Original subtitles

(dramatic trumpet music)

(audience applauds)

- Congratulations, Bradley, fine show.

- Thanks, thanks a lot.

- Mr. Bradley you were wonderful, simply terrific.

- Oh, all right, pal, I can manage.

Just call me a cab, will ya.

- What do you want a cab for? Where are you going?

I got a party all lined up for you.

Everybody who's anybody in show business is gonna be there.

They'll need traffic lights

for all the coming and the going.

- Maxie, I love you.

We've been together a long time.

You picked me up in a gin mill

and made me an international name,

but sometimes I could wring your neck.

- Why? What do you mean?

I don't get you.

- We wound up the last show in New York at 4:00 a.m.

I didn't sleep that night because you had to

throw me a farewell party.

I couldn't sleep coming over on the plane

because you had to explain the timetable

of our European tour for me.

Today is Monday.

I haven't slept in three days.

I haven't even had time to smoke a cigarette.

Man, have mercy.

- I don't know what you mean.

Why do you speak in riddles.

You've got time for a smoke now.

- You amaze me.

You really amaze me.

- Aw, come on baby.

I'll find a nice glamorous blonde for you.

- The only glamor I want at this time of night

has four legs, a blanket, and a pillow.

- Cab's ready, Mr. Bradley.

- All right, thanks.

Bye Maxie.

Make my excuses at the party.

- But Brad, you can't-

- Maybe I can't, but I'm doing it.

Oh, keep that glamorous blonde for tomorrow.

(Maxie sobs)

After leaving Maxie to deal with the party,

I jumped a taxi and headed for home.

There were only two things I wanted to do, eat and sleep.

This was my first view of the London lights,

man that traffic.

To avoid it, we turned off into a side street,

but that only made things worse.

And that's how I met Maxine Halbard.

(horn honks)

♪ Feelin' kinda sad and low ♪

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feelin' kinda sad and low ♪

♪ Wondering where you are ♪

♪ Wondering why I had to go ♪

♪ Tears begin to fall ♪

♪ Every time I hear your name ♪

♪ Tears begin to fall ♪

♪ Every time I hear your name ♪

♪ Since you went away ♪

- Sorry, chum, we don't open on Mondays.

- Then what's all the music about?

- Oh, it's just some of the boys making use of the hall.

- Do you mind if I listen?

- Go ahead, help yourself.

♪ My heart keeps telling me that I can't forget you ♪

♪ If it should ever be that you wanna come back to me ♪

♪ Gonna let you ♪

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feeling kinda sad and low ♪

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feeling kind of sad and low ♪

♪ Wondering where you are ♪

♪ Wondering why you had to go ♪

♪ No matter how I try ♪

♪ My heart keeps telling me that I ♪

♪ Can't forget you ♪

♪ If it should ever be ♪

♪ That you wanna come back to me ♪

♪ Gonna let you ♪

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feeling kinda sad and low ♪

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feeling kind of sad and low ♪

♪ Wondering where you are ♪

♪ Wondering why you had to go ♪

♪ Wondering where you are ♪

♪ Wondering why you had to go ♪

(men applaud)

- Well, if it isn't the great James Bradley himself.

You look just like your photo set.

- The name ma'am is Brad.

And why haven't I seen any photos of you?

Anyone who can sing like that

