All language subtitles for The.Thirteenth.Hour.1947.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

Downloaded from
YTS.MX

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

I am the Whistler,

and I know many strange tales,

many secrets hidden
in the hearts of men and women

who have stepped
into the shadows.

Tonight, I am keeping
a strange rendezvous.

This man is a human derelict.

Broke, discouraged,
unable to hold a job

because of ill health.

His name is Lee Selfridge Nugent.

I knew him in better days,

when he possessed money,
power, influence.

But fate decreed that those
material things should slip away,

and that I, the Whistler,
should find him tonight,

alone in a strange city,
on this park bench.

What can the future hold
for a man like this?

Ironic, isn't it?

These people all have money
in the bank, waiting for them,

yet, for some reason,
they do not come to claim it.

Coincidence.
That's all it is.

You're not the Lee Nugent
they're looking for.

You are Lee Selfridge Nugent.

Your mother's name
was Mary, not Stella.

Forget about it.

Desperation prompts this man

to think that he can compromise
with his conscience.

We shall see how he fares.

Strike him out, Herman!
He can't touch us! Strike him out!

It's a great game, isn't it?

Nah, it's awful.

Wish I could get in there.
I'd show 'em!

I'll bet you would.

Do you watch 'em
play every day?

Sure. Except on the days
when I have to go to the clinic.

Gee, thanks!

Herman!

That's Herman.

-That was a good throw.
-Thanks.

You know something?

At the clinic yesterday,
a lady from Australia

told me that, maybe next year,
I could walk.

And, after that,
maybe, if I exercised right,

I could even play ball.

-Say, wouldn't that be somethin'?
-I'll say!

Say, where did the kids play ball
before the building was torn down?

What building?

Wasn't there a building on this lot?

No.
It's always been just a lot.

Oh.

Well, goodbye, son.

You're gonna be
a great ball player some day.

Thanks.

Come on, Herman!
Give him another fast one!

Come on!

Good morning.

If you're lookin' for a vacancy,
there ain't any.

If you're sellin' something,
I won't buy it.

And if you're beggin',
you can just run along.

There's plenty of work
for those that want it.

I was wondering about
that vacant lot.

How long was that building
torn down that was on it?

Wasn't torn down, it burned down.

Burned down, huh?
How long ago was that?

Oh, long before
I moved in this block,

and I've lived here
for twenty years.

Say, you ain't one of them
carnival fellas that's plannin'

on puttin' one of them noisy
merry-go-rounds on that lot, are ya?

I warn ya, I won't stand for it.

I had the police
on the last one that tried it.

Madam, I assure you,
I'm not interested

in putting a merry-go-round
on that lot.

But I am considering it
for a shooting gallery.

-Nice dog you got here.
-Yeah.

Mike's a swell dog.
Intelligent, too.

Yeah? Hello, Mike.

You know, he knows
quicker than we do

when our number
comes on the alarm bell.

Then he beats the men
to his place on the hook-and-ladder.

-Yeah.
-Hiya, Mike.

Any big fires lately?

No. Been kinda dull lately.

Last big one was that
Acme Warehouse fire, about a year ago.

They tell me you had
a big one, a real big one,

down here some time ago.

Read Street, apartment building.
It's probably before your time.

Oh, no. I remember it
just like it was yesterday.

Yeah?

-Seven people died in that fire.
-Seven?

Yeah. Three of 'em missed the net
when they jumped from the sixth floor.

Awful mess.

Read Street? That used to be
a fashionable neighbourhood.

Not tenements, like it is now.

Oh, well, you know.
Time changes neighbourhoods.

How long ago was that, exactly?

I never forget a big one.

That was October.
Early October, 1912.

-Long ago as that, huh?
-Yup.

I was sittin' right here,
in front of the old firehouse,

just as I am now,
readin' the political news

when the alarm came in.

That was the year that, er...

Woodrow Wilson, Bill Taft
and Teddy Roosevelt

were all havin'
a battle royal for President.

The Democratic jackass outrun
Taft's elephant and Teddy's bull moose,

and Wilson was elected.

Doggonest political fight you ever saw.

Reckon you don't remember
much about that campaign, do ya?

1912?

Well, I was just a boy
at the time. Er...

Twelve years old,
to be exact.

Yeah, I...
I was just twelve years old.

That's the file of the Daily Register
for October 1912.

-I hope it helps you.
-I hope so.

Did you find what you wanted?

Exactly what I wanted.
Thank you.

