Original subtitles

(elegant jazz music)

(boat horn blows)

(elegant jazz music)

(tinny swing music)

- Want me to wind it up again?

- Nah, never mind.

We get the idea.

Almost worn clean through.

- It's the only one she had.

- Is that what clued ya in?

- That was part of it, yeah.

- You say she carried it

way up there?

- Yeah. - Why?

I mean, if she was tryin' to get away from him,

why didn't she drop that thing

so she could run faster?

Well?

- I don't know.

- How 'bout you, do you know?

- We never got close enough to ask her.

- Are you boys, uh, hidin' somethin'?

I mean, was it like you say or is there more?

- Look, Lieutenant, he took her up toward the catwalk

before we could catch him,

then the train came through and we lost sight of them.

It's funny what I thought when that happened.

Afterwards, when they disappeared.

- Yeah?

- I thought about Jack and the Beanstalk.

I thought maybe he just took her with him

and they climbed up that ladder

and they kept climbing

till they vanished into thin air.

- I, I'll try that theory on the Commissioner.

- They're gone, aren't they?

And that's all that's left.

- Clear case.

Murder, suicide.

Dvorovoi shoved her off,

then jumped in afterwards.

Uh, get 'em to send a grappling barge around, Eddie.

And, uh, tell Harrison I want a diver.

- [Eddie] Maybe he didn't go into the soup.

Maybe he jumped over here.

- What, on the tracks? - Yeah.

- Well there are the tracks.

Show me the killer.

- I mean in a train, you know?

Maybe he jumped in the train.

It was a freight, a long one you said.

- Well that catwalk's at least

10 stories high.

Are you tryin' to tell me that he jumped

from up there

onto a moving train?

- When you got 2,000 volts waitin' for ya

if you get caught, yeah,

you might try.

- Well my guess is he took a dive in the river.

Eh, we'll touch all bases anyway.

Yeah, run a check on that freight.

- [Eddie] Right.

- Look, uh, how well did ya know him?

- Last week.

- Ooh, authorities, huh?

- Look, you can't measure everything

with a clock or a calendar.

Either you dig it or you don't, Lieutenant.

- Now look, this is a homicide and a kidnapping,

so don't play cute with me.

What, are you tryin' to tell me

that you were pals with this freak?

- Look, Lieutenant, we're tryin' to tell you

what might have happened, that's all.

- Okay.

So tell me.

- We don't believe Dvorovoi's dead.

Or Anna either.

Maybe if I start at the beginning

and tell ya our part in it, you'll understand.

(sweeping instrumental music)

We came to Cleveland last Thursday

over the central viaduct,

the Flats below and around around us.

Every kind of industry you can think of

all going full blast.

It made me feel small somehow.

And I said so to Buz.

(gentle instrumental music)

You know, the more we travel around,

the further away the horizon looks

and the taller the buildings seem.

You think it would be the other way around.

- It's just the opposite.

The more we travel around,

the bigger we get.

Sooner or later, if we keep rollin' like this,

we'll be giants

'cause you gotta match the scene.

(gentle instrumental music)

- I remember that remark especially.

Because we were about to meet a man

who thought he was a giant.

Orlov.

And a real giant of another sort.

Dvorovoi.

(gentle instrumental music)

I guess you could say that for us,

all this really started when we checked in

at the sand and gravel yard.

We already signed on at the home office in Pittsburgh

for a three-week swing.

78.32 a week, and glad to get it.

(sweeping instrumental music)

Mr. Volovich?

- Yeah, I Volovich.

- Stiles.

Murdock.

- Here we are.

- You two?

You the two I got the start order on?

- Yeah.

- It don't make sense.

This is job for, uh,

for gorillas.

- Don't knock it.

Us gorillas, we gotta stick together.

(chuckles softly)

- You make joke, huh?

Why you want to work here?

- Well we travel around a lot, Mr. Volovich.

We take whatever we can get, okay?

- Okay.

It's your muscle.

Where do you stay?

- Well we just got here.

