Original subtitles

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[bell]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Down at the corner here.

Who are the winners then?

Like those All right, sir.

All right, then.

Place your bets.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[bell]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> That's [music]

Dean on the flight.

Well, Dean, you're our winner again.

And try again, ladies and gentlemen.

Everybody wins. Yeah.

>> [music]

[music]

>> Hey, Walter. This getting to be a habit.

It's about time [music] you told us who

did it. You take care of your job and

I'll take care of mine. I sure will. It

don't pay to be lucky in this town.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

>> Hello, gorgeous. What's cooking?

The boss. And now it's your turn to fry.

What's the beef?

He doesn't like the way you're playing

up this crime wave. And he thinks you're

riding Rafferty too hard. Uh that's the

trouble with Pete Rafferty. He gets

fat-headed when nobody's riding him.

I wish Michael Shayne hadn't moved to

San Francisco.

Yes, Mr. Bronson.

Uh he just came in.

Yes, sir.

Go on in, Timothy Rourke, and get your

spanking. We'll see who spanks who.

All right, let's have it fast. I got a

story to write. I have just had a call

from Detective Chief Rafferty. That's my

story. You're a confident reporter, Tim,

when you stick to reporting, but I don't

like this sensational stuff you've been

writing. Are you afraid of the truth?

Not at all. But we have a regular staff

to write the editorials. I've had

complaints from the Chamber of Commerce,

the Better Business Bureau, and other

civic organizations. The wire services

are picking up your stuff and featuring

it throughout the country. You're giving

the city a bad name, frightening people

away. We mustn't hurt business.

No, it's better let the gambling

syndicate take over and move in their

hoodlums. We've always had more or less

gambling. Now it's more.

Look, there's big money back of Brennan,

and they swing a lot of political

weight.

The public has got to be jarred awake

and made to realize what it's up

against.

>> Rourke.

Bear in mind that I am the managing

editor, and I will decide upon the

policy of this paper.

All right, have it your own way.

Now, let me give you a tip. About what?

Malicious in the third race at Jamaica.

And if you're going to fire me, I want

two weeks' notice.

How was it? Not so hot.

I've got a hunch I won't be around here

very long.

Never be a sweetheart. Will you get this

wire off to Michael Shayne for me?

Of course.

And look,

save the wire ads for me.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Miss Higgins, come in here a minute.

That's not the story I okayed. How did

it get in the paper? Well, I don't know,

sir.

Rourke faked the story from my okay and

then sneaked this in somehow. The

edition got on the street before I

caught it.

Make out a closing check for Rourke, and

I'll take it to him. I don't even want

him coming in here after it. Yes, sir.

Uh will that be all?

Clean out his desk and bring everything

in here to me. Yes, sir.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Persian.

Taboo.

Frigid blonde.

>> [music]

>> Lipstick.

But she wasn't blind.

Come in. Why should you be the

exception?

>> [music]

[music]

>> Tim, you've been hurt. Did Walter do

that to you?

What makes you think Bronson did this?

He was furious about that story you

slipped past him this afternoon. The

first edition was on the street before

he caught it.

So to help matters along, you come up

here.

Walter Bronson found his wife in my

apartment, he'd blow his top. He doesn't

know where you live. He can find out

easy enough at the office.

How did this happen?

A guy named Brennan didn't like my

story. The head of the gambling

syndicate?

So he sent a couple of his hoodlums

along to deliver his criticism.

Did they tear up the apartment?

No.

I think this was done by a cute blonde

looking for some affidavits.

You better run along.

Tim,

why don't you be nice to me?

You seem to have overlooked one little

minor detail.

You have a husband.

I don't like Walter Bronson. I think

he's a stuffed shirt.

But I'm not fooling around with his

wife.

Maybe you'll change your mind.

After what you've been through, you need

a nurse.

They say the patient often falls in love

with the nurse.

Hey, what have you got in here, Amanda?

Are you gunning for anybody in

particular? Don't be absurd. That's

Walter's pistol.

What's it doing in your purse?

Well, if you must know, I was afraid he

might try to kill you.

He frightened me with his raving. I've

never seen him so angry before.

I knew where he kept his gun, so I

slipped it in my purse.

Make yourself comfortable.

I'll get some water.

.32 automatic.

There've been three murders committed

with a .32 automatic.

That isn't the only .32 automatic in the

world.

No, and you're not the only blonde in

the world either. I wish I were to you.

Relax. I'll bathe your face. Never mind.

I'm all right. Look, why don't you give

up this one-man crusade? It can't get

you anything but trouble.

You know, Walter can make things tough

for you.

Don't worry about me. I'll get along.

Does Walter know you've been dropping

all that money in those gambling joints?

What's that got to do with what I'm

talking about?

Plenty.

Well,

telegram for Mr. Shane. Oh, I beg your

pardon. I thought you were Mr. Shane.

Very funny. Your sense of humor

shouldn't happen to a comedian. You two

have habits in common. Whenever I see a

peanut, I think of Mike Shane.

That's from Tim.

