Right on time, Jim.
I don't know about the dialogue,
but you're certainly dressed for the part.
What are you cooking?
Baking. I can't cook. Danish pastry.
Have you found the dynamite?
Not a trace.
I better find Judge M'Guigan. Where is he?
He's up in the billiard room playing a game he calls "pool."
It's billiards with working clothes on.
Yeah. The man with him is a guy named Judge Vickerman.
Much obliged.
Not at all.
Well played. You win again.
Rack 'em up, son.
Ah, you play a sharp game of pool, judge.
A man would have to rise mighty early
to keep up with you.
Oh, fiddlesticks.
A backward child could play this-
This "pool" game of yours.
Now, 3-cushion billiards-
Ho, ho, ho, there's a gentleman's game.
I agree with you, judge.
Billiards is a gentleman's game,
but we must move along with the times.
We common people must have our little enjoyments also.
I always say, it matters not what we play
as long as we enjoy the game.
Do you have time for another?
Of course, of course. You break 'em this time.
Thank you, judge. Drink?
Thank you.
Ah, for a convention,
this is becoming quite enjoyable.
Judge M'Guigan?
Yes, man, what is it?
My name is James West. I believe you were notified.
Oh, yes.
You're the president's man.
You know Judge Vickerman, of course.
I'm honored, sir.
How do you do?
Well, now what the devil are you supposed to do for us?
Oh, uh, of course.
Uh, will- You will excuse us, judge, won't you? Uh...
Certainly.
Uh, after you, sir.
Thank you.
Well?
Sir, since you're the chairman of this convention,
the president has sent me here to protect you if necessary.
From what?
A crate of dynamite's been stolen
and traced to Denver.
Dynamite?
Enough to replace this hotel
with a large hole in the ground.
It's your turn to break, judge.
Surely, the president isn't holding his breath for you.
Well, why don't you break
while I hear what it is the president wants me to do?
Politicians.
And as chief of police of this fair city,
I have taken and will continue to take
all necessary precautions for the absolute safety
of our distinguished guests.
Son, are you getting this?
Oh, yes, sir.
Uh, how's it going, men?
Find anything under there?
Hey.
What the devil are you doing here?
Searching for fragments of the bomb.
And did you find any?
Yeah.
Well, hand it over.
I think bombs and infernal machines
are more my line of work than yours.
Look, just who the devil do they call you
when you're at home?
My name is James West,
and I'm the special agent for the president.
Oh, so you are West, huh?
Hm.
Well, what's your business here
and why wasn't I informed that you had arrived?
Well, there wasn't time.
There is always time for courtesy.
A crate of dynamite was stolen about a week ago
and traced to your city,
and since you are playing host
to all of the federal judges of the union
and the dynamite, we wanted to make sure
they didn't bang into each other.
And how does that give you call to poke your nose
into my investigation of a murder,
which, as you ought to know, is not a federal crime?
I know some people who don't think of it
as a crime at all.
Let's have it.
Or would you rather be arrested for withholding evidence?
Of course, you do have a bomb expert on your squad.
Mister, it don't take no bomb expert
to know a man's been killed here.
But it does take one to tell you how or by whom
or for that matter, even why.
Oh, and- And you are that kind of an expert, huh?
I have run into bombs from time to time,
and I always like to understand what makes them tick.
All right, you're welcome to all the live bombs you can find.
Just give me the evidence.
All right, chief. All right.
Since you've limited my jurisdiction
to, uh, live bombs...
Hey!
Bombs are like women, gentlemen.
You should never let them know you don't trust them.
Gentlemen.
A dog would not eat that.
Of course not.
It wasn't meant for you.
Insult! Always insult!
Oh, if you would only be half as sensitive
to the smell of your own cooking
as you are to imaginary insults.
I will teach you to insult the cooking of Sicily!
You don't need to teach it.
Your cooking is insult enough.
Ah, Mr. West.
