All language subtitles for Marlowe.2022.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

Man on radio:
War continues in Europe.

Hitler has suggested that any
questions over the future of Poland

will be settled entirely
between Germany and Russia.

He also stated that he regards the
czechoslovak question as closed.

Speaking in Washington, president
Roosevelt made no comment as to...

Woman: The name's cavendish.

A miss cavendish.

Perhaps it's a first
name, cavendish?

Um, cigarette?

The cigarettes you keep
for your clients,

are they better or worse
than what you smoke?

They're the same.

Perhaps it is a first
name, cavendish.

It's a good first name.

Hmm.

Please.

How private exactly are your
investigations, Mr. Marlowe?

What can I do for you,
Mrs. Cavendish?

Mmm, you are a detective.

I'd like you to
find someone for me.

Mmm-hmm.

Nico Peterson.

He was my lover.

He disappeared
without saying good-bye.

When you say disappeared, do you
mean, out of your life or out of the world?

I don't know,
that's why I'm here.

Where was your husband,
Mrs. Cavendish,

when your lover, Nico
Peterson, disappeared?

In retrospect,

do call me cavendish
without the "Mrs."

I like it.

Was your lover the sort of man
to disappear with you as a lover?

Normally, they don't
disappear easily.

No, I bet they don't.

They stay around, climb
trellises, scenes in restaurants,

lie down in the road,
promise you anything.

Oh, I know how it goes.

Do you lie down in
the road, Mr. Marlowe?

Dunk? Please.

Well, he's tall, like you.

Bit of a weaker man.

He dresses nice, meticulously.

What does that say about a man?

Does Mr. Peterson get
money from his profession,

or does he just
profess his profession?

You seem to assume that I was
involved with someone unsuitable.

Yes, unless you were
unsuitable for him.

Go to hell, you pathetic...

Marlowe: Would it be accurate
to say that Mr. Peterson would be

a marginal person
in motion pictures?

Apologies, sir. Yes. All right.

Mrs. Cavendish:
It would be accurate.

It would be
very accurate, indeed.

Man: Go to hell, you pathetic...

Mrs. Cavendish: We
would meet at the corbata club.

Do you know it?

How did Mr. Peterson
know the corbata club?

Was he your guest or the kind
of guy who was anybody's guest?

My husband and I
have an arrangement.

May I ask, is your
husband homosexual?

No.

He isn't remotely
that interesting.

He likes Polo, alcohol,
waitresses and my money.

Your money, Mrs. Cavendish?

I beg your pardon, Mr. Marlowe.

I'm asking
if the money is yours.

My father was in oil. He's dead.

You'd know my mother,
but we won't discuss her now.

Did you conduct your affair
with Mr. Peterson at the club?

We weren't meeting in the
horse sheds, Mr. Marlowe.

What did he not show up for?

An assignation.

I telephoned him a
few times, no answer.

And then I went to his
house the following week.

The milk hadn't been canceled,

and the newspapers
were piled up on his porch.

Marlowe: Did he
have things to hide?

Mrs. Cavendish: Haven't we all?

Marlowe: What do you think
has become of Mr. Peterson?

Mrs. Cavendish: I told you,
I want a set of fresh eyes,

and yours come
highly recommended.

Maybe you'll find out
what I can't.

My name's really Clare.

Like the county.

You know the county?

Yeah, in Ireland. I know itwell.

My mother was in
pictures. You'd know her.

It's rather embarrassing,
the upper class.

You're very perceptive
and sensitive, Mr. Marlowe.

I imagine it gives you trouble.

Man: He ain't home, Beau.

What? He owe you dough,
or make time with your wife?

That's the way it is, huh?

Yeah, I'd say so,
and good for him.

He's not a bad guy, if you
don't trust people anyway.

I don't.

I think he's from Cleveland.

That's my place
across the street.

He used to come over sometimes,

pass the time of day,
give me a smoke.

How, uh... how long
has he been gone?

Oh, I guess I last seen
him seven weeks ago.

You, uh... you see him leave?

No, I just noticed he was gone.

How did you know?

Well, he wasn't there anymore.

That means
there weren't any women

banging on his front door,

or throwing a shoe at the house.

I mean, I did pretty good
in my day, but not like him.

Are you a cop?

Sort of.

You're a private
dick. Ain't no cop.

Yeah, you're not the first one

to come around asking about him.

A pair of wetbacks
showed up last week.

They was all gussied up.

But a beaner in a suit and fancy
necktie is still a beaner, right?

No, sometimes
he's the king of Spain.

King of Spain don't
ride around in no Lincoln

with a Mexican re-spray.

Yeah, I used to work in the low
end of the motor trade myself.

It was two beaners in a hot car

that had been across
the border and back.

Joe: Oh, let's start
at the beginning.

This guy's been looked at, sure.

Grifts, alienations
of affection,

parking tickets, drunk
at a social gathering.

And in the early days,
public solicitation.

Now, nobody knew
he ever had a house.

He's down as "domicile unknown."

He does have a
house. I was there.

Joe: Yeah, well,
there's having a house

and being the person
paying for it, isuppose.

Who was paying for it?

Joe: I think you'll find
he was paying cash

from his no visible
means of support.

I hope the lady friend looking
for him looks good in black.

He was killed.

October 22nd, hit and run
outside the corbata club.

You owe me lunch.

Liquid or regular?

Deceased was struck by
a vehicle, make unknown,

driver unknown
on bay canyon drive

just outside the corbata club.

Decedent had numerous injuries

including gross comminuted
fracture right side of his skull.

Death be not proud.

I guess there's no point
in asking for an invite.

Oh, none at all, sir.

Uh-huh.

Oh, hey.

You looking for a gardening job?

Actually, no, a membership form.

Albert, we've got
a hedge hopper here.

He needs trimming.

Albert: A real heathen.

Marlowe: Hey, buddy.

Joe: Maybe there's a reason
you're unpopular with policemen.

Keep getting, I don't
know, punched, locked up,

and almost, but not quite,

charged with accessory,
obstruction, et cetera.

And at your age.

It's my manner, Joe.

Yup. Starting to wish
you still had your pension?

Sure you are.

Look, marlowe...

Listen,

this guy got killed after
getting sauced in there.

The remains smelled
like a brewery

and he had marks
up and down his arms,

his head popped like a pumpkin.

The corbata club
likes to make it nice.

It does not like trouble.

Hit and run is two
crimes, at least.

Don't fuck with me. This is L.A.

These guys like Peterson
are a dime a dozen.

They come out here,
they fail a screen test,

and they do
what they have to do.

Could any member
of the corbata club

not know that he was dead?

From our own chief of detectives

to the new ambassador
to england,

I find it highly unlikely that it
didn't come up over cream tea

that a scumbag had caught
a buick at the front entrance.

