Somebody turned on a light.
It's a faraway light...
but I don't have to be alone in the dark anymore.
My head hurts.
Somebody's here with me.
Easy. Lie still.
Tell him it hurts.
Why can't I talk?
Doc, look at me. Look at me hard.
See it in my eyes. I need somebody.
It hurts me.
Help me.
He came to a little while ago. Seems to be in a lot of pain.
He'd be letting you know it, too, if his jaw weren't bandaged so tightly.
Let's control the pain. Quarter grain M.S. every four hours, more often if necessary.
- Yes, sir. - What's happened to me?
What am I doing here...
when I don't even know where I am?
- Is he gonna be all right, Doc? - Taylor? Every chance in the world.
It was a pretty tough job though.
- He must have been right on top of that grenade when it blew. - He was.
- How's he gonna be, Doc? - In time, as good as ever.
That's good enough. Nothing but clean sheets from here on in, Taylor.
- You're gonna be okay now. - Taylor. Who's Taylor?
So he's okay now. So what?
What about me? What about me?
I don't know my name.
You. Talk to me. Act like I was alive, notjust somebody with eyes and no name.
Think of a name. Taylor.
Think of another name. There must be other names.
Taylor. No.
Taylor. Taylor.
Taylor.
Good morning.
It is one too. One of Honolulu's finest summer mornings.
Why not take a look at it?
Come on. Try.
See that tree? There's one just like it outside my window back home.
I'll bet there's one you remember too.
The doctor said that you're to sit up for a while today.
Your jaw's knitting beautifully.
The wires will come out in a day or two.
When you get tired, rap on the nightstand.
It won't be long before you'll be able to call for me.
I'll bet that'll be a relief.
I'll call all right. I'll yell.
I'll want to know why they call me George Taylor.
Who's George Taylor, and who am I?
For all I know, that's the first tree I ever saw.
Still, that's what it is. That's what I call it.
They call me Taylor. So for all I know, I am Taylor.
I've gotta take time, work on it.
Time to think. Hard.
Now I'm tired.
Where's the nurse? The nightstand, rap on it.
What's that? A wallet.
Must be my wallet.
Yeah. There I am again.
That's me all right.
Good old George Taylor.
How have you been, George?
"These are my last words to you.
"That's why I write them. So that I can always be sure that these were my last.
"But I despise you now, and the memory of you.
"But I'm ashamed for having loved you.
"And I shall pray as long as I live...
"for someone or something to hurt and destroy you-
"make you want to die...
as you have me."
Who writes letters like this?
Who do they write them to?
Men they despise, whose memories they despise.
The memory I haven't got.
Won't be long, and I'll have to talk. Think fast. Now they only know my name.
If I tell 'em I don't remember, they'll backtrack.
They'll dig up that memory and throw it in my face.
I've forgotten that man. Somebody's praying for him to be hurt and want to die.
I won't let them know I can't remember. I won't let them dig him up!
Taylor, George W.
Hello, Taylor. Sit down.
You're now in the process of being separated from the armed forces of the United States.
You feel you have a right to know answers to a lot of questions...
about yourself and how you'll fit into civilian life.
Those questions need not necessarily be restricted to the G.I. Bill of Rights...
employment, insurance and such.
Oh, by the way. Before I forget.
Your seabag, it's been located.
- Any change in your civilian address? - My civilian address.
I could ask one of the boys to drop it off.
I'll, uh- Maybe I'd better pick it up myself.
Well, why wait around? It might be this afternoon, it might be a couple of days.
I imagine you'll be wanting to get back to Los Angeles.
We could have it delivered to the, uh...
Martin Hotel.
Will you be going back there?
Martin Hotel. In Los Angeles. Yes.
I'll be going back there.
Can you give me some information?
- That depends. - A man named George Taylor lived here three years ago.
It must have been in January. Did he give an address he had before he came here?
Or did he leave a forwarding address?
- We're not supposed to- - It's kind of important.
Yeah?
Summer, 1942.
January, 1943.
"T," "T," "T." Taylor.
- Did you say George Taylor? - Yes.
Afraid you have the wrong hotel, son. There's no George Taylor in our books.
Well, maybe it was November or February.
This runs through from July to July, and there's no George Taylor.
I'm sorry, son.
What's the matter? Aren't you feeling all right?
Yeah. I... I guess I just made a mistake.
I thought, uh-Well, I see you got the Purple Heart, and I thought that maybe-
No, no. It's okay.
- I don't suppose you've got a vacancy, have you? - We're all filled.
- Always one or two. - Thank you.
Our, uh- Our bellboys are all out of the army...
but they still ain't convinced they won't get jobs as bank presidents.
- It's, uh, 618, straight ahead as you get off the elevator. - Thank you.
And, uh, I'm sorry about not finding your friend.
Yeah. This is it all right.
That'll be 13.60 storage charges.
Three years and seven months it's been laying here.
Another five months, and it'd have been sold for the charges.
That's the longest I ever heard of anybody checking a briefcase.
Even a trunk- Unless it had a body in it.
Hey.
Larry Cravat?
"Your pal, Larry Cravat."
Thank you very much, sir. Come again.
And I'll be sure and send that uniform.
I'm George Taylor. I just got out of the marines. I've got an account here.
Here's my identification.
I'd like some money.
Of course. I'll check the account and have it for you in a moment.
Larry Cravat.
My friend who opened the account for me. Could you give me his present mailing address?
Cravat. Larry Cravat. Sure.
- If you'll pardon me a minute, Mr. Taylor. - Anything the matter?
What's going on? Isn't the account all right?
It's perfectly all right, Mr. Taylor.
If you need any more identification, I have my discharge-
- If you'll just wait a minute. - Wait? For what?
If you don't mind, there's some questions we'd like to ask you.
- Questions? I don't get it. - It'll just take a minute, Mr. Taylor.
It'll have to be some other time.
Maybe I can help you.
I was looking for Cravat, Larry Cravat.
What made you think he was hiding in the desk?
Well, I got a letter from Cravat on your stationery.
Lots of people use our paper. Nobody here by such a name.
The letter was written three years ago. Maybe he worked here then.
I was working here then. I don't know no Larry Cravat.
- Maybe he used to come in a lot. Maybe somebody else knows him. - Nobody else is here but me.
He might come in again. Will you tell him to get in touch with me? It's very important.
George Taylor at the Martin Hotel.
George Taylor, the Martin Hotel.
Thanks.
Hey, uh, maybe you oughta try around the corner.
- What's around the corner? - Café. Called the Cellar.
Because it's in a cellar.
Lots of guys get loaded there and then come over here to sweat it out.
- Maybe you oughta ask there about your pal. - What time's it open?
How do I know? When it gets dark.
Thanks. I'll try it.
- Larry Cravat come in yet, honey? - Larry Cravat?
- I'm sorry. I wouldn't know. - Thanks anyway.
- Good evening, sir. - Mr. Cravat's table.
- Mr. Cravat. With a "C" or a "K"? - "C."
I'm very sorry. Mr. Cravat has no reservation this evening.
- Well, he might have forgot. I'll wait for him at the bar. - Thank you.
Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.
Mr. Mitchell anybody special?
