In your position, I wouldn't believe either.

Homer...

you have known me since you first came to this town.

We've disagreed more often than not.

We've fought down through the years

and often with weapons-- you and I,

that were not suitable for the arsenal of gentlemen.

But I've always respected your honesty.

Evidently, you've never respected mine.

Am I supposed to respect a man who could do that?

(whispers): I didn't do it!

I hope in time to be able to prove

these documents are a deftly devised snare

in which I'm caught, but which is not of my handiwork.

You should know, Homer, how paper can lie!

I'll withdraw my suit, of course.

One must go into court with clean hands.

Mine seem to be soiled.

I'm sorry, Delbert, I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I'll give you the benefit of the doubt you're not giving me.

I don't believe you're responsible personally

for this... sordid frame-up.

MANNIX: Senator.

Well, Mr. Mannix, looks like I owe you an apology.

I'm deeply indebted.

Thanks to you, Mr. Mannix, Miniver is withdrawing his suit.

Why?

You caught him

with his hand in the cookie jar.

Didn't he deny this?

Of course he did.

All right, Mannix, let's have it.

Well, these papers have nothing to do with the item you published.

The libel suit... This is larceny-- it's even more conclusive.

If it's true.

Mr. Mannix...

the libel action is being withdrawn.

That's all we're interested in.

May I remind you that Mr. Boswell,

not the senator, is your client.

I know-- but does my client want to sidestep a lawsuit

by blackmailing the man who's suing him?

I assume that you weren't accusing me

of blackmail, Mr. Mannix.

I'd rather... I'd rather think

you're just being careless with your words.

Well, what word would you like me to use?

After all, you are threatening to expose Miniver

to force him to back down.

Just a minute, Mr. Boswell.

Joe, is this evidence a plant?

Is Miniver innocent?

I don't know.

GREGG: Then you're wasting our time. Yeah, maybe.

But just who collected all this information

and got it ready for me to buy?

It destroys Miniver.

Or, uh, do you think he also planted this to ruin himself?

I don't see that it's our concern to worry...

Go on with that.

I don't like coincidences.

I get close to Abernathy, and he gets killed.

I find Cornwall, who barely has enough brains to be a messenger boy,

and suddenly we're given all the answers to our problems.

Not given.

We paid $10,000.

Well, it could be somebody figured that

if they gave us the information on a silver platter,

we'd smell a red herring.

$10,000 is expensive enough to sound like an extortion plot,

but cheap enough to insure a buyer.

That money's a cover-up, Lou.

If Miniver was that big a thief,

he'd pay ten times that amount to get rid of that evidence.

Wait a minute, what you're saying is

that the original information was faked,

and it was planted to ruin me, is that right?

Cling to that notion, Homer, and nothing can save you

from a million-dollar judgment except bankruptcy.

Well, you've brought me full circle.

The case isn't closed.

Not quite yet.

Well, we've tracked down 952 possible telephone numbers

based on the first four digits you gave us,

and not one has any remote connection

with anybody vaguely concerned with this case.

Well, the other 48, are they possibles?

They're impossible-- they're private, unlisted numbers.

There's no chance of getting them away

from the telephone company.

You mean Intertect doesn't have the muscle to spring them?

No private company has.

Uh, the 714 code-- the $10,000?

I have the serial numbers on the bills we gave to the messenger.

Well, I guess we'll just have to go with that.

Yeah. And watch yourself--

I don't want you catching a bullet in the back.

I'd like to avoid that myself, Lou.

WICKERSHAM: I want this case resolved

without you or our client being hurt.

You're very considerate, sir.

But I've lived too long in the political jungle

to believe someone holding a knife at my throat

withdraws it just to be nice.

I'm not sure in which direction the knife is pointed,

but if the evidence against you is ever disproved,

Homer Boswell is in big trouble.

That you even raise the question indicates you know I was framed!

No, I don't.

But if you have been,

the same people have set up both you and Boswell.

What exactly do you want?

Your word that you'll drop the lawsuit

if you're convinced that Boswell was innocent

of any wrongful intent in printing that column.

He, in turn, will agree to withhold publication

of the evidence against you.

I didn't think I had much of a bargaining position.

Now I'm beginning to wonder.

Well, while you're wondering, consider what happens to you

if the evidence in Boswell's hands is ever made public.

Now, Boswell is ruined by the libel suit anyway,

so he has nothing to lose even if the accusations prove false.

If they're true, you've had it.

Either way, your career in the senate is over

the moment those canceled checks appear in the newspapers.

By the time you could clear yourself,

the senate would be a dim memory.