They ask you to broom the case?

No one has to ask, my brother.

Can I see the police file?

You don't need it.

Why you looking for this guy?

A lady wanted to find him.

Well, he'll wait
until she comes by.

Dorothy: Go back to Boston,
and to that miserable goddamn family.

And then, onto england,

the court of St.-fucking-James.

You're not the only one
done with this.

Man: Just remember one thing.

Oh, please,
darling, not another.

I paid for that horse.

Dorothy: I get to keep him, too.

Could you do mine after?

Are you the new mechanic?

Maybe. What's it paying?

You've a name? Marlowe.

"This is hell,
nor am I out of it."

That was his one good line.

You don't think
he was Shakespeare.

Neither did he.

Maybe I am out of it.

Well out of it.

You startled me, marlowe.

Apologies. Seems to be
my day for startling.

Who else did you startle?

Some elegant Mick outside,
who quoted marlowe.

Oh. Are you quotable,
Mr. Marlowe?

Christopher marlowe.

Ah. He played in doctor
faustus at the Harvard prep.

Never lets anyone forget that.

Hmm.

Joseph O'Reilly, my
mother's financial advisor,

oh, and soon to be
ambassador to england.

He never lets anyone
forget about that, either.

What did he play, one
of the seven deadly sins?

Please.

Icedtea?

You could have some
of mine, if you like.

No, thank you.

I can offer you
anything, really.

It's like the arabian
nights around here.

Man: Clare!

Clare!

Who the hell is this?

Sorry, I'm...
I'm Philip marlowe.

Hello, marlowe.

Cavendish.

Clare: Mr. Marlowe calls
me cavendish, Richard.

I like it.

It's your name, darling.

I like it as a first name.

Mr. Cavendish: Glad
I'm good for something, dear.

Have you, um, offered your very
large friend a proper drink, darling?

She did, and I
declined, thank you.

So, Mr. Marlowe, what
kind of business are you in?

Mr. Marlowe detects things.

Ah. And what are you
detecting here, marlowe?

My necklace.

I lost it, he found it.

Of course he did.

I wonder where.

Well, it was a matter of
retracing your wife's steps.

Marlowe.

Yes, Mr. Cavendish?

Fuck yourself.

It's a pleasure to meet
you, too, Mr. Cavendish.

Clare: Didn't go
for it. That's odd.

He must think there's
something between us.

Probably something...

Sexual

so, tell me about
you and Mr. Peterson,

with no embellishments, please.

Clare: Imet him at the
corbata club for the first time.

I thought he was handsome.

We made love,

and then I saw him again
a few weeks later.

Not an assignation, an accident.

In Tijuana, at my
favorite bar, la quinteria.

I was there with my husband.

We were watching the
procession, dia de iOS muertos.

Marlowe: What was
he hustling in Mexico?

Clare: I don't know.

Nico has many schemes.

Marlowe: He's in the grave.

Nico Peterson is dead.

He's pretending.

He's pretending very well.

Oh, I know,
he's dead and buried.

That he got killed in
front of the corbata club.

Supposedly.

Everybody says he was.

But you see, the
significant thing is that

I saw him the other day.

From the street.

Not in my mind's eye.

On the street.

Not dead at all.

I think we're finished,
Mrs. Cavendish.

I just wanted you
to start at the beginning.

Begin at the beginning.

That's what you're
supposed to do, right?

Where did you see him?

Back in Tijuana.

My mother wanted me to
view some azteca horses,

you know, the prancing kind.

I did that.

I do what she says.

So I was in la quinteria again,

having one of
their divine mojitos,

when I saw Nico
driving down the street.

He called himself a collector,

most of all collected junk,

pretend-antiques.

Isuppose they're for the movies.

Things that don't exist.

Fairy tales.

There's a man in Baja

who thinks Nico's
actually a producer.

He's been fleeced.

What? What's wrong?

You lied to me, Mrs. Cavendish.

And I sat there and watched
you lie to your husband.

Good afternoon.

Woman: Hello, Mr...

Marlowe.

Oh, of course, I knew that.

Richard made a call
when you first came in.

You know what they say
about the old boys' club?

What's that?

There really is one.

And what did he find,
madam, uh...

Dorothy quincannon.

And don't pretend
you don't know.

Well, let's see.

You had a bad war,

and then, in the '205,
you drank yourself

out of a good job in
the oil business... did I?

Got on with the los
Angeles d.A. As an investigator,

but that didn't work out too
well, either, did it, Mr. Marlowe?

You see, he found all
that out in five minutes.

You're not the only one
who can make enquiries.

You weren't looking for pearls.

No, ithrow them before
swine. It's a habit of mine.

Tell me, Mr. Marlowe,
what does my daughter want?

A divorce?

I might even approve.

I'm sorry, I only discuss
business with my employer,

so, ifyou'll excuse me.

Marlowe: Excuse me.

Hey, Fergus. Marlowe.

Jesus, here it is.

Not a single lead on
who ran Peterson down.

We pursued inquiries.

But how far?

Marlowe, if one wanted to find

an absolute nest of entitled
and connected tosspots

who feel they can
just drive away

after running over
another drunk's head,

you go to the corbata club.

There were no witnesses.
A suspect wasn't possible.

Saturday night, they
come and go at that club

like rats through a
hole in a garbage can.

It could've been any one of a
hundred cars that flattened him,

and probably none of them
contained anybody it'd be wise to arrest.

We are in the real world here.

You understand, the real world?

Sometimes justice is blind,

sometimes justice doesn't
give a shit, and might be right.

So, who's the mystery broad
you're working for?

His sister?

Tell me about his sister.

Maybe she identified him,
maybe she didn't.

You tell me about his sister.

I got my own sister. You can
stick his sister up your ass.

I'm working for a person who
thinks that Nico Peterson is still alive.

Yeah, that's complicated.

I'm not a complicated man.

My client claims
to have seen him,

which gives you
a murder, my friend.

Yeah, I got plenty, thanks.

Here's your file.

My employerthinks he didn't die.

That it wasn't him that got
smashed outside the corbata club.

To repeat myself...

It gives me a murder, yeah.

Theoretically. Maybe.

What's your trouble, gents?
Money or women?

Both, with the
complication of thirst.

He's like the rest of us, pat,

except he can't take a hint.

Pat: What're you having?

Whiskey. Usual

what's going on
these days, Patrick?

You married, orhappy?

At least my laundry's done.

Pat had a rough two weeks finding
clean drawers after he lost his mother.

Fuck yourself.

If I could, I wouldn't
have to listen.

If it was an
operation, I'd sign up.

If he's alive, Joe,
you have a homicide.

Gonna keep saying that?

That's the last thing you want
in homicide, I realize, homicide.

What, you think
it was a homicide?