- He's a customer. - You must know a lot of customers.
- You must know a lot of names. - Enough. What'll you have?
You name it.
- Been around here a long time? - Ever since they took the bars off the door.
Friend of mine used to come in a lot. Maybe you know him.
Larry Cravat?
I, uh, used to know a Larry Cashman, but that ain't Cravat.
Well, maybe you could ask around.
Maybe some of the other boys would know him.
Could be. I'll, uh, ask around, Mr. -
Taylor. George Taylor.
I'll ask around, Mr. Taylor.
You forgot to knock.
I can explain if you'll let me.
Out.
Not right now.
- Get out of here. - I'm sorry.
- Suppose I yell the roof off. - Then I'd have to stop you.
I bet you'd try, at that.
You know, I can't make up my mind whether this is a pitch or you're some kind of a nut.
- But if this is your idea of a pitch, then I know you're a nut. - Who owns this place?
- Who wants to know? - I do.
This and a half a dozen other spots are owned by a very nice guy named Mel Phillips.
He keeps me working. Have you got a match?
He must keep a lot of people working.
All kinds of people.
Sure. Busboys, waiters, captains, cooks.
Characters that sit around on barstools waiting for me.
- Is that supposed to make sense? - What do you think?
In about two minutes, a bouncer is coming back in here with no sense of humor.
He's a foot bigger than you in all directions. That's what I think.
"Christy darling, by the time you get this, I'll be Mrs. Larry Cravat.
Mary."
Thank you. How terribly gauche of me.
- Not at all. - Do you happen to know when Larry will be back?
- Larry who? - Thompson. Larry Thompson.
He's my uncle. He lives just down the hall.
- Sorry. I don't. - I couldn't be more fâchée.
After all, a lady shouldn't have to wait at all for a gentlemen - even her uncle.
Much less in a public hallway with no place to sit down...
to wait for Larry.
There's a place to sit down in my room.
How nice of you to suggest it.
This is rather exciting. Unconventional, to say the least.
Haven't you got a French word for it?
Should we just abandon convention and introduce ourselves?
- My name's Phyllis. - Phyllis what?
Oh, I imagine it's one of those things.
Rich, high-class family wouldn't want it known...
their daughter waited around crummy hotel halls.
- Is that it? - Well, that's putting it a little crudely.
Not too rich and high-class.
A compact that cost three bucks tops, a torn hem on your skirt...
a matchfolder that says you eat at a cheap cafeteria...
and you weren't waiting for anybody but me.
Unless you can see through a door. You should have thought of that when I closed it.
So, what goes?
You know, there's been a terrible shortage of men.
Yeah. So we heard in the Pacific.
This war must have been murder on you poor women.
We used to cry our eyes out about it.
So, when I heard there was a man in 618-
- You thought he might know where Larry was. - Yeah.
Only there isn't any Larry. It's just a name that you made up to start me talking.
- About what? - Oh, just this and tha. Quelque chose.
Maybe I just thought you ought to know about me and that...
I ought to know about you.
- Did you have fun? - I've had more fun drinking a bromo seltzer.
- Hello. - This is the barkeep at the Cellar.
I got that information you wanted about... that certain party.
- About Larry Cravat? - We're closing up now.
You come down here, I can answer some questions.
- You can answer one right now. Who told you where to reach me? - I'll wait for ya.
- Come in the front way. - Yeah, but I never told you where I...
Taylor.
Somebody wants to see ya.
How do you do, Mr. Taylor?
Nice of you to come. Please get in.
Hubert, open the door for Mr. Taylor.
I didn't come here to meet you.
True. But I came here to meet you.
Professor Einstein to the contrary...
there is just so much time.
Every moment gone is a moment gone.
Please. Step in.
- Why? - Get in the car.
The bartender was paid to call you...
to arrange this rendezvous.
He has long since gone home to his wife, his bed and his racing form.
- You and I have much to talk about. - What, for instance?
Are you being stupid, Mr. Taylor, or stubborn?
- What, for instance? - I can't believe you're stupid.
Larry Cravat then, for instance.
- What about Larry Cravat? - That was going to be my question to you.
- You tell me. - Come.
Sit beside me, and we tell each other.
I'll listen from here.
Not stupid...
but stubborn.
Mr. Taylor, are you ready to tell me the whereabouts of Larry Cravat?
Then will you tell me...
why you want to know?
I'm just looking for him. He's my friend.
Larry Cravat has no friends...
and you are to stop looking for him, Mr. Taylor.
Do you understand? You are to stop looking for him!
- Take him out of here. Dump him someplace. - Where, boss?
There was an address in his pocket.
"723 Gramercy Place."
Take him there.
Okay. Okay. I quit.
Now what?
How does the inside of your mouth feel?
Like it's full of raw hamburger.
That's just what it looked like.
- What did they hit you with? - Rubber hose.
- I can't figure you out. - You're not an open book, exactly.
Why did you steal Mary's picture?
Well, for one thing, she's married to a man I'm looking for.
She's Mrs. Larry Cravat.
If you even knew Mary, then what you just said...
is as dirty and rotten as anything I've ever heard.
I don't know her, but if she's Mrs. Larry Cravat, I want to.
- You can't. - I've got to.
Mary was my closest friend. She was my partner.
I went home one Christmas, and she wrote to me.
In one letter, she met Larry Cravat.
In the next, she was in love with him.
The third had that picture in it.
I received one more letter from her after that.
She waited three hours at the city hall, but he never showed up.
When I came back, she was dead. An accident.
She didn't look where she was going when she crossed the street.
She couldn't see. She had her heart in her eyes.
I'd like to meet Larry Cravat someday.
Quite a character.
I'd like to meet him too.
So would the boys in the back room. They didn't believe I didn't know where he was.
Why do you want to meet him?
I think I'll go now.
How far do you think you'll get?
The nearest foxhole maybe. They'll be watching my hotel - all sorts of people.
What's your name?
Taylor. George Taylor.
It's all over town. I may run for dogcatcher.
Look, I've gotta talk to somebody.
I'll go crazy if I don't talk to somebody.
I'm somebody.
I think you are.
What do you know about amnesia?
Not much. Something that happens to you.
You forget who you are or where you belong.
- Isn't that it? - Yeah.
Every now and then you read about it in the newspaper-
a guy named John Doe was picked up in a fog.
Never happens to anybody you know.
It happened to me.
Yeah. For all I know, I might have been born six months ago.
That's a joke because six months ago I woke up in a hospital.
That's where babies are born, in a hospital.
Only this was different. It was in the South Pacific, and it wasn't the maternity ward.
My jaw was wired. I couldn't talk.
I couldn't ask who I was. I... I nearly went nuts.
Then I found my wallet.
There was a letter in it. No name. No signature. Just a letter.
It-
It told me about myself. It told me good.
From then on I lived with that letter.
It went around in my head like a crazy squirrel on a hopped-up treadmill.
I was scared, and I was sick.
Sick to my heart at what the letter said I was like...
and scared of anybody finding it out.
Scared I'd find it out myself. I didn't want to know anymore.
So I kept my mouth shut.
I got away with it, got my discharge.
And I thought maybe I could start with a brand-new scorepad.