We haven't had a chance to look around.

- A clean towel each morning,

one change of linen on Monday,

and all the borscht you can eat.

You stay my place on Russian Hill.

You pay only, uh,

15 a week.

- Apiece?

- For both.

- That's much better.

- Okay, we'll try not to eat too much borscht.

(truck rumbles and hisses)

- Where is he?

- What's he done?

- He bothered her again.

- Come on.

- Hey!

- This time I'll teach him good.

(machinery churns and rumbles)

(machinery switch thumps)

Dvorovoi!

I warned you.

Don't talk to her, don't look at her,

don't touch her.

Just lookin' at you revolts her.

I'll teach you to leave her alone.

(groaning)

- Look, look, look.

Hey, look, look.

Hey.

(groaning)

- Volovich wasn't kiddin', was he?

Gorillas.

(moaning)

- He's tryin' to kill him.

(grunting)

- Yeah.

Hey.

Okay, big buddy, lunch break.

- No help.

I want no help.

He will

get

tired before me

and, and,

and then

I.

(panting)

(chuckling)

(dramatic instrumental music)

- Hey! - Hey, I say when.

- When. (groaning)

(exciting instrumental music)

(tense instrumental music)

(exciting instrumental music)

- Get out.

You're through here.

You're fired, you're evil.

- What?

- You pack your clothes and leave my house.

Today.

Now.

- I'll take care of him with a pitchfork.

- You're a real killer, aren't you, Jack?

- He didn't mean a pitchfork in Dvorovoi.

He meant in the fence of my house.

And he didn't mean to kill him on the conveyor.

Just teach him,

to give him a good scare.

No, tell them, Nikolai, tell them.

- Why should I tell them anything?

Who are they?

- Look, uh, this is all movin' pretty fast

for a couple of country boys.

Now what's all this jazz about a pitchfork in the fence?

- Dvorovoi, that is the name he brings.

In the old country, a dvorovoi is an evil spirit.

It comes from nowhere.

Like this one I send away now,

and it brings the dark with it,

and the evil.

My grandfather and Nikolai's,

they knew how to handle dvorovoi.

They stick a pitchfork in the fence

around the house.

That keeps them out.

- I don't believe any of that stuff, see?

But I'll do it anyway,

just to show the neighborhood that I got rid of him.

But if he ever comes back,

if he should ever look at Anna again,

I'll get rid of him my way.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- [Tod Voiceover] Just then, watching Dvorovoi walk away,

and listening to Volovich and Orlov,

I felt that something had torn loose,

something no longer planned,

something already out of control,

pulling all of us towards some unspeakable and savage end.

I wonder what would've happened

if Buz and I had left right then and there.

I wonder if things might've been any different

if we hadn't stayed.

(somber instrumental music)

What must have gone on in Dvorovoi's mind

as he walked up from the Flats to Russian Hill,

past St. August's Church

and down St. Tikhon Street to Volovich's house.

I guess we'll never know.

People in the neighborhood who saw him that morning,

going in to pack,

going in to get his few things and his one suitcase,

told the others later on

that he walked like a dead man.

Was it at this moment when he knew

he could never again see Anna if he left?

Or was it later he decided to do

what he finally did?

(melancholic instrumental music)

Only one thing is clear.

Anna was terrified of him.

The loneliness and desolation of her life

were beyond belief.

Though she herself must have been unaware

of just how lonely and desolate it really was.

From six each morning until late every night,

she cleaned and cooked and laundered

and tended house

for her father, a young brother,

and whatever borders Volovich managed to bring home.

She lived by the clock,

seven days a week, 52 weeks a year

as far back as she could remember.

There are those in the neighborhood who ask

what else should a woman expect?

I guess, in her own way,

she never let herself think too much

about anything else,

never dared to look out at the world

beyond Russian Hill.

She'd adjusted.

(door clicks)

(melancholic instrumental music)

- If,

if someone would hear me,

if someone would listen

from these walls, the stairway,

I would tell them I do not want to leave.