Crime wave rampant. Why does Tim love to

use two bit words? Three murders and

more expected. Jump on your white horse

and come to the rescue. Urgent. Tim.

Take a wire, Phil.

Very happy where I am. Tired of picking

bullets out of my teeth. Want no part of

any crime wave. Yes, sir. And should I

put fresh flowers on your desk every

morning? You better get to work, Miss

Hamilton, and stop insulting your boss.

Yes, sir.

Hey, Phil.

Crusading reporter near death.

Timothy Rourke desperately wounded.

Oh, Mike, how terrible. Shot by an

unknown assassin. Has not yet regained

consciousness.

Get some plane reservations.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Just a minute. Who is this and who is

there?

Who says so? Chief Detective. Speak

rapidly. Who are you? Mike Shane. And

Tim Rourke's my best friend. I'm going

in to see him. Come on, Angel.

Are you close relatives? Well, I'm his

best friend. How's he doing? We're not

supposed to discuss our cases, but he

has a fighting chance.

Mike, who do you suppose would want to

put Tim out of the way?

I got a pretty good idea.

We're going to find out for sure.

Um,

let me know when he regains

consciousness. Where do you You can

reach me through Will Gentry, Chief of

Police. Your name? Michael Shane. When

he wakes up, just tell him I've come.

He'll understand.

Here comes what is known as a local

anesthetic.

The police are handling this case and we

haven't asked for any outside help. I

don't feel like fighting with you,

Rafferty. All I want is the person

responsible for that.

>> So does everyone. What do you suppose

the Detective Bureau's for? I've often

wondered.

Please, you must be quiet.

>> Yeah, okay. Okay.

Now listen, Shane. Keep out from under

my feet. And when I have a man in

protective custody, nobody crashes in.

You should be grateful that Mike is here

to solve another case for you.

I like you. Drop by the Courier office

and see what gossip you can pick up.

Minerva Higgins knows everything that

goes on and she's always had a soft spot

in her heart for Tim. Where are you

going? I'm going to drop by Tim's

apartment. You meet me there.

Mr. Bronson isn't in.

>> That's good. Mike Shane asked me to see

you. Oh, is Mike back in town? He came

as soon as he heard about Tim. Poor

Timothy. I feel terrible about that.

He was playing with dynamite and I

warned him he'd get himself into

trouble.

Mr. Bronson gave him definite orders

that day to stop his sensational

crusade.

Did he? No.

He sneaked in a final blast at the

gambling syndicate. He knew it would be

his last story and he went all out,

naming names and everything.

Um,

this is the story, the start of the

explosion.

Could I keep this and show it to Mike?

Certainly.

Um, there's something I wouldn't tell

anyone else. Yes?

Mrs. Bronson is carrying a torch for

Timothy.

Are you sure? Of course I'm sure.

I don't like to gossip, but a woman is a

fool who looks at a man the way she

looks at Timothy and expects another

woman not to notice it. She drapes

herself all over his desk and we try not

to pay any attention uh except to be

courteous.

But she is a beautiful blonde, you know.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Looking for someone?

Yeah, maybe it's you. Maybe you're a

friend of this guy, Rourke. Maybe. Maybe

you came to find some affidavits he had

hid out.

Could be.

Some people are looking for those

affidavits. Hand them over.

>> [music]

>> Who am I dealing with? Never mind about

that.

>> [music]

[music]

>> Clean him We should have given them more

time.

>> [music]

>> Maybe he'll feel talkative when he wakes

up. What's going on here?

>> [music]

>> Help!

Help, police!

Help, police!

Hey, Monk, we better scram.

>> [music]

[music]

>> Well, how you look natural.

Mike Shane, can't I leave you for an

hour without you getting yourself beaten

up?

Seems like old times. I guess I was

getting soft. Are you hurt?

Huh? No, just my vanity.

Couple of pals were looking for some

affidavits they thought Tim had.

Say, listen, Mike Shane. If you get

yourself a cauliflower ear, I'm going to

leave you flat.

I stopped in to see Gentry on the way

over. He said Tim took a terrific

beating. They found the fingerprints of

two women here in the apartment. One of

them had ransacked the place and the

other one had a drink with Tim. Minerva

says Mrs. Bronson was carrying a torch

for Tim.

Something to think about.

Tim had [music] a row with Bronson and

this is the story that caused the

blowup.

>> [music]

>> Aw, Tim should have known they'd start

gunning for him when he named names and

said he had affidavits.

That guy Brenner wouldn't be too happy

about that.

What's going on here?

Who are you?

I'm Mr. Henty, superintendent of this

apartment building. Fine. You're just

the man I want to see. But who are you?

Detective.

See any strange women around here the

night Rourke was shot? I saw one. And

what a blonde. She came in the side

entrance.

Would you recognize her again?

Why, I only saw her back. But uh I think

I'd recognize her.

Why do women bother to make up their

faces?

Oh, no.

Not you again. Hello, Pete. Why the call

for the riot squad? I had a little

misunderstanding with a couple of

gentlemen. Didn't amount to anything.