But you can't just throw away-
How many years of living? I don't even know.
Do you know what it's like, Christy, to be alone in the world?
Really alone in the whole world.
A billion people, and every one of them a stranger.
Or what's worse, not a stranger.
Somebody maybe who knows you, hates you...
wants you to die.
Then last night I found another letter.
This one was from Larry Cravat.
It said he was my pal.
Imagine, I had a pal.
So I started looking for him.
That was this morning.
Since then, I've been chased by hoodlums, beaten up.
That's quite a pal you're looking for.
I can't be choosy. He's the only one I've got.
It's like that joke about the crooked gambling house. He's the only one in town.
So why don't I go find another town?
- You mean run away and hide? - Why not?
Sure. Why not?
So I'll be alone for a while. It won't be for long.
I'll make up a story for myself.
I got away with it before. I can do it again.
I'll go where people will believe me, where they'll leave me alone.
Where I won't have to answer questions and ask 'em.
As long as you believe yourself and leave yourself alone and not ask yourself questions.
I'm tired of being pushed around. The war's over for me.
- I don't have to live afraid anymore. - Except when you're by yourself.
And alone.
I've got to find that guy. Even if he's the heel of the world...
I've got to find him, because he knows about me.
What am I gonna do, Christy?
You'll keep swinging.
Something's got to break.
Who's that?
Take it easy. Maybe this is the break.
I forgot to tell you. I phoned Mel Phillips while you were out...
- and asked him to come over. - Why?
Because I want him to beat you up some more.
- Hi, Mel. - Hello, Chris. What's the trouble?
It's in there.
George Taylor, Mel Phillips.
This is the character I phoned you about...
the one that keeps falling through doors with me on the other side.
- Hello, Taylor. - Hello.
Some hot coffee, Mel?
- Thanks, Chris. No sugar. - I know.
I understand your trouble started at one of my places. The Cellar.
- Do you want to tell me what happened? - It's all right.
You may have heard I don't like that sort of thing.
I've kept the hoodlums out of my clubs, and they're gonna stay out.
- I'd appreciate your telling me what happened. - It's all right. Forget it.
I called Mel before you told me about things.
Thank you, Chris.
If you make up your mind to stay around, I'm sure he can help you.
All right, Taylor. Will you help me?
There's a reason I was so late getting here, Chris.
The police called just after you did.
One of my bartenders was found in the vacant lot.
- They figure he was dumped out of a car. - Which bartender?
- John. - Was he the one I talked to?
I asked him if he knew a man I was looking for.
After that, he set me up with the two characters that chased me to Christy's room.
Who was the man you were looking for?
Name's Larry Cravat. He's beginning to bore me.
Larry Cravat. That's funny. I think I know it, but I can't place it.
- What does he do? - I don't know.
Whatever he does, he seems to keep pretty busy.
Why are you looking for him?
- I just want to find him. - Private reasons?
They're good enough.
Well, anyway, there are two of us looking for him now.
- There are more than two of us, Mr. Phillips. - The police, for instance?
- Maybe. - Any reason why we can't go ask them?
They might want to know who's asking and why.
Which takes us back to the private reasons.
Look, Taylor. If I go to the police, and I probably will...
- don't worry about my bringing you into it. - I appreciate that.
I could put you in touch with a friend of mine. He's a police lieutenant.
His name is Kendall. He's an all right guy. He'd keep it off the record.
Thanks just the same.
Do what you can though, will you, Mel?
- You know I will, Chris. - That's my boy.
You'll have me believing that. Look out.
So long, Taylor.
So long, Mr. Phillips. Thanks.
Not at all. Good luck.
Good night, Chris.
- Well? - He's a nice guy.
That's the only kind I know.
Except me.
- I'll go get some sheets for that couch. - I can't stay here.
Why not?
I, uh, won't need any sheets. This'll do fine.
Well, then, I'll see you in the morning.
Don't forget to look under your bed, lock your door.
I'll do that.
- All right. Suppose we take a good look at each other. - Let go of me.
Who told you to watch me? Who sent you here? Who?
Sent me here? I've lived three blocks away for 17 years.
Just because I stopped under a tree to light a cigar. What are you, crazy?
Funny it had to be that tree. And it's pretty late to be taking a walk.
What's so funny about that tree? Suppose I work nights, and when I come home-
What business is it of yours anyway?
Why don't we call a cop and let him ask the questions?
Sure. Let go of me, or I'll call a cop.
Now what?
I can't play alone like this anymore. I'm getting the jumps.
Chasing shadows. I'll be hearing noises next.
Christy, call up Phillips, will ya?
Tell him I want to talk to that police lieutenant. Kendall.
Ah. In case you don't know it, George, this is why you fought the war.
The four freedoms and fried shrimps for Christy.
That was the battle cry at Iwo Jima. Thank you.
Here he comes.
- Hello, Mel. - Hiya, Don.
Sorry I'm late. Looked for a while like I wouldn't get away at all.
Go on. Sit down. Sit down.
Yeah, we're a little shorthanded over at the office.
Big postwar boom in homicide.
We went ahead and ordered. What'll you have?
Oh, I never eat lunch. No. It keeps me sleepy all afternoon.
- You've seen Christy around the Cellar. - Yeah. Sure. How are ya?
And this is the friend I called you about. Tom Carter.
- Tom, meet Lieutenant Kendall. - Hello, Lieutenant.
Hiya, Carter.
Hey. That stuffll kill ya.
Say, I know what's strange about you.
You've got your hat off. It's hard for me to believe you're a detective.
You're kidding, but I get that on the level all the time.
It's almost impossible to make a pinch without your hat on.
They just won't believe ya. Well, that's the movies, I guess.
If they'd only make pictures where detectives would take their hats off indoors...
just like anybody else.
I was wondering, Don, whether you could give Tom here some information.
Tom Carter, wasn't it? What about?
Would you know anything about a fella named Larry Cravat?
- Quite a bit. Would you? - Not a thing.
Pal of mine in the service asked me to look him up about a personal matter.
This, uh, pal of yours in the service-
I suppose he was killed before he could tell you very much about Cravat.
- That's right. - Oh, that's too bad.
- You know where he can be reached? - If we did, lady...
maybe we'd reach for him.
No, he dropped out of sight quite a while ago.
We did a lot of lookin', but since it was impossible to believe...
that he was any smarter than us, we decided he'd been bumped off.
Now, if you'd have asked me that two days ago, I'd have guaranteed that.
What happened since two days ago to change it?
Yesterday an ex-soldier, named George Taylor...
showed up at a bank with a letter from Cravat.
That's why I asked you whether your pal was dead.
He acted like-
He acted like he didn't want any part of the place.
Hasn't been back to his hotel room since. It's interesting, you know?
You said if you knew where Cravat was you might reach for him.
- Is it all right to tell us why? - Oh, sure. It's no secret.
When Cravat faded out, two million dollars faded with him.
It was all over town at the time. Didn't you know about it?
I never knew anybody that could count that high.
That pal of yours, the one that got killed...
he didn't have a couple million dollars stashed away?
Sure. Lots of us did. We save it out of our 60 a month.