I am sick to leave.

(melancholic instrumental music)

This house,

the walls,

the stairway,

my room,

I will miss,

I will miss bitterly.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Who cares if

my windows are broken

or the wallpaper is stained

from old rainstorms?

There is

beauty here.

I am sick to leave.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Why do we live, do you know?

(melancholic instrumental music)

Wall,

stairway,

do you know?

(melancholic instrumental music)

I will tell you.

To keep hope inside,

always to keep hope burning.

Things will be better.

We live for this.

We say it every day,

and we never forget it.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Things will be better.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Goodbye.

I go now.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Always I will

remember this place.

(melancholic instrumental music)

And Anna.

(melancholic instrumental music)

(dramatic instrumental music)

(fluttering instrumental music)

(child shouting)

(fluttering instrumental music)

(rattling)

(melancholic instrumental music)

(church bell tolls) (dramatic instrumental music)

(jagged instrumental music)

- [Lt. Hodges] You should've called us right after the fight

in the sand and gravel yard.

- My buddy just told you,

Orlov goaded him on,

chose him up, started the whole thing.

Dvorovoi was angry, that's all.

Haven't you ever been angry at anybody, Lieutenant?

- Yeah, right now.

But that doesn't mean I do what Dvorovoi did.

(tires crunch)

Now look, my guess is that he grabbed her, see?

And they went in together.

Now he was a pretty chunky guy,

so they hit it heavy,

clear down to the bottom.

Right in the mud, I figure.

Now they're either stuck in that

or caught up on somethin' down there,

a cable maybe.

Anyway, go down, look it over.

- You can't see your hand down there, Lieutenant.

It's thicker than fudge. - Well eat your way

down there then!

Where's, where's Harrison?

I wanted that barge here today, not next winter.

- [Diver] Where'd they go off from?

Side or the top?

- Look, I told the lieutenant I didn't see 'em jump.

- We stopped the train 80 miles south from here.

The sheriff in Harrisville's checkin' the lineman now.

Apparently the freight slowed down

in three places between Harrisville and here.

They're gonna call us on the car radio

as soon as they've searched the train.

- That's not the answer, Simmons,

you know that as well as I do, no.

The answer is out there

in the Cuyahoga River.

Okay.

Now,

he, uh, broke up the pitchfork

and headed up St. Tikhon Street, huh?

And then what?

- I better tell him more about that.

It's about the records and,

and how that happened.

Tod was working through the lunch hour,

tryin' to pick up some overtime,

and I had gone out for our laundry,

and came back to drop it off

before I went back to the gravel yard.

That's when I got a double zinger.

I heard the record coming from Anna's house,

and it hit me how out of place it was

here in this neighborhood.

And I saw Dvorovoi.

He hadn't gone away after all.

(sophisticated jazz music)

He didn't have a suitcase with him,

so I figured he must've found another place to stay,

somewhere close, I remember thinking,

so he could be near Anna.

Call me a kook, but I felt sorry for the guy.

If they saw him back on the block,

it might be rough, I thought,

so I'd tell him he better leave.

Then I remembered the times I'd hung outside

some chick's place,

wantin' to be noticed.

So I figured

he's a big boy, he can handle it,

and I went inside to find out about the music.

(sophisticated jazz music)

Hi.

What's the name of this song?

I, uh, I heard the beat.

I thought I was, uh, missing

some kind of a bash or something.

(sophisticated jazz music)

Oh, nobody bothered to introduce us last night

when we met.

I'm Buz Murdock.

The room at the end of the hall on the left,

the last one, the little one over the staircase.

Uh, what's the song?

(banging)

- [Boy] Lunch ready, Anna?

- What's the name of the song?

(sophisticated jazz music)

(record player thumps)

It's a great arrangement.

It must be your favorite song.

You must, you must really dig it.

It's, uh, it's worn.

- It's the only one she has.

She got it at the store

for saving navels,

box tops.

- What do ya like?

You name it, and I'll buy ya a stack of them.