Come on, Shane. Spill it. Who were the

guys and what was the argument? And if

you're withholding any evidence on me,

I'm going to make you sweat. You said

you didn't want any outside help. Get

your own evidence.

Besides, Rourke sent for me to make a

confidential investigation. Someday

you're going to go too far, Shane, and

you're going to stick out your neck and

I'm going to jump on it with both feet.

He doesn't seem to like you. How about

you think we're bitter enemies, don't

you?

Aren't you? Yeah.

No, we kid around like that all the

time. Doesn't mean a thing. Now look,

you're going to be very valuable to me

and I'm going to want to talk to you

later on. I'll see you later.

Someone really took this place apart.

I think I'll drop in and have a cup of

tea with that guy, Brenner. Mike, can't

you be satisfied with one beating a day?

You stay here till I get back and don't

open the door to anyone.

Angel, can you do something for me? Yes,

Mike. What? Uh clean the place up a

little, will you? Yes.

Hey, bud. What's going on here?

I want to see Brenner. Brenner?

You got an appointment? Do you need an

appointment?

Certainly. Certainly. Go on. Beat it.

Scram. Get going. Go ahead. get out of

here. Ooh!

Brenner? I didn't hear you knock. I did

not.

Let's get down to cases.

You're Brenner and I'm Shane.

I want the blonde who blasted Tim

Rourke. And if not,

I'll bust a lot of things wide open.

I don't know who it was.

Wish I did.

Whoever it was put the heat on me

plenty.

I can't even open for business until

things quiet down.

I had no reason to have Rourke grabbed,

dad.

I just made a deal with him that

afternoon in this office. You're lying.

Tim never sold out in his life.

I read the story.

Guy's a heavy winner at your club and a

blonde knocks him off.

I want that blonde.

I don't know who she is.

I can't know about every blonde who

makes a midnight pickup. If Tim could

dig up that stuff, you ought to know

what goes on in your club. I'm laying it

on the line, Brenner. I want that

blonde. Anyone who stands in my way is

going to get hurt.

Oh.

The affidavit collectors.

Of course, they're not working for you.

Or would you fool me and tell me the

truth?

Frisk him. Back your monkeys off me.

All right, boys. Back up.

How come Bugsy let him in?

Bugsy is now shut eye. He's a sucker for

a left.

I suppose your understanding with Rourke

was to have these two gorillas beat him

up.

All right, they'll pay for that.

And if you had him blasted, you'll burn.

Don't stick your nose outside this door

unless you want to get it shot off.

Hey, he can be plenty tough. Yeah, we've

taken care of tough guys before.

Thanks, bud. You're welcome.

Who's there? Open the door. It is Mike.

Hi, beautiful. Hey, wait a minute.

What? No black eye?

That was day off for the strong-arm

boys. They only work 5 days a week now,

you know, union regulations.

Anything happen while I was gone? Well,

yes and no. What do you mean yes and no?

No one tried to beat me up, but I was

down in the lobby and I noticed a letter

in Tim's box.

Mr. Handy wasn't around, so I swiped it.

Postmark the afternoon of the day Tim

was shot. Smell it.

Mmm, perfume. Wonder if she was a

blonde.

Look here, young man. I'm responsible

for things around here and I don't like

the way you're making free with Mr.

Rourke's apartment. Well, investigation

takes time. But you can't take the place

over. And besides, I'm quite sure that

there was a letter for Mr. Rourke down

in the lobby and it's missing. Missing?

Yes. That's fine.

What kind of a place is this? Don't you

realize that letter may have been of

vital importance? It might have been the

very clue that would have solved the

entire crime and you let some crook

sneak in and steal it. Well, I don't

know what's liable to happen to you. You

might even be charged with criminal

negligence. Well, I can't be every

place. It's too much for one man and I

can't be down in the lobby all the time.

All right.

I'm going to overlook it for the time

being.

We'll see what develops.

Thank you very much. All right.

I like to give everyone a break.

You know, there may be some information

in this letter that could give us a

lead. If Tim could talk, I know he'd

give me permission to open it. Of course

he would. If there's nothing in it that

has anything to do with the case, you

can forget you saw it. Yeah.

It has no signature.

You're interested in buying some

information for your paper called

Capital 8024.

Information is what we're interested in.

>> [screaming]

>> Office?

Capital 8024.

This may be the break we've been waiting

for.

Capital 8024 doesn't answer.

I got the information.

Hello, information? Police business.

Give me the name and address of Capital

8024.

Yeah.

Thanks.

Madge Rankin, 614 Hillside Drive.

Think I'll pay her a little visit. I

don't mind going along. Yeah. Well,

frankly, Angela, I think I get along

better by myself.

>> That's what I'm afraid of. Oh, Angela,

this is strictly business, believe me.

Oh, I believe you.

No use wearing yourself out on that

doorbell.

Madge isn't home.

She had a noisy party Tuesday night. I

haven't seen her since.

That's funny. I had a date with her.

Maybe she forgot.

I don't think so. She told me she'd be

here.

You can wait at my place if you like.

Oh, thanks. That's very nice of you, but

I'll I'll wait outside.

Okay.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Come in.