I'm not impressed. I make that much in tips on Monday night.
- But may I ask one tiny question? - Mm-hmm.
Who was Larry Cravat?
Well, to begin with, he was a private eye.
- He came out- - Pardon me. It sounded like you said "eye."
A private eye is a private detective.
- Oh. - Yeah. He came out here maybe five years ago from the East.
He got a license, painted his name on the window and put his feet on the desk.
Then for about two years, he investigated husbands that played golf when it rained...
and wives that didn't come back from the public library till midnight.
But he paid his rent on time.
And then somebody dropped two million clams right in his lap.
Coffee?
- Please. - Tom?
I never touch it. It keeps me awake.
You better have some. You're going to be pretty sleepy this afternoon.
That was some drop- two million bucks. How's a thing like that happen?
Well, it's a long story. Don't ask for details, but here's most of it.
It started over in Germany when one of the Nazi hotshots saw the handwriting on the wall.
He sent the two million over here.
And then before he could come over after it...
he got knocked off by one of the fellow members of the lodge.
And here was this big chunk of dough floatin'around loose in this country...
like a pair of dice at a firemen's ball.
It moved east to west.
Each time it moved, it left a stiff behind it with his fingers stretched out.
The boys play rough for that kind of lettuce, you understand.
Somehow it got to Los Angeles. Somehow Cravat got mixed up with it.
I don't know much more than that.
Except that when Cravat blew, so did the jackpot.
- Sounds like one of those "to be continued next issue" stories. - Yeah.
Well, I gotta get back. I shouldn't have come, but I did it instead of my lunch hour.
You shouldn't go without eating like that. It's not good for you.
- Lieutenant. - Yeah? Something else?
- How does this other fella tie in? This, uh-What's his name? - Taylor.
George Taylor. I don't know yet.
Maybe not at all. Maybe he has as little to do with it as any of us.
I should think you'd have picked him up. You must have a description.
Oh, those eyewitness descriptions. Right now he could be anything...
from a jockey to a Siamese twin.
Later on you narrow 'em down. No. He'll, uh- He'll probably come in by himself sometime.
If not, we'll go out and pick him up.
These-These fortunes. They kill me.
This ain't bad.
Well, I'll, uh, see you some more, huh? Bye.
- Bye. - Bye, Don.
Not bad at all.
"Confucius say, "When something smell bad, keep nose clean."'
Boy, I certainly fooled him.
I told you he was a smart cop.
He was a hungry cop. I'll say that much.
You know, anybody that dug up Cravat would be digging up a couple of million with him.
That's a good reason for trying. That's even a good private reason.
It's not mine, if that's what you mean. I've got no interest in the money.
Well, I'm a businessman, and frankly, I'm interested right now.
Maybe we can work something out...
where you wind up with Cravat, and I wind up with what I can get.
- Help yourself. - And I wind up with a pair of nylons, I suppose.
You name it, Chris. All or any part of what I've got.
Speaking as kind of a partner now...
I'd like to know a little more about what happened at my place last night.
You might ask around about a character named Anzelmo.
- Anzelmo? - Very polite man with a very wet face.
He shut his eyes every time Hubert hit me, then he told him to hit me again.
I've heard tell of Anzelmo. They say it in whispers.
I'm sure he's just a misunderstood boy.
Well, of all the nerve. A ticket.
And I had lunch with a cop.
Seems somebody left a note.
For you.
"L.C. 42111/2 North Summit. San Pedro."
Isn't that a little childish for a detective lieutenant?
Leaving notes around like Easter eggs.
- What makes you so sure it was Kendall? - Who else?
- Who else, Taylor? - I've gotten beyond caring. L.C. is only one name in my book...
and it means I've got someplace in particular to go this afternoon.
- Maybe I oughta go with you. - Yes.
- No, thanks. - But I've got my own reasons now.
They come after mine. Cravat and I gotta be alone when we meet.
- All right if Phillips drops you at the hairdresser? - Sure.
Good.
Things don't happen like this, you know. It's too easy, too pat.
- Practically an invitation. - It might be smarter not to go alone.
- Probably would be. - But you're going anyway.
What would you want me to do?
Will you call me? Will you promise to call me by 6:00 at the latest?
- I'll be at the Cellar. - Are you going to worry, Chris?
This is my car you're driving, with four new tires.
- They don't grow on trees, you know. - Tough guy.
Sure. I'll call ya.
So, what's on your mind?
I got a message that Larry Cravat was at this address.
Oh, you sure that's the name?
- You sure it ain't John Smith or Joe Blow or No-Hit Hennessey? - I said Larry Cravat.
Yeah. That's what you said. You remembered it. You got a head on your shoulders.
Now take it out of here before I bust it.
You're getting a little too excited, mister. Maybe you're Larry Cravat.
How do you like this guy?
Here, look. It didn't work. Now beat it.
You thought that she was home and I wasn't. So I am home.
So I answer the door. So you quickly ask...
"Does Oscar Fink live here?" or, "Do you want to buy a canary?"
- I don't know what you're talkin' about. - That's all, brother.
What's going on out here?
What's he selling?
You wouldn't know, of course.
You never seen him before, of course.
If it's insurance, I'll take a little on him. Double indemnity.
- What's that mean? - It means if I beat your brains in, I get paid double.
Whatever it is, mister, we don't want any, and we haven't got any.
- I'm looking for Cravat. - Whoever he is.
- Well, look somewhere else. - Yeah. Look someplace else.
Maybe she could suggest where.
Gotta have a special place, huh?
He wants to know, can you suggest someplace he can look?
Doesn't he know I'm a lady?
Tell him I busted my crystal ball, and he'll have to find one for himself.
She busted her crystal ball. You'll have to find one for yourself.
- Crystal ball? - A fortune-teller.
Ask her which one she goes to.
Which one do you go to? Crystal ball is a fortune-teller?
Tell him I never use 'em, and he can go look on Terminal Dock...
and ifhe doesn't find one, he can jump off it.
She says go look on Terminal Dock...
and then jump off it!
There seems to be a feeling of mistrust in the air.
- I wonder why. - Have you come for revenge, Mr. Taylor?
Do you perhaps have a revolver or some other lethal weapon with you?
I turned all those in when I got this button, Anzelmo.
I'm as surprised as you are, if you are.
I am. Believe me.
As for you, what would you do if I were to call Hubert?
I'm not a hero, Anzelmo. I'd run like a deer.
Then you have my word. He will not molest you.
A mere figure of speech. My word is worthless.
What are you doing here?
- I was told to come. - By whom?
Phyllis.
We were closely associated at one time.
Professionally, of course.
Dear, loyal, sentimental little Phyllis.
Come sit here, Mr. Taylor.
There is a vast difference in comfort between these chairs...
and those upon which our clients wait for a consultation.
Besides, the lighting effect will set the proper mood...
of mystery and intrigue as we talk.
What about the lighting effect in my eyes last night? What about the beating I took?
I wish with all my heart that I could take it back.
- Another figure of speech. You haven't got a heart. - True.
But I've got a brain. And it was stupid of me. I apologize.
Please, sit down.
What do I get? My palm read or my horoscope?
Let us use cards, Mr. Taylor. Let us place them face up on the table.
