End of bullshit time!
I've had a good look at you and young Epiphany
doing your hot shoe number with the chicken.
Listen!
I ain't up on this voodoo shit. I'm from Brooklyn.
We ain't all Baptists here. - What's with this Proudfoot girl?
She's a mambo priestess, like her mom. Has been since she was 1 3.
When was the last time you saw Johnny Favorite at a chicken dance?
He used to run around with Ma mambo. - I ain't seen him since before the war.
And the chicken foot in the john? - It means I got a big mouth.
It's not big enough. What's this fucking star
in your mouth? I'll tell you what.
I'll give you my hotel number. Gimme a call if you hear anything.
You never know.
Next time you get a delivery of a chicken foot, you might need help.
As far as I'm concerned, any dead chicken is a good chicken.
Only cops and bad news don't knock.
Only private dicks sleep late.
Quite a dream you were having! - I was on my way to Mandalay.
Shit! There's some leak up there!
Here! ls this your name?
That your hotel?
You're standing in it, ain't you? - Your handwriting?
I think so.
Then perhaps you can tell us why we found it in the hand
of a dead guitar player.
Toots Sweet is dead?
This one wasn't so quick, this one took time.
How did he die?
Technically? Asphyxiation by his own genitalia.
And not so technically?
They cut his dick off and choked him with it.
Then redecorated his apartment with his blood.
When did you see him? - I interviewed him around 1 :00. - About what?
A missing person.
Who?
A guy who took a walk 1 2 years ago.
There was a photo of him and Toots. - Who is the party you're looking for?
I can't say. I'm working for a New York lawyer.
Name? - Come on, man!
Winesap! You want his number, his address?
Ask Tess Truehart over there, it's in the book.
Under "W," genius! - Do you know Ted Williams, the baseball player?
Alright, is that it, guys?
That's it.
You can go eat lunch, but don't stroll too far.
Not until we talk to this lawyer.
Ever watch the "Mickey Mouse Club?"
Do you know what today is?
Today is Wednesday.
It's "anything can happen" day.
Hey man, do you want a tune?
Yeah, I got a tune for you.
Hiya, boys!
Same to you. I'm getting kinda hungry.
Do you want to sell some of those?
1 0 cents a sack. - Sure, give me a sack.
Listen good! Margaret Krusemark's old man wants you on the first train home.
Take that fucking thing away from me!
Don't, or the dog will bite your fucking face clean off.
What happened to you?
A dog bit me.
So, what do you want?
Right now, I need a laundry.
Listen, Epiphiny . . . - Epiphany.
There's something I want to ask you.
The other night I saw you and Toots boogying with the cock-a-doodle.
Looked like you were having some party.
What's your problem? It's a free country.
Not for chickens. - Oh yeah, your thing about chickens.
Listen, Toots is . . .
Toots is dead. - I know, I heard.
You set him up. - No, I didn't.
You were the only one that knew I was seeing Toots.
You sent the gift-wrapped chicken foot, didn't you?
Toots had a big mouth.
I guess he did, judging by what the cops found in it.
Quite a cute religion! - Nailing a man to a cross ain't so cute either!
You've got to kill the chicken to make the soup, eh?
We don't go around murdering people. What about your Johnny Favorite?
Now you remember him after all. - Yes, he was my father.
I'll pick the baby up later, okay? - He'll be all right.
Anything you're holding out, now is a good time to tell.
Nothing to tell.
Johnny never came back from the war.
Mama waited and Mama died. Sad and simple.
There's too many dead bodies floating around, even for Louisiana.
I'd tell your old man to look out for you.
You do have a husband? - No.
No?
Jesus, you've got beautiful eyes!
Really.
The kind of eyes that tell what's going on inside.
Right now, you're scared. - I'll manage.
Listen . . . - Yes, I'll call you if I hear anything.
Call me if you don't.
Alright?
I have a message for you.
Thank you. - You're welcome.
I'm so glad you could come. - I didn't know you were in town.
I'm speaking in Baton Rouge and thought I'd catch up on your progress.
I'll tell you,
the progress ain't too good.
I've found out a lot of stuff, but so far . . . no Johnny Favorite.
How unfortunate! - All I've got is a belly full of hocus-pocus and . . .
3 stiffs.
Dead bodies, Mr. Cyphre.
Murders.
I got Fowler, Johnny's doctor, bumped himself off.
This old voodoo guy Toots Sweet.
He got choked to death with a part of the body meant for pissing with . . .
This is a church!
The whole thing has to do with religion. It's very weird.
I don't understand it. It's ugly.
They say there's enough religion to make men hate each other but not love.
Do they say that?
I'll tell you something. There wasn't much love around for Johnny Favorite.
He was bad luck!