I went to the graveyard.
Guess what?

It was cremated. Good guess.

Yeah.

Even the teeth were destroyed.

I mean, they'd be everywhere.

You ever run over a rat or
a cat, you know, look at it?

If Peterson didn't die, who did?

Look, marlowe, I know you
got this sir Lancelot bullshit,

and you live like some monk,

you got no regular self-interest
anyone can count on,

you like getting sapped and
locked up for just not stopping,

and this is an interesting
story you have, iftrue.

But that stiff, Peterson,

for all intents and purposes,

had Peterson's wallet
in his pocket.

Plus, he was identified
at the scene,

for all intents and
purposes. By who?

The manager of the club,
Floyd hanson,

and by the Los Angeles county
coroner, who's a member,

so, it's nobody's
business now but county.

County line runs where?

Bay canyon drive.

Right along here?

Oh, Jesus.

Make the call, Joe.

I'll keep you out of it.

Mr. Hanson says it's
most irregular, Mr. Marlowe.

But he'll see you.

Keep to the left, follow the
signs that say "reception."

Oh, thank you.

I'm Floyd hanson, the manager.

What can I do for
you, Mr. Marlowe?

Don't bother
turning off the car.

The gateman tells me
you're a private investigator.

Could that be so?

Yes, I used to work
for the d.A.'S office.

I've heard that.

I've heard that you've heard.

I'm here about an
accident that occurred.

A serious one?

Nico Peterson.

That actually wasn't
on the property.

That was more
in the public road.

Oh. I fully appreciate
the distinction,

but sometimes people get
moved off the property

even though their leg
is lying on it a little bit.

There was an interesting
case in Cincinnati.

What was that?

A man was beaten to death,

and then he was put in the road,

and his head was
run over by a tire

to obliterate
the cause of death,

and to get him off the property.

Mr. Peterson was
run down on the road,

and the road is
not on the property.

I appreciate that.

Was Peterson
a member of this club?

No, Mr. Peterson
wasn't a member, no.

Marlowe: That's because
you're exclusive, I imagine.

Hanson: We are,
but your meaning, sir?

What would we do without Mexico?

Mexico's the future. We have
a sister club in Baja, California.

Looks like the past.

It must be brought along.

Mexico or its inhabitants?

Stick to the point, Mr. Marlowe.

It must've been a shock for you,

seeing Mr. Peterson
on the road like that.

I was at chateau
Thierry, old man.

Belleau wood.

I've seen men in more disarray

than that in which
Mr. Peterson was discovered.

Once, after an artillery strike,

I found a friend's tooth
in my whiskey glass.

I drank the whiskey.

You're a terrible man.

He was dead, and I
needed the whiskey.

You're my age.

Perhaps you were there.

Perhaps you know how
it was, and therefore is.

Royal Irish rifles.

The somme.

For the rest of time,
we have seen the dead.

Let's take a stroll,
Mr. Marlowe.

We're alive,
when others are not.

And it's a pleasant morning.

Marlowe: I see
you've made inequity

pretty much your profession.

Hanson: The club is exclusive.

The rich like to play.

The poio grounds are over there.

So, whose guest was Mr. Peterson

the night he was killed?

Who's your employer,
Mr. Marlowe?

We're at an impasse, Mr. Hanson.

Who's yours?

I don't know what you
want me to tell you.

The police were thorough.

Aren't they always?

Isn't that what they
do, be thorough?

I rarely blame a policeman,

unless he's really bad.

There's generally
someone he's afraid of.

And who, in this instance,

would any policeman
be afraid of?

Well, if the hit-and-run driver

were a very substantial
or connected person,

a policeman might be
afraid of the club, in general.

I mean, I am.

What would it take for
you not to be afraid?

What can I do?

Now listen, Mr. Hanson,
I intend to ask questions.

Then ask your damn questions.

This was a hit and run.

And given the road, it
was probably a member,

and perhaps the driver didn't
even know he'd struck anything.

Everybody in this country has
been drunk since its inception.

I don't think I've ever
even seen a sober driver.

Shall we have some tea?

Marlowe: Is there much
gambling here, Mr. Hanson?

You're on very dangerous ground.

There are cards that are played.

Debts accumulated.

There are card rooms.
They're private.

Bedrooms?

We have guest accommodations.

Do studio men and the
producers have meetings here?

Why am I talking to you?

Because you don't
know who hired me.

Well, name the thing
that most intrigues you,

perhaps we could
conclude our chat.

There is the possibility that the
dead man was not Nico Peterson.

His sister was shown his
corpse the next day at the morgue,

and expressed no doubts.

Where could I find his sister?

Ask the police.

Why do you raise the
possibility that Peterson is alive,

when I so clearly saw him dead?

Someone may have seen him
recently in the street.

And where was this,
uh, supposedly?

I can't tell you.

Good-bye, Mr. Marlowe.

I'm sorry that it was ultimately
uninteresting to talk to you.

Uh, but I do like this
thing that you have

about not being afraid,
when you should be.

I'll see myself out.

Man: I told you you're the
most beautiful woman in town.

You'll be a star!

My, my.

You're not a regular.

Well, not yet, anyway.

They do like to
keep it exclusive.

Yeah, it seems that way.

Try me at the cabana.
Venice beach.

Excuse me?

Try me at
the cabana, venice beach.

Ask for Lynn. Lynn Peterson.

You're Nico's sister.

Man: Sir?

Gentlemen.

Marlowe: Lynn. I'm not sure
if it's an "n" or an "e."

Woman: With an "x"
if she works here.

Marlowe: There you go.

Robes in the cabinet,
and no monkey business.

|'|| try not to.

Marlowe: Thank you.
Woman: You're welcome.

Man: Here he is.

Mr. Hanson sends his apologies.

Lynn Peterson's been detained.

I'm, uh...
I'm sorry to hear that.

Is that, uh, Lynn with an "x?"

Ah, fuck it.

I'm getting too old for this.

Hilda: Are you keeping
evil company?

Marlowe: More often than not.

Hilda: Well, then you
better be a good boy,

because you're going to
meet Dorothy quincannon

at the garden
ofallah hotel at 3:00.

That's in 20 minutes.

Dorothy quincannon.

Did you come for
the film stars, hilda?

I came to bloody be one.

Huh.

Dorothy: First of all,
you have to boil the water.

Now, is that water boiled?
Waiter: Yes, ma'am.

Dorothy: And then
scald the teapot.

Give it a good scalding.
Waiter: All right.

Dorothy: Pmin
oneteaspoon percup,

then one for the pot,

and then leave it to
draw for three minutes.

Think of a soft-boiled
egg, darling.

Three minutes. No more, no less.

And then you're ready to
pour. Have you got that?

Yes, ma'am. Hmm.