In this case, an imitation crystal ball.
I'll listen for a while.
At the present time, young man, I am nothing more than a small-time chiseler.
I say this frankly and bitterly because I do not wish to be a small-time chiseler.
It's a humiliating position.
Still, it's better than being an honest man, which I would find intolerable.
I was once a great thief and a magnificent scoundrel.
I had my reverses. Who has not?
And I will omit the story of my descent to my present squalid condition.
It would only bore you and incriminate me.
I waited and worked day and night for a chance to come back.
Three years ago I had that chance in my hands.
I had-
Name a fantastic sum of money, Mr. Taylor.
Two million dollars.
You've put one of your cards alongside mine.
Thank you.
As my hands closed on it, the money disappeared like that.
And with it, a Mr. Larry Cravat.
So, understand my position.
For three years I have lived in this stink...
waiting for some hope, some word.
And yesterday it came.
From a Turkish bath, from a nightclub.
I approached you. You were reluctant.
You wouldn't say why you were looking for him.
You didn't know why he wrote to you...
why the $5,000 deposit- not even where he was.
Mr. Taylor, I had to make you understand that there was nothing I would not do...
to find Larry Cravat!
I got the idea. I understood it the second time I passed out.
But I can't help you, Anzelmo. I don't know any other answers than the ones I gave.
That I do not believe.
Is this where we send for Hubert and his rubber shillelagh?
Mr. Taylor, I do not even have to know where Cravat is.
- I want you just to communicate with him for me. - I can't. I wouldn't know how.
That I do not believe either.
Since your arrival there has been considerable activity connected with him.
You cannot be unconcerned with it.
You cannot be without some contact, some connection.
Supposing I could reach Cravat. What would the message be?
Phyllis, darling.
You look like a couple of witches. What cooks?
How thoughtful of you, little one, to send dear Mr. Taylor to me.
Stop talking like Bela Lugosi.
How did you know where to find me?
I didn't know I was going to find you.
I got a note that said Larry Cravat was at 42111/2 Summit.
- I don't get it. - From whom was the note?
I don't know. And don't try to beat it out of me. I don't know.
Why would anybody want to tie me in with Larry Cravat?
Anybody. I can think of somebody who would have every reason in the world.
Mr. Cravat himself.
- Did you know him? - I... We just met.
I was going to know him a lot better. Anzelmo-
The professional relationship which I mentioned earlier.
We are still partners, Phyllis. Are we not?
Don't start that now. Don't try to mix me up.
Till you called me yesterday, Cravat was a name in an old phone book.
You sent me after Taylor. All right. I went.
After all, I'm smart, Anzelmo. You think I'd bring him down to that dump if I were on my own?
- You think I'd send him to you? - Sit down and listen.
I was about to give Mr. Taylor a message for Larry Cravat.
- Then you do know- - I said listen!
This is what I want you to tell him.
That even two million dollars is of no use to a man in the electric chair.
Suppose he doesn't understand the message.
- He will. - Suppose he says he doesn't.
Suppose he wants to know where you fit in.
A reasonable question, which I will answer.
Mr. Cravat is wanted by the police for a murder which occurred on Terminal Dock.
This very dock, three years ago.
The murdered man was a gentleman from the East. Mr. Steele, I believe.
The police have evidence that Mr. Cravat and another man...
were on the dock that night.
They do not know who the other man was.
However, Mr. Cravat's immediate and prolonged absence...
has strengthened their belief that Mr. Cravat was the murderer...
and that the identity of the other man...
is relatively unimportant.
Let's say Cravat knows all that. He still doesn't know where you fit in.
For a considerable amount of money, subject to negotiation, of course...
I will present the police with the other man on the dock that night.
He will confess to the murder and free Cravat of suspicion.
- How do you happen to know who he is? - If he's reluctant to confess...
the police will find a suicide...
and a signed confession...
complete in every detail.
That might be better in any case.
- What makes you think Cravat'll go for a crummy deal like that? - Because it's to his advantage.
- Because it's probably to your advantage as well. - What do you mean by that?
Mr. Cravat deposited $5,000 to your account. Why?
He was not a charitable man.
It is more likely that he was paying for services rendered.
What were you being paid for?
There is every likelihood that the unidentified gentleman on the dock that night...
was you, Mr. Taylor!
Sit down and play for the boss.
Do you want to be sent, brought, or do you have something particular in mind?
How about "Where's My Wandering Boy Tonight"?
Where, indeed?
Christy, who is George Taylor?
Just a boy, a wandering boy.
- Kendall was in to see me about him this afternoon. - So?
He asked a lot of questions I couldn't answer.
Kendall doesn't work out of the missing persons bureau, you know.
- He's homicide. - He steals fried shrimps.
He wants to help, and so do I. You asked me to, remember?
What kind of trouble is Taylor in?
It won't make any difference to me.
Maybe it will.
Because maybe it's murder.
He called me. It's a murder that happened three years ago.
Cravat was mixed up in it, and George thinks maybe he was too.
- Thinks maybe? - He's not sure. He's got no way of knowing.
- I don't understand that. - Well, don't try, but believe me, he hasn't.
I'll believe you. Where is he now?
He phoned me a few minutes ago.
He's been down at the harbor trying to find out all he could about it.
There was a witness to the murder, a man who used to work on Terminal Dock.
- A man named Conroy. - Conroy.
Nobody's quite sure what happened to him.
- George found out where Conroy lived. He's gone to his house. - Why?
To get some answers to some questions.
- Makes sense to me. - Not to me.
Taylor doesn't make much sense to me. Taking a beating to find somebody he doesn't know...
running down a three-year-old murder.
Christy, who is he? What's his angle? Where do you stand?
Like always, my two feet firmly planted in the air.
Take my advice and stay away from him.
Don't get involved... in any way.
Confucius say, "When something smell bad, make new friends"?
When something smells bad, believe me, it's in the air like an earthquake.
Don't stand too close, Christy. Don't get hurt.
In any way? I'm the girl with the cauliflower heart.
You think. You're as tough as a love song.
You've got your face turned up and your eyes closed, waiting to be kissed.
Might not be a kiss, baby. Open your eyes and look around.
That's mighty fine advice, Mel, and I'm beholden to you.
There's only one thing wrong though.
What?
I'm nuts about the guy.
Good evening. I wonder if I could talk to Mr. Conroy.
Come in.
My name is George Taylor.
Please forgive me. It was so dark.
I wasn't expecting-
For a moment, I didn't know you, George.
You've met me before?
I said I was sorry.
Oh, sure. That's all right.
Well, won't you sit down?
Could I get you something?
No, thanks. Really, I... What about Mr. Conroy?
You're being very formal, I must say.
Father's better, thank you.
- Better? - At least, the doctors keep telling me so.
I haven't asked for some time.
I went for so long, and they kept saying the same thing.
There are signs of improvement.
- But it's been so long. - How long?
Ever since his accident. Three years.
His accident, three years ago?
I... I keep forgetting.
You haven't been here.
It was on his way to work.
So strange, nobody saw it.
They found him lying there.
He'd been hit by an automobile.
He didn't know. He couldn't remember.