- She doesn't know.

- Well, listen to the radio, and, uh,

make a list.

Really, it's my pleasure.

- The radio's broken.

- Does he do all the talking in the family?

- Only when Papa's at work.

- I, I asked you, Anna.

- She can't talk.

(melancholic instrumental music)

- Anna Volovich was a mute.

Right away, I started feeling sorry for her,

standing there in the middle

of that old-fashioned dining room,

holding a broom in one hand

like it was part of her,

and the record in her other hand.

But I'll tell ya something,

I couldn't see any self-pity in her eyes, Lieutenant.

Not a bit.

(melancholic instrumental music)

Look, Anna.

Tomorrow's Saturday.

It's an early day for us.

I'll drive downtown and buy ya

the whole music store.

I'll buy ya some, um,

some rhythm and blues, and some, uh, swing,

and some Dixieland and some vocals

and I'll even get ya some symphonies.

That's to go with your long hair.

How 'bout that?

- Papa won't like it.

He only lets her play the record once a day,

from twelve o'clock to one o'clock,

when he's not here.

And Nikolai will be very angry.

- Nikolai, who's Nikolai?

- Nikolai will marry Anna someday,

maybe.

- Does he mean Orlov?

That big slob that works down at the yard?

Look, no strings.

I'd just like ya to have 'em.

I don't care what Papa says, or Nikolai.

Besides, that's, that's tomorrow's problem.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

That was Friday.

But I still remember Dvorovoi's face,

like I'm seeing it right now.

And it sure wasn't the face of a killer.

It was the face of truth,

a man who cared about people,

a man busting inside

from keeping his feelings locked in,

a man who loved.

(church bell tolls) (sad instrumental music)

Sunday was a holy day on Russian Hill.

Willow Sunday,

with the kids carrying candles home

in what they call catkins blessed by the priests.

Maybe if the timing had been different,

if Anna hadn't come home just in from church,

maybe if Tod and I had been by ourselves

when Orlov arrived,

none of it would have happened.

I don't know.

She was like a kid with a dozen candied apples

just from looking at the records we'd brought her.

But she never got to play them.

Not one of them.

(record cracks)

- You don't care who stays under your roof.

Any old trash in the street.

Long as you can collect your $15 a week.

I warned you not to bring that monkey-man here.

Now ya bring these two.

They come with records

to turn Anna's head and make her foolish.

You'll leave her alone.

She's mine!

No! (record shatters)

(dramatic instrumental music)

No!

- Don't interfere.

He will be her husband.

- That doesn't give him the right

to push her around.

(exciting instrumental music)

(melancholic instrumental music)

(dramatic instrumental music)

(gentle instrumental music)

- Three of ya, huh?

And you let him walk away.

- But who will marry her now?

With Nikolai gone,

who will marry her now?

- Orlov, uh, broke your daughter's record.

Then Dvorovoi broke Orlov's neck.

Is that how you want it to stand?

- I can't live forever.

Who will take care of her and Mikhail when I go?

- Maybe you can help sort this out, huh?

- One minute he was there,

the next minute he was gone.

So sudden, so

quiet.

- And you go along with Volovich's statement

that he did it because Orlov broke the records

you brought her?

- What difference does it make why he did it?

- We gotta know what we're dealin' with here, don't we?

There are killers, and killers.

Now if he's a psycho,

and who else would kill a man over an 89-cent record,

we've gotta know that.

Once a madman's loose on the street

and he's tasted blood,

there's no tellin' how many people he'll kill

before we run him down.

- Lieutenant, Dvorovoi is no madman.

My guess is he did to try and set Anna free.

- Set her free from what?

- From human bondage.

From cooking 9,000 more meals,

from, from wringing sheets with her hands,

and making beds for people she doesn't even know.

From living in a dump like this

where nobody will give her a 1.85 to fix her radio,

or let her play the only record she has

except from 12 to one.

To set her free from nowhere.

From you, Mr. Volovich,

and the whole stinkin' household

you, you head up.

