All language subtitles for 23 To Kill a Writer.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en.CBS

♪ ♪

Hiya, doll.

You're so late. I was
afraid you weren't coming.

Dean... What?

I miss you when
you're not around.

I'm sorry. I got hung up.

We'll barbecue at
my dad's place tonight.

With me there? He'll like that.

I told you, Dean.

He's gone fishing up at Crystal.

He won't be back till next week.

But you're sure it's all right

for me to come sneaking
in there while he's out?

Please, Dean.

Look, if you'd rather, we
can all go up to my apartment.

I just thought it'd be more fun.

Oh, some fun. Big pad, stereo,

Dad won't be
back till next week.

Want to take a look at next week

right now, doll?

Maybe he forgot
his fishing tackle.

Sure.

Please, don't go
away. I'll be right back.

Hi, baby.

Hi, Dad.

Got a kiss for your old man?

I thought you said
you weren't... I did.

Believe it or not, rain
washed out the bridge.

I couldn't get to Crystal.

Julie, does my coming
back here spoil your plans?

No, not really.

Well, knowing you,
that means yes.

What was it, a party here, hmm?

Mm-hmm.

I'll tell you what.

I'll bunk at your place
and the joint's yours.

Dwight West, father
and resident angel.

And last week, you
thought I was only a saint.

Oh, no, I knew you
were really an angel.

I just didn't want
you to get stuck up.

I'll shower and clear out.

Oh, I'm not going to ask

if that beach bum friend
of yours will be here.

I'd rather not know.

Daddy, you'd like Dean
if you really knew him.

I know him.

I'm willing to like
him, if you don't.

Baby, I don't want you to
get hung up on a nothing guy.

Stick to your old man
till the right guy shows.

Would you ever admit
there's a right guy?

What's this?

"To whom it may concern."

Well, open it.

You're a whom.

"This is supposed to
be the coward's way out,

"but it's the only
way left to me.

"To those that I love
"and who love me,

"miss me a little,
but not too much.

I'm not worth much, really."

Daddy, what does this mean?

This is a suicide note!

Who wrote it?

I did.

♪ ♪

Mannix, would you come
into my office, please?

I have an interesting
one for you.

Dwight West, the novelist,
just wrote a suicide note.

So? He doesn't
want to kill himself.

♪ ♪

Dean, I'm sorry.

The party, it's off.

Pop put the ice on it, huh?

Didn't want his little girl running
around with a beach bum.

Reading that suicide note was
like reading my own obituary.

I don't mind telling
you I was shook up.

Why, if you wrote it?

It was meant to be fiction.

A character in a story I'm
writing commits suicide.

Somebody pulled that
page out of the manuscript,

probably burnt the rest of
the story and left the page

to indicate I was
going to kill myself.

Who, uh, who knew
about the manuscript,

might have had access to it?

Anybody, everybody.

When I'm working on a
story, it's no state secret.

I talk about it.

My daughter, Julie.

Mr. Mannix from Intertect.

Hello, Julie.

Hi, Mr. Mannix.

Thanks for coming.

Whoever left that note

must have had a
funny sense of humor.

I suppose it could
be a practical

joke... in appalling
taste, I might say.

Tell me, West,
you know of anyone

who'd want to kill you and
make it look like suicide?

That's what's so goofy about it,

and fascinating, too.

I don't have any enemies.

Get down!

Stay down!

What are you doing here?

What's your name?

I said, what's...?

Did you see anybody?

Who do you know
that's about eight feet tall,

almost as broad, with
a scar on his face?

What?

Well, maybe six
and a half feet tall.

It doesn't ring a bell.

Was he, uh, shooting at me?

I don't think so.

Didn't look like the
type for gunplay.

I'd say spine-crushing
would be more in his line.

Oh. No name? Nothing?

You had a gun. Why
didn't you stop him?

He wasn't doing anything.

Daddy, I'm scared.

Oh, no, darling.

You know, I'm getting
hooked on this puzzle.

Say somebody's out to kill me.

I should be able to
figure out who it is.

I've written a dozen
mystery novels,

worked out the
plots logically...

Look, West, you got a place
you could hide out for a while?

Any hotel, but why?

If somebody's after me, I
might find a clue around here,

at least hit on some
idea of who's trying

to get me.

Daddy, please don't
take any chances.

Let Mr. Mannix find the answers.

Yeah. I get paid for it.

Besides, real killers
don't manipulate as easily

as your make-believe characters.

I'll want to reach you later,

so, uh, you better check
in at the Majestic Hotel.

Tell Charley Johnson I sent you.

All right.