I hardly think I can help you
locate Lee Nugent.

Our records show
he was placed in a private home,

six months after the death
of his mother and sister.

Have you the name and address
of the people who gave him a home?

Yes, I do.

A Mr and Mrs Henry Carlson.

They lived at 1 1816
Runnymede Street,

but this information
is of little value.

Lee ran away from home,
the Carlson home, in 1915,

and hasn't been heard of since.

Mr and Mrs Carlson
died some years ago.

I see.

About Lee's father...

Have you any information
regarding him?

Only that he and Mrs Nugent
were separated,

and an effort was made
to find them in 1912,

when the boy became
a ward of this society.

Er... There is a notation here
that he was reported to be

somewhere in South America
at the time.

I'm sorry I can't give you
any more information.

Well, you've been very kind.

-Thank you very much.
-You're quite welcome.

You want somethin', brother?

Depends on how much
of a gambler you are.

I never gamble.

If it's a suit you want,
I can sell it to you cheap.

-But for cash.
-Oh, I haven't any cash at the moment.

Then come back
the moment you have it.

Well, that won't do. I have to
have a suit in order to get the cash.

-Let me show you something.
-If it ain't cash,

-I don't wanna look at it.
-Yeah, but look this over.

This is good for cash.
Maybe a lot of it. Now, look.

All I see is a piece of
old newspaper,

and for that you'll get
no suit in this store.

Now, do me a favour,
and go away.

Okay, if you're not interested
in making a hundred percent profit

on a very small investment,
I'll find somebody who is.

Wait a minute, brother.

Did you say,
"a hundred percent"?

Yes.

On, er...
how small an investment?

The price of a suit, and
enough money for food and lodging

in a cheap hotel, until I can
claim a dormant account

that's waiting for me
at the Standard Savings Bank.

Here, look...

Here's my name on the list
in their advertisement.

-Mm-hmm.
-You can't lose.

How do I know
you are Lee Nugent?

The government says I am.

Here's my social security card.

-See?
-Mmm.

The whole gamble amounts to
about sixty dollars.

Twenty dollars for the suit,
and the balance for...

for expenses,
until I claim the account.

Mm-hmm.

What if there ain't
sixty dollars in the account?

Oh, but there's sure to be.
It says right there

that every account's
over a hundred dollars.

Come on, give me a suit
and forty dollars in cash,

and I'll get a cheap hotel room.

Oh, no.

You'll take no
forty bucks of mine.

If I'm going into this thing,
I gotta protect my investment.

In a hotel, I might not find you
when you get the money.

If you get it.

I got an apartment upstairs.

You'll move in with me.

Then, if you don't get the money,
you give me back my suit,

and all I'm out's
the food you eat while you're here.

That's my final proposition.
Take it or leave it, brother.

You're a shrewd trader,
but it's a deal.

You goin' somewhere?

-Yeah, to mail a letter.
-I'll go with ya.

Oh, yes, good idea.

Er... You-You can keep
an eye on your suit.

I haven't any money
for a postage stamp.

Oh, you can get me a packet
of cigarettes, too, huh?

I'll be with you in a minute.

Okay, brother, I'm ready.

-Good morning, Mr Sorsby.
-Good morning. Got a letter for me?

No, there's one here
for a man named Lee Nugent,

in care of you.
Er... Do you know him?

Yeah, he-he's staying
with me for a while.

-I'll see that he gets it.
-Oh, okay.

A letter came for ya.

Put it on the table in the living room.
I'll get it later.

Listen, brother, how come
you get mail at my place

and I only met you yesterday?

Well, it could be that
I told some friends of mine

-that I'd be stopping here with you.
-What friends?

You ain't talked to nobody
since we made our deal.

-Oh, that was before I met you.
-Before you met...

Sure, I knew that we'd
shake a deal.

You got a reputation
in the neighbourhood, you know,

of always being willing to spend
a dollar in order to make two.

Yeah?
Well, get this straight, Nugent.

I don't trust ya, and I'm
protectin' my investment.

When you walk outta here
with that suit of mine

to go to the bank,
I'm going right along with it.

Good idea. We'll all three go.
You, me, and the suit.

Only when we get to the bank,

I'll have to ask you
to wait outside. You're, er...

You're not exactly
the prepossessing type, you know.

Well, this is as far as you go.

Well, why can't I wait
just outside the bank?

Say, listen,

it's gonna be tough enough for me
to convince them that I'm Lee Nugent

without you hangin' around
to spoil everything.