And if you're gonna say we're fired, forget it.

'Cause you haven't got the guts.

'Cause you don't wanna lose that $15 a week

we pay you for that closet you set us up in.

- You sure sound like the attorney for the defense,

like you're in favor of what happened.

- Yeah, well, I'm, I'm sick about what happened.

I'm sick and I'm shook.

But you keep askin' why

and I'm tellin' ya why.

Dvorovoi was, was tryin' to help Anna bust out,

even if it meant sacrificing Orlov's life.

And his own.

Let's face it, when he killed Orlov,

he killed himself, too.

- That's for sure.

All the bases are covered.

The roads out, the bus depot,

terminal, docks, the airports.

We'll nail him, Mr. Volovich.

That's a promise.

Now word of advice.

Don't put your sympathies in the wrong cheering section.

We're all of us dead for a long time,

and nobody, but nobody,

has the right to hurry any of us on our way.

(dramatic instrumental music)

No matter what the reason is.

(melancholic instrumental music)

(people chattering)

(speaking foreign language)

(people chattering)

- [Mr. Volovich] Where is your sister?

Where is your sister?

- In her room.

- But why?

Why has she stopped serving?

- She went up a long time ago, Papa.

She locked the door.

- You tell her to get right back down here.

- She won't, Papa.

She was crying.

- Mikhail, don't anger me.

Tell her to come down now.

Right now.

- Yes, Papa.

(people chattering)

(swinging jazz music)

(door rattles)

(knocking)

- Anna.

(knocking)

Anna!

(knocking)

Anna! (knocking)

How can you shame us like this?

(knocking) Anna.

(pounding) (swinging jazz music)

Nikolai was right.

This is your fault.

Turning her head, spoiling her.

(swinging jazz music)

- [Buz] Do you mind if we keep that open, Mr. Volovich?

- I warn you!

- She can't talk back,

and tonight, especially tonight,

with everybody burying the dead,

she needs a voice.

(sweet instrumental music)

(fleshy slap)

- This is my fault.

I've spoiled you,

given you too good a home.

Other girls your age work in factories all day

and still do the house and the children

and the cooking at night.

But out of my pity for you,

and my shame for your,

your deformity,

I made it too easy for you.

Well,

now we shall have more discipline in this house.

No more music for one thing

because the devil himself, Anna, is in that record.

Now you stand away

and you give me that record

and that machine,

or I will smash it right here in front of you.

(gentle jazz music)

Pack your things.

Leave this house now.

Right now.

If you don't, I call the police.

- This is your house,

and Anna's your daughter,

and we don't have any rights here,

but before we go I wanna tell you something.

The only thing Anna has to take her out of here,

to let her escape even for a few minutes,

is the sound of music.

In a whole wide world of glib people,

she has to stay silent.

And you call that a deformity.

I say it can teach her to search

for the heart of things,

the secrets the rest of us never hear

because we're all too busy talking.

So you go ahead, Mr. Volovich,

you break that record just the way Orlov smashed the others.

We won't break your neck.

We don't have to.

'Cause any man that would do a thing like that

is already dead.

You keep listening, Anna.

Don't ever stop listening.

- Goodbye.

I'm sorry we can't do more.

(easy-listening jazz music)

- I go downstairs now.

You and I, Anna, we settle this

when everyone go home.

We settle it my way.

We throw the devil and his music

out of this house.

(easy-listening jazz music)

(record scratches)

(quietly dramatic instrumental music)

- [Tod Voiceover] We left the Volovich house

some time after 10 to find a motel

till morning.

We planned to pick up our checks at the gravel yard

as soon as they opened for business the next day,

and then move on.

It was just a little after 10:30,

we heard the first news bulletin.

- [Radio Announcer] We interrupt this program

to bring you a special news bulletin.

Anna Volovich, age 24, of 4213 St. Tikhon Street

here in Cleveland

is reported to have vanished tonight

under mysterious circumstances.