When you make tea, make tea.

When you make water, make water.

Water.

I... I don't think he got it.

Did you?

You lifted it from Joyce, ma'am.

And he lifted it from somewhere
else, shitty little man that he is.

Never a day's work in his life.

Eh, apart from the books.

Terrible little syphilitic.

Tricked an American.

Sometimes that's all
you have to do.

Is that what you did?

Pvetflcked any
number ofamericans,

including playing
pagan princesses,

Elizabeth of england,

ruined widows,

and any number of flash-eyed,
barefoot peasant girls.

There's nothing to it.

All you need are regular
features and the ability to read.

Oh, I very much doubt that.

Hmm.

Ispoke with my daughter.

Surprisingly, she's not at all
interested in getting a divorce.

She loves her husband.

But the arrangement suits her.

Alcohol, waitresses
and her money.

My money.

She hired you to find
another swine, didn't she?

Nico Peterson, who
doesn't want to be found.

You learned all of this
from her, yeah?

Ah!

Now, I want that tea strong
enough to trot a mouse on.

Fine. Done.

You can go now.
I will be mother.

Thank you, ma'am.

I have also had the pleasure
of Mr. Peterson's company.

He was proposing
certain investments.

In the equitation
business, I presume.

Whatever business,
I wasn't interested.

But my daughter...

Cannot help but want

what she presumes I have.

And you had Mr. Peterson?

That was a presumption,
Mr. Marlowe.

An understandable one.

I'm sure my daughter's
paying you handsomely.

I can't talk to you about
your daughter's business.

What business do you think
there is in my family

that isn't mine?

If she thought I wanted you,

she'd have you, too.

Mmm.

Perhaps she already has.

I can only say it again.

I'm not in a position to discuss
your daughter's business with you.

You're a proud, stubborn
man, Mr. Marlowe.

I'm just an ordinary Joe,

trying to earn a buck
and stay out of jail.

Clare's father drove his car off a cliff
in la jolla before she was even born.

He was in the oil
business, very successful.

But he couldn't hide
from the black dog.

It's the one thing that
frightens me, Mr. Marlowe.

Thathound_.

Itruns in families.

You're afraid she's unstable?

Oh, I know she is.

So be careful, Mr. Marlowe.

She has this burning need

for a father figure.

You see, I had to pretend

that she was my niece
all those years.

My advisers thought that,
uh, a daughter...

Would age me.

What advisers?

You've met the soon-to-be
ambassador to england?

Mr. O'Reilly.

And maybe he advised me wrongly,

but I had to listen
all those years.

He even bought a studio.

Said it was to
advance my career,

but it did no harm
to his bank balance.

So, my daughter
had to be my niece,

until, at last, even I
had to face the fact.

The fact?

That my game was up.

It had been for some time.

No more barefoot colleens,
no more ruritanian queens.

I have more money
than the queen of sheba

and I'm a very, very,
very happy has-been.

You mean "a celluloid
legend," surely.

The key to Hollywood,
Mr. Marlowe,

is knowing when your game is up.

Take the money and run.

Or stay, if you want.

But at least take the money.

I had another investigator on
Mr. Peterson's case.

A shamus called
Seamus, if you can believe.

What did he find?

That besides being prop
master at pacific pictures,

Nico was also a wannabe agent

with the client of one
miss Amanda toxteth.

So, you see, Mr. Marlowe,

my daughter wasn't the only one

spreading her legs for him.

So, if you find Mr. Peterson,
come to me before...

Where would I find miss toxteth?

I don't know, some
god-awful b picture, I suppose.

Ma'am.

Wait.

How dare you?

I'm a little confused.

I've already been paid.

Cut! Clear, cut!

I need to see the face. The
face. I need to see the face.

Amanda. Uh, camera's over there.

I need you to
look at the cameras.

Car rolls up, you look
at the cameras, okay?

Thank you. Lunch.

I can take this off, right?

Director: Yes. After lunch.

Believe me, I look better
without the war paint.

Marlowe: Thanks for
seeing me, miss toxteth.

Call me Mandy.

You're a detective?

I'm more harmless than I look.

That must be exciting,
being a detective.

I can hardly contain myself.

Oh, well, don't contain
yourself on my account.

Nico Peterson
was your agent, yes?

Well...

He got me some work.

Riders of the red dawn.

Did you see it?

Mmm, not yet, no.

Oh. Well, it's gone now.

Joel mccrea was supposed to
be in it, but something happened.

I play the rancher's wife who makes eyes
at an Indian, and the Indian gets hanged.

I'll catch itwhen it
comes round again.

Acting seems to be
going well, miss toxteth.

You're sweet.

Actually, my mother says I
should fuck more producers.

What do you think?

I think your mother
is gravely mistaken.

What can you tell me
about Nico Peterson?

How deeply should
my account be detailed?

Well, when did you last see him?

I guess, a week before he died.

He was trying to get back
into my good graces.

He was a womanizer, yes?

That's a tricky question.

Nico liked the conquest,
not the women.

He'd hardly touch you
after he'd had you.

That's a particular kind of man.

Some girls say
handsome men are cold.

That's normally just
what you say to ugly men

to make them feel better, but...

Nico was cold.

Nico had girlfriends, but he
didn't have girls who were friends.

Do you know any of
his other girlfriends?

Clare quincannon
supposedly fell for him.

The blonde with
the terrible mother.

And the mother's story...

Kept by the ambassador.

He even bought
this studio for her.

I hear it's pure slavery.

Did Nico have anything to do with
Mexico, business out of Mexico?

There's only one
business out of Mexico.

Don't be a sweet chump.

When he had money, that was why.

And probably the only reason
anybody would look for him.

Owed money or a fix.

What did he drive, mister?

Who? Nico Peterson.

Well, whatever he drove,

he ain't parking it here.

You again?

It's all right, I'm a friend
of Nico's. Philip marlowe.

You're much too persistent.

I'm trying to find Nico.

He's dead. Wait a minute.

Are you still sure of that?

I've been hired to look into
your brother's disappearance.

He hasn't disappeared,
he's in a jar on a marble shelf.

Ihadto buy it myself.

You saw it too.

Should have known.

What if I told you
he might be alive?

I don't believe in
fairy tales, mister.

I saw his body,

on the gurney at the place.

So, itwasn't at the
club on the roadway.

I did everything I had to.

It couldn't have
been easy seeing him.

Wasn't much fun.

And what's Floyd
got against you?

Why I wanted to meet.

And ifyou're afraid of him
or anything, we have to talk.

I'm not afraid of anything.

What's in the book?

Words. No dope?

Just words. I's a
book about words.

Nico was good with words.

You say you saw his body?

Yeah.

And then the cop tried
to make me in the hallway.

Probably has a daughter my age.

It's funny.