But I can identify ya.
I'm a legitimate businessman.

You're staying at my apartment.

If I go in with you,
it'll help your claim.

Now, play it my way if you
want double your money back.

Okay. But I'll be watching
that bank door every minute.

Fill this out and take it
to window number three.

Thank you.

I'd like to enquire about the
dormant accounts you're advertising.

Right over at that desk, sir.
Mr Simmons will take care of you.

Thank you.

Take those drafts upstairs
and check on those other accounts.

I'll call you later.

-Mr Simmons?
-Yes. May I help you?

I think you can. I'm...
I'm Lee Nugent.

Come in, Mr Nugent.

Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

I presume you're here
to discuss the dormant account

listed in our advertisement?

Well, that's the general idea.

Naturally, we will require proof

that you are the beneficiary
named in the account.

-Mm-hmm.
-Have you any identification?

Well, some. I have, er...

Oh, I have my social security card,
and, er...

here's a pawn ticket
for a ring, and, er...

a letter from a friend of mine.

But haven't you anything more?

We can't turn over
a sum of money to you

merely on the strength
of a letter,

a pawn ticket,
and a social security card.

No, I...
Have you any suggestions?

I'll get the file on the account.

It may take a few moments.

Is Mr Simmons
taking care of you all right?

Oh, yes. Everything's fine.
He's...

-gone to get some papers.
-I see.

You're not leaving, Mr Nugent?

Oh, I... I was just
curious about that siren.

Oh, an ambulance.

Yes, they go by the bank
quite often.

There's a hospital
a few blocks up the street.

Er, Mr Nugent...

Have you anyone
to vouch for you?

Someone of standing
whom you've known for some time?

I'm afraid I haven't.

Certainly someone must have
known you over a period of years?

Well, I can't think of anyone.

See, I ran away from home
when I was only fifteen.

I didn't have much of an education.
Had to take any job that came along.

Won't you sit down?

What kind of jobs?

Anything to make a living.

Harvesting in Kansas,
lumbering in the North Woods.

worked on a construction gang,
even down at the docks now and then.

I'm what I guess
you'd call a floater.

When a fellow's a floater, he...

well, he really hasn't got a name.

I almost forgot
what my last name was.

People just called me "Lee",
and let it go at that.

I see.

You say this letter
is from a friend of yours.

-Mind if I read it?
-Oh, please do. I...

Afraid it won't be of much help.
He was a floater, like myself.

Only difference was,
he had a college education.

Told me he was going to
write a book sometime.

Always packed
a portable typewriter with him.

"Slim."
What's the man's last name?

Well, I don't know and,
to tell you the truth,

he never told me.

This letter's absolutely worthless
for identification.

I was afraid it
wouldn't be much help.

You say you ran away from home
when you were fifteen. Why?

Were your parents cruel to you?

Oh, I wasn't living with
my parents at the time.

I was living with some people
by the name of Carlson.

I remember they lived
on Runnymede Street.

Where were your parents?

Well, my mother and sister
were killed in a fire.

I don't know where my dad was.

My mother and father
weren't living together.

It seems to me
as though I remember

my mother said something
about his being in...

-South America.
-When were you born?

Well, I can't tell you that exactly.

I suppose my mother told me,
but kids forget things.

I was, er... twelve years old
at the time of the fire.

-When was that?
-In October 1912.

Where was this house of yours?
You say it burned down.

Oh, it wasn't a house.
It was an apartment building.

295 Read Street.

Oh, I remember it very vividly.

I had to jump from the sixth floor.

A thing like that
sticks with a fella.

I can readily see how it would.

You say your younger sister
died in the fire?

Well, she wasn't younger.

She was three years older
than I am.

And I suppose
you remember her name?

Sure, sure. Dorothy.

How long have you known about
the existence of this file?

Well, only since yesterday.

It was strictly accidental.
I happened to see your ad,

and I thought,
"well, isn't that queer,

"that the bank are trying to
find people to give money to?"

Then I saw my mother's name,
and mine.

You were very fortunate.

You mean I get the money?

Not yet.

Naturally, the bank will have to
conduct an investigation.

Naturally, but, er...

how soon do I get it?

You'll be notified within five days.

I take it this is your
correct mailing address?

Yes, that's...

correct. How much money
is there in the account?

I'm not permitted
to disclose the amount

until the investigation is completed.

Well, that doesn't tell me
very much, does it?

Not much.
You'll just have to be patient.