Well,

you changed your mind but fast. Your

friend Madge has been murdered.

Madge? Murdered?

Look, I'm Mike Shane, a private

investigator. The cops are going to be

boiling in here any minute. You could be

a big help to me. Why should I? Why not?

It doesn't cost you anything and you

might help me solve a murder.

I wonder why Shane asked information for

this address.

If Handy gave me a bad tip, I'll shake

his teeth out.

Holy smoke.

Hey, we've run into a murder. Now, touch

anything till I get the boys over here.

I'll phone from next door. Tommy, you

watch the front and you go around the

back, huh? Yeah.

Police business, I'd like to use your

phone. Sorry, we don't

>> have one. Oh, thank you.

Oh, Mike Shayne. I might have known it.

Mike, tell him to go away. We don't want

any. Don't talk like that, honey. He's a

big shot detective. Now, don't give me

that. What do you know about this murder

next door?

Murder? What murder? Do you know who

lives next door? Well, of course, Madge

Rankin. We're good friends.

Huh.

Take her into the with the body for

identification.

Well, tell me what's happened. As if you

don't know. Go on along with him. Must

I, Mike?

Sure, that's Pete Rafferty. You have to

mind him. All right, lady.

All right, Shayne, start talking.

What do we talk about?

Business, or shall we make it personal?

>> That's not funny. We'll talk about that

murder next door. Well, I just got in

town this afternoon. Do you think I

murdered her by radar? Now, you know

something. You asked information for

that address.

Oh, sure. Uh Helen doesn't have a phone,

so she gave me the number next door.

Nobody answered when I called and I'd

forgotten the address.

>> Oh, it was just a coincidence. You just

happened to pop up next door to a

corpse. You know, Pete, it's the

funniest thing. Whenever anybody has a

corpse they don't know what to do with,

they always dump it in my lap.

>> Oh.

Call over the car radio for homicide

detail. Right.

Well, was it Madge Rankin?

Yes, it was Madge.

I never saw a dead person before. Give

me the creeps. Take it easy. Poor Madge,

lying there dead all that time and

I thought she was out having a good

time. Well, I'll talk to you again. Just

stay put so I can find you.

Uh Shayne, where's that letter you took

out of O'Rourke's mailbox? Well, Peter,

how can you say such things? Andy said

you stole a letter just before you made

that call. Did anybody see me steal a

letter? Well, any evidence is missing

and you're around, I know who's got it.

That is merely supposition on the part

of the witness and has no weight as

evidence.

What do you want? Oh, I was looking for

a friend. Man or woman? A man.

Maybe he's in there. Come on.

Chief, here's the dame who was snooping

around next door.

How does she know where you are? You

always tell her before you go to visit

another girlfriend? You know how women

are. Follow you around, spy on you. Mike

Shayne.

>> Sometimes they talk too much. Oh, shut

up. What were you going to say? Who, me?

Oh, I had nothing to say.

When Mike and I promised to look you up,

we had no idea we would interrupt a

police convention. There was a murder

next door. How awful. Oh, don't give me

any more of that runaround. I want

whatever evidence you have, or I'll hold

you on suspicion of obstructing justice.

And maybe a federal rap for intercepting

mail. Look, you had three murders and

Tim was almost killed before I came.

What did you do about it? You wouldn't

know a piece of evidence if it walked up

and introduced itself. All right. All

right, come on down to headquarters.

Perhaps I can persuade you to sing a

different tune.

Mike.

>> No, it's all right, honey. Take it easy.

Can't hold me long on suspicion and

you'll enjoy hearing him apologize.

>> Me apologize? Why, you Now, be be

careful, careful, ladies. No naughty

words. Come on.

Have the boys stick around while I get

back. I'm taking this bird down to

headquarters for an audition. Okay,

Chief.

All right, boys, come on.

Did Mike Shayne get all the information

he wanted?

If there's anything else he wants, he

knows the address.

Say, listen, sister. If you have any

ideas about Mr. Shayne, you can forget

them right now. Who are you? His mother?

Mother? Don't you mother me, or I'll

rock you to sleep.

Can't talk to me like that. I'll have

you know I'm a lady. Really?

More cops, I suppose. I'll be coming

cops out of my hair for a week.

Oh, hello, Dilly. I was driving by and

saw the police cars outside. What

happened?

Madge was murdered. What happened when?

Well, it

Police, did you know her? Uh yes, I knew

her in a casual sort of way. Do you know

anyone who might have had a reason to

knock her off? Well, of course not. I

told you I didn't know her very well.

>> What's your name? Dillingham Smith, but

I tell you I

>> Address?

El Montalvo Apartments. Are you married?

Uh yes, but my wife's out of town. Where

is she?

Well, I don't know. We had a little

misunderstanding.

You can't pry into my private affairs.

Well, if you'd rather talk down at

police headquarters, it's okay with me.

All right.

I know nothing about the murder. But go

ahead, have fun.

All right, come on.

Boys, might as well go on to bed. I

don't feel talkative tonight.

Finish the routine investigation of the

murder? Why don't you get wise, Shayne?