They've been trying to help him.
- He's been there ever since. - Been where?
Lambeth Sanatorium. Oh, it's very nice.
They're very kind. I've often wished that I...
Memories have a way of getting stuck together...
like pages in a book, haven't they?
The story in the paper that morning- A man had been murdered.
Father read it aloud to me.
I thought that very odd. He seemed pleased and happy.
There was someone, he said, who'd make us rich, and I would have a new dress.
I'm afraid this one isn't very pretty.
The man who was gonna make you rich, what was his name?
- I don't remember. - Was it Larry Cravat?
It was so long ago.
I don't remember things well, really.
Only certain things. It's so funny.
They seem to shine like little lights.
And everything around them is dark.
You said the Lambeth Sanatorium.
- Did I? - Well, didn't you?
You're going away now.
Well, I've got- I've got to see your father.
- You've acted very strangely. - I didn't mean to. It's just-
You haven't even called me once by my name.
It's Elizabeth, in case you've forgotten.
I'm sorry, Elizabeth.
But it's been such a long time.
Yes, it has.
And things change, don't they, in time?
But time doesn't change.
It goes on and on... and doesn't change.
I know, because I've watched it.
The nights, the days, the nights, always the same.
Dawns are always gray, and the days... can have different colors.
But the nights are black. And they're all empty.
No. Only people change.
They grow old and ugly...
and... pitiful.
Don't stare at me like that.
I'm no concern of yours. Really, I'm not.
You don't know me. Don't worry.
I never saw you before. I lied.
I made believe.
Please, don't be angry with me.
You see, I've made believe so much for so long-
That I wasn't alone, that I had friends...
that I wasn't afraid...
that I wasn't dead, that I was alive.
I wanted so to make believe that-
somebody loved me.
I know a little bit about being lonely.
I'll come back to see you soon again, Elizabeth.
- Good evening. - Good evening.
- I'd like to see Michael Conroy. - Conroy?
- Oh, I'm afraid you can't see him. - Why not?
For one thing, it's after visiting hours.
I'm his nephew. It's very important.
We consider our rules important too.
For another thing, Mr. Conroy doesn't have visitors.
Well, he wants to see me. I've been away in the Marine Corps.
He doesn't know I'm back. It'll be good for him.
I'm sorry, but I'm not authorized to make exceptions.
- Then, who is? - Perhaps if you'd apply in writing.
I want to see him now. Who do I have to convince?
I'll speak to Dr. Grant.
I wonder if you could help me. I'm looking for Michael Conroy's room.
- Who? - Michael Conroy.
Dr. Grant's given me permission to visit him.
Nobody ever visits him.
Look. Just tell me where his room is. I'm a very good friend of his.
You're a friend of Michael Conroy?
- I'm more than that. - 214! 214!
How dare you wander about the corridors of this sanatorium by yourself.
The door was open. I was just curious.
That's not true, Doctor. The door was closed.
Tom. See that this man leaves here at once.
What about Conroy? Why can't I see him?
- Because his condition does not warrant it. - Why not?
What is his condition? I'm his nephew. I have a right to know.
You are not his nephew. And if you know Michael Conroy at all...
you must also know that for the past three years, he has been insane.
Out.
Conroy?
The truck. I didn't see it. It came out of nowhere.
My head- My head hurts.
Are you Conroy?
Michael Conroy.
My daughter, she'll worry. Will someone-
Her name is Elizabeth. And we live at-
We live at- It's-
It's on my draft registration card.
Your draft registration?
Yeah.
Imagine, an old duffer like me.
Still, you can't tell. The war's very young yet.
Sure. Sure. It's only 1942, isn't it?
My back- Now my back's beginning to hurt.
Conroy, the other night, a couple of nights ago, maybe...
a man was murdered on the dock.
- You saw it. - Yes. I saw it.
Do you remember who did it? Was it Larry Cravat?
I heard the shot and then another shot.
And I was afraid. And I hid.
There was some running. And then- then it was quiet.
Just a man lying there, and he was dead.
And-And there was a suitcase.
- He dropped it. - Who dropped the suitcase?
- One of the men who ran away. - Larry Cravat?
I hid it under- under the dock...
up in between the pilings.
Nobody ever goes there. He'd have to pay me for it.
I'd be rich. That was clever of me.
You said Cravat was there. Which was he?
Did the three men arrive together?
The one with the suitcase, did he do the shooting?
Conroy, look at me.
Was I the man with the suitcase? Did I do the shooting?
Look at me.
I...
Hello, there.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Well, it is a little late, but come in.
You fixed the bed for me.
As a matter of fact, what with the housing shortage and all...
I left my name at the U.S.O. in case any soldiers or sailors-
You've been waiting up for me... to come home.
I just thought-
Anyway, there's some sandwiches over there with their toes curled up.
They're for you too.
I guess I missed my dinner.
Well, what are you waiting for?
- Nothing, I guess. I can't wait anymore. - I don't understand that.
- It's no good, Chris. I've gotta get out of here. - Now? This minute?
Now. This minute. I found Conroy. He'd been stabbed. He died in my arms.
- I had to fight my way out. - Why? Why didn't you stay and tell the truth?
- With a dead man in my arms? - Well, it was the truth, wasn't it? Why run away?
Because that's all I can think of to do. Because I live running away.
Was Conroy able to talk? Did he say anything before-
Yeah, everything I wanted to hear, all about a suitcase he hid under Terminal Dock.
- What about Larry Cravat? - Could have been a couple of other fellas.
And it could have been you, Anzelmo said.
Why don't you say it too?
It's what you're thinking. Why don't you say it too?
I don't know what I'm thinking. I've got my eyes closed.
I'm trying to open them and look around.
You were running away the night you ran into my life.
A man was killed because you asked him some questions.
You were beaten up. You wanted to run away again.
All you knew about yourself was in a mysterious letter you found.
Then you lost your head and went after an innocent man in the street.
Innocent? That's the one that killed Conroy.
- Hello. - Hello.
I've come for George Taylor.
You must be a little mixed up.
This is my house, and I'm not George Taylor.
You haven't even got the right sex.
- Nobody can say you haven't. - Thanks.
You know, it's a little late at night for playin' games.
I'm kinda dopey when I get waked up. I guess I'm gettin' old.
I don't see how you do it. Still dressed, even your shoes, the lights still on.
What do you say we don't try to mix each other up? Is Taylor here?
They're both in the kitchen- he and Adolf Hitler.
- You'll get promoted for this, Lieutenant. - Ah.
Yeah, that's a good one. I guess I was a little stupid about that Taylor.
I figured he was gettin' pushed around, didn't know who by.
That's why I left that note in your car.
I thought that he'd take one good look at Phyllis and get off the merry-go-round.
- I'll tell him if I see him. - No. No, don't.
It'd just make him feel bad.
See, it looks like he killed a man tonight- a man named Conroy.
I'm sure glad he isn't here. I'd hate to pick him up here.
That way, you'd be mixed up in it.
Newspapers, all that. Those maniacs with the flashbulbs.
Well, if you do see him, tell him I'll be down at the station for a couple of hours yet.
- If I see him. - Yeah. Good night.