Good day, Mr Nugent.

Good day.

You get all fixed up, sir?

Yes, thank you.

Er... Do you own one of
those dormant accounts?

-Well, yes. What about it?
-Oh, nothing.

I'm just curious
to know why anybody

would leave money laying in a bank
for twenty years without claiming it.

Well, I'm curious about that, too.

Did you get it?
Did they give you the money?

Not yet.
They want five days to investigate.

-Did you say five days?
-Oh, don't worry. I'll get it.

I gave 'em all the right answers.

Maybe so, but I gotta
board ya for five days.

Don't forget,
it goes on your bill.

-Hello, Mr Sorsby.
-Mmm.

Quite a stack of mail this morning.

Bills, mostly.
First of the month.

Mr Nugent?

Ah. It's here.

A letter from the bank came.

Open it,
and see how much you get,

after I get mine.

How much?

Doesn't say.

They want me to
call at the bank again.

Probably to ask me
some more questions.

Oh.

-Oh, it's you.
-Naturally.

Well, this is your
observation post.

Yeah. And don't forget
I'm a very observant guy.

I'll be in on the pay-off.

Good morning.
I see you came back.

Mm-hmm.

Morning.

Oh, Mr Nugent. Come right in.

You didn't lose any time
getting here, did you?

Do you know any reason
why I should lose time?

No reason at all.

Do you wish to leave the money
in the bank, or take it out?

-It's okay?
-Yes.

The bank has decided
that the money is rightfully yours.

How much?

Twenty-nine thousand and ten dollars,
including accrued interest.

I presume you'll want to
open a checking account?

I'll, er, take it with me.

-Very well. I'll have a cheque raised.
-I want it in cash.

All right, if you insist.
I'll get the money.

It'll take a few moments.

Don't go away.

What did he mean,
when he told you not to go away?

Will he come back with the money,
or a detective?

Everybody in the place
seems to be staring at you, waiting.

It's still not too late
to change your mind.

Well, Mr Nugent, I guess
this is a big day in your life.

Everybody in the place
is talking about it.

-Really?
-Yes, sir.

This, er...
This is our standard release.

Um...

-You seem nervous.
-Well, I am, a little.

Twenty-nine thousand dollars is
a lot of money for a fella that's broke.

Twenty-nine thousand dollars
is a lot of money, period.

Sign here, please.

The real Lee Nugent
had no middle name.

Is it too late? Did Mr Simmons
see you make your first mistake?

-I've blotted it.
-So I see.

Perhaps you'd better
use another blank.

There you are.

There you are, Mr Nugent.

Um...

You'll find, er... twenty-eight
one-thousand-dollar bills

and the balance
in smaller denominations.

-Better count it.
-I trust you.

Oh, er...

Take my advice
and put most of that money

in a safe place
as quickly as possible.

I will. Thank you, Mr Simmons,
and good day.

-Good day.
-Thank you.

Bye, Mr Nugent. And good luck.

-Thank you.
-That's our man.

Hold it, Mr Nugent!
We wanna picture!

Don't be so bashful.
Give us a big smile.

Hey! Gimme that!

-Come on. Gimme that camera.
-Oh, no, you don't. Beat it!

Okay, what's the idea
of taking my picture?

Because you're Lee Nugent
and you've just come into a big fortune.

That's news,
and I want a story.

I'm Pat Henley of the Daily Register.

How does it feel to be so rich?

-Well...
-Okay, so I'll print my own story.

"Rags to Riches."
With pictures!

Read all about yourself
in the afternoon edition.

I saw ya duck behind your hat.

-Were you trying to shake me?
-No, don't be silly.

I was trying to get rid of
that girl reporter and her photographer.

Oh, no kiddin'?

Well, why didn't you hold 'em here
until I could get in the picture?

After all, I'm your financial backer.

Hey, did you get the money?

-Yeah, I got it.
-How much?

-Considerable.
-Oh, how much?

There's a hundred dollars.
I guess that squares us.

Hundred doll...

Well, Lee Nugent,
you're an honest man.

That's why I trusted ya.

There was never a suspicion.

Er... Tonight, we'll celebrate, huh?

-Nah.
-I know just the place to go.

No celebration.
Our little transaction's ended.

This is where we split up.

Oh, ain't you comin' back
to get your things?

-What things?
-Oh, that's right. I forgot.

You ain't got no things.

Well, so long.

Goodbye.

Hey, guess I kinda ruined
your stock in trade, didn't I?

