All language subtitles for No_Escape_City_on_a_Hunt_LewAyres_MarjorieSteele_1953_Eng_25fps

Subtitles: Luís Filipe Bernardes

This is San Francisco,

washed on three sides
by the ocean and the bay.

One of the most beautiful cities on earth.

Whether you come to it from the west,
through the famous Golden Gate,

or across the Bay Bridge,
from Oakland and the east.

Whether you live in luxury,
up there on Nob Hill,

or in one of the old alleys of Chinatown,

you'll still be glad
you're in this lovely city.

Unless you commit murder,

because you'll never get away.

Not once the police spring the trap,

set the watch on the two bridges:

the Golden Gate...

the Bay Bridge.

Spread the net to the Ferry Building,

the railroad depot,

the airport,

and the roads which lead south,

slamming every door
so there is no escape.

No escape.

No escape.

Nobody would have guessed it,

but the seeds of this killing
were being sown overnight

at one of those North Beach
Barbary Coast night spots

by a cast of completely unrelated characters.

There was a girl and two men.

Happy enough right now,

but their laughter wasn't to last.

There was Wilbur K. Grossett.

His laughter could be heard
for two blocks.

- Tourists.
- Spending?

Plenty.

Also, there was piano playing
songwriter John Tracy...

who had been on the skids so long

that the fast buck had become
more important than his self-respect.

- Olga.
- Hi.

Let's have another drink...

I say three meals a day
keeps your strength up.

I'm awfully sorry,
that was stupid of me.

Now you must send me
a bill for your dress.

That's all right.
Honey, give me your handkerchief.

Here, have mine.

Mac, bring another
round of drinks, on me.

Oh, no you don't, no you don't.
You're drinking with us.

- This is a celebration, mister uh...
- John Tracy.

- Well, I'm glad to know you, Mr. Tracy.
- Nice knowing you.

- Wilbur K. Grossett's my name...
- How do you do?

This is Mrs. Weisberg, Mrs. Patty O'Day...
Come on, pull up a chair...

sit down and join us.

- Thank you.
- What's your poison?

- Well, not this brand today.
- What, bad liquor?

The only way to avoid domain around here

is to know what you're drinking.

Bring a bottle, my good man,
and none of your tricks.

You live and learn as long
as you live long enough to learn.

It's like in my old home town.

They give the tourists
the one-two every time.

What is your home town, Mr. Grossett?
- St Joe, St. Joseph, Missouri,

a great little city if a say so myself.

St. Joe, the State of Mo,
I could write a song around that.

You write songs?

Oh, as a hobby. I get a kick
out of concocting little lyrics

for the persons' home town
and state thrown in.

Take you, for example.
Grossett, St. Joe...

He's gonna sing about me.

# In all of Missouri, #
# the state they call Mo, #

# from KC to Springfield, #
# from Wolfe to St. Joe #

# You won't find a man #
# who is fitter to boss it #

# than the prince of good fellows #

# Wilbur K. Grossett! #

Come on, come on,
do it again, do it again.

- Look, Pat, I only mentioned Sally once.
- Once too often.

You shouldn't have brought me
here anyway.

Oh, quit it you two.
Will you keep this up all night?

I'm sorry, Bruce.

# You won't find a man #
# who is fitter to boss it

# than the prince of good fellows #

# Wilbur K. Grossett! #

Why, that fellow's a genius.

You see what I mean?

And I won't rhyme Mrs. Weisberg,
she's no iceberg, it's too obvious.

Excuse me.

What does she want
with that waiter?

You sure ought to drink now,
Mr. Tracy.

Not right now, but of course
I'll take something for my favorite cherie.

Why, you bet you...
I'll let you have it.

- How's that?
- Oh, that's very generous of you.

Well, good meeting all you folks.

He sure is a nice fellow, ain't he?
Got class, too.

Why not call it a day, Olga,
things aren't that tough.

- Maybe for you they're not.
- Go on home and get some sleep.

I'll go when I'm ready.

Thanks, Johnny.

- Hey, that young lady's with me.
- She was.

- A note for you, Tracy.
- Oh?

From the tomato at number 12.

- Sally Doyle?
- Hm-hmm.

That's Sally. The one with the off-shouldered
dress in the middle.

She used to sing here,
before your time.

Who's the girl over there?

I can't say, but go easy.

Those guys with her are dicks.

I see, sing about Sally Doyle
but keep my distance, eh?

Thanks, Mac.

Hey, I think he's going to sing again.

Oh, wonderful.

# She sings like an angel #
# from up in the sky #

# But it's said there's a devil #
# way deep in her eye #

# If you're lookin' for cookin' #

# that's hot and won't spoil #

# Then try Oakland's darling #

# Our own Sally Doyle! #

No, Simon, I asked him to do it.

You can't blame him, it's his job.

You asked him?
Just because I...

Tossed your ex-girlfriend at my head?
I'm sorry if she bounced back.

- She'd be a little more civilized.
- That's just it!

You're too civilized, and hard.

Like a diamond.
You can cut yourself in a diamond.

Listen, you two...

No, he started it, Bruce,
you know he did.

Oh, we'll discuss it tomorrow.

And don't grind your teeth,
I'll disintegrate.

You shouldn't have brought her here,
she's right.

We'd better go.

She'll be back.

You're not going. Oh, it was my fault.
I shouldn't have sung that song.

- I had asked you for it.
- It'll be tough grabbing a cab in this rain.

I'll get one, Tracy. Lady wants a cab
it won't take more than five minutes.

Why, thank you.

Oh, you know,
I think I'd really rather walk.

- But it's still raining.
- And you don't have to walk.

- It's your money.
- It's absurd. I just didn't notice.

Owe it to me.
All right, Turnip.

Be right back.

Well, I suppose I'll just say thank you.

Why don't you thank me
by letting me buy you a drink?

You can't wait in the door

and if he comes along it'll spoil
a perfectly good exit. Come on.

You know, if you write those songs
for a living you're liable to go bankrupt.

That I did years ago.
What'll you have?

- Nothing, really. Thanks.
- You sure?