The police department is much bigger

than you are.

Was the victim shot through the heart

with a .32 automatic from close up? I

thought you didn't know anything about

the murder. Had to be that way. Why?

You call yourself a detective. You don't

even see that the pattern for all these

murders was the same. Tim was the only

one who expected it and that saved his

life.

>> Ballistics proved that no two murders

were committed with the same gun.

I suppose you think I couldn't be an

answer to that.

>> Never mind what I think. Just turn over

whatever evidence you have to the proper

authorities, or I'll sweat it out of

you.

No dice, Pete. I'm going to conduct this

investigation in my own way. All right,

if you want to make it tougher on

yourself, go ahead.

There's uh nothing like a good old

habeas corpus to spring a guy out of

jail.

I don't know why I even bothered to get

you out. Oh, Angela, look. I told you I

was just putting on an act to fool

Rafferty. You said that before.

Did I?

All right, Dilly Smith must really be in

the chips. It costs dough to live in a

place like this.

I can't put my finger on anything

definite, but there's something about

that man that didn't seem to ring quite

true. Yeah, I know what you mean. Let's

go talk to the doorman.

Morning. Oh, good morning, sir. Special

investigator. Oh, you got the wrong man,

sir. I swear you have. I never slipped

those crooked dice in the game. No, the

FBI is handling that investigation, I

think. I'm in the market to buy some

information. Oh, you come to the right

market, sir. You could call it a black

market.

Selling information is what I is most

fond of. What can you tell me about

Dillingham Smith? Uh

he and his wife moved in a short time

back, but I hear they just oohs and

money. Is Mrs. Smith a brunette? No,

sir. You never see a blonde like that,

lady. Why, she shine in the dark.

Anything else?

Uh she sent a trunk to the railroad 2 3

days ago and I seen her around no more.

Mike, there he is.

Call your captain? No, thanks. I'll

walk.

I'm going to tell him Caldwell's entry

and ask you to bring a fingerprint man

over. See if he can find a print to

match anything found in Tim's apartment.

Hello, Will.

This is Phyllis.

Mike wants you to do him a big favor.

Uh no, he's not in jail again. Not yet.

He needs a check on some fingerprints

without going through regular police

channels.

I'll meet you here at the El Montalvo

Apartments.

Oh, hi. of help

I'm terribly sorry. Can't you walk

without tripping over your feet?

I'm really awfully sorry. It's very

clumsy of me.

Does that thing in your stick of

peppermint candy you're feeling in your

back? Don't tell me let me guess. Honey

man, huh?

I've got a gag that'll kill you.

I see what you mean.

You get in the front seat, pal. This is

your party.

Hello. Now that we're all nice and cozy,

how's about letting me in on what this

is all about? Don't be inquisitive. Stay

happy as long as you can.

>> [laughter]

>> Things are tight. He's always handing me

a laugh.

Very funny. That's what I like. Murder

with a smile.

Okay, chum. Let's get down to business.

Tim Rourke popped off about some

affidavits. Maybe they don't mean

nothing to Hank Brenner, but he wants to

see them.

Sorry. Fresh out of affidavits. I think

the only thing you'll be out of. play

ball. If not, we was to use our own

judgment.

I don't suppose it would do any good to

tell you I don't know anything about the

affidavits you're talking about. That's

right. It's the affidavits or else.

Look, I can't deliver something I

haven't got. It's not going to do any

good to bump me off. Who said anything

about bumping you off? We'll only take

you down to see Brenner. He wants to

talk to you.

Steve, you start the engine.

It looks like we'll have to thumb our

way back to town. That's right.

Sorry, boys. All filled up.

Not here, you fool.

Hello, Will. Hello, Mike. Looks like

you're getting close to something. Where

have you been? Couple of Brenner's

friends picked me up. We couldn't get

along, so I walked home. What do you

mean I'm getting close to something?

Well, the fingerprints of the woman who

claims to be Mrs. Dillingham Smith are

the same as the fingerprints of the

woman who ransacked Tim's apartment.

Huh.

Now tell me, why should Dilly Smith be

writing letters to Walter Bronson,

managing editor of the Courier? I don't

know. It's got me stumped. It's got me

going around in circles. There's too

many blondes in this case. I'm having

blonde nightmares. Hope I never see

another blonde as long as I live. May I

have that in writing?

With options.

Say, Gentry, you will be sure Tim's well

guarded, won't you? Brenner and the

gambling syndicate are starting to

concern about those affidavits he popped

off about. They might try to get to him.

Don't worry. I'll see that they don't.

Those boys are plenty tough, I know. Now

let me see.

We've got a line on the woman who

searched Tim's apartment. Did that

happen before or after he was shot?

Well, I don't know. There's no way of

telling.

She ties in with Dilly Smith. Dilly

Smith writes a letter to Bronson. That

ought to add up to something. And don't

forget Mrs. Bronson is a blonde. So was

Marge Rankin, the woman who was murdered

to keep her from talking. Dilly ties in

there, too. Dilly gets around. Plenty.