Oh, you couldn't help it,
Mr Nugent.

How'd you know my name?

I heard the lady calling you
Lee Nugent,

and so did the gentleman
that just left.

That's right. I guess
I'm a little bit jittery.

Hey, are you
scared of something?

What makes you think
I'm scared?

I've been carrying this tray
around the streets for a lot of years.

I study people's faces.

I generally know
when they're scared.

Well, this time you're wrong.

I haven't a thing in the world
to worry about. Not a thing.

Wonderful feeling. Say, here...

Here's, er...

ten dollars, for any of
the damage I might have done.

Gee, thanks, Mr Nugent.

-Thanks very much!
-Say, tell me, er...

What's the best hotel in this town?

Why, er...

The Ramsey Arms
over on Shoreham Avenue.

Where can a guy get
a couple of good suits?

You can't beat the Edward's shop
on Fifth Street.

I see. Thanks.
Say, w-what's your name?

Just plain "Smith".

Most people call me "Limpy",

on account of my game leg.

Well, good luck, Limpy.

Thanks, Mr Nugent.

I'll take this suit, too.

That's three altogether.

Can you make the alterations
and have them over to the hotel

by five o'clock this afternoon?

We can have one ready for you
and deliver the others tomorrow.

That's fine.

-Your name, please?
-Er... Selfridge.

-First name or initial?
-L.

"L. Selfridge."

-Your address?
-Ramsey Arms Hotel.

-"Ramsey Arms Hotel."
-Mm-hmm.

Thank you very much.

Paper!
Daily Register paper!

Thank you. Paper!

Get your paper here!
Daily Register paper.

Hello, Mr Donnelly.

Thank you, sir.

Paper!
Daily Register paper!

Get your paper, madam.
Paper! Paper!

Daily Register paper, sir.
Paper!

Nugent's in town.

Yeah?

How do you know?
Did you see him?

No, not yet.

But I will.

His picture's in the paper.

Which one?

This one, not the street peddler.

Yeah? Well, whaddaya know?

I know I'm gonna kill him.

How are you gonna find him?

Says here he didn't even
go back to the place he was staying

after he got the money.

I'll find him, all right.

What would you do
if you suddenly fell heir

to thirty thousand dollars?

Me?

I'd get myself
some swell clothes,

stay at the best hotels in town,

really have myself a time.

That's right.

Even you can figure that out.

Come in.

Here's the wine you ordered,
Mr Selfridge.

-Where would you like it?
-Just put it down.

-And open it, will you, please?
-Yes, sir.

-I brought you an evening paper, too.
-Oh, thank you.

There's a story in there
about a lucky stiff

who got thirty thousand bucks
that he didn't even know he owned,

until he read the ad
in the paper.

-Certainly was lucky.
-Yeah.

He was just a drifter.
Didn't have a dime.

Something like that
should happen to me!

Would you care to pay for
the check, Mr Selfridge, or sign it?

No, I...
I'm a pay-as-you-go man.

-Oh.
-It's all right. Keep the change.

Thank you, sir.
Thank you very much.

What's the name of
a good nightclub in this town,

where the food is perfect,
and the...

well, the entertainment
isn't too bad.

Oh, that's easy.

The Club Royale is the spot
for a man who likes the best.

Fine. I'll try it.

You're feeling
pretty confident, aren't you, Lee?

You're almost convinced that
nobody will recognise you

from that picture in the paper.

Seems like a toast
to doubtful security.

Let me speak to Eddie Donnelly.

Hello, Donnelly?

This is Sellers, bell captain
at the Ramsey Arms.

That party you were asking about
checked in here this afternoon.

Yes?

-Are you sure?
-Positive.

He registered as "L. Selfridge".

He's gonna have dinner
at the Club Royale.

Thank you.

Hey, look.
I'm not the talkative type,

but when I get big-hearted
and offer to buy you a drink,

the least you can do
is look pleasant.

Oh, I'm sorry, Tom. I was thinking
about that story I wrote today.

Ah, forget it. When you've been
a reporter as long as I have,

you'll realise it's silly to think about
a story once you've turned it in.

I know, but doesn't it
strike you as strange

that a man who's
broke and out of a job

should refuse to open up when
he's had thirty thousand dollars

-practically thrust upon him?
-No, no, it doesn't.

If I had thirty thousand bucks
thrust upon me,

I can think of plenty of people
I wouldn't speak to.

Including you.

That's what I like about you.
You're such a cheerful character.