I'll register as Phillip Martin.

What'll you be doing?

Waiting for a killer.

Hello, Willie.

Hey, Mannix, you!

I ain't carrying.

Why'd you jump me?

What were you reaching for?

I got a heartburn that
don't know when to stop.

That's illegal?

Breaking and entering is.

Who breaks? Who enters?

Oh, not you, Willie.

You got sent up for
walking in your sleep.

A long time I ain't seen
my friend Dwight West.

It's time, I figure.
I come to visit.

So out of habit, you just
come in through the window.

Come on, Willie, you
can do better than that.

Ask Dwight. Ask him.

Ask him am I a friend.

Do I sneak in so I shouldn't

knock on the door
when he's busy.

How do you know Dwight West?

Something happen
to him? Where is he?

Come on, Willie, you're not
one of his old college classmates.

He was hanging
around night court;

"getting color," he called it.

I just happened to be there.

An innocent visitor?

A bum rap.

So they threw the book at
me, but I didn't deserve it.

Dwight'll tell you.

You tell me, Willie.

We got to talking,
and when I got out

of the cooler, I looked him up.

Since then, we got like
a working arrangement

between friends.

I give him stories, you know,

things like they happened
that didn't get in the paper,

and he slips me a buck or two.

Dwight also gave me a good
recommend to the parole officer.

That ain't chopped liver.

Staying at the Cass
Hotel, huh, Willie?

Mm-hmm.

Well, Dwight ain't here.

There's no reason
for me to hang around.

Sit down, Willie.

Mannix, don't lean on me.

I don't know nothing. Let me go.

Mr. Quinn, can I
talk to you... alone?

Of course, Willie.

Anytime...

during office
hours, 9:00 to 5:00.

Unbreakable rule.

I, uh, will buy you
a drink, though.

No, thanks.

You left in a hurry, Willie.

I got a right.

Who's your large friend?

My lawyer.

Try again.

Orlando Quinn, and
you can go ask him

if he didn't handle my
case last time I was sent up.

Well, now, that's not much
of a recommendation, Willie.

Mannix, you give me a hard time,

and I'll get Mr. Quinn
to sue you for something.

He's big on suits.

Run along, Willie.

I know where to
find you if I need you.

Mr. Quinn?

I'm Joe Mannix,
friend of Willie's.

You keep bad company.

He's your client.

True.

Won't you sit down?

One can't win them all.

Tell me, Quinn, uh,
do you eat here often?

Why?

Well, uh, Willie knew exactly
where to find you and, uh,

you do seem to
get special service.

Do you mind?

Hmm.

Thank you.

Point A, questions and
answers supplied by deduction.

Point B, a city detective

couldn't afford to
dress as well as you do.

Point C, I'm private.

Intertect.

A reputable company.

You really a friend of Willie's?

Well, I know him.

Says he's a friend of a friend,
somebody who lives here

at the beach.

Dwight West.

Another client?

I handle only criminal cases.

A need exists.

As Anatole France once said,

"The law, in its
majestic equality,

"forbids the rich
as well as the poor

to sleep under bridges,
to beg in the streets."

"To sleep under bridges, to beg
in the streets, and to steal bread."

Now, about Dwight
West... A good writer.

Not as good as
Anatole France, but...

And he soon may be as dead.

Go on.

Somebody is trying to kill him.

Improbable, so doubtless true.

He's not a client?

Friend?

Let's say an acquaintance.

We amuse each other.

I provide research,
you might say.

You and Willie.

Tell me, uh, any other mutual
friends who share an interesting

crime with West?

Well, there may be others,

but only one comes
to mind, Nikki Jason.

Who's he?

He?

Just a minute.

I'm Mannix from Intertect.

Nikki Jason.

Quinn sent you up?

Well, he mentioned your
friendship with Dwight West.

You're a detective.

Hmm...

Do you always talk
about your clients?

Not usually.

I don't talk about my friends.

I'm working for West.

If he tells me so.

Mind if I use your phone?

Be my guest.

Would a, uh, word
from him be sufficient,

or would you prefer a
notarized statement?

Um, room clerk, please.

Charley, Mannix here.

A friend of mine check in?

Yeah, that's right.
I'd like to talk to him.

When'd he check out?

Yeah, thanks.

I know.

You were sure he was there,
you just happened to miss him.

Meanwhile, he'll be in touch
and tell me everything's okay.

So why don't I
take it for granted?

Sure, baby.

Do me a favor, will you?

If you hear from him,
have him call my office.

Wait a minute.

Is West in trouble?

You seem worried.

Just runs in my family.