- Good night. - Oh, uh, one more thing.
You know, you ought to keep your car in the garage.
It isn't good to leave it out all night like that... with the motor so hot.
I was coming out when he stopped me by talking about you.
He knew it. He knows everything.
He's the original seeing eye.
Two hours. That's not much time. Or is it?
It's enough. Turn out the lights while I get a coat.
- Where are we going? - On a treasure hunt after a suitcase under Terminal Dock.
You're not. You're staying out of this.
- Remember what Confucius said. - Now, you listen to me.
If it turns out that in your whole life you ever killed anything bigger than a horsefly...
then I'm crazy, and I wanna be locked up.
Tell that to Confucius.
Chris.
This looks a little bit rugged. Maybe you better take the car and go home.
Come on.
Must be a ladder along here somewhere. This is where the boats tie up.
There's one.
If I were hiding a suitcase under here, I'd put it as high and as far in as possible.
- What do you think? - I think we should stay very close together.
Look! I think I see something.
I'll go see.
- Looks as though someone has been at it. - Rats, probably.
There's some things I'd rather not know, if you don't mind.
Thousand-dollar bills- The two million!
They've come a long way. Heil Hitler.
Light a match.
Light another one, quick.
"W. George, tailor."
George... Taylor.
George Taylor, meet Larry Cravat.
Larry Cravat, George Taylor.
I won't bother trying it on.
I don't need a memory to figure this one out.
A murder, a couple of quick changes- clothes and name- and then the hideout.
With a brand-new war on, what better place than the service?
This doesn't prove anything, you know.
Then maybe you ought to read this letter now.
The one I found in the hospital, the one that told me-
Here. Read it.
Your friend, Mary- the one who couldn't see because she had her heart in her eyes.
Was that her handwriting?
- Don't lie to me, Chris! - Yes. Mary wrote that.
To me.
Wait a minute. That was six. Might be an automatic.
Now.
Don't hold onto me. That way, we're one target.
Come on.
That's something else I've gotta get used to: jumping out of my skin every time a door opens.
Try to remember. Try to remember, George.
Larry. I've got a tailor named George. I can remember that much.
- Darling, look. - Don't call me that either.
That's something else I remember too.
Even if it didn't happen to me, but to a guy named Taylor.
- That's who you are, that guy. - I'm Larry Cravat.
And I killed a man on that dock three years ago.
I don't know who he was, but I killed him, and I dropped the suitcase and ran away.
But supposing the other man killed him. Supposing you just ran away.
- The other man? - The one you thought you might have been.
Who is he?
I haven't got time to start that all over again.
- My two hours are nearly up. - Do you think you could ever have killed anybody?
I know about George Taylor. No. But I can't speak for Larry Cravat, for me.
I can. The answer is no.
- Thanks for your vote. - Just because you've got another name.
Even if you wipe out a man's memory...
doesn't it stand to reason that his brain is the same?
That his- his standards are the same?
- You didn't think much of him. - I never thought of him as a murderer.
And he could have changed for the better too.
Three years of war can change a man.
You're making a nice try, Chris, but that isn't the way I've heard it.
- They say I killed a man. - And they say you killed Conroy too.
- Did you? - No, but I can remember that. I can't remember anything else.
Don't make me try anymore, Chris. I'm too tired. Don't make me try anymore.
I'll get you a cup of coffee.
Here. Hold on to this cup.
Let's see if we can't make some sense for once.
Now, George, everything that happened to you happened...
because they thought you could lead them to Larry Cravat.
- Why? - Because they figured Cravat had the money.
Right. And when Anzelmo told you Cravat was a murderer...
he said that because he wanted to make a deal.
- For some of the money, he'd clear Cravat. - Yeah.
And he didn't even insist on seeing Cravat.
If I'm the only contact between them and two million dollars...
they certainly want to keep me alive.
Yet, twice tonight somebody tried to kill me. Why?
Because you were getting close to something more important than two million dollars.
You were getting close to whoever murdered that man on the dock three years ago.
Shh!
Chris, honey. Honey, listen.
Conroy was crazy for three years.
They staked out a man to watch him, to wait for him to be well enough to talk.
Then I got to him. They tried to kill me before I could.
When that missed, they had to kill Conroy. They couldn't take the chance.
They sacrificed the money to shut his mouth for good.
The way it turned out, they brought the poor guy to his senses long enough.
What are we going to do about it?
We're going to go trade in Larry Cravat on a murderer. Come on.
- Going so soon? - We just came in to be saved.
There's more to it than that, young lady.
- I, uh, wonder if you could do me a favor, sir. - Gladly, my boy.
This suitcase, could you call a messenger and have him deliver it to police headquarters?
- Police headquarters? - It's important.
It's the personal property of Detective Lieutenant Donald Kendall.
He's the one with his hat off.
I know Lieutenant Kendall, young lady.
In that case, my boy, I'd be very glad to take it over myself right now.
And, uh, please accept this as a donation.
Ten dollars? Thank you. Thank you very much.
Chris...
how long do you think before you can forget the guy that Mary wrote about in her letter?
Funny you should bring that up. I haven't thought of him once.
I keep remembering what it must have been that she was in love with.
Come on.
- Where are we going? - To a fortune-teller.
Why a fortune-teller?
To get our fortunes told.
Well, if it isn't Hubert.
- Can we drop you anywhere, Hubert? - We're gonna walk.
Walk? Which way?
Straight ahead.
Come in.
Well, it, uh- It looks a lot more cheerful in here.
What's happened to the Fu Manchu lighting effects?
I think the time has come to throw all the light we can on the matters concerning us.
And who is the character with the hair?
This is a Miss Smith.
- I get it. - If it's around, I'm sure you will.
- Oh, we're having repartee, are we? - We are not.
- Now that we are all here- - But we are not.
Aren't you confused, Mr. Taylor?
Not anymore. Sit down, Chris.
The reason for this informal gathering was the news on the radio tonight-
- that you are wanted for murder. - That's not news.
You might say the police have a priority on you.
It is, therefore, necessary that we conclude our business at once.
Mr. Taylor, where is Larry Cravat?
Shouldn't that be, "Mr. Cravat, where is George Taylor?"
- What do you mean? - You wanted to see Cravat.
All right. You're looking at him.
You're crazy!
Remember, I had my face pushed around at Okinawa. The docs patched me up.
- Well, Phyllis? - I don't know. It- It could be.
I don't know for sure. After all, I only met him once.
I'm Larry Cravat. You can take my word for it.
- I do. - Then he knows where it is.
Don't let him waste no more time, boss.
- He'll talk. - Well, what do you know?
Hubert said three whole sentences.
Hubert!
Open up! I know they're here, and I want in. Open up!
Hiya, kids.
- I haven't had the pleasure. - The name is Phillips, Mr. Anzelmo.
And your name is Phyllis. I've heard about you too.
She's a well-known society girl.
I called your house when I got the news, Christy. I've been all over town since looking for you.
It's a good thing I remembered your mentioning Anzelmo.
Now that you are here, Mr. Phillips, why are you here?
Because you wouldn't have a quorum without me.
And because I'm an important stockholder in two million dollars.
- Are you gonna stand for that? - Perhaps.