Yeah. I got that way
covering night court.

Want me to speak
to the city editor?

Gladly trade you
nightclubs for night court.

No, thanks. I meet a better
class of heels in night court.

-Be seein' ya.
-Bye.

-Good evening.
-Evening.

How do you do, sir?
May I help you?

Do you have a table?

-For one, sir?
-Yes, I'm alone.

Right this way, please.

How nice. Thank you.

Never mind the menu. I want
the best dinner you got in the house.

All the trimmings.
I'll leave it to you.

Excellent, monsieur.

You will not regret the confidence
you have placed in me.

Thank you.

Hello, Mr Nugent.

Remember me?
Pat Henley of the Register.

Why, of course I remember you.

-Won't you sit down?
-Thank you.

Excuse me.

You look very different
than you did this morning.

I hardly knew you.
A distinct improvement, I might add.

Think so?

Shall I order the Grand Dinner...

for two, monsieur?

Well, I don't know what
I'm having. I've left it all to him.

-But I'd love to have you join me.
-Oh, thank you. I love surprises.

Yes, madame.

-Two.
-Thank you.

You seem a little jittery
about something.

Wanna tell me what's worrying you?

Oh, I...
Oh, I guess it's just that...

Possibly I'm...
not used to this sort of thing.

Oh, don't let a nightclub throw you.

Let's dance. Music's on your cheque.
It's a shame not to use it.

-I haven't danced in a long time.
-Good.

Then you won't be trying that
fancy stuff that gets a woman down.

Check your hat, please?

For a man who's out of practice,
you do all right for yourself.

-A good partner helps.
-Nicely put, Mr Nugent.

Very nicely.

He took my tip
and came here all right.

That's him. The tall fella
dancin' with the blonde.

Here's something for your trouble.

Thanks, Mr Donnelly.

Good evening, sir.
Are you dining alone, sir?

Yes, alone.

This way, please.

Do you wish to order now, sir?

No. Not now.

Yes, sir.

You are worried about something.

Well, this time you're right.

Friend of yours?

Never saw him before in my life.

Hey!

Any reason that man
should be sizing you up like that?

There might be.

Well, are you going to
tell me about it,

or do I have to
ferret it out for myself?

Maybe I'll tell you
all about it sometime.

Right now, I want you
to do me a favour.

Take this money
and pay the bill.

-I'm leaving.
-Oh, isn't that kinda silly?

If that character's really after you,
he'll have somebody waiting outside.

I'm not leaving by the front door.

I've got a better idea.
I'll get to a telephone,

call half a dozen nice, friendly cops
I'm personally acquainted with.

No, that's no good.

This man probably is a detective.

So you had a reason
to be camera shy?

Yes, I did.
I'll tell you all about that sometime.

I suppose I won't see you again?

Oh, yes, you will.

I'll call you
at the newspaper office.

-Say, boy.
-Yes, sir?

Is there any other way
out of this place?

Oh, no, sir.
This is a one-way room, sir.

Er... That's a supply closet.

What would happen
if I gave you ten dollars?

Yes, sir.
For that kind of money,

it become a two-way room.

Ssh...

Right this way.

How do, sir?

Where'd the fella go
who just came in here?

A fella? Er... Er...
What fella?

You know, you must be
lookin' for the Invisible Man, sir.

Supply closet, sir.

-I said, "Where'd he go?"
-Go? Ah...

No violence, sir.
The gentleman just purchased

ten dollars' worth
of emergency exit.

See here? Look.

Look there.

Whew!

This is an amazing
turn of events, isn't it, Lee Nugent?

You went to infinite pains
to prove that

you were the man
to whom the money belonged.

And now, you are hunted.

Is it by someone who may know
of the fraud you perpetrated?

-Where to, sir?
-Ramsey Arms Hotel.

-Limpy, what's the idea?
-Don't ask questions.

Tell the driver
not to stop at your hotel.

Keep right on going, Driver,
until I tell you to stop.

There's, um...

a woman in the car
down the street, watching you.

Look, Mr Nugent,

I was passing your hotel,
peddling the merchandise,

when I spot
a couple of hard-lookin' guys

askin' Pete the doorman

if a Mr Selfridge
had got back yet.

He said he hadn't.
I didn't think anything of it.

Then these guys moved onto
a doorway, and they started gabbin',

so I eased over to them,

and, from what I heard,
I tumbled that you were Mr Selfridge.

What did they say about me?

Well, one of them was tellin'
how you got away from him

at the Club Royale.