I've got an uncle
in the hospital,

worried about a heart attack

every day of his
life until he was 97.

He finally had one.

Broke his leg last week.

Tripped, walking down the
aisle of a burlesque house.

Any hints you could give us

as to where he might
have gone would be helpful.

Mr. Wickersham, my father
is stubborn and wonderful

and unpredictable.

I just don't know.

But I'm scared.

Hey, relax, baby.

You're hurting
before you're hit.

Yes?

Thank you.

I'm afraid we, uh, may
have located Mr. West.

Where?

Well, say it, man. I
can guess where he is.

In the morgue.

Come on, doll, be a big girl.

I... I can't.

It's not your father, Julie.

What?

It's Willie Lang.

How was the identification
made, Newman?

Routine preliminary on the basis
of pocket contents and clothing.

West's coat.

Stolen?

Willie'll never tell.

Guess I'll have to ask West...

if I ever find him.

How about that?

Nice reception?

Are you having fun?

You can laugh all the
way to Willie Lang's funeral.

Poor Willie.

How did it happen?

He came by to
see you last night.

His next known
stop was the morgue,

the price of admission
was a broken back.

It was supposed to
look like an accident.

Now who'd murder Willie?

Does Julie know you're here? No.

Well, my last bit of advice
before I retire from the case...

Call her.

Why?

Because she worries.

You could have been dead.

She didn't know you
were coming back

to play with a tape
recorder and a stuffed gorilla.

Good-bye.

Now, Mannix, wait!

Now, you know that, uh...

remote-control gadget
that changes TV channels

when you press a button?

Yeah.

Well, I've rewired the
channel-change gadget

in back of the set.

The remote's outside, in a
tree, pointed towards the set.

Now, if anybody walks in
front of it, the channel changes.

Well, it worked, didn't it?

Did you, uh, give Willie
Lang some of your clothes?

Yeah.

They looked real good on him.

Mannix here. Get me Wickersham.

Hey, Lou, West is here at home.

Yeah, and, uh, you'd better send
over somebody to play nursemaid.

Swanson would be fine, yeah.

Oh, and, uh, tell him not

to pay any
attention to a gorilla.

Never mind. I'll
check with you later.

You know, I met
some of your friends...

The late Willie Lang, a
lawyer named Quinn...

They've got no connection
with the attempt on my life.

My writing is based
on factual material.

I got research from
Quinn and Lang.

I also spoke to a young lady,
a very interesting young lady.

Nikki Jason.

Hmm, I guess you could
call her research, too.

Now believe me, she's
got no possible connection

with the murder.

Stay out of sight.

Did you see anyone on
this path a minute ago?

I don't know, did I?

Did you see anyone?

Maybe I wasn't looking.

Look, Devlin... Cool it.

I didn't see anybody.

There's no way you could
have missed anyone on this path.

If you say so.

That means there was
nobody on the path.

Right, Dad?

The label says
"Danger... poison gas."

Yeah, well I didn't figure
he'd be pumping perfume

through your air conditioning.

I didn't touch it.

Fingerprints might turn up.

They will.

Mine.

I didn't have time
to use gloves.

Run this through the lab.
When you get a report,

try and find out who sold
it and who bought it, huh?

Quantitative or
qualitative analysis?

Just find out who
put it out, Hayden.

All right.

We'll check it out,
but that's a long shot.

Nobody'd leave
that obvious a trail.

It'll give the computers
something to do,

keep them off the streets.

Did you turn up
anything on Quinn?

I have an appointment with
him in an hour and a half.

I'm assembling some ammunition.

Want to come
along? I'll meet you.

Willie Lang's killing is the
closest thing I've got to a lead.

I want to find out
what the police have.

The police came up empty.

They questioned the
man he shared a room with,

but he said he hadn't seen
Willie since early in the evening.

I'll just skip the police.

And check the roommate, right?

Well, wouldn't you
like to know his name?

His name is Starkey. Room 307.

Thanks.

Hello.

Yeah, this is Pete.

Yeah, a guy just
went up to see Starkey.

About 35, tall.

Whatever you're
sellin' I don't want.

You bucking for one less leg?

I might be the law.

Show me papers.

I might be... I'm not.

It takes less energy to talk.

I used up all my
talk with the cops!

I got nothing to say.

Reconsider.

You want to know about Willie.

This buys all I know.

He was a nice fella.

Now good-bye.

Try harder!

More green stuff.

More talk.

Now what are you
holding back on me?

All right, all right.

A guy don't try, he don't get.

I ain't living like a king.

Willie ain't living!

What route was he
going? Who did he cross?

He wouldn't hurt a fly.