I'm putting a tail on him, Will. I can't

be everywhere at once, and I can't work

with Pete Rafferty. I wish you two boys

would try to get along and stop needling

each other. What would I do for

entertainment?

Hello, Minerva.

How's my favorite heartthrob? Don't give

me that line, Mike Shayne. I'm no

whistle stop.

Um have you seen Timothy? Yeah. He's

still unconscious. They say he has a

chance.

Is Bronson in?

No, he hasn't come in yet this morning.

Look, Minerva. I'm going to ask you to

do a big favor for me. I want you to

listen in on his telephone conversations

for a day or so. That's out of the

question. I never did anything like that

in my life. You want to find out who it

was shot Tim, don't you? Of course. But

surely you don't think I'm not accusing

anyone, but I'm just not overlooking any

angles.

Good morning, Mr. Bronson. Morning.

Uh Mr. Bronson Don't bother me. I'm

busy.

I said I'm busy. So am I.

Why did you object to Rourke's following

through on his exposé of the gambling

situation? I fail to see how the

editorial policy of this paper is any of

your business. The person who shot

Rourke didn't like that stuff, either.

Are you intimating I'm not intimating

nothing. I'm stating facts.

Did you

get to Rourke's apartment before or

after he was shot? I did not go to

Rourke's apartment at all.

You started to there. I changed my mind.

I decided to see him the following

morning.

Did you find any affidavits among the

papers in his desk? I've explained all

this to your police department, and

Rafferty has all the papers from

Rourke's desk. Now get out before I have

you thrown out.

This letter was among the household

bills, and I opened it.

We'll talk about that later.

Looks like you had a little accident. I

told you to get out of here.

Must I have you thrown out?

Don't you know excitement's bad for your

blood pressure?

Who was that? I don't know.

Who's the blonde? Mrs. Bronson. Did you

enjoy your visit? It was worthwhile.

Don't forget about the phone calls,

Minerva. I have a hunch something's

going to pop before long.

Being a lady, I can't tell you just

exactly what is going to pop at this

moment. Keep your chin up. Remember this

is for Tim. Play along with me.

Okay, Mike.

You wanted to see me? What do you mean

letting people walk in and out of my

private office? This isn't Grand Central

Station. He followed you in, and there

was nothing I could do about it. Would

it be expecting too much to ask you who

he is? Michael Shayne, private

detective.

A private detective?

I understand Timothy Rourke sent for you

just before he was shot.

Well, have you all? Yes, you may go.

So that's why he was snooping around

here, trying to worry me.

These private detectives are all a bunch

of phonies.

Yes, Mr. Bronson. Get me Crestview

6-4728.

Yes, sir.

Hello. Brenner talking. Just a moment,

please. Mr. Bronson calling.

Hello. Hello, Brenner. It's Bronson

talking. Michael Shayne, a private

detective, was trying to blackmail me

for 25,000.

Yeah.

Play along with him.

I know how to handle those babies.

All right. All right, I'll do as you

say.

You've gotten me into a fine mess. I

can't afford a scandal.

Miss Higgins, run an ad in the personal

column of today's paper. Just the two

words, yes, cold.

Yes, cold. Yes, sir.

Hello. Walter Bronson speaking. If

you're interested in buying a .32 Colt

automatic, serial number 421893,

before the police run a ballistic test,

listen carefully. I won't repeat and

don't bother to have the call traced.

I'm calling from a public phone booth.

>> [music]

>> Well, what do you want? Back for round

two? I came to apologize for last night.

Skip it. Come on in and sit down. I can

only stay a minute.

>> [music]

>> You have a cup of coffee?

>> [music]

>> No, thanks.

You know, Mike Shayne,

he must be quite a guy.

>> Oh, he is. And in my opinion, he's the

best detective in the world.

Well, he's not a nice playmate if you

have a guilty conscience. You better not

try any two-timing. Don't worry, I

won't.

By the way, I'm not familiar with this

town. Could you recommend a good beauty

shop? Well, I always go to Madame Renee.

I'll give you her card.

>> [music]

>> I've always been satisfied with her

work. Thanks a [music] million.

Have they any line on who might have

killed Madge? Not that I know of. They

can't seem to find a motive for the

murder.

Maybe she stepped out with some other

woman's husband. Those things happen.

That man, Dilly Smith,

>> [music]

>> said he had trouble with his wife.

Do you suppose I don't think so. Dilly

wasn't interested in Madge.

I saw Bronson lay. Did you get anything?

I don't like doing this sort of thing.

It's like peeking through a keyhole. Ah,

so Bronson thinks someone I know was

trying to blackmail him.

Well, for a while, Michael Shayne, I had

my doubts about you, too. Oh, everyone

has their doubts about me now and then,

even Phyllis.

Dilly Smith has a .32 Colt automatic to

sell.

Get me Chief of Police Will Gentry on

the phone, will you?

Chief of Police Gentry, please. Michael

Shayne calling.

Hello.

Just a moment.

Hello, Will?

We can start to roll. Pick up Dilly

Smith and turn him over to Pete

Rafferty's department. Have him check

the serial number and run a ballistics

test on the gun they'll find on him.