Brandy for me, Gerald.

Come on, sit down and I'll tell you
the story of my life.

It's kind of a reverse success story.

From riches to rags in ten reels.
It comes in two versions.

Black and white and Technicolor.
Of course the Technicolor's more expensive,

but it has the lurid bits.

I suppose that little man
won't be able to get me a cab.

And the moral embraces
one fundamental principal.

Whenever you meet someone
richer than yourself,

make a friend.

I'm not rich.

But there must be a wealthy aunt
around someplace, isn't there?

I thought this was your story.
Where does it start?

The start? Oh, soft music
and the lights of Broadway...

- I'd do it better with the piano.
- And a song about St. Joe?

You should have heard some
of the stuff I used to write.

You know, I thought I caught
something tonight.

Some noise was buzzing
around in there. It was pretty good.

Then why not put it down?
It wouldn't give you writer's cramp.

One has to live between hits.

By picking up tips from stupid people.

Oh, I'm sorry, it's none of my business.

I guess I'm on edge
about that silly quarrel.

- About Sally Doyle?
- Did you know her?

No, but the picture, lovely.

- Hello, Pat.
- Oh, Peter!

How nice to find you here.
Mr. John Tracy himself.

- I was just leaving.
- Fine, leave with me. I've got a car.

- That is, if Mr. Tracy doesn't mind.
- But I was thinking of driving her home, Peter.

In your new Cadillac?
I'm sure it was only a thought.

- Some little man went to find me a cab.
- We'll leave the price of the cab. Come on.

Thank you, Peter.
And thank you, Mr... Tracy.

You've been very kind.
Good night.

Not your type, Johnny.
She works for a living.

- Now look...
- All right, all right, no offense.

Anyway, Pat's a friend of mine.
I might say an associate.

Charge Mr. Tracy's drinks
to me tonight, Mac.

- Good night, Johnny.
- Yes, Mr. Hayden.

I oughta have made it a double.

Oh, why be cheap about it.
Bring a bottle and charge it to Hayden.

Sure thing, Tracy, but uh...

You'd better put this away.

- Where did that come from?
- Mr. Hayden left it.

I guess it's for you.

He's gone.

Thanks, Mac.

Writer's cramp.

But she must have gone home.

Isn't that the guy that worked
that song about Sally?

He looks pretty far gone.

Yeah.

Excuse me.

- Hey, Bud.
- Hm?

That young lady that was with me,
did you see her leave?

Sit down, I'll tell you
the story of my life.

- Writing a musical?
- Hmm...

Looks pretty good.
Here, have it.

I'll autograph it.
Someday worth a fortune.

Thanks a lot.

Or I'll tell you the story
of Peter Hayden's life.

Generous man, Peter...

Gives you all the things you want,
ten bucks,

and all he asks in return
is your naked soul.

Sounds like you love the guy.

- Hm, well...
- Thanks again.

Oh, brother,

in all the time I've known you
I've never seen you this fractured.

- Hey, bring me another one of...
- It's after hours, fellow.

Why didn't you say so?

Stop running, Tracy.
You had a good night?

Turnip, my boy,

kindly observe the new
John Howard Tracy.

from generation to degeneration
in one easy lesson.

- Why, ten bucks!
- That's right.

Hey, where are you going?

- To give it back.
- Are you crazy?

Ten bucks is dough!

Peter!

Peter Hayden!

Peter.

Peter.

Peter Hayden!

You asleep, Peter?

Came to give you
your ten bucks back, Peter.

Better call the police.

# Time flies, best buys #

# under the clock at Pinker's Department Store #

# Pinker's Department Store, Market and Grant #

# Pinker's Department Store, Market and Grant #

It is 5 a.m., PST

under the big clock on Pinker's
Department Store, Market and Grant #

# where stability and service
goes with economy and quality. #

Miss Peterson.

You know that I've made arrangements
to go down to Los Angeles

for the Howard Shue Fashion Show
and you'll be looking after things here.

- You told me, Mr. Duffy.
- I'll only be staying one night.

You look a little off color, my child.

- Now don't you go taking colds.
- All right, Mr. Duffy.

Oh, Miss Peterson.

Don't you agree,
these aren't quite me.

I mean, it isn't that my hips
are too wide, it's just...

I see Mrs. Diamond's point.
Bring the coco lace with the white file skirt.

- I think you'll like it. Excuse me.
- Thank you.

Simon.

What are you doing here?

Just dropped in to apologize, I guess.

Looking back, maybe I was
a little hard to take last night.

You certainly were.

I called your apartment
at 1:00 this morning.

Again at 1:30.
Where were you, Pat?

I was asleep or...
Well, after your behavior...

It's none of my business?

- I hope you're right.
- What do you mean by that?

I was called out
on a murder case this morning.

Looks like murder.

A guy died from a blow in the head.

From a vase.

A guy named Hayden.

- Oh no, Simon!
- Easy.

People will see.

I can't believe.

So the Department asked you
to bring me in?

The Department doesn't know
you were there.

I knew by the gloves I gave you.

You found them?
Hid them?

How come you were with him, Pat?

- I...
- Easy.

- How come?
- It isn't hard to explain.

I talked with that songwriter man.

I didn't want to.
It just worked out that way.

Peter Hayden came by
and said he'd run me home.

And then?

We had supper at Julius Castle.
His studio is just around the corner.

Oh, Simon, we knew each other.
He had designed for us here.

I know.

Oh, it was so horrible.

There was a struggle.

- I hit him with a vase to get free.
- Shhh!

I shouldn't blame him.
I shouldn't have gone in.

But he said he wanted to draw my picture.

- Picture?
- He drew a picture, but that was before...

Gwen's looking.
Look, this is your lunch hour, isn't it?

We'll walk around your apartment.

Talk about anything till we get there.

Yes, Simon.

The cleaning woman's gone.

Oh, Simon, what am I to do?

First let's burn that picture.
Where is it?

It's... it's in the studio.
Didn't you find it?

You're not saying you left it
after the guy was dead.