Whatever you do,

there is always someone
trying to make you.

Mmm-hmm.

You know what?

Fuck Floyd, fuck
cops, and fuck you!

Hey. Man: I know the lady.

She's the punk's sister, but...

Who are you?

You are a big one.

I'm thinking of
renting the place.

Donde esta Serena?

Marlowe: Who's Serena?

You know my brother,
he probably dumped her.

Where's Serena?

Who's Serena?
My brother, he's...

Who's Serena?

You take us to her
oryouwisee what happens.

Por favor.

Please.

Man: Well, well, what
have we got here?

Man: Boss wants a word.

And who might you be, big guy?

Cedric, big guy.

Your boss's name?

Oh, he's a little guy.

Lou Hendricks.

Well, well.

Get up.

The Lou Hendricks.

Finally I need no introduction.

I'm a generic name, Cedric,

an eponymous trademark.

Marlowe: You're a criminal.

Businessman and philanthropist.

I could use a few bucks,
take me away from all this.

I was hoping you could use
a few bucks, Mr. Marlowe,

but, alas,
it will be transactional,

not philanthropic.

Well, what was the
words you wanted?

I can only hope it is
not a past participle.

Where's home, Mr. Marlowe?

Where the heart is,
but you know that.

I mean, your actual,
quotidian home.

26 maple boulevard.

Let's take Mr. Marlowe to
his quotidian home, Cedric.

The elements of style
by William strunk Jr.

A participial phrase at the
beginning of a sentence

must refer to the
grammatical subject.

Walking slowly down the road,

he saw a woman
accompanied by two children.

If you give any trouble,

he will drop you like a
bad grammatical habit.

Lou: Do you need to dress that?

Cedric, your do-rag.

You mean, my pocket
square, Mr. Hendricks?

Some days, Cedric, I wish
I'd left you where I found you.

Give me the goddamn thing.

Thank you.

Ihean Mr. Marlowe,

and from various connections,

that you are looking
for someone.

We're all looking for someone.

Oh, that's very sad.

Tell me who I'm looking for.

Let me guess.

Two mexes who are looking
for a broad named Serena.

Serena, a femme of the
most delicate shape imaginable,

last seen in the arms
of one Nico Peterson.

Does that name ring a bell?

A tinkle.

I don't need you
to hear a tinkle,

I need you to hear
a sonorous bell

with a hunchback
swinging from it.

Not a tinkle, Mr. Marlowe.

Who was chasing
Peterson's sister?

Two beaners, I hear.

Maladroits from sunnier climes,

the land of banana
and tarantula,

who were also, quite separately,

and I should
like you to notice that,

looking for her brother.

I would very much appreciate
a word with our friend Nico

if you find him.

And I will pay you.

Tell me what Nico
was involved in

and why he faked
his death and ran.

Nico, in the end,

had to avoid everybody, I think.

But I will tell you that he
used to run errands for me,

down in the land of the
sombrero, the serape and the mule.

His Spanish was good,

he was dark in a...
Latin lover kind of way.

He was useful in Mexico.

Is it bananas or tarantulas
you import, Mr. Hendricks?

Tarantulas.

I'm entirely composed
of tarantulas.

And me afraid of spiders.

Nico worked for me.

He would bring me items so hard to come
by up here where the laws are so strict.

At the time
of his supposed death,

he was in possession
of some of those items.

And these items are...

There are items and items, and
one item that related to the said items.

Why don't we take a ride
to the corbata club?

Maybe he stashed
the items there.

Mr. Marlowe, people will talk.

When I go, I go into
the back entrance.

Please leave that remark alone.

Wouldn't touch it.

I grease the corbata.

Beneath this fine charvet shirt,

there is nothing but grease.

Marlowe: Peterson
would've needed help.

He would've needed a body.

It has conspiracy
written all over it.

I don't think Nico went to a
graveyard with a shovel and a lamp

looking for a stiff to
fit his tuxedo, do you?

The club was
in on the conspiracy,

but what's the club's interest?

Ask your client.

I think you'll keep looking
for Peterson, client or not,

because you can't stop.

But I'll pay you $1,000
just to sweeten the pot.

Cedric, uh,
next street on the right.

Pull over, please.

It would be wise to
reconsider, Mr. Marlowe.

Marlowe: Stop
anywhere here, Cedric.

26 maple boulevard.

And I am not so smart
as they think I am.

You're welcome to come inside.

They give you back yourbadge?

No, I'm hereto
report a kidnapping.

If you find him, I will know.

And then I'll come get him.

And when that happens,

don't try to stand in the way.

Thanks, Cedric.

Joe: So, two mexes came out of
nowhere and kidnapped this broad,

is that what you're telling me?

That's what I'm telling you.

That, and that she turns
tricks at the corbata club.

And identified as her brother

a stiff who wasn't
Nico Peterson.

Joe: Yeah, there
are certain things

I'm just not gonna hear.

They were looking
for another broad,

someone they called Serena.

I'm not here.

His sister was getting out.

You don't put it in the system,

I'll go and make a report,

I'll go on the record.

I'll spill that Peterson
wasn't Peterson.

And that's not news,
that's a feature.

I can never remember which
newspaper hates the mayor most.

This will all go okay

if you don't
manipulate me, okay?

What we do, we
get you out of here,

I take a call from
an anonymous citizen

who saw her put in the car.

And you, play nice, or I'll put
you at the scene as a suspect.

It ain't what happened,
it's what I type. Deal.

I'll give your pal Bernie
ohls the dope off the record.

Sheriff's detectives, I can
start everybody looking for her,

and they'll look hard.

Is this good enough for you?

They took my .38.

Yeah.

There's your .38.

If someone gets killed with
your .38, you still have a .38.

If they ever make us
record serial numbers,

it'll be fucked.

Marlowe?

Marlowe: Detective Bernie ohls.

Wait in the car, Arthur.

Get us a drink, marlowe.

Scotch on the rocks.

Marlowe: She's being looked for?

City, sheriffs, everybody.

Not a peep out of the brass.

Once a bulletin goes
out, nobody can kill it.

"All car alert
for Lynn Peterson."

Mexicans driving some
sort of Tijuana sprayjob.

She'll get no different
than anybody else.

Just really look for her.
I lost her.

When you're getting
to be an old timer,

it's okay to get out alive.

I rely on you to give me
good example, marlowe.

Who's the frail across the way?

Marlowe: Nothing frail
about her, Bernie.

Well, lay low, and, uh,
consider another profession.

Good night, miss.
Good night, detective.

Hey.

Who hurt you?

Mexicans looking for Peterson.

What were they looking for?

For god's sakes, you tell me.

Coat?

Thank you.

One could live
in a house like this

and so much would fall away.

Marlowe: That's how
the other half lives,

and we do pretty good.