How'd he make his buck?

You ain't gonna believe this.

He was straight.

He'd run errands, hustle pool,

maybe take a bet for a bookie.

Nothing. He went honest.

You don't collect a
bullet for being honest.

Willie was all Boy Scout.

The night he caught it, he
told me he was going out

to take a friend off the hook.

Put a name to that friend.

You defended Willie Lang.

What was the charge?

Well, let's just hold that
in abeyance for a moment.

I'd like to make a stipulation.

Now, you're an intelligent
man, Mr. Wickersham.

You're an excellent detective,
you have a law degree.

You would undoubtedly

have made an
outstanding attorney

if you had chosen to practice.

Now, to save time,

would you concede that
I'm not an absolute dolt?

So stipulated.

Then how do you expect me

to believe that you haven't at
least done elementary homework?

Yes.

Have him wait.

Your associate.

Now, public records

in the courthouse would tell you

where poor Willie went astray.

He was found guilty of
breaking and entering

Nikki Jason's apartment.

Now, last night, you
said she was your client.

Well, actually we met when
she was a prosecution witness.

She was so impressed
with my cross-examination,

she later came to me

when she had a subsequent
minor difference with the law.

What and when?

Privileged.

She wasn't booked.
She has no record.

Willie's been murdered.

We'd like to prevent Dwight
West from joining the list.

Now, I'm fairly sure you've
bent ethics in the past

in a less worthy cause.

Get out!

You've been appointed neither
judge nor keeper of my ethics.

You're right. I'm
sorry. I was out of line.

Your apology is not accepted.

Cheap words quickly
said and at no cost!

Good day, sir!

I got what for.

No luck, huh?

This is not my day.

The deceased:
Starkey, William, age 38.

Height: six-foot two.

Hayden... Weight: 250...

Hayden, his statistics
aren't vital anymore.

Police record in Kansas City:

armed assault.

Chicago: burglary.
Gary: suspicion of murder.

New York... Yeah, I'm with you.

Quinn represented Nikki Jason

when she was pulled
in on suspicion of bunco.

Anything else on her?

Right. Thanks, Pat.

I'll do as much
for you sometime.

She's clean on the bunco.

The only other police
contact was several years ago

when a girl she roomed
with was murdered.

The case made quite a
splash, but was never solved.

You probably remember...

The papers called it the
"Scarlet Venus Murder."

I followed that case.

Terrible. Poor girl, so pretty.

That was about,
uh... six years ago.

Willie Lang burgled
Nikki Jason's apartment.

When was that?

Six years ago last September.

Are you calling West?

Right.

The line's busy.

Want to bet West's new book
is based on the Scarlet Venus?

Got anything else, Hayden?

Montoya claimed that the
girl was going to marry him.

He was released
for lack of evidence.

Where is Montoya now?

Montoya?

You still living in
the mountains?

Yeah, wherever you say.

Sure, two hours is fine.

I left a note for Mannix.

You're not supposed
to go out, Mr. West.

I'll be back.

Let me check with the office.

Now there's no answer.

I thought you assigned
Swanson to stay with West.

I did. He is... or was.

Well, maybe you
should have assigned

someone to stay with Swanson!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

See for yourself. Empty.

She packed everything
and was gone by noon.

You're welcome to look around.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

This is Nikki Jason speaking.

If you leave a message,
it will be recorded.

Please speak into the phone
after you hear the double tone.

Thank you.

Nikki, I've got to talk to
you. This is Dean Devlin.

Call me.

Swanson... Ooh...
Are you all right?

I really caught one.

Where's West?

He could be the one
that clobbered me.

Maybe your old man's gone ape.

He ducked out.

I followed. Pow! That's it.

Gee, I never figured your
pop to be such a swinger.

Shut up, Dean!

Did you see who hit you?

No.

Hello.

Yes, Mannix?

Yeah, I'm at West's. He's gone.

Swanson got slugged.

Lou, can you get me a fix

on the daughter's
boyfriend, Dean Devlin?

Yeah, he's right here.

Hold on.

You left a message
for Nikki Jason.

Why was it so important
for you to see her?

Just wanted to see if she
read any good books lately.

Who's Nikki Jason?

It's a friend of your
father's. I met her

through him. Why
did you call her?

I got my reasons.

That answer your question?

Dean is being very cute, Joe.

Oh. West left a note
for Mannix, over there.

Now, hold on, there's
a message here.

"Mannix,

"I think I know
who's gunning for me.

"There are just a
couple of loose ends,

"and they'll be tied together

"by the time I meet
Montoya this afternoon

at the observatory.
Dwight West."