Oh, Simon, I didn't know he was dead.

There was no picture there this morning.

I think...

I think it must have fallen
on the floor during the struggle.

- It must have been there.
- Not when we were called in.

Then someone else did come there.

I believe I've known it all along.

I went out the front way...

but I thought I heard a step
at the other door before I left.

Remember, I never dreamed he was dead.

He was dead all right,
and someone's got that picture.

I'll have to give myself up, I must.

So long as it doesn't hurt you.

- If you arrest me yourself.
- How can you ask?

- I killed him!
- Out of loyalty to me.

And I love you for it.

More than I ever thought I could.

Simon.

Listen, darling,

you didn't mean to kill that man.
It was self-defense.

But your facing trial won't help anyone.

So why stick your neck out?
Where's the evidence?

There's the picture, Simon.

Hello.

My name is Tracy...

I went to Pinker's to talk with you

but they told me that you
had left with Mr...

Mr. Shayne?

It's a very nice apartment you have here.

That wealthy aunt of yours
has done you proud.

- What do you want?
- Right now I'd settle for some coffee.

I'm a little shaky,
what with the hangover and...

Peter Hayden's death.

- Hayden?
- Oh, he's dead.

He's very dead.
I've seen the body.

But then, so have you, presumably.

And so has Miss Peterson.

What makes you think
Pat has seen it?

Have you some coffee
you could warm up?

My hands... won't hold still.

I said what makes you think
Pat saw it.

Hm?
Oh, by the picture.

You've got it?

Give it to me.

- Simon!
- No, Pat, I've heard of this guy.

Scrapes a dirty living anyway he can
and now he looks to cash in.

- Do I?
- Give me that picture.

- Give it to me!
- Simon, don't!

This won't do any of us any good.

Cash in, eh?

That could cost you something.

So you want the picture.

Good.
What's it worth?

- It is a shakedown.
- Maybe, maybe not.

- Maybe I came to give the picture back.
- For a price.

- I'm not so sure.
- What do you think, Mr. Shayne?

I don't have to.
This guy believes he's on velvet.

Could be.

Well, since we're in business,
where do we go from here?

Okay, what do you want?

- What have you got?
- See what I mean?

Except, I don't see why all three of us
shouldn't make some money.

All three?

Sure, we're all in the same boat together.

After a fashion, why not pool
what we have to offer?

What have you got to offer?

Songs, who knows?
Like playing the races.

You mean you want us
to back your songwriting?

Now that's a thought.

I can see it now,
John Tracy... and partners...

Music and Songs Incorporated.

- Three-way split, of course.
- Who says your stuff's any good?

Oh, I don't know.
I used to believe in it.

I got this last night.

I haven't quite got it finished yet,
but uh...

hear the words.

'No escape,
the dreams that have haunted me...'

'schemes that have taunted me,'

'through the years'

'No escape...'

Listen, Tracy, I know
the answer to blackmail.

You mean tell the truth?

About Pat killing Hayden
and you holding your tongue?

All right, call the police.

Pat can confess and you can say
anything you like about me.

Go ahead, Shayne.

- I've got twenty-five...
- No small change.

- I've got four dollars.
- Simon's the angel.

Why don't you drop dead?

Good question.
Don't know the answer.

Oh, uh...
here's the picture.

Not that you couldn't have said
it was painted last year.

Not too bright, are you, Simon?

If you come around worrying Pat again...

Pat has nothing to fear from me.

She's the first person I've met in years
who's half-way to being human.

Hope to be seeing you again.

Meaning you'll want more dough.

Meaning I haven't given
the matter any real thought.

Yet.

Coffee's boiling.
You'd better feed it to Simon.

- I'd like to kill him.
- I'm not so sure he came for money.

Of course he did.
I know the type.

You look as if you could use
a little rest.

Oh, what's the use?
I've messed things up for myself...

and now you're in it too.

He's come back.

- Who is it?
- It's Bruce Gunning.

- Bruce!
- Hold it, Bruce.

Turn off that coffee.

Uh, what was that?
Yeah, Dick, that's what I said.

- He can't see you, go in there.
- Do you think he's guessed?

How should I know?
Go on in.

Sure... sure...
There's someone at the door.

I'll call you back later.

- I was on the phone.
- Hello, Simon. I figured you'd be here.

- How?
- Figuring is my job. Yours too.

Or are you taking the day off
like Pat is?

- Pat was at work.
- So they told me at Pinker's.

- Why did you go to Pinker's, Bruce?
- Hayden used to design for them.

Forgotten?

This is Gunning.
Put Sergeant Laine on.

- Why the jitters, Simon?
- Up too late, I guess.

Hello Laine, it's Gunning.
Got the fingerprint analysis yet?

Uh-huh, more than we thought.

No, I'm with Shayne now. He wasn't lost,
just straying. We'll be over.

What about the fingerprints?

Enough to float a battleship.
But they're not known so far.

Oh, uh...

Hayden was with some girl.
At Julius Castle, one o'clock this morning.

- Who was she?
- You tell me. The waiter couldn't describe her.

- Where's Pat?
- In the bedroom.

- Not feeling good?
- She's fine.

Pat!
Oh, Pat!

- Yes, Bruce?
- I'm taking Simon along.

I'm afraid we need his bright brains
when things get cracky.

- All right, Bruce.
- See you later, Pat.

Oh, Simon, just a minute.

- Be right with you, Bruce.
- I'll wait in the hall. Take your time.

- What is it?
- He's on to it. I know Bruce is on to it.

Darling, he doesn't know a thing.
It's just his act.

He likes to make people
think he's smart.

Trust me. Tracy's our trouble.

Now get back to Pinker's.

- Call me.
- Sure, don't worry.

- You told Pat about this Hayden business?
- Sure.

Why were you looking for me, Bruce?

Always to the point, aren't you?

You still got that menu given you
by that piano player last night?

Yeah, why do you want it?

That guy had quite a bit to say
about Hayden.

No harm in comparing fingerprints.

Coming?

Fingerprints identical with John Tracy.

Tracy's fingerprints were at Hayden's.