Clare,

you haven't once told me
why you really want Nico.

Amanda toxteth claims that

he wasn't especially
thoughtful in the bedroom.

Poor Amanda.

She played a tough game.

Tell me about it.

There's not one
studio in this town

that's run by men who
were looked at twice

before they had
their first million.

If women never liked you when you
were poor, that must twist you all up.

So they call you forth for
refreshing acts of humiliation.

Who did you learn this from?

The ambassador?

Mmm, the ambassador
got to town already loaded.

And he'll be even richer
when he leaves.

Just without my mother.

Your mother also wanted Nico.

She tried to hire you too?

She always wants
what I want or have.

You mean Nico?

Maybe.

Or maybe she's just afraid
that you'll make love to me

before you find out
just how terrible I am.

That's a terrible idea.

"Why"?

Because I'm in your employ,

because you're half my age.

Because you're so beautiful,

I'd lose my bearings.

What can we do, then,
if we can't do that?

We can dance.

Clare: I spent
six years with the nuns,

just so my mother could
be a flash-eyed Colleen

with her hands on her hips.

She had to play the
virgin for 15 years.

Gosh.

Although you surrender
in each picture, naturally.

And all the while,

the ambassador was
advising her financially.

Has he ever advised
you financially?

You mean, has he
ever touched me?

Suppose I do.

Maybe that's the wrong question.

Oh! Pardon me.

You're a terrible dancer

I'm a worse lover.

You expect me to believe that?

The dance is good.

For now.

Ihaveto be somewhere.

Should I come back here after?

Stay over?

As friends?

That never works, Clare.

I don't intend it to.

A puzzle has many pieces.

I don't know exactly
what you're gonna find.

You might find a dragon
and have to kill it.

Fair enough.

Good night, Philip marlowe.

Night.

Clare: Is the ambassador
here? Woman: Yes, ma'am.

Clare: So, do we
call you ambassador now?

Ambassador: Clare, how
are ya? It's good to see you.

Ambassador:
Your motherjust left.

Clare: What did she want?

O'Reilly: Don't ask.
So it didn't go well?

Dorothy: Where's
your camera, Mr. Marlowe?

I don't have one.

Mmm. Do you have anyidea

how much that photo
would've been worth?

Are they breaking any laws?

Only the laws of attraction.

I, for one, would pay big money

for an account of all of
their terms of endearment.

He's old enough
to be her father.

Yeah.

But then...

So are you.

Man: Hey, taxi!

There goes Bernie ohls.

Arthur ran the number
plate of your visitor last night.

Yeah?

That car belongs to
Dorothy quincannon.

"So"? Of all the people in los
Angeles who you do not fuck with,

the new ambassador who opened
the pacific studios with bootleg money

and his mistress
are top of the list!

Everybody's better
connected than us.

Ever wonder what
the attraction was?

What? The mother
or the daughter?

Maybe both.

You are a very
sick man, marlowe.

L.a.p.d. Found Lynn Peterson.

Where is she?

Encino.

She'll wait till we get there.

Was she, um...

Was she shot with my gun?

No, she wasn't shot.

Doctor: Deep continuous
transverse wound

to the anterior triangles
of the neck,

cutting both venous
and arterial structures,

injuries not compatible
with life.

That means her throat was cut.

Doctor: That was
after the lit cigarettes,

the knuckle clusters,
the knife, the rape.

Marlowe: Oh, my god.

Guys, you're not
gonna like this.

Hey, you.

Yeah?

That's the sister of the man
you identified two weeks ago

who was killed outside
the corbata club.

His head was squashed
like a pumpkin.

Were you aware of that?

Make a note of it in
your report, doctor.

I just do the bodies.

Just make a note of it.

Thank you, Bernie.

Nobodvaes forever.

When things get down and dirty,

rank and file don't like it,

notevenin the county.

At last, Bernie.

Joe.

Come with us.

Ohls: The blue car
came in an hour ago.

The two suspects
in Tijuana got out.

That's the re-spray.

Ohls: Yep.

Who's that?

That's the Bentley
of Mr. Lou Hendricks.

The Lou Hendricks?

The same. So he's a
member, like the Mexicans.

I want you to go
after these fucks

like a rat terrier in a closet,

I don't wanna know
anything about it.

Ah, come on, Bernie,
do it yourself.

I still have a
pension, you don't.

Fair enough.

We own bay canyon. We'll
block the roads in and out.

Give me the glasses.

Get down that rat hole.

How?

Doesn't matter how.

Fair enough.

Come on, Joe, let's do this.

You look like shit.

Fair enough.

Just so you know,

the real shit doesn't go down
in there until the early hours.

So, once you're in,
you gotta wait and wait.

Marlowe: Fair enough.

And remember, you're the guy who can
ID the Mexicans, so watch your corners.

Fair enough.

Hey, will this get
my badge back?

Is that what you want?

You mind?

Dorothy: Otis!

Otis: Yes, ma'am?

I'll be right down.

Otis: Yes, ma'am.

You're a long, long way
from tipperary, Dorothy.

Man 1: What is this called?

Man 2: It's called a
Miguel Finn. A Mickey Finn.

Girls, boys, heroin, coke.

I've given it some thought,

and I'd like to fill
out an application.

Not polite.

Maybe because I don't
feel polite this fine evening.

Well, let's have a drink,
talk about it.

You heard about Lynn
Peterson? Tragic thing.

What if I told you that
the police won't touch you

but they're expecting
that I will.

I have nothing to do with
Lynn Peterson or Nico Peterson.

This is Los Angeles.
People are on the make.

Why were they here on the make?

His sister was a corbata
whore with a junk habit.

She worked for you,
you're a pimp.

No, I'm not. I don't control
the place. I'm not the boss.

So, who is?

Dorothy quincannon?

The ambassador?

How little you know,
Mr. Marlowe.

I do know a guy
named Lou Hendricks.

You might know him, too.

His people call my people.

I'm going down
the rabbit hole, Floyd.

I might even take you with me.

Vvewlneed that drink, then.

We can join Lou
Hendricks down below.

Marlowe: Beating you round the
walls doesn't get me much, does it?

Must be the military training.

Huh.

Okay, I'll have that drink.

It's, uh, very difficult

to balance your many obligations

to the various interests of
all the people, powerful people.

Hanson: Discretion is
a thing that we provide.

And you take
protection in return.

Very, very serious
protection, Mr. Marlowe.

Now you will know
the full extent of it.

I appreciate your
difficulties, Mr. Hanson.

It's difficult to run
a whore house

and not have anyone
know it is one.

Especially when you're also
in the narcotics business.

There's an awful lot
you don't understand.

About narcotics?

About management.

Corbata club investors leave
me alone to manage the place.

I don't trouble them
when difficulties arise.