Confined to her room

and grieving over the slaying of her fiancee this Sunday,

the girl disappeared tonight

from a house full of neighborhood mourners

without anyone seeing her go.

It is feared she may be the second victim

of the same slayer who killed her fiancee,

Vladis Dvorovoi, the Mad Monkey-Man of Russian Hill.

More details on the regular eleven o'clock news edition.

And now back to the music of Nelson Little.

- [Tod Voiceover] That's when we turned around

and drove back to the Flats, Lieutenant,

and call you to ask if there was anything

we could do to help.

(gentle instrumental music)

- I wish I could give you a mountaintop

way up high

so you could play your music

whenever you wanted to,

as loud as you wanted to.

But

all I can offer you is this.

Did I hurt you?

You see, I had to grab your hand,

I had to grip you tight.

I was afraid you would run

like you did in front of the church on Sunday.

I had to bring you here.

You see,

my life is finished.

I have killed.

If I could die as easily as goin' to sleep,

I would just

lie down and die.

But

so I'll,

I'll run and keep running

till somebody catches me

and does me the final favor and kills me.

Oh.

I'm, I'm sorry, I

forgot how I must look to you.

You see, I couldn't go and leave you

in that house.

All alone.

Please,

take this.

It'll take you to New York.

There's a school there.

They'll teach you how to speak with your hands.

It's the, the Landing Institute on 28th Street.

Please.

And, and then they'll find work for you and,

and other friends that you can speak to.

(melancholic instrumental music)

You must have a great deal to say

after so long a silence.

(melancholic instrumental music)

I did hurt you.

And

you're not frightened?

No, no, you keep it.

I have no use for it.

You will see, Anna,

it will be easy for you.

You, you'll learn how to speak with your hands.

Already you've learned how to speak with your eyes.

They've come alive.

What you must remember of Sunday

is not the memory of the killing,

of the evil of what I did,

but what may come of it

that is good.

That is the only way

that a wrong

could be righted.

And remember of me

that I cared for you,

not as a man ordinarily cares for a woman,

but

for what I see hidden in you.

Remember it was not your lips that I loved

but the smile I know

that they held.

And it wasn't your eyes

but

the, the light that I know will

come to shine through them.

And that, that's all that, that I wanted to say.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

Goodbye, Anna.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

No, Anna.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

Don't make me run away from you.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

Go back, Anna, go back.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

(tense instrumental music)

(siren wails) (tense instrumental music)

- Even though you told us

to stay out of it, Lieutenant,

we didn't stop to analyze which was the right side

and which was the wrong side.

All we knew was that we cared about what happened

to Dvorovoi and to Anna.

We cared enough to stay out all night

and keep looking.

(siren wails) (tense instrumental music)

(gun bangs)

(tense instrumental music)

(gun bangs)

(tense instrumental music)

(guns bang)

(dramatic instrumental music)

(horn blares)

(dramatic instrumental music)

(horn blares)

(bridge rumbles)

(horn blares)

(train bell rings) (train rumbles)

(sweet instrumental music)

That was the last we saw of Dvorovoi and Anna.

(bittersweet instrumental music)

When the train had finally passed,

we climbed the ladder,

but there was no sign of either one of 'em.

Just Anna's phonograph and the record.

- I got the linesman's report.

Nothin'.

No sign of 'em.

Of course, that doesn't mean anything.

They could've hopped off

at any one of the three slower points.

I have the local sheriffs searching the areas.

- Okay, okay, you stick with that.

But for my money,

we're gonna come up with 'em right out there.

Now don't you get it?

The phonograph.

There's your answer, right there.

You heard Stiles' story.

She wouldn't take a step without it.

No, if they'd gone for the train,

she'd have taken it with her.

- I don't know, Lieutenant.

The way she was running after him,

I had the feeling she didn't need anything anymore

except him.

(bittersweet, dramatic instrumental music)

(elegant jazz music)

- [Announcer] This has been a Screen Gems Film presentation

from Columbia Pictures.

Herbert P. Leonard, executive producer.

(sweeping instrumental music)