Put out a general Police Call.
Locate and hold John Tracy.

Arrest and hold on suspicion
of murder John Tracy.

No photograph available.
No police record.

Age about 35.

Weight about 165.

Medium height.

It sounds like you and me,
or a million others.

But you still can't get out of San Francisco.

Not once the police spring the trap.

Close the two bridges.

The Ferry Building.

The railroad depot, the airport...

and the roads to the south.

Slamming every door so that you are caught
in the city of no escape.

No escape.

Found this in Tracy's room, huh?

Programs and press clippings.

Manhattan Mania,
music and lyrics by John Tracy.

- Here's a song, 'East River Blues.'
- I remember that.

- I'm sure he piled up quite a bank roll.
- How come he unpiled it?

Here's the answer to that.

Variety, April 3rd, 1946.

John Tracy's folk opera 'Shadow of the South',
financed by the composer,

closed after 8 weeks
with a loss of sixty grand.

There's a number of pictures of the star,
Magda Loring. Here's one.

- 'For my one beloved, Magda.'
- His girlfriend, eh?

Till he flopped.

There's a good-bye cable from Paris.
Seems she walked out on him.

Too bad he never included his own picture.
We sure could've used it.

That's the last clipping
he cared to put in.

Oh, hello, Pat.
Did you want Simon?

- Yes, if you can spare him for a minute.
- I'll settle for five.

Thank you, Bruce.

Pat, what is it?

- Tracy's down below.
- Shhh.

- He must be crazy. Where?
- By the street door.

He came by my apartment this morning.

I didn't know the police were after him
until he told me.

Now he's come to tell all he knows
unless I confess first.

- He said that, did he?
- I must, Simon.

We can't fight it.

Promise me something.
Don't say a word until I tell you.

I promise, of course, but I...

You mustn't worry.
You've been through enough.

Stick around and look
like nothing's wrong.

- But...
- Everything's gonna work out all right.

Shayne's coming.

Don't look up, turn around
and keep reading that newspaper.

I've seen it. All about me.
Makes nice light reading.

Then read it again.

I'm not hiding. Who do I talk to,
your pal Gunning?

Talk to me, right here.

Okay, I've come to tell
what I know about Hayden.

Unless your girlfriend's
in there confessing already.

She isn't.

All right, what would you do
in my place?

- You haven't a lot of choice.
- You mean like when you blackmailed me.

I'm wondering how much
you'd have cost

if your chickens
hadn't come home to roost.

It's not me that's in trouble.

Maybe not,
if you get out of here but fast.

You're a little deaf today.
I said...

I heard what you said. That's fine.
Except nobody will believe you.

- What? Of course they'll believe me.
- Not unless Pat talks too.

And she won't,
because I'm in this too, remember?

What is this, a frame-up?

I won't frame you.
I don't even want to hurt you.

- But in the face of the case Homicides build up...
- What case?

- You want to hear?
- Yes.

You had an argument with Hayden
before you left that joint.

Sure I did. About Pat.

No one seems to recall
any girl being with you.

But I recall you being sore at Hayden.

And so does Lt. Gunning.

- Now listen, Shayne.
- No, you listen.

I'm doing us all a favor.

Later a neighbor heard you
outside Hayden's studio.

Your voice was thick with liquor.
The neighbor's own words.

Your fingerprints were found
in the window, on the whiskey glass,

and on the vase
which struck Hayden down.

- What do you know.
- So, looks like you framed yourself.

The fingerprints, the motive,
and the weapon.

And your only defense is your word.

I think you've forgotten one thing.

Pat.

She wouldn't let this happen.

Don't bet your life on it.

Could it be you're afraid
for your job, Simon?

Uh-hum, for Pat.

All I want is a way out
for the three of us.

Such as?

Such as your getting out of here,
getting lost...

and staying lost till the heat's off.

No, thanks.
I'm going to see Gunning.

Go ahead.
He'd be delighted to see you.

Shall we go together?

- Simon, where is he?
- He's gone.

- Why?
- He's not gonna say a word.

- And neither are you.
- But I...

No, if you give yourself up
I'll tell I hid those gloves.

- You'd be smashing me too.
- Simon!

He had no mercy.
But I'm not switching the scent on him.

I'm just trying to keep it off you.

Still here, Pat?

Has Simon brought you
up to date on Hayden?

Yes, he did.
Uh, Bruce...

- Can this man Tracy get away?
- From San Francisco?

Not without the help of Houdini.

Houdini's dead.

Turnip.

You brought it!
Come on in to the office.

Brought you a clean shirt, a razor.

Hey, pretty snug.
I've slept in worse places myself.

Well, that's great news tonight!

Look at this! An apple, and cheese,
and bread, and fries...

And!

Thanks, thanks.

You know, the way you treated folks
you got friends...

only they daren't do more
than feed you.

- Will you join me?
- Yes, I'll take this.

What's going on in the big world?

Oh, the town's crawling with cops.
Figured yet what you're gonna do?

No... what would you do, Turnip?

I'll tell you what I'd do.

I'd take that dame by the neck...

and I'd beat the living daylights
out of her.

- She's bigger than you are.
- But I know a few tricks.

I bet you do.

- She killed that guy.
- I know it, but I can't prove it.

- You're sure in a spot.
- Hm-hmm.

Well, I know someone who's in a worse one.

Yeah, who?

The girl, who else?

Yeah.

- Hello?
- Pat, what goes on?

I've been twice by your place last night

the lights were still burning at two,
are you all right?

I guess I'm too numb to know.

I didn't sleep till after six.

Simon, have they caught him yet?

No, they nearly nailed him on Mission
about ten minutes ago.

He got away toward Market.

- Market?
- Yeah, over your way.

The police net is reaching
across the city.

Simon, there's something
you don't know.

I got a letter from him this morning.

- From Tracy?
- Sending back the $25.

He said he only took it
to teach you a lesson.

Yeah, that's his story
now the police are after him.

But the things have been different.

But the letter was postmarked
before he knew he was wanted.

Oh, Simon, we've got to help him.