Unless the difficulties are...

How shall we say, hard
for me to deal with alone.

Like the whore
who won't play ball.

The girl or a boy

who aren't as
interested as you'd like.

Or the snoop who's
far too interested.

You give them
a little something...

Are you all right, Mr. Marlowe?

I would've thought you'd be a
man who could hold his liquor.

Seems I was wrong.

As you go to sleep, I
want you to consider...

The whereabouts of Nico
Peterson were never the issue.

It was the whereabouts of
what Nico had in his possession.

We'll get to the bottom of
those issues without your help.

From everything I hear, you
were never a team player.

Never went along to get along.

See where it gets you?

You're dying.

Alone.

I'm gonna get you.

You all right?
Yeah, I'll be here.

Damn.

Cedric: You're awake.

This must be yours.

You didn'tdrink it?

I remembered what happened
to Alice in wonderland

when she bit the mushroom.

You pretended.

And you?

Should've known. Who
offers the wheels a cocktail?

Lou Hendricks?

They're working him
over real bad.

That's him shackled
up inside, I guess?

They'll have him
speaking Greek soon.

Promise you never do that to me.

If I help you out of here...

Will you help me?

Fuck yeah.

Crank up the volume.

Hanson: Two dead
boys from Tijuana.

See where this gets ya?

You're making this
hard for me, Lou.

Much too hard.

What else do you do
for Lou Hendricks?

Too damn much, if you ask me.

Sweet. Oh, righteous.

Hey, we both go in there.

We're both coming
out alive. Yeah?

Agreed, Mr. Marlowe.

Hanson: I'm awfully
sick of this tune.

Where is she?

Joe: Where is who?

The chiquita bitch.

The one that you call Serena.

I already told you,
Nico had his way with...

What do you do with this?

It's just for shaving.

Ear, nose and throatjobs, huh?

I have people
who do that for me.

Oh, do you?
Oh, so do I! So do I!

Frederick! Frederick: Yeah!

Hanson: Give him an ear and
nose and throatjob in that order.

Make him tell us
where Serena is.

Not Serena!

The Serena!

The Serena?

The Serena ornamental
over there.

A plaster mermaid?

Serena's a fuckin' mermaid?

You gotta work on your Spanish!

Hanson!

Say this in Spanish!

Lou: Cedric!

Cedric, catch it!

Lou: Cedric!

Yes, boss.

Was it beyond your capabilities
to save the fucking mermaid?

Sorry, boss.

You just broke
the Hendricks bank!

Sorry, boss.

It'll take you years
to pay me back!

Mr. Hendricks, that's not fair.

As the progeny of
sharecroppers, Cedric,

you should know life isn't fair!

You were right.

Life isn't fair.

I expected to see
grease, didn't you?

Grease and tarantulas.

But instead, he's entirely
made of soft tissue.

Go figure.

Shall we?

Ohls: What will I find inside?

Marlowe: Some dead bodies.

Ohls: How many?

Marlowe: I forgot to count.

Uh, Lou Hendricks,

Floyd hanson,

two gentlemen from Tijuana
and one busted mermaid.

A mermaid?

The Serena ornamental,

packed with Mexican powder.

Now, very wet.

And you are?

I'm his wheels.

Marlowe: So what now, Cedric?

Cedric: We both spilled
some significant blood.

So we should stick together.

I'll be your driver
for the moment.

Marlowe: Cedric,
I have my own wheels.

Cedric: Of course you do.

But consider the parking.

Well, well.

If it isn't Mr. Nico Peterson.

You're not dead.

You're quite the detective.

What do you want?

You've been looking into the
circumstances of my demise.

My determination for sometime

has been that
reports of your death

were greatly exaggerated.

I'll say.

Well, not your sister's.

My half-sister's, from my
father's wild days in acapulco.

So you won't be
spilling any tears?

She is dead, I know.

She did not die pleasantly.

I couldn't help that.

You could help yourself, though.

Well, I happen to have something

everybody wants.

More dope?

Much better than dope.

You are all too much for me.

All I am is a working stiff.

Ineedto get to Clare.

I will do everything in my
power to put you both together

and never see any of you again.

Then give her a message
from me, will you?

Tell her I'll meet her in the
studio prop house, tonight

and I'll have the goods
on the ambassador.

What have you got on him?

Just give her the
message, marlowe.

There's a few things
I want cleared up

before we decide anything.

What do you wanna know?

The body outside
the corbata club.

A musician who worked the club.

Did you kill him? No.

Did you kill him?

Opportune?

He looked like me. I like
people who look like me.

What does Dorothy
quincannon want from you?

Well, maybe she wants to
fuck with the ambassador

who's maybe trying to fuck
her daughter, I don't know.

Put it together, marlowe,
you're the detective.

Everyone wants something
on somebody else. It's all just...

Blackmail in the end.

I'll be in the prop house.

7:30.

Tell her I've got
what she wants.

Clare: I've just realized,

this is my mother's
favorite table.

This is where the ambassador
advises us financially.

You've asked her along?

Yes, I felt I needed
some advice.

Financial? More
like professional.

My, my, my, it's Clare.

What a wonderful surprise,
Mr. Marlowe.

Tea, mother? Dorothy: Scalded.

Let's hope you brew it right.

Dorothy and marlowe:
So a mouse can trot on it.

Marlowe: You know, I've so
enjoyed our separate meetings

that I felt the need
for us all to sit together.

What Mr. Marlowe means, my dear,

is that he thinks he's too
clever for the both of us.

One of you
hired me, the other tried to.

So you both seem to
want the same thing.

Nico left you
for a girl all right.

A plaster mermaid
full of Mexican powder.

That's disgusting.

A subject about which you
claim to know nothing, yes?

Why don't you cut to the chase

and ask her why she hired you?

To find Nico Peterson.

Hiring a detective mightjust
be the best way to suggest

she doesn't know where he is.

What do you think, mother, I'm
keeping him in a shack in rosarito?

Maybe closer.

Why don't you tell Mr. Marlowe
what you want with him?

Perhaps I am trying my best

to save your reputation.

Well, maybe it's the other
way around, mother.

You see, Mr. Marlowe,

her lover dumped her.

The ambassador to england

wants done with tinsel town,

so she's playing the only
role left for her to play,

the femme fatale,
her very own medea.

Oh, well.

It's a role that
awaits us all, my dear.

Dorothy: Well...

You suspected one
of us would do this

but you just didn't know
which one, did you?

I laid a dollar on you.

Mmm.

You've quite
mastered the technique,

haven't you, Mr. Marlowe,

of upsetting the
women in your life?

There are no women in my life.

Well, then, follow her.

She likes older men.

Don't worry.

I'll pay for the
mess, I always do.

Bellhop: Yes, ma'am.