Why are you following me?

I'm looking for Dwight West.

You came to my cabin.

You're one of them.

One of whom?

She was good.

And you killed her,
you and the rest.

Who else, Montoya?

Hey!

Nobody's allowed up there!

Did you find Montoya?

Yeah, and lost him.

He's gone berserk.

Did West meet him?

I don't know.

Montoya could kill him,

or anybody else
connected with this case.

I've got men covering
some of the people,

but we'll try to find West.

Yeah, and I'll try
and find Montoya,

and as long as
he's running loose,

you'd better warn the others.

Right. Good luck, Joe.

Yeah. If I find
him, I'll need it.

I've contacted the agent

tailing Dean Devlin,
Mr. Wickersham.

Wickersham. Where's Devlin?

You're supposed to be
good enough to stick with him.

Find him. If you need
any help, you can have it.

Keep in touch.

Who's the man assigned
to Orlando Quinn?

Greaves, sir.

I can't contact him.

Try harder!

It's not li... Greaves, sir.

What about Quinn?

Not in his office
and not expected.

I tried his home, but he's
never there during the day.

They'll leave us alone.

I promise.

Montoya!

I only want to talk to you!

Liar!

I don't know anything
about your girl!

You killed her.

All of you!

I'll get you... the
way I got Willie.

The way I'll get... all of you.

Mr. Mannix.

Join me.

I'm waiting for Dwight West.

Why?

Must one have a reason
to wait for one's friends?

What's yours?

Trying to keep him alive.

You know, a man named
Montoya killed Willie Lang yesterday.

Six years after he accidentally

found out something

while burgling an apartment.

Mannix here. Get me Wickersham.

Well, when you find him,
tell him Montoya is dead.

But he did talk. He said...

Look, I'll call
you in two hours.

Your gun, Mr. Mannix.

On the table.

Carefully.

Good boy.

Now... What did
Montoya talk about,

Mr. Mannix?

You, Mr. Quinn.

I'm not sure I believe you.

If you don't believe
me, why the gun?

What did he say?

"'Twas brillig and
the slithy toves

did..."

Behave yourself.

Montoya didn't know you
killed the Scarlet Venus.

That's hardly news, Mr. Mannix.

He would have throttled
anyone he even thought

would hurt that girl.

I think you should sit

where I can more
comfortably watch you

while we continue
our discussion.

I told Montoya
that you killed her.

You have a taste for fantasy.

Fact, Mr. Quinn.

Somebody wanted
to get rid of Willie Lang

and West.

Montoya was the loaded gun.

You pulled the trigger.

You could change jobs with West.

Your talent for fiction
at least equals his.

West and I both
hit on the answer.

He was writing a book
about the Scarlet Venus.

He had to solve the crime

before he could finish the book.

You knew you'd be marked
the minute he finished that book.

If any part of that were true,

I'd find it necessary
to eliminate you,

as well as West.

You'd better take a
look at the telephone.

Remember what I
said on the phone?

"I'll call you in two
hours." That's code.

The switchboard
operator hooks up a tape,

records and then
the call is traced.

Everything we've
said is on tape.

Shut up.

Oh, you could kill me,

but you'd never
get away with it.

You're a smart lawyer, Quinn.

Your best bet is to try and
beat the Scarlet Venus case.

Now, why don't you
put away that gun?

You haven't got a chance, Quinn.

The police are moving
in on this house.

Don't you think
you'd be better off

pleading you killed the girl
while temporarily insane?

Insane?

She said she loved me.

I'm not a lovable man.

I'm not the handsomest man.

But I believed her.

Don't move!

I won't stand trial.

I won't be laughed at.

Not by you, not by anyone.

And certainly not
by the girl you killed.

I'm afraid you're
too late, Quinn.

I shouldn't have believed you.

Code... Recording... Nonsense.

I thought I... I was
a... clever man.

Once I thought...
I was a... lovable...

man... Two... fatal mistakes.

I'll call in.

Your father's in no more danger.

Joe?

Get me Lieutenant
Jacobsen, Homicide.

West is on his way.

He called, asked
us to meet him here.

Meet him?

Mannix, I solved the case.

I was going to be killed

because I inadvertently
pointed to the murderer

in the plot of my new
book about Scarlet Venus.

I just got the last bit of
information I needed from

Nikki here. Yeah.

Now I know who the killer is.

It's that beach
bum, Dean Devlin.

You may be right.

Why don't you check
it out with Quinn?

Daddy.

Oh, Daddy.

I don't know what
I'm doing here.

Do you?

Going to meet your
uncle at the hospital?

I'd like to meet him.