He said he was
gonna get ya anyway.

He had a... a kind of a
crazy look in his eye.

How'd ya happen
to head me off?

I started watching the traffic comin'
from the direction of the Club Royale.

Boy, it was a lucky thing
I spotted you in that cab.

Yes, it was lucky.

What are they after you for?

Is it something to do about
that money you got in the bank?

Tell you the truth,
I don't know.

Why don't you go to the cops?

Because there are...

complications.

Oh.

I didn't mean to get personal.

Haven't you got any plans?

Yes.

I'm getting outta town
for a while.

Do you know anything about
the trains this time of night?

Oh, you wouldn't stand a chance
without a reservation.

Your best bet is a bus.

There's two or three of them
leaving the terminal

at 8th and Main around midnight.

Good. You say you know
the doorman at the Ramsey Arms?

Sure. I stop and kid with him
almost every night.

Do you know him
well enough to...

get in my room
and get something for me?

I can't leave without it.

Well, I can get by
Pete all right, but...

there's a couple of
other things to consider.

Those two guys waiting for you
on the outside, and...

the night clerk and the
elevator boy on the inside.

I know another way, though.

-How?
-Through the service entrance.

Good.

Here's the key to room 412.

Now, in the ice box,
the bottom of the freezing unit,

you'll find a tin box.

You bring it to me
at the bus station.

I'll make it worth your time.

Oh, don't worry about that.
I'm only too glad to help ya.

I haven't forgot the ten bucks
you gave me this morning.

Put this thing over for me,
and there'll be fifty in it for ya.

-Gee. Fifty bucks?
-Mmm.

I haven't got much time.
It's a quarter after eleven.

I'll meet you on the bench
at the bus station.

I'll be there, Mr Nugent.

-Here's your box, Mr Nugent.
-Good.

Anybody see you get it?

I don't think so.
I didn't see anybody.

I brought one of your hats, too.

It got kinda crushed, but
I figured you might need it.

Swell!
You think of everything.

Here.
Here's your fifty.

I hate to take this, Mr Nugent.

-It wasn't worth it.
-Oh, yes, it was.

-Have any idea what is in this box?
-Yeah.

Twenty-eight thousand
in cash.

I couldn't help seein' it.

The box flew open
when I pulled it out.

-And you still brought it to me?
-Why not?

I like to think that
you're my friend.

You'd better be gettin'
on your bus now.

Say, look,

I bought a lot of
swell clothes yesterday.

They'll be delivered tomorrow.

My room rent's paid in advance.
I want you to have 'em.

You've got the key.
Go on in there tomorrow

-and take out everything.
-I couldn't use 'em, Mr Nugent.

I found out a long time ago

that it doesn't pay
to look prosperous in my business.

I'll take care of 'em for you
till you get back, though.

Look...

If you ever need me,

I got a room
at 410 Pokanoke Street.

The street was named after
an Indian, so they say.

You can't forget
a name like that. Pokanoke.

Well, I'll be goin' now.

Good luck, my friend.

Don't forget.
410 Pokanoke Street.

Room eight.

I won't.

Come on, let's take a walk.

What's the idea?

On your feet.

Try these on for size.

What's in that box?

Money.

I'll let you keep it on you
till we get to headquarters.

Why am I being arrested?

I suppose you don't
have the slightest idea.

Or maybe you're trying to tell me
that you're not Lee Nugent.

I am Lee Nugent, all right.
The money's rightfully mine.

Who says it isn't?
I'm picking you up for murder.

Murder?

Maybe you've forgotten all about
the policeman you killed in Chicago.

-So that's why he didn't claim it.
-What's that?

Look, I'm not the man you want.

So now, you're not Lee Nugent.
A moment ago, you were.

Well, I'm Lee Nugent,
but I'm not the one you think I am.

Yeah, come on.

Gimme the night editor, please.

Hello, Roy,
this is Pat Henley.

I'm at the Central Bus Terminal.

A detective just picked up Lee Nugent

who collected that dormant account
this morning.

Yes, I'll follow through
at the police station

and call you from there.

Hey, this isn't police headquarters.

And you're not the police.

-What's this all about?
-You'll find out...

inside.

Sit down.

I'm Eddie Donnelly.

Does the name
mean anything to you?

Then I'll refresh your memory.

Joe Nugent,

your father,
was my father's partner.

Your old man turned crooked,
ruined the firm,

then disappeared and let
my father take the rap for him.