I can't let him be trapped
for something I did.

And I can't let you suffer.

I've caused all this horrible trouble.

- Hold it.
- Gunning wants you. Right now.

Thanks, Bob.

Bruce wants me. Can't talk now.
Call you right back.

I'm sorry, Miss Peterson.
I thought the room was empty.

I've got Mr. Duffy's reservation.
He can pick up the ticket at the station.

- Yes, Mr. Duffy's going to Los Angeles.
- This evening. I'll leave it here, shall I?

Yes, just leave it there.
I'll tell him.

Thank you, ma'am.

- Hello?
- Give me Miss Peterson, please.

Sure, she was just here.
Hold on.

Miss Peterson.

Miss Peterson!

I don't know where he is, lady,
and I don't want to.

- There's $50 in it.
- Not for me there isn't.

I'll double it!

- Oh, Mr. Turnip!
- Excuse me, lady, no time now.

- Please, wait!
- I'm in a hurry, ma'am.

- Holy mackerel!
- That's food!

- It's for Tracy, you know where he is.
- Now will you excuse me?

Okay, so waste time, the police may get him
right now on Market Street.

Market?

He could be cornered there this minute
unless I warn him.

Where were you taking that food?

Okay, lady. He's waiting in Simpson's bookstore,
corner of Market and Powell.

The new magazines
will be in tomorrow, officer.

Anything particular I can show you?

Oh, yes, some travel books.
On Mexico.

Yes, I'll bring some.

Found anything you like yet?

- Would you put these two away for me?
- Certainly.

The name is...

Well...

Here's a well-liked book, miss.
It covers beyond the Rio...

Well!

If you don't want to be caught
don't look like you expect me.

- You of all people.
- Keep your head.

Look like I'm with you.
For heaven's sake, act normal.

- Well, if it isn't Pat Peterson.
- Oh, hello, Mr. Franks.

You've met Mr. Dykers,
Simon's cousin?

- Officer Franks.
- I don't think I've had the pleasure.

Glad to know you, Mr. Dykers.

Okay, let's go.

Pretty sharp, aren't we?

Would you mind giving me a rough idea
what this wacky business is?

What's wacky about it?

We're going to Post, then we'll get
the cross-town bus to Kearney.

To Police Headquarters.
'Will you walk into my parlor', said the spider...

We're not going to the police,

will you please believe me,
I don't want you to be hurt.

That's a likely story.

Look, young lady, did it ever occur to you
to just tell the plain facts of the case?

- I'm not afraid of the truth.
- Well, then tell it.

I'll have to if you're caught,
isn't that obvious?

But there's still Simon to think about.

No. Why ruin his life
when he's a way out for all of us?

What way out?

We're going to Kearney.
There we'll hop to the Depot...

where you'll get the 2 o'clock train
to Los Angeles.

I have money.
You can be in Mexico by tomorrow.

You're even crazier than I thought.
Don't you know the police are watching the Depot?

Sure they're watching.
For a John Tracy.

But from now on,
your name is Claude Duffy.

Duffy?

- All set, Alice?
- Why Alice?

Why not? This whole situation
is out of Wonderland.

You'd better show the tickets.
It'll look better.

- Tickets?
- I'm coming with you.

- Are you kidding?
- There's no animal so dumb as a man.

Aren't the police watching
for someone alone?

- You're coming to Los Angeles?
- To Mexico.

- Oh, Pat.
- Well, I guess you're stuck with me.

May I have your name, sir, please?

Claude, he's asking you for your name.

Oh, Claude Duffy, why?

Any identification, Mr. Duffy?

Oh... very forgetful of me, I...

Oh, here it is on this reservation.

I can vouch for Mr. Duffy.
I work in his department at Pinker's.

Here's my driver's license,
my employer's identification...

Okay, all right, Mr. Duffy.
All right, miss.

May I have your name, sir, please?

- Made it.
- Not yet. Something tells me we won't.

Shh, be careful!

Your thinking isn't straight.
You'll be missed at the store.

So I'm missed, what does it prove?
They won't even know you're out of the city.

But this is your life.
If you run with me to Mexico...

Going someplace, Johnny?

Olga!
Er, just leaving town for a few days.

Me too. Mainly on account
I was asked to.

- I'll be back.
- Miss Summers, meet Miss Olga Lewis.

- Hello,
- Hi.

- I guess we'd better look for our seats.
- I wouldn't.

Seeing the police are double-checking
through the train.

Also that howler up there could be
on account of you wanted for murder.

But I tell you I am Claude Duffy

and anyone who tells you he is me
is an impudent impostor.

- What goes on here?
- It's Mr. Duffy,

he switched to an earlier train.

That cop's left his gate.

You can go through the alley.
Go on, both of you.

But I gave my own name.

I'll fix it. Swap me your folds.

- Oh, Olga.
- You've helped me often enough.

Now there's two.
You'll need your cash.

Now get going both of you.
Quick but casual.

If that man had my reservation,
I'm sure it was stolen.

- I wondered why it wasn't on my desk.
- Would you know this Peterson girl if you saw her?

So many dames passed,
but I'd know the guy.

Well, check them all.

Excuse me, miss,
may I have your name, please?

My own name or what
I'm travelling under?

- Huh?
- Maybe this will help.

Patricia Peterson?
Hey, Sergeant, here's the girl.

Are you Miss Peterson?

Oh, no, this isn't the Miss Peterson
that works with me.

Yes, and this isn't your picture.

Now what's your little game?

I guess... hide and go seek.

Calling all cars, calling all cars...

Tracy believed in area bounded by
California St. north...

Pacific Center and Market.

Repeat, calling all cars.

- Hello?
- Give me Miss Peterson, please.

Sorry, sir, nobody's seen Miss Peterson
since this morning.

Not since around ten.

Well, if she should come in...
No, forget it.

Where would you say he is now?

I'd say right there,
between Mason and the Ferry Building.

Yes, Simon, does Pat know
she lost her billfold?

She isn't at the store.

If you mean Miss Peterson,
I saw her in the Powell St. cable car.