Check it against the slug they took out

of Tim.

Okay, Mike, but how about breaking down

and telling me what this is all about?

Uh, it's just as well you don't know too

much at the moment. Give me Pete

Rafferty, will you?

Okay.

Switch this call over to Rafferty.

Shayne burns me up more than anyone I

know.

I'd give a thousand dollars if I could

get him in a spot he couldn't wiggle out

of.

Hello, Rafferty speaking.

Hello, Rafferty. I got a hot tip for

you.

That private eye, Mike Shayne, is on his

way to the 300 block on La Ronsa. He's

up to no good. If you're smart, you'll

put

Who's speaking?

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

Come on.

I would certainly never make a good

detective. I'm too sane. Well, you don't

have to be crazy, but it helps a lot.

Thanks a lot, Minerva. You did your good

deed for today. These directions are

very clear.

>> [music]

[music]

>> Hope he didn't beat us here.

>> [music]

>> There he is.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. He's

slowing [music] up.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> All right. Tail him.

>> [music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

[music]

>> Hold it, you.

>> [music]

>> All right, put him in the car.

>> [music]

>> Nice work, Pete. Lucky for me you

happened along.

>> Hey, what's going on? I don't get all

this. You [music] saw him, didn't you?

Sure, I saw him, but I still don't get

it. I was driving peacefully along and

he deliberately ran me into the curb.

If you were so peaceful, what were you

doing with those two mugs in the back of

your car? Yeah, how about that? Well,

Shayne was trying to blackmail me. I

I had them along [music] for protection.

Oh, well, that's different.

Well, now we're getting somewhere.

Shayne, it looks like you've finally

stuck your neck out.

Looks like we better talk this over down

at headquarters. And maybe you think we

won't?

You fellows drive straight to

headquarters. And I'll tell you.

>> [music]

>> Shayne, can't we talk this over

privately? I'll get you the money. We'll

talk for the record. You and your pals

are in this thing up to [music] your

neck.

You heard what Rafferty said. Let's get

going.

>> [music]

[music]

>> Sit down.

All right, Shayne, let's have it. Start

talking.

Let's talk for the record.

All right, any way you like. We always

try to be obliging.

Uh, get a stenographer.

I understand some of your men picked up

a fellow named Dilly Smith. They did. I

mean, what if they did?

Well, he had a gun on him. Might be

interesting to know the results of the

test they ran on it.

Ballistics.

They They found the gun on a guy named

Dilly Smith.

Give me a report on that test.

I don't know how you know so much about

what goes on in my department.

Yeah? Go ahead.

Yeah?

Yeah.

I don't know how you guessed it, Shayne,

but Wark was shot with that gun.

I always jump to ahead of you, Pete. You

ought to know that by this time.

Have a peanut, Will.

What have you got to say about this,

Bronson? About what? About Wark being

shot with a gun registered in your name.

Why,

I'll bet you tried to double-cross your

accomplice, Dilly Smith.

And he phoned in a tip about you.

Somebody phoned in a tip? Why do you

suppose I was on your tail?

Well, I thought it was because you liked

me and didn't want to see me get hurt.

Here you go. Pete, would you send

somebody out for some more peanuts?

Yeah.

If you'd like it soaked in poison.

You're in a tough spot.

You better tell the truth and not try to

cover up for anybody.

You knew that gun was red hot. Now, tell

us how it came to be in your possession.

Okay, I'll tell you the truth.

I found that gun outside the apartment

where the reporter was shot Tuesday

night.

I saw you drop it, Mr. Bronson, when you

came out the side entrance with that

blonde dame and got in your car. That's

an outrageous lie. Shut up, Bronson.

Go ahead.

Well,

I picked up the gun and took the license

number of the car.

I didn't know what it was all about

until I read in the papers the next day

that the reporter had been shot. So, you

decided to keep the gun and blackmail

Mr. Bronson, huh? That's right. Well, I

know I can do a stretch for that, but

it's better than being mixed up in a

murder rap.

And, uh,

how does Mr. Shayne figure in all this?

Him?

I've never seen him before.

The man's obviously trying to protect

Shayne for some reason. I was not near

Wark's apartment.

You started for there

and in no very friendly frame of mind.

I checked the time you left the office.

You didn't get home until quite late.

Must I account for every minute of my

time? Might not be a bad idea,

especially in view of the fact that Mrs.

Bronson showed such a friendly interest

in Tim. I will not submit to having my

wife insulted in this manner, and I'll

hold you responsible if you allow it to

proceed.

Mrs. Bronson is a blonde. And a very

attractive blonde was seen going in the

side entrance to Tim's apartment. Does

that prove anything? Not necessarily.

Why don't you ask Mrs. Bronson to prove

that her fingerprints don't match those

of the woman who had a drink with Tim

the night he was shot?

She's my wife.

I wanted to protect her. You mean you

found your wife in Rourke's apartment?

Yes.

I was very angry with Rourke over the

story he sneaked into the paper without

my okay.

There was no one in the lobby when I

arrived.