At any rate, before any more partners arrive...
I suggest you continue what you were saying, Mr. Cravat.
Cravat?
Bring him up to date, Chris.
Secrets.
I'll take the proposition you offered me, Anzelmo...
- with one slight change. - And that is?
I don't want a fall guy.
One of you, or one of your hired help, killed Steele on that dock three years ago.
I want the one that did it.
- Do you maintain that you, yourself, were not the one? - I know it.
Well...
In that case, I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Phyllis.
- Sorry? For what? - I did my best during all this time.
I saw to it that the finger of suspicion never touched you.
What are you driving at?
Everyone knows that you were with Cravat the night before the murder.
But where were you on the night of the murder?
- With you! I was with you! - With me?
Phyllis, you shouldn't. You're among friends.
Hubert was with me all that night.
- Was she here too, Hubert? - No, boss.
What is this? Some kind of a gag?
You're smart. You can tell a cheap frame. This is a laugh.
Then laugh this off.
That you were seen on the dock the next morning, that you were nervous and upset.
That you threw something into the harbor, something that glinted in the sun.
People will swear it was a gun, Phyllis.
Well, here's one you can swear to, you and that big tub of lard.
Baby don't get framed by your kind.
Your kind come a dime a dozen.
That accent don't score with me, and I'm not payin' your bills.
Look it up in one of your books, Anzelmo.
There's a dead bartender the cops wanna know about.
Hold it.
Get over there.
You too.
I want the money too, but not that bad.
My car's right in front of the door. Get in it.
Give me the key.
No, gentlemen, no. There's no time for that.
I doubt whether there is even time enough to get out of town.
Phyllis, darling.
The jig is up.
- My car! We forgot it. - We'll get it later.
We're practically at the Cellar. I'll open it up, and we'll have a drink.
- I could use one. - I wouldn't say no.
Be careful. Don't trip over any of the customers they forgot to clean up.
It's a long time since I've worked behind the bar.
You gotta promise not to tell the union.
I'm 12 years behind on my dues.
Sit down.
Stop me if I'm repeating myself...
but you're a very nice guy, Mr. Phillips.
- Forget it. - I guess I owe you quite a bit.
You owe me nothing Whatever I did, I did for Christy.
You've acted like an idiot from the beginning.
And the prize was walking into that setup back there.
- He couldn't help it. - I didn't want to.
You see, I figure that all of them except one wanted nothing but the money.
And that one wanted me dead even more.
'Cause if and when I get my memory back...
I'll know that he killed Steele that night.
I figured he'd make some move, some attempt to get me alone, even to get me...
out of there.
He had to get you alone, didn't he?
Away from the others so he wouldn't show his hand.
So they wouldn't know that he-
- I'm sorry you're in this, Christy. - She's not in it.
Did you know all along that George was Larry Cravat?
Not until tonight. I never met Cravat.
Steele had come up from Arizona to bring me the two million.
I'm in a good spot to slip big bills like that into circulation.
Steele didn't know me. We were to meet on the dock.
Cravat heard about it somehow. He met Steele, convinced him he was me and got the money.
Steele was alone when I got there.
I thought he double-crossed me, and I killed him.
Then I saw Cravat. I shot once and missed. I never saw him again.
Conroy saw it, and you tried to have him killed with a truck.
Same thing you tried with me tonight.
Wasn't very effective. It missed you completely.
And he wound up with his mind affected. He doesn't worry me now.
No. The little man with the glasses took care of that, didn't he?
The one you staked outside Christy's house to watch me.
Did you send him after us tonight, under the dock?
I didn't know you were under the dock.
His orders were to get you wherever and whenever.
I've thought about you a lot, Cravat.
For three years. About you and the money you stole from me.
You're gonna be a poor man now, Cravat. A dead man's a poor man.
- I got you into this. - Stop it.
Little Miss Know-The-Right-People.
I couldn't leave you alone.
Had to call in that good, kind character.
I never did anything to you, Christy.
- You're doing all right now. - Why didn't you stay out of it? I told you to. I warned you.
- The answer still goes. - I know. You're nuts about the guy.
- But it's too late now. - She's got no part of this, and you know it.
- It's too late. - But... maybe it isn't.
- I'm sorry. - You don't know why we were under the dock.
Do you want me to tell it? Or Christy. Maybe you'd rather believe her.
- Is it that important? - I thought it was.
Finding out whether the two million I hid there three years ago was still there.
Was it?
- Every brand-new thousand-dollar bill. - I thought you got away with it.
And you thought a lot of it must be gone. Not a cent. It's all there.
Two million dollars. Nobody in the world will know you've got it, except Christy.
That's the deal.
- Christy for two million dollars. - No sale.
Well, what can she do to a smart operator like you? Go to the police?
It's her word against yours. I'll be gone.
They think I did it anyway. Conroy too.
All she can do is repeat herself and pretty soon nobody's listening.
- It's no use, and I won't have it. - Two million dollars.
- Where is it?
I'll take you near it. Then Christy goes free and I'll take you to it.
This can't be a phony. I'm in no position to work one.
I couldn't have planted it. I didn't know this was going to happen.
- Where do we have to go? - Back near the dock.
Okay.
- Where do we go? - A couple of doors down.
Leave the motor running.
Okay. Okay.
- Back in the car. - But the money's inside.
- Do as you're told! - What about Christy?
- She goes too. - You won't get the money!
Yes, I will. I know where it is now.
I'll come back for it later. Get in the car, both of you.
Don't anybody move.
- What's it look like, Mac? - He's still with us.
- Hey, keep these people back in there! - Get back, folks.
- Better get an ambulance. - Right.
- Get that stuff copied as soon as possible. - Yes, sir.
Did Phillips tell you everything you wanted to know?
Yeah. With full details. It'll make better reading than Forever Amber.
And will he live, as if I care?
Well, if I could only learn how to shoot straight...
maybe I could save you taxpayers some dough.
- But I always close my eyes. - For you, Lieutenant. It's Mac.
Yeah.
Hello, Mac.
Oh, the little man with the glasses...
uh, he used to work as an attendant at the Lambert Sanatorium.
- Lambeth. - Lambeth Sanatorium, make that.
You can start from there. You got all the others. That's good.
Okay. I'll see you.
Say, you know, that was a pretty sharp piece of thinking you did...
bringing Phillips back to that mission.
You knew I'd backtrack on that suitcase, didn't you?
The spot we were in, I had to think sharp and talk fast.
Aha. You must have been a pretty good shamus, Cravat.
- Shamus? - Shamus is a private eye.
Well, at least it looks like I kept my nose clean, anyway.
Yeah. You think you'll go back to it?
No, thanks. See, three years of war can change a man.
That's what I always say.
Well, if I can be of any help to you, just let me know.
Thanks. I'd like to drop around if you don't mind.
There's still a lot of questions I want answers for.
I know the answer to one. But you haven't asked it yet.
You know, Moskowitz, have you ever wondered why a detective keeps his hat on all the time?
- Can't say I ever thought about it, Lieutenant. - I found out why tonight.
You see, if you have to shoot a man, you don't wanna be holding a hat in your hand.
Seems that the movies are right.