Do you have the cake I ordered?
Indeed. Indeed. Right this way, sir, please.
It's right here. There.
It's a work of art. What do I owe you?
Oh.
It is not for sale.
But you- You promised-
Ah, for a man who appreciates art, a gift.
No charge. Here.
You eat that, you going to die like a dog.
Let us get away from here, please,
before we are overcome by the poisoned gases
coming from those pots
which know the taste of salt,
only when a piece falls into his stew
by accident!
Get him out of here!
I found the bomb.
A billiard ball.
He stole that idea from me.
Mm. Almost foolproof.
There's only one thing the bomber overlooked.
The wrong man may hit the ball.
Well, then maybe it was intended for the other fellow, M'Guigan.
Possibly. Why?
M'Guigan's main source of pride is the fact
that he's sent more anarchists to prison for life
than any other federal judge.
There's only one man, besides you,
who could have perfected a mechanism such as this.
Zeno Baroda. Wasn't that his name?
That was his name.
I thought he was serving a life sentence somewhere.
He was.
He was paroled a month ago for good behavior...
by Judge M'Guigan.
Well, I'd say he has a funny way of showing his appreciation.
If all Baroda wanted was revenge against one man,
he'd need about this much dynamite,
not a whole crate of it.
Well, then who's next?
Well, we could, of course,
add more whipped cream, if that's what you want,
except that it would then be more fattening.
The cake would be no better, I guarantee.
We make perfect exquisite decoration-
I want you to search every place in this hotel
where a crate of dynamite could possibly be stored.
Right. And if I find it?
I'll arrange for someone to pour cold water on your face
to revive you.
Ahh!
All right, girls, let's start from the beginning,
and give it all you've got.
Vashti,
it's been very nice up till now.
I need hardly emphasize that
anything you do must be not only in impeccably good taste,
but also provide a note of moral uplift.
Of course, judge. I understand perfectly.
Remember, anything you do here casts reflection
not only on our distinguished guests of honor,
the members of the Supreme Court,
but on American womanhood itself.
Obviously.
Mary, let's take it from where we left off.
Whom are you guarding,
Judge M'Guigan or the dancing girls?
Your Honor,
I'd like to speak to you about the attempt
that was made on your life this morning.
I don't know what there is to discuss.
Any man who accepts the responsibilities
of being a judge has to put up
with his share of raving lunatics.
Pardon me, Your Honor,
but does this look like the work of a raving lunatic?
So...
There's only one man that could have perfected
an infernal machine like this. Zeno Baroda.
Young man, I personally paroled Zeno Baroda
last month after six years
because I considered him to be completely rehabilitated.
Surely, every bomb in the country's
not going to be blamed on him now?
I hope not,
but Zeno Baroda is capable
of planting a bomb almost anywhere.
In a billiard ball, a music box, in-
I could swear that wasn't here yesterday.
Don't touch it.
It's one of the things I get paid for.
Touching the untouchable.
As chief of police, I demand to know what's going on here.
He's found a bomb.
A bomb, you say?
Very well. Ahem. It's all yours.
No, no. I insist.
It's all yours.
Ah!
Zeno Baroda could fix a clock like this.
I will not let you persecute this man.
He has paid his debt to society.
I just wanna make sure he doesn't run up any new debts.
Debts?
If you'll excuse me.
Gentlemen...
thank you.
Well, I'm sorry I can't fix this clock for ya, mister.
Uh, how old did you say that was?
About a hundred years.
Oh. Well, don't you reckon it's about time
you bought a new one?
I don't suppose you know anyone
who could fix a clock like this.
Well, yeah, I, uh... Let's see.
I know one fella who could do it, uh...
But, uh, why bother?
For 6 bits, you can purchase
one of these brand-new-type alarm clocks.
Uh, you just set it for- Set it for whatever time
you wanna wake up in the morning.
Cheaper than feeding a rooster.
What's his name?
Wh- Whose name?