Well, you're... you're all wrong.
I'm not the man you're looking for.

You listen.
I'll do the talking.

My father went to jail.

Your father left his family here,

and then went to another country,

where he lived on stolen money.

I want to show you something.

Bring him in.

I want you to understand
why I swore I'd get even.

Why I spent years
hunting your father.

I caught up with him
ten years ago, in the Argentine,

but I was just a week too late.

He died a natural death in bed.

This is my father.

Take a good look at him.

He's been like this a long time.

He doesn't know me.

Nor my brother.

He didn't even
recognise my mother

the day they released him.

Going to prison
for something he didn't do

snapped his mind.

My mother died six months later.

The shock of seeing him like this
killed her.

Now you know why you're here.

If you let me talk,
I'm sure I can convince you

that I'm not the man
you're looking for.

My father couldn't have been
in partnership with yours.

My father was never
in business with anyone.

His name was Dan, not Joe.

Furthermore,
he died twenty years ago.

I impersonated the man that
you've been looking for, because...

well, I wanted the money
in that dormant bank account.

I don't blame you
for wanting vengeance,

but vengeance on the wrong man
won't do you any good.

You're not going to let him
get away with this, Eddie.

You say you can
prove a lot of things,

but how do I know
but what you're stalling for time?

Why should I
be stalling for time?

Why do you think I went through
that window at the nightclub

I didn't know who you were.
I thought you were a detective.

I thought the bank had
sent you after me, because...

they had discovered my fraud.

Suppose I send down
to your old neighbourhood

and bring someone up here,
and see if they can recognise you?

All neighbours remember faces.

I don't mean a neighbour from where
you lived when you were a kid,

I mean a neighbour
from where you lived

after your old man ran away.

Now, what's the name
of that street?

Er, Read Street. 295.

But that won't help any.

Why, the building burned down
two days after they moved in.

So you're not
the Lee Nugent I want?

Yet you sit there, and tell me

the very number of the street
where you lived as a kid,

and about the fire.

Get up. We're going.

I suppose you're wondering
how you're gonna die.

Maybe you think
I'm gonna shoot ya,

and it'll be over
all of a sudden.

But it's not gonna
be like that, Nugent.

I've had a lot of time to think

what I was going to do
when I found you.

My father might as well have died

because of what
your old man did to him.

It would have been better
if he had.

But only his mind died in prison.

And I've arranged
to do as much for you.

Oh, you'll die, all right.

But your mind will go first.

You turned a block too soon.
This is Pokanoke. Back up!

Limpy.

Limpy Smith.

Why, Mr Nugent,
what's the matter?

They're coming for me.

I've been hit.
Would you help me?

Be better for me
if I let them get ya.

-Then I'd be safe.
-What do you mean?

I'm the man they're after,
only they don't know it.

They've been trying
to find me for years,

but they never gave a tumble
to Limpy Smith, the peddler.

You see...

I'm the Lee Nugent
you've been pretending to be.

The one they really want to kill.

-You are Lee Nugent?
-Yes.

Huh.

They went in here.

Excuse me.

I take it the news
wasn't so hot?

Not so hot.

We just finished talking
to the people at the bank.

I told 'em I didn't
wanna prosecute you,

but they wouldn't
listen to me.

You'd think it was their dough
you got instead of mine.

Maybe when I tell the judge
how Eddie Donnelly wanted to kill me,

you won't have to
serve so long in prison.

Well, whatever I get,
I've got it coming to me.

Oh, here...

-This money's yours.
-Oh, no. My...

-My money's in the bank.
-What?

Sure.

You see, I wasn't gonna
be a sucker enough

to let you get away with it, so...

I took it out of the box
when you sent me for it.

I hope you don't mind.

What are you gonna do
with all that money,

now that you have it?

Well, first,
I'm gonna get my leg fixed.

And then,
I'm gonna start a business.

What'll you be doing
when I come out?

Oh, still writing features
and covering the nightclubs, I guess.

I'll give you a job
when you get out, Mr Nugent.

Don't forget, you spent
some of my money.

You can pay me back
outta your salary.

You might even work
into a partnership.

Sure!

We could call the firm
Nugent & Nugent.

What a story behind
the founding of that firm!

Yes, the amazing story

of how fate dealt with
Lee Selfridge Nugent,

who learned the hard way

that there is no compromise
with conscience.

Now, he will pay
his debt to society,

and, after he has
paid that debt,

fate will be kinder to him.

I know, because
I am the Whistler.