- With a man named Dykers.
- Oh, so she's got a new boyfriend.

- Your own cousin, Shayne.
- Oh, Dykers, sure, of course.

- I didn't know you had a cousin either.
- No, Bruce, you wouldn't...

he just dropped in from Seattle.
It slipped my mind.

Pat's showing him around.

We'll talk to her later.

So this woman was trying
to get Tracy out of town.

- She's going along with him it looks like.
- Any history?

- Enough to fill a book.
- Hmm...

- So you're Olga Lewis.
- Middle name Valery.

Okay, Olga, you've got
quite a few questions to answer.

So you were going
to Los Angeles with Tracy.

What girl wouldn't?

And using this to pass yourself off
as Pat Peterson.

- Mac here can tell you all about it.
- He has.

Where did you steal this billfold?

I've got a heap of faults, copper,
but stealing isn't one of them.

All right, where's Tracy now?

You said he was between
Mason and the Ferry Building.

Still in San Francisco.

Still held there
in the grip of the police net...

because the night brings no relief
to the hunted.

The search goes on...

at the bridges,

at the Ferry Building,

in the suburbs,

and in the city.

Mason Street.

11 o'clock.

Oh, Simon, please leave me alone.

Stop ringing, won't you?

See? You only had to tell it.

Ever felt you were walking
6 feet off the ground...

and never sure the air
wouldn't collapse under your feet?

It collapsed under my feet
years ago.

The end of this thing.
I just can't get the end.

Oh...

Why don't you answer it?

If I did he'd be around in two minutes.

What would happen to you?

Maybe I'd pick up where I left off
on that cable car.

You'd get nowhere without my help.

Where have I got with it?

I'm sorry my plan slipped up.

You know, I once saw a movie

about a man who escaped
from Alcatraz by swimming to San Francisco.

Do you suppose I could escape
from San Francisco by swimming to Alcatraz?

I'll figure something out.

Tomorrow I'll figure something out.

Pat, why should you?

Because I killed a man.
No other reason I know of.

I do too.

Somehow I've got to find
peace of mind again.

I could find it by confessing.

But then there's Simon.
Why should I smash his life?

Think you'd have found peace of mind
with me in Mexico.

Oh, we're in the same boat.

We may have been able
to keep it afloat for a while.

How long before the police give up?

They don't.

Don't get ideas!

- I wasn't.
- Pat, look at me.

- What's there to see?
- Still a little sanity,

- That way's too easy.
- I thought you liked things easy.

Anyway, you're wrong,
I just wanted some clean air.

Anybody would who had been cooped up
in a room with a cheap failure.

- Don't say that.
- It's true.

- What use are you in this world?
- Once I was on top of it.

You talk in the past,
so why aren't you now?

- I still think my songs could get a break.
- To succeed? Why should they?

How can you believe your stuff's any good
when you don't even believe in yourself?

I committed a crime,
but yours is much bigger...

because you let yourself
be beaten by life.

You've become content
to wallow in the mud

glory in the dirty steps you collect
- Shut up!

You've lost all your guts.

You're living for today
because tomorrow doesn't exist.

You're cheap and you're dirty...
- I said shut up!

Let's face it.

You're a simple little fool,

you don't know where you're going
or what you're doing.

No.

And in spite of all, you're still
a blind optimist, aren't you?

Yes.

You stay that way.

And I'm going to get you out of here.

We will go to Mexico and keep
that boat afloat somehow.

I'm talking gibberish.

It's like two people in the woods
where it's green and cool...

but if they step out into the daylight,

machine guns are waiting.

I'm sorry I blew up.

My nerves are all shattered,
I got to take it out on somebody.

No, Pat. Those things
you said were right.

Still you were ready
to come with me, weren't you?

You'd have given up everything.

- Because I killed Hayden.
- You could have gotten away with that.

And had you on my mind
for the rest of my life?

Might have been better
than having me on your hands.

We'll figure something out.

Tomorrow.

Maybe.

You'd better get some sleep.

- It's worth a try.
- Me too.

Oh...

You know, Pat, it's too bad things
are messed up this way.

I think for the first time in my life

I wish I had a chance
to make something of myself...

because of someone else.

Pat... Pat!

We seem to have visitors.

The street door.
The police!

- Or Simon. Can he get in?
- Not if I don't press the buzzer.

He can too. He can come round
the back and through the window.

- He's coming!

Pat, let me go on.
I still think I can manage.

I don't. You wouldn't have
a chance alone. Come on.

Anything to eat,
some fried shrimp, or something?

No joke.
Some coffee might help.

- What's the matter?
- Out of here quick. Don't let him spot us.

- But who?
- Well! Don't go, don't go.

- Mr. Grosset.
- Rhymes with 'boss it', remember?

- I've sure been hoping to see you again.
- I'm afraid we have to...

I haven't been to bed in 48 hours.
Great city you got here.

- It is, isn't it? Well, good seeing you...
- No, no, I want you to meet my friends.

Socialites. Real class.
Now, they're going to some party...

if you play your cards right,
they'll take you with us.

Oh, we really haven't time...

What do you know, here I am talking
about my composer pal, Ken Bongo,

and here he is.

I want you to do a little song
about Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew.

Rhymes with Bill and coo.

I'll give you that one for free.

- Got a piano around here?
- In the back room, sir.

All right, then switch off that catch fight.

I'm sorry about this.

Now is our chance.
You want to escape with us?

- Escape?
- From my repulsive friend.

I can't promise you much of a party,
we just stopped for a quick one.

I've got a car.

Well, sure!

Where's my piano friend?
Can't play the piano standing...

- Hey, where've they gone?
- Who?

The whole bunch, that songwriting fellow,
what's his name uh...

Uh... Tracy.

Go to that party maybe.
You say Tracy?

Yeah, Tracy, one of the finest guys
you ever met.

Yes, very fine fellow.
Police want him for murder.

Murder?

- Yes, go on.
- Grossett's the name.

Wilbur K. Grossett.

Listen, the murderer was here
just this minute

at the Silver Dragon on Crest St.