It's starting to rub off on me. I'm a murder suspect already in two cases.
The police found my name and my address in Toots Sweets' hand.
I know, Winesap told me. You must be careful, Mr. Angel.
And the third murder?
I checked out Johnny's old society girlfriend, Margaret Krusemark.
Do you know her? - Vaguely.
Vaguely? I'm a little fed up with fucking vaguely.
"Vaguely" is putting a noose around my neck and I'm choking, so . . .
Did you know her or not?
I knew about her, but I never actually knew her.
Tell you what, she was doing my chart.
I gave her Johnny's birthday, February 14th.
Except someone got to her and took out their own Valentine's card.
They slit her open and cut out her heart.
I guess she couldn't predict the future for herself.
The future isn't what it used to be.
And your conclusions? - I haven't any.
All I know is that Johnny is running around bumping off everyone he knew.
And more and more, it's me who's on the line for it.
I'm being set up and it's scaring the shit out of me.
So why don't you just level with me and tell me what the fuck is going on?
Just Johnny Favorite and the debt that's owed to me.
I have old-fashioned ideas, about honour.
An eye for an eye, things like that.
Who the fuck are you?
Watch your language!
I don't give a fuck, if this is a church.
I don't like churches. - Are you an atheist?
Yes, I'm from Brooklyn.
I'll be in town for a day or two, let me know what else you find,
and if you need more money . . . - No!
But if I'm not careful, that 5,000 bucks you gave me could
buy me a seat on the electric chair.
Frightened eyes never lie.
Come on! Come inside!
Where's your child? - He's at Mincie's. She'll bring him.
She's got 14 of her own, so he'll be okay there.
You're welcome to stay here, or I can get you a room.
No, it's okay.
I'm going to have a drink. Want one?
Well, have one anyway.
I've been thinking . . .
What the hell did your mother see in a guy like Johnny Favorite?
I don't know. Whatever he had, it sure stole her heart away.
To tell you the truth, the guy was a creep.
She sure missed him.
What does a lady see in a guy who runs around chopping up pigeons?
They say it's always the bad-asses who make a girl's heart beat faster.
Did she ever say anything about him?
Just two things. - What?
That Johnny Favorite was as close to true evil as she ever wanted to come.
What else?
That he was a terrific lover.
How old are you?
1 7.
Kind of young to have a kid, isn't it?
Old enough.
Where did the father go? - I never knew him.
I'm sorry.
I don't know why I took this room.
I can't believe this!
It was a Bambouche. When spirits possess you, it's called "chevalier."
I know that: Chevrolet.
Chevalier. - That's what I said: Chevrolet. - Mounted by the gods.
So the gods got you pregnant? I understand now. I'm sorry.
I'm not. It was the best fuck I ever had.
Want to dance?
Here?
Yes, here.
I got bit by a dog this morning, I can't move around.
You won't feel a thing.
Alright, I'll dance with you.
But you've got to promise. - What's that? - No chickens!
Alright, I'm coming!
I should've recognised the knock.
At least you got a reason for sleeping late.
Down here we don't mess with jigaboos. The colored folks keep to themselves.
I'm not from down here. - You cut yourself?
Dog bit me.
Somebody called Margaret Krusemark figure in your missing persons case?
No, why? - She's dead. That nigger guitar player of yours,
he didn't matter a shit. He was into voodoo, they 86 each other every week.
But this Krusemark dame, she comes from a Louisiana money family.
Two people bumped off in a week, what's the connection?
Similar circumstances!
Did she have her dick cut off too? - No!
Some fucker cut her heart out, neat as a butcher.
Look, mine's a missing persons, it's not a murder.
I want the name of the party you're looking for. - Talk to the lawyer.
I did. A fancy mouthpiece, gave me the same big city shit as you.
What should I say? Why don't you and Effie Klinker just fuck off
and leave me alone? - You ass-wipe!
You play jump rope with Louisiana law and I'm going to stick
your big city smarts right up your New York ass.
This Krusemark was into black magic and all that shit.
Nothing is worse for a cop than people who get killed for nutso reasons.
Sorry about the mess. Maybe your nigger can clean it up.
What are you singing?
It's by Johnny Favorite. My mother used to sing it all the time.
You okay?
Shit!
What do you want, Mr. Angel?
I thought you knew. - Why should l?
Two of your morons with a matching poodle have been chasing me for days.
I'm looking for Johnny Favorite.
As far as I know, that dance band scumbag is dead.
That dance band scumbag probably killed your daughter.
Who is employing you? - I can't say.
I'll pay. - So do they.
1 2 years ago, you and your daughter snatched Favorite from the nut hatch.
You gave a junkie doctor 25 grand to pretend Johnny was still there.
You did a good job until a week ago.