The man you said who could fix the clock.
Oh, yeah.
Well, if you're bound to throw good money after bad,
Zeno Baroda.
That little tumbledown shack on the left as you leave town.
Thanks.
Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these,
the homeless tempest tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
That's very nice. Excuse me.
"Very nice"?
I consider it the most outstanding work of art
since the Tower of Babel.
Well, you're the judge.
This is what I want you to do.
What, as a cake?
Not as a cake, you square-headed ninny.
On the cake,
the pièce de résistance of the entire banquet,
sculptured with your own delicately solicitous hands.
Oh, of course, that's- Excuse me.
That's a lot of work, you know.
Oh, it must be completed by tomorrow night
for the grand finale of the convention banquet
and to remind some of my learned colleagues
that an ounce of charity
is worth a thousand pounds of law.
Who said that?
I did.
That's very nice too.
What are you doing there, you?
Have you no respect for that noble vintage?
It feels like a load of bricks in there.
The finest champagne money can buy,
and you swing it around like that, you imbecile!
Dummkopf.
Wait, wait, wait. No, no, no.
We better take a look and see whether there's any damage
done to that thing.
Dynamite.
Mr. Baroda?
I beg your pardon.
Never beg while you're still man enough to steal.
Uh, do you suppose you could fix a wreck like this?
Put it down somewhere.
I'll get to it in my own good time.
Well, how do you know? You haven't even looked at it.
Made in Strasbourg, 1781.
Only 3 others like it survived into the 19th century.
If I were a merchant, I'd offer you $500 for it
and sell it in Philadelphia for 2,000.
It's a deal.
Not interested.
I want to give it to you for a favor,
for a little job.
What sort of job?
There's a man in this town
that's been paying far too much attention to my wife.
I, uh- I want to give him a gift,
a music box.
And when he winds it up,
I want to make sure he gets a real bang out of it.
Who sent you to me?
Another clockmaker.
He said, "Why throw good money after bad?"
Perhaps you should have taken his advice.
Good day, sir.
$2,000.
And no one will ever know.
Kill for a puny reason like that
when there's a world of cruelty and government injustice,
inhumanity and legalized serfdom.
Abuse of police power and judicial corruption
crying out to be overthrown?
Right now I'd like to overthrow the man
that's stolen my wife's love.
I've always believed
that a man who has lost a wife and a nickel
has lost a nickel.
You don't believe a man owes it to himself
to defend the honor of his home?
Honor. Ha, ha, ha.
I don't believe in murder,
at least not in such a puny cause as yours.
And what cause would you consider large enough?
Why is it, I wonder,
that all police spies and provocateurs
give off the same stale odor?
Get out.
Sir.
Weren't you afraid it might explode?
Honor.
Who is it? Huh? Who wants to kill M'Guigan?
It's not me. I swear.
I'll tell you. I'll tell you.
Ha, ha, ha.
Magnificent, mademoiselle.
Ha, ha, ha. I scared you, huh?
It's nice to see that you have found some use
for your kitchen utensils,
since you seem incapable
of turning out an edible meal with them.
That woman. She has my heart.
And you-
Why, you are not even fit for her to spit upon.
Just like your lunch today.
If I catch you with your eyes upon her once more,
so help me, I will burn them out!
The only thing you are capable of burning
is your miserable food.
Oh! Ooh!
M'Guigan?
Judge?
You all right?
M'Guigan?
I'm going to kill you!
You hear me?
Oh, go away, will you?
I'm not in the mood for playing. Go back to your zoo.
Oh, Judge M'Guigan.
Well, they changed your room, huh?
Just what the devil is the meaning of this?
What was that noise?
It was nothing. Just a bomb, that's all.
That's all? That's enough.
I'm not staying in this hotel another minute.
I hope it's not my pastry.
It must be the cooking, huh?
This way, judge.
Stay in a place like this?
Why, I'd be a sitting duck.