Tracy just left the Silver Dragon.

Tracy left the Silver Dragon.

Yeah, he and his girl ran out
because they knew I was on to him.

He's still with the girl?
Who was she?

Well, I wouldn't know her name,

but she sure wasn't the sort
that you'd expect to be around with...

Okay, Mr. Grosset,
you know where they went?

Well, I'm not sure, but it's my guess
they were taken to some party on uh...

uh... hold it a minute.

Hey, barman...

- It's falling into place.
- Tracy wouldn't kill nobody!

Who asked your opinion?

- He's still with the girl.
- I don't get it.

You will.
Did Simon Shayne go home?

- Sure thing, Lieutenant.
- Then go ahead with what I said. Pronto!

Yes, sir.

- Hello!
- Yes, Mr. Grosset?

Well, the barman here
didn't know the address.

But I know it's on some hill.
Uh... Turkish Hill...

Uh... Persian Hill...

Russian Hill!

So I gave these two young people
a ride in my car

and then we all discovered
we liked each other.

- So you brought them along.
- Right.

Miss Scott, Mr. Mannering, I'm delighted.

Please come and meet
some very charming people.

- Oh, we'd like to.
- Thank you very much.

This is my wife, Mrs. Crockett,
Mr. Robertson...

Miss Scott and Mr. Mannering.

Have you met the Pettigrew?
- Oh, yes, yes...

But here's someone you have to know.
Vladimir.

I want you to meet
two welcome guests.

Miss Scott and Mr. Mannering
from New York.

Mr. Vladimir Platoff of the Philharmonic.

How do you do, sir?

- Mr. Mannering here composes music.
- Orchestral, Mr. Mannering?

Oh, I'm afraid not,
they're popular songs.

That is, I'd like them to be popular.

Popular songs are my meet.
Let's hear about them.

- Oh, this is Mr. Don Holden.
- How do you do?

Excuse me, Miss Scott.

I'd better tell you, Don Holden
is a producer of musical films in Hollywood.

- I know.
- Oh, Mr. Mannering...

won't you play
one of your songs for us?

Oh, do.
Everyone would love to hear it.

This is Mrs. Eugene Beresford,
better known as Beres.

Mr. Mannering, Miss Scott.

Miss Scott, won't you please
have him play for us?

Do, it's his last chance.
My horrid husband wants to take me home.

Your last chance, Mr. Mannering.

Just one tune for Beresy.

- I insist.
- Goody, goody.

- The piano is all yours.
- Thanks, Mr. Holden.

Mr. Mannering is going to play
one of his own songs.

You do all want to hear it, don't you?

I want you to get out of here right away.

- Why?
- I've got a hunch something's going to pop.

Now grab a cab
and wait two blocks south.

- If I don't turn up in five minutes...
- What do you mean if you don't turn up?

And if you play one of your old songs,
that man Holden may know it.

- I'll play the new one.
- But you haven't got an end.

There's always an end.
Get the cab.

Mr. Mannering, we're all
simply breathless. Now, please play.

I'm afraid this song isn't quite finished.
It still needs work.

# No escape #

# from the dreams that have haunted me #

# Schemes that have taunted me #

# Through the years #

# No escape #

# From the doubts that have dawned my day #

# strewing my weary way with their tears #

# But then you were there #

# Waiting to care #

# And in your smile, #
# the hope that stilled my fear #

# No escape #

# From the joy that is in my heart #

# Making my second start #

# Fervent too... #

# For the truth in your eyes #

# Tells that love never dies, dear #

# No escape #

# From you #

# No escape #

# from the dreams that have haunted me #

# Schemes that have taunted me #
# Through the years #

# No escape #

# From the doubts that have dawned my day #

# strewing my weary way with their tears #

# But then you were there #
# Waiting to care #

What happened to the lady
that was with the gentleman who is singing?

Oh, I think she went, sir.
She took her coat.

Thank you.

# No escape #
# From the joy that is in my heart #

# Making my second start #
# Fervent too... #

# For the truth in your eyes #

# Tells that love never dies, dear #

# No escape #

# From you #

That has mood.
I believe I have a spot for it.

- Hm?
- Your song. I think I can use it.

- Oh...
- Here's my card...

- Let's lunch tomorrow, Mr...

You'll have to forgive me,
I'm helpless at names.

- My name is John Tracy.
- Of course, John Tra...

- Tracy?
- John Tracy, why...

- He's the murderer who's wanted by...
- Quite right, Mrs. Beresford.

He's a murderer!
Send for the police!

Aren't they already on their way,
Mr. Crockett?

I'm terribly sorry
if I've disturbed the party.

Mind if I have one for the road?

- Pat!
- I thought you'd do that.

- So you're giving yourself up?
- I told you to get out.

Not without you.
Or the police can take us both if you like.

Let's get him.

He went down the elevator!

We'd better split up. I'll meet you
at the corner of Green and Taylor.

I'm not losing sight of you
till we've talked.

But there's nowhere to talk.
The police are everywhere.

There's one place they won't be.
Oh, save your breath, we're running.

Well, couldn't be more peaceful.

Sit down, I'll tell you
the story of my life.

The past or the future?

Could be I'm overconfident coming here.

Doesn't a murderer always return
to the scene of the crime?

You didn't kill Hayden.

Even though you did try
to get arrested for it.

I still say that's the only solution.

After all, I have a debt or two
to settle with society.

Besides, I won't go to the gas chamber.

Killing Hayden was almost
justifiable homicide.

Pat, I've got to do it.

- Oh, how can you ask?
- I don't ask, it's what I want.

Now call Simon.
Have him tell Gunning I'm here.

It'll put you both in the clear.

I'm sick of playing piano anyway.

Do it.

Is that truly the way you want it?

It's the only way there is.

Know where he'll be?

At home.

Call him.

Call him.

All right.

- Hello.
- Hello, Simon?

Pat! I've been worried to death.
I heard you were out with a guy named Dykers.

- It's Tracy.
- Tracy?

I'm with him at Hayden's studio.

Are you out of your mind?
If you're seen with that guy...