You used the name Edward Kelley.
Let's go over here. It's a little private and you can sample our Gumbo.
I've got an acid stomach. Cajun cooking kills me.
Pity about your stomach! You'd have enjoyed our Gumbo.
I was Edward Kelley. It was me who paid Fowler the 25 grand.
Did Favorite know you? - No.
He acted like a sleep walker. He looked out of the window at the lights.
Where were you taking him? - Times Square. New Years Eve, '43.
We dropped him off in the crowd, and he disappeared forever.
Or so we thought.
You're telling me you paid 25 grand for a guy and lost him in a crowd?
I did it for my daughter.
Some sort of hocus-pocus she and Johnny were fooling with. She was obsessed.
I know, I found a mummified hand in her room.
The hand of glory. It's supposed to open any lock.
It was the right hand of a murderer, cut off while his neck was in the noose.
That's what Margaret believed.
Black magic! - Black, white, what's the difference? Margaret was always . . .
Evil. - Evil as a dunghill.
Everyone speaks about someone else. Margaret wasn't evil.
She was a strange kid! She was into Tarot cards before she could read.
Who got her started? - Some maid, or governess, who knows.
Everything you tell me is a crock of shit!
You got her started!
You're a devil worshipper! - The Prince of Darkness protects the powerful.
Shit! - I can't help if you don't believe it.
Come straight with me, you slime-bag, or I'll save the state an execution!
I introduced Johnny Favorite to my daughter.
I watched him conjure up Lucifer in my home. He was deeper in it than me.
He made a pact with Satan. He sold his soul.
You expect me to swallow that? - I don't give a damn!
That's a crock of shit, you lying toad!
He sold his soul for stardom. - For stardom?
Satan rose from the depths.
But he tried to outwit the Prince of Darkness.
When he made it big, he tried to duck out of it.
That's a crock of shit!
Johnny found an obscure rite in an ancient manuscript. He needed a victim.
Someone his own age. - Why? - To steal their soul.
Toots and Johnny picked up a young soldier.
Who? - Just a soldier
celebrating New Year's Eve in New York.
They took him back to Johnny's hotel, where they had the ceremony.
What ceremony?
The boy was bound naked on a rubber mat, there were complicated incantations.
A pentacle was branded on his chest.
Margaret gave Johnny a virgin dagger.
He sliced the boy clean open and ate his heart.
It was still beating when he wolfed it down.
Johnny wanted to become that soldier.
Before he had worked it out, he was drafted,
injured and sent home without even knowing who he was.
Who was the boy?
Only Johnny knew. He put the dog tags in a vase and gave it to Margaret.
It was Margaret's plan to drop him off in Times Square.
The last place he remembered before it happened.
He needed a victim. Someone his own age.
To steal their soul.
He sliced the boy clean open and he ate his heart.
Who was the boy?
Johnny wanted to be the soldier.
Maybe he gained the guy's soul, but he still looked like Johnny to me.
I know who I am!
Alas . . .
How terrible is wisdom if it brings no profit to the wise, Johnny.
Louis Cyphre . . .
"Lucifer!"
Even your name is a dime store joke.
"Mephistopheles" is such a mouthful in Manhattan, Johnny.
Do you think posing as the devil,
just because it scared a superstitious old guitar player,
and that witch, and that nutty old man,
do you think it's going to scare me? It ain't, because I know who I am.
You killed them, and you're trying to pin it on me.
I know who I am.
If I had cloven hooves and a tail, would you be more convinced?
You're crazy.
I know who I am. You're trying to frame me.
I know who I am. You murdered them people! I never killed nobody!
I didn't kill Fowler,
I didn't kill Toots,
and I didn't kill Margaret or Krusemark.
I killed no one.
I'm afraid you did, Johnny. - My name's not Johnny!
All killed by your own hand. Guided by me, naturally.
You were doomed from the moment you slit that young boy in half.
You've been living on borrowed time and another man's memories for 1 2 years.
I want to tell Winesap, he knows! - He's dead.
Nasty accident!
Don't worry, no one will mourn one less lawyer. Death's everywhere these days.
But what gives human life its worth, anyway?
Because someone loves it, hates it.
The flesh is weak. Only the soul is immortal.
And yours belongs to me!
I know who I am.
That's it Johnny, take a good look!
However cleverly you sneak up on the mirror, your reflection
always looks you straight in the eye. - I know who I am.
I know who I am!
Why did you come back?
I live here.
Who is she?
She ain't: Angel, Harold.
She's my daughter.
Bullshit! Who is she?
Epiphany Proudfoot.
She stayed here for a little while.
Long enough for you to kill her? Or ain't that your gun up her snatch?
You're going to burn for this.
I know.
In hell!