But Your Honor, with 10 of my men
on guard at all times,
you'd hardly be safer at the city jail itself.
City jail?
That would be a fine place for a judge now, wouldn't it?
I hardly imagine you'd be the first one.
Young man, now that the dynamite has been found,
why are you still here?
Because there's been a killing,
another bomb attempt since then,
and Zeno Baroda's still at large.
Of course. You're right.
Well, this looks a lot more civilized
than a jail cell.
I didn't know you special agents lived so well.
It's nice, peaceful.
It's home, judge.
You sure no one knows I'm here?
Nobody.
Your Honor, I have taken special precautions,
and not a soul knows you're here. Not a soul.
Ahh.
Vashti.
Judge, the girls and I thought
we'd make it a little less lonely for you.
Thank you, Vashti.
Just set it down over there.
We have a wonderful lunch.
I think you'll love it. Some chicken-
Just a moment, please.
Who prepared this basket?
Signor Cefalu, the cook.
And some fruit.
And some nice strudel from Herr Astipalia.
He makes wonderful strudel.
Young lady,
how did you know we were here?
Everyone knows.
See what I mean?
You don't think I'm going to stay here, do you?
Well, why not?
Because I'd feel safer in a goldfish bowl.
I could still put you up at the city jail.
Why can't you save me from that man
who's trying to kill me?
Is that too much to ask?
It's the most reasonable request I've heard all week, judge.
I'll hide you till the banquet.
You'll be as safe and snug as the man in the moon.
Ahh. At least there's someone around here
who has a head on their shoulders.
Come, Vashti.
Just a minute.
Now, I can't let you leave with this wisp of a girl.
Why? I can't be any worse off than I am here.
Let's not forget the strudel.
Vashti.
Judge.
Gentlemen.
Now, look, I am the chief of police,
and I intend-
Chief.
Huh?
Maybe he'd be better off with her out in the open.
What do you mean by that?
If you gotta set a trap, use attractive bait.
Just the same, I'm going to continue
to take every precaution for his safety, you got that?
You've done a great job so far, chief.
Very good.
Mm-hmm.
Nice, nice. Very thorough.
Mm-hm.
Mm-hmm. Good.
Good work.
Hey.
My name is Zeno Baroda,
and I desire you to place me under arrest.
On what charge?
Place me under arrest.
Herr Asterpalier.
Astipalia. What, what, what?
One of the judges,
he told me to hand this to you personally.
Oh, thank you very much.
What do you think, I'm a guest here?
Gee.
Ah, Mr. West.
Well, I've got him locked up tight as a drum.
Who?
Zeno Baroda, the anarchist,
the man who's been planting all these bombs.
Glad to hear it. How did you catch him?
He caught me. How do you like that?
He walked right up and demanded I arrest him.
That's nice.
Ha, ha, ha. You ain't jealous, are you?
I mean, that I cracked the case instead of you?
No. No, I'm worried.
A man in jail has too good an alibi.
An alibi for what?
That's what I'd like to know.
Oh, Mr. West.
I've been looking for you everywhere.
We need you in the kitchen. There's been an accident.
What happened?
Herr Astipalia, the pastry cook,
he's been calling for you.
He's been hurt, badly burned.
I tried to help him,
but he wouldn't let me call a doctor.
I tried to help him.
I bandaged him the best I could.
What are you doing here? Go get a doctor. Hurry.
What happened? Did you see who did it?
Are you all right?
I'm going to be fine.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
We'll have a doctor here in a minute.
Don't move.
Magnificent, Herr Astipalia.
Vashti, my love,
I have great plans for us.
I lift my lamp
beside the golden door.
Vashti, when you light that dynamite,
it'll all come true.
Your dream of success,
my dream of power.
Judge, are you sure? I mean-
Vashti, you will take your place
alongside the immortals of the theater.
Lillie Langtry, Jenny Lind.
I see you starring in Carmen
at the National Theater in Washington.