I have been, but it can't hurt you
because you're going to tell Gunning he's here.

Keep your voice down.
Does he know what you're up to?

He knows I'm calling you.

If he's arrested he'll tell the truth.

He said he wants to take the blame.

Like crazy he does, it's a trick.

I'm coming over.

But you'll call Gunning first.

Simon, you've got to.
It's the only way out for you.

Sure, I'll call him then.

- Stay where you are.
- But I've got to be certain.

I said I'd call him, didn't I?
I'll be right with you.

- He hung up.
- Hm.

Then the cops will be here
in five or six minutes.

Cheers.

May as well have some music.

One of my own songs. A home recording
I made on this very machine.

I fell out of favor with Hayden,
but it seems my song didn't.

By the way, I want you to know that
I'm grateful for what you offered to do.

What I am doing.

I'm afraid not.

What are you getting at?

You didn't really think
I'd let you go through with it.

You can't stop me now.

- All right, why did you call Simon?
- Somebody has to arrest me.

And as you said, if he tells Gunning,
it'll put him in the clear.

Pat, you're joking.

Simon won't let you confess anyway.

He will when I tell him I love you.

Pat.

It's true, but there's nothing
I can do about it.

Except put it out of your mind.

You're not going to give yourself up,
do you hear?

If you think I'm without any feeling.

Would you take that record off?

It's the tune that was playing when I...
Please take it off.

- I said you're not going to give yourself up.
- You're hurting me.

Please take it off.

What did you say just now
about the record?

Only it was playing when I left here.

But it wasn't.
- I'd hardly forget it, would I?

But I know it wasn't.

I'd have noticed my own tune.

It was the radio.

It was the phonograph, that tune.
It was repeating when...

It couldn't have stopped itself.

No, it couldn't have stopped by itself.

But the radio was on when I came here.
It was playing that little Pinker jungle.

Yours and Hayden's glasses
were right there.

- The clock struck five...
- I didn't have a drink.

- There were two glasses.
- Only one, his.

And it was 2 o'clock when you came here.

No, five.

The clock struck just
before I heard you at the door.

- I heard you stumble in the dark.
- It was five.

Dawn broke right after I left here.

What are you trying to say?

That it wasn't I who stumbled
at the door, it was somebody else.

Somebody who came here at 2 o'clock.

Somebody who switched
the phonograph to the radio.

Somebody who found Hayden,
talked with him and drank with him.

- Hayden was dead, you saw him.
- Sure, three hours later,

but was he dead when you left here?

Or was he only...

knocked out?

Are we both crazy?

No, Pat, we're sane
for the first time in days.

Somebody else came here...

found Hayden, talked with him,
drank with him...

and killed him.

But who would've... who...

- There's somebody out there, again.
- Shh!

Simon.

- So you wanted to be arrested.
- No, not anymore. Not now.

Because something new has come up,
something we never dreamed of.

- What's he pulling?
- It's not him. Simon, I didn't kill Hayden.

Somebody else came here,
we can tell by the time and...

- You can't prove it, can you?
- We can certainly try if...

I said can you prove it?

Come to think of it, we can't.
So I'm giving myself up.

But I won't have that.
If anybody's going to be arrested...

No one's going to be arrested.

- But you called Bruce.
- I didn't, Pat. I couldn't bring myself to it.

- Tracy, you're leaving town.
- No way!

Sure there's a way.
In my squad car.

But I've asked to be arrested.

So Pat's name can be
dragged down with yours?

No soap.
You're coming now.

It's the squad cars.

Coming this way.

But you said you didn't call.

I didn't.
But you did, eh?

- No.
- Simon!

Out the back way.
My car's down below.

You heard me. I'm a cop.

I can shoot you in the way of my job.

You killed him.

And you wouldn't let Pat confess
because the truth would lead to you.

You?

But why?

Better go.
Both of you!

The next one will hit
and I don't mind who.

Go on!

Guess we'd better, Pat.

Well, it seems they're on this side too.

It isn't gonna work, Simon.

Up the ladder, to the roof.
We'll find a way over.

Go on up!
And no tricks.

Go on.

Up the stairs.

Who told you to stop?

You never loved me.
But why did you kill Hayden?

- Go on.
- It wasn't some other girl.

- Not Sally Doyle?
- Sally.

Of course.
Hayden knew Sally.

You killed Hayden because of Sally.

Where's the future, Simon?

We'll still reach my car.
Get moving.

Now watch yourselves,
there may be trouble.

Check those sketches for the one I said.

- Here's her bag.
- Cigarette's still burning. Lipstick on it.

- They must have just run out.
- They won't run far.

Tell them to watch out front.
I'll check the fire escape.

Anyone pass you down there?

Hold it!

No one down here, Lieutenant.

They must have!
We're coming down.

Up the ladder.

Go on up!
What are you waiting for?

Yeah, what for?

There they are.

I know you're back there.

Think you can get a chance now, huh?

Come on out.
You heard me.

I said come on out!

Come out!

- You came right into my hand.
- Simon, hold it!

John, are you all right?

- Are you in one piece, Tracy?
- I am, but I don't know how.

Bruce!
Why did you shoot?

- He was escaping.
- But not from me.

- What do you mean?
- Just this.

Sally Doyle gave you the air for Hayden.

When he moved in on Pat too,
you couldn't take it.

- Sally.
- You had me fooled, Simon.

Till I checked on your cousin and I found
there's no one named Dykers in Seattle.

That's when I had your telephone tapped.

I didn't go to Hayden's
to kill him, Bruce.

He talked, and then it happened
in the fight.

I could have told you that.

Your mistake was not telling me sooner.

Take him away.

All right, Tracy, follow us downstairs.

Oh, Pat, this is my only suit.

Well, you'll just have to get it cleaned.

You've got to look nice
if we're going to have lunch

with the man who's going
to buy your song.

- That's today.
- Of course.

Tracy's a right guy, miss,
but he don't deserve nothing as good as you.

He doesn't deserve anything
better than me.

Subtitles: Luís Filipe Bernardes