Are you okay?

I don't care that I'm
less than you think I am.

I'm always less than
people think I am.

You're one of those people

who's just lucky to be
more than we think you are.

I'll send you the balance
of what I owe you.

Maybe I can charge your mother,

together with a finder's fee.

A what?

I found him, this afternoon.

Or rather, he found me.

I walked into my little house and
there he was, Mr. Nico Peterson.

Where's he now?

He'll be waiting for you at the
prop house at pacific studios,

7:30 pm.

Why the prop house?

I was hoping you would tell me.

Clare: Taxi!

Clare: Go!

Cedric: "A car is
more than a vehicle,"

Mr. Hendricks used to tell me.

It's a sealed confessional,

a repository of secrets.

And this city,

devoted as it is to the
internal combustion engine,

is a city of motorized secrets.

You're waxing
philosophical, Cedric.

You have to forgive me,
Mr. Marlowe,

it's a habit I inherited
from my late employer.

He had a tendency to digress.

But you did say the prop house?

I did.

And I have to ask myself,

"why the prop house?"

And now you have to tell me,
Cedric, why the prop house?

Cedric: Nico Peterson was
moving Lou Hendricks's product

through the prop house
for years.

Marlowe: And the product
is from Tijuana, right?

Cedric: Hidden in
a plaster raven,

the bust of nefertiti,

a virgin of Guadalupe,

or a Serena ornamental.

You see, Mr. Hitchcock, who could've
worked wonders for pacific pictures,

but is sadly on his way to mgm.

Mr. Hitchcock,
like Mr. Hendricks,

always liked to keep
the script to himself.

But many conversations
overheard from this here front seat,

enabled me to do what Mr. Hitchcock
always managed so adroitly.

To work out the plot.

Cedric: It was never
really about a mermaid.

It was always about the
contents of a certain briefcase,

which could bring
the whole studio down.

Nico: Clare.

Nico.

You're on your own?

Did you want the full
auction house, Nico?

Me, my mother, Floyd
hanson, Lou Hendricks?

That would be difficult,
two of them are dead.

Well, you're gonna have
to start the bidding with me.

What I've got here
is worth a fortune.

Clare: Really?

You better show me, then.

All of the records

of the heroin which was
flowing through his studio.

It's more than enough to ruin
the ambassador's reputation

and the reputation
of pacific pictures.

Cedric: Nico Peterson went
missing with one Serena ornamental

and one handmade briefcase packed
with records of every dope transaction

since he and Lou Hendricks
started business.

He was trying to sell this
information to anyone he could find.

Nico: I'm a bookkeeper,
darling, a good one.

Import, export, I kept
every transaction.

You're more than
a bookkeeper, Nico.

You'd sell tickets
to the gates of hell.

Nico: Maybe that's why
you like me.

I never liked you, Nico.

Do you trust me
that little, Clare?

Clare: You know how
it is these days, Nico,

nobody trusts anyone.

What... what
was that sound, Clare?

My mother's gun. I
found it in her boudoir.

Fuck!

I'm so bad with these.

Why are you doing this?

Clare: You've always
played too low, Nico.

Take a lesson from me
and go straight to the top.

Clare: That's better.

I'm burning your books, Nico.

Is he dead, Mr. Marlowe?

At last.

And that's why you hired me,

so you could finally kill him?

It's one of the reasons.

Has the ambassador paid you off?

I imagine he'll have to,

after this little piece
of spring cleaning.

Tell me why I
shouldn't shop you.

'Cause he was far
too young for me.

'Cause he was evil incarnate.

'Cause he was already dead.

Let me deep-six this.

Use the side door.

Good-bye, Clare cavendish.

Good evening, Mr. Marlowe.

Tell me you didn't
set that fire, marlowe.

No, Bernie, you know
I only put them out.

What do you think
I'll find inside?

The bust of nefertiti, the ark
of the covenant, Maltese falcon.

Nothing more significant?

What more could you want?

Cedric: So, you got
caught in the crossfire

between a mother and a daughter?

Marlowe: Yep,
I never seem to learn.

Cedric: And who wins,
Mr. Marlowe?

The mother or the daughter?

Marlowe: Who would
you put your money on?

Cedric: Well,
the ambassador loses.

Those guys never lose, Cedric,

they just move on.

Mr. Marlowe?

Yeah.

She will see you now.

Thank you.

Mr. Marlowe.

Mrs. Cavendish.

Man: And one more...

So, this was the transaction?

What exactly do you mean?

Man: Thank you.

You saved the ambassador's ass,

he lets you run things.

It's better than the bootlegging
trade, don't you think?

The ambassador's
moved beyond all that.

Your mother's
acting again, I see.

She never stopped.

What's the story?

Oh, you know, like any,

love, murder, reconciliation.

Happy ending?

Mmm...

We're working on that.

So, are you, uh,

going to tell me why
I'm here, Mrs. Cavendish?

The studio needs someone to
play a knight in shining armor.

I saw 10 of those guys outside.

They can only act the part.

So I should say
my good-byes, then.

The studio's all
cleaned up, Mr. Marlowe.

Roosevelt's an inch from
joining the war effort.

The ambassador would like to...

Reward you for your discretion.

The studio will always
need its private detective.

You're offering me a job?

More than a job.

A pension.

Executive in charge of security.

We all have our
secrets, Mr. Marlowe.

Leading men with
their little peccadilloes,

leading ladies
who can't function

without their Mexican tinctures.

We all need someone
to keep us in line.

And your secrets,
Mrs. Cavendish?

You'll have to keep those, too.

Not for me, Mrs. Cavendish.

However, I can
recommend someone.

I'll need references, of course.

He's a friend of mine.

He's very capable.

He's dealt with many
situations in the past.

Very well spoken,

and a great keeper of secrets.

Are you
blackmailing me, Mr. Marlowe?

Blackmail?

I would never.

I leave that to others.

Good day.

Director: Cut! Cut! Cut!

Cut! It's a book burning,
not a funeral! Hey!

They don't like books,

do they, Mr. Marlowe,
those Nazis?

They don't like
many things, Cedric.

Still, that leni riefenstahl makes
some good movies, though.

You really like them,
don't you, motion pictures?

I certainly do, Mr. Marlowe.

Mrs. Cavendish of pacific

might have a position for you.

As chief of security.

That's if you're interested.

Oh, I'd be very
interested, Mr. Marlowe.

I would happily recommend you.

I'd need references, huh?

Only one. Me.

And if you do take the job...

This might come in useful.

Cedric: We've all done
bad things, Mr. Marlowe.

Marlowe: And that gun is a
memento of one very bad thing.

Cedric: So, you mean I
can't shoot anyone with it?

Marlowe: Uh-uh.

Use your Tommy gun for that.

Cedric: That's always an option.