I knew the number of the apartment, so I

went right up.

>> [music]

>> Well, good heavens, what are you doing

here? What's happened? I didn't do it,

Walter. I swear I didn't do it. Why are

you here? I liked him. I wanted to

persuade him to give up that foolish

crusade and keep his job with you.

Who shot him?

I don't know. I started into the kitchen

and was struck a blow on the head that

knocked me unconscious.

And then I found him like this.

We've got to get out of here.

>> [music]

>> It was a horrible situation, and I

couldn't think clearly.

I didn't know whether Rourke was alive

or dead.

My only thought was to get her out of

there without being seen.

I didn't dare risk taking her through

the lobby, so

we slipped out the side entrance. I

didn't know that she'd taken my pistol

with her until we returned home.

Then she discovered that it had

disappeared from her purse. Did you

believe her story?

Why, certainly. You mean you wanted to

believe it. You were afraid she was the

blonde that committed those other

murders. That isn't true. I'm interested

in the gambling syndicate, but I

wouldn't countenance murder.

What about your plan to have me bumped

off? That was Brenner's idea.

Well, you see, Pete, we opened up the

laundry bag and found a lot of dirty

linen.

And what about that blonde wife of

yours? Oh, what about her? She's the

woman who searched Tim's apartment.

>> Well, that's news to me. Maybe she was

two-timing me, and he had some letters

she wanted back. Maybe that's why you

were hanging around the apartment the

night she said you saw Bronson drop the

>> Look, I don't know what she's been

doing. She walked out on me 4 days ago.

If you don't believe me, check with my

apartment. I have.

Hello, Angel. Any luck?

Well,

I guess we've got this case in the bag.

I'll have them pick up Mrs. Bronson. She

was the last one to see Rourke alive.

And she had the pistol with her. Arrest

these two men.

Bronson was an accomplice or an

accessory after the fact. Smith was a

material witness and a confessed

blackmailer.

Well, the newspaper boys have been

clamoring for a story. I'll give them a

story so hot it'll make their hair curl.

>> [laughter]

>> Uh you know, Pete, if I were you, I

don't believe I'd break that story just

yet. Huh? Why not?

Hey, are you trying to fix it so you get

a payoff out of this? Pete, you hurt me.

You're so suspicious.

>> Well, I've got a right to be suspicious.

I would have dug up all this stuff

myself. Of course you would have. It's

just that I think there's one more angle

we might check into.

Well, all right. I'll go along with you.

But don't try to make a monkey out of

me. What, share my peanuts?

Hello, Mike. Oh, I see you brought a

chaperone.

Yeah, a couple of them.

Well, what do we do now? Play games? No,

Helen. We're all through playing games.

What did you mean by that crack? Murder

isn't a game.

We want the blonde who murdered three

men, Madge Rankin, and shot Tim Rourke.

Do I look like a blonde? Not now.

But you gave Philis the name of the

hairdresser who dyed your hair from

blonde to brunette when things got too

hot for you.

Is it Is it a crime for a woman to have

her hair dyed?

But you were a regular guy, Mike.

I didn't think you'd try to pull a dirty

frame like this.

You left a fingerprint on the cards you

gave Philis. It matched that of the

woman who searched Tim's apartment, and

by the way, also that of Mrs. Dilly

Smith.

Dilly's down at headquarters now, and

he's being very cooperative.

I don't know that proves that I

committed any murders.

I've been wanting to do that for a long

time, ever since the other night.

You know, if you ever get a cauliflower

ear, don't look to me for sympathy.

Don't worry, I won't. I dish them out, I

don't take them.

Oh, this is for you, Pete.

Well, I guess we got the murder weapon

all right.

All right, wise guy. Run a ballistic on

that gun. It hasn't been fired in years.

Yeah, I know that you were pretty smart

when you threw away the old barrel after

each murder and slipped in a new one.

But you didn't know that a gun leaves a

distinctive mark on the ejected shell as

well as on the bullet.

Should have picked up your empty shells.

Take it easy.

Take it easy. She's not going to get

away. You got a man out in back.

You know, I can understand the rest of

it, but why'd she murder Madge Rankin? I

don't know. Maybe she got wise to the

setup and threatened to blow the lid off

if I didn't cut her in. You're right,

Shane. She knew too much. You might have

gotten away with it, too, if you hadn't

slipped a new barrel in Bronson's gun

and tried for blackmail. That was

Dilly's idea. Should have gotten rid of

him, too. Well, I hope this winds it up.

I'm getting dizzy. Come on.

Sure good to see you with your eyes open

again, Tim. Well, there's a little life

left in the old hulk.

I must ask you to leave. You're only

supposed to stay a minute. Okay,

beautiful.

We'll stick around town for a while,

Tim. Drop in now and then.

See you.

Hey, Tim. Notice anything strange about

Mike?

No, what? This is the first time he ever

got through a case without being laid

out like a rug. Listen, let me tell you

one thing. Nobody lays Mike Shane out

like a rug.

>> [music]

>> Give me the admission, [music] Bess.

Send another bed up to room 216.

>> [music]

>> Okay.