You've got my word. What else?

The case involves blackmail of a senator, extortion and murder.

Obviously, there are facts which you don't want made public--

but we need help.

I want a run-down on some phone numbers.

I'll see if I can get a court order.

Those phone numbers and the serial numbers

on $10,000 are our only leads.

The police could go after the money

without publicizing the more delicate aspects of the case.

The numbers are being printed in the newspapers

with a warning they're a pay-off in an extortion plot.

We want the extortionist to learn that he was given money he can't spend.

Why?

He might get mad and try to kill

the man who double-crossed him.

Mannix.

You're a fink. Walk.

Where, to a nice, quiet alley where you can pull that trigger?

Oh, I could pull it right now. I'd like to, you know?

I don't think you'll take that chance here on a busy sidewalk.

Mannix, I'm gonna blow your brains out

unless you go over there and get in that car.

Why don't you make it seem worthwhile?

Okay. You get me $10,000 in unmarked bills.

No, no, no-- $15,000 this time, you understand me?

And no funny business-- you see, I figured out

that business about account 714.

That's a code to take serial numbers.

Suppose I do get you that money.

Till you do, you could stay alive.

Now, walk.

Uh, Mannix, open your coat.

Ah.

The key's in the car-- you drive.

(starts engine)

Traynor, have you heard from Mannix?

Mr. Mannix checks in when he feels like it.

He might also fail to call if he caught a bullet.

I'm sorry.

I try to run this office

according to the directives sent down.

But Mr. Mannix seems to be the odd man out.

What about the serial numbers on the pay-off money?

Well, published in all the papers,

announced on radio and television,

printed copies posted in all the banks.

Could Mannix have called and talked to someone else in the office?

Nope. A blue memo, urgent,

went out to all secretaries and phone operators

advising them that I receive all messages

and phone calls from Mannix.

(phone rings)

Traynor here.

Uh, just a moment, I'll see.

For you. Mannix?

Senator Miniver.

Yes, Senator?

He did?

The judge approved.

Hold on a moment, please, Senator,

while I get someone to take down the list.

Put this on tape-- Senator Miniver's gonna read

the names of the owners of the unlisted phone numbers.

Go ahead, please, Senator.

Hello, Gloria.

What about the money?

He's gonna call for it.

Same deal as before with a messenger picking it up,

only this time unmarked bills.

No, I don't like the phone part.

He might tell them something.

Well, you seem to have a lot of trouble with telephones.

That number you gave me the first night we met, YMCA.

And the, uh, first four digits here

don't match the number that Cornwall called.

You made a little too much out of using her name.

I didn't think you were talking to her. Get rid of him.

(laughs): I can't, you see-- he took my gun.

Either you get her back

or you don't come back.

Now, you better believe it. Move!

Gloria, wait! He's all right!

Really, he's all right!

Wait!

What do you mean, he's all right?

He means I've got a gun on him.

Now, let's get a few things straightened out.

Who are you working for? Don't tell him.

He'll shoot us. No, he won't! What can he prove?

The $10,000? We haven't even seen it.

A couple of murders.

Prove it. We had no motive.

As you say, I haven't got much proof,

but if I turn you over to the police,

you haven't got much assurance they won't nail you.

What kind of a deal do you want to make?

Don't tell me who-- just tell me what.

What was behind that item planted in Boswell's column?

He's pretty cute--

he figures if he knows what, he'll find out who.

You can bet on it.

While I'm trying to find out, I won't be interested in you.

You might have time to get away. And the money?

You've already got $10,000 in hot serial numbers.

Now, if you get away, you can wait until that cools off.

(sighs, chuckles)

You offer a rotten deal.

I deal in a pretty rotten type of merchandise.

Come on, Gloria, it's our only chance.

All right. Abernathy planted the item

because I told him to.

I knew a couple of things only an ex-wife would know.

Why did you want it planted?

I didn't. A gentleman paid for the service.

You'll never find him

behind all the corporations and dummy companies he has,

but he owns the land near the dam Miniver wanted built.

There's a million dollars in shale oil coming out if no dam goes in.

(gunshot) (screams)

Hold it, Mannix!

Throw it away.

You're an idiot, Cornwall.

For a few thousand dollars, you jeopardized...

You killed her!

(gunshot)

(grunts)

(grunts)

(gunshot)

You okay?

Yeah.

Nice you could drop in.

Miniver got me the phone numbers-- one was Gregg's.

I followed him, but he lost me when he ducked into the building.

Yes, the old horseshoe-nail bit again.

For want of $10,000, a million was lost.

(theme music playing)