President Grant sits in his box watching you sing and dance.
But first, the entertainment.
You will dance beautifully,
like Salome.
I will give you the signal, nod my head.
Come, Vashti.
How many times have I told you, no loafing on the job?
Oh, very funny. Very funny.
Ahh.
You all right?
Oh, sure, sure. My skin's always this blue.
Your Honor,
have you seen Judge M'Guigan?
Why, no. We, uh- We thought he was with you.
Hello.
Sorry I'm late.
Well, inspector, is everything in order?
I think so, Your Honor.
Why don't you sit down and enjoy yourself?
Well, thank you very much.
Good evening.
I hope you enjoyed your dinner, judge.
Very good.
Gentlemen, gentlemen.
Gentlemen.
Gentlemen. Excuse me.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Now, my friends and fellow judges
and you august members of the Supreme Court,
the entertainment portion of our program,
Vashti and her girls.
Here I thought that Baroda was tucked away safe and sound
in jail and all of us could live happily ever after.
Nah. Baroda only made those infernal machines
until he couldn't stand it any longer.
Made 'em?
For whom?
Someone to whom Baroda, for all his noble philosophy,
couldn't say no.
The one man that could put him in prison
for the rest of his life.
Judge M'Guigan?
Right.
A respected federal judge
with his eye on the Supreme Court?
Exactly.
"With his eye on the Supreme Court."
And up there, a room full of judges
infinitely more capable than he.
I know some of you good folks
still haven't quite forgiven me, have you now,
for the disgraceful way in which I worked my way
through law school as a common thespian,
a mummer,
a mountebank, if you will,
rather than like the rest of you,
by splitting rails
or having a rich father
or digging ditches
or robbing banks.
But then, what is a courtroom but a stage,
and all its learned advocates and judges merely players?
They have their entrances...
and exits.
You can see that with a shocking attitude like that,
I'd cut a mighty poor figure amidst the awesome dignity
of the Supreme Court...
...to whose learned members I shall presently
have the signal honor to present
the coveted annual Chester A. L'Ambroso Award
for their distinguished contributions
to the enlightened science of criminology.
We're losing oxygen fast.
But first, a musical tribute.
To the fair lady...
with the golden lamp.
That's my cake.
Give me a match.
Right.
Give me another one.
That's all there is.
We better do something fast
before this whole building comes down on us.
Give me another bullet.
You ate the last one.
Let's make another one.
Excuse me.
It's not that the president
has anything against your background, M'Guigan.
It's simply that he doesn't think
you carry enough weight up here.
Later.
Oh, judge-
Oh, judge. Judge, let me tell you a wonderful story.
Now, stop me if you heard it.
I heard it.
Where's M'Guigan?
He's upstairs.
Bring her to the hall.
Right.
Whoa.
No!
Where's Bulvon?
Let go of the judge.
Artie, the bottle!
Let me go.
Cut it out. Cut it out.
Stop him! Stop him!
Sorry about that, chef.
Would you believe I'm a judge then?
Stop that man that's following me.
Judge, no!
What is this? What is this?
Stop him! Grab him!
Did you have to ruin my cake?
It was either your cake or my reputation.
Come on, judge.
An ounce of charity... An ounce of charity,
a thousand pounds of law.
M'Guigan.
M'Guigan of all people.
What the devil did he think he was trying to do,
blowing up the Supreme Court?
Look, do you think he was one of those...
anarchist fellows himself?
There's not a thing wrong with him that an appointment
at the Supreme Court wouldn't have cured.
He just wanted to hasten the process.
You don't think he ever would have made it, do you?
No matter how much of the competition he killed off?
The last I heard,
the president was in his right mind.
I'm glad you caught him.
Count on me to testify against him at his trial.
I'll make it a point of seeing you're released
from jail for the occasion.
Vashti.
Who has ever done this to you,
I will seek vendetta.
Well, maybe it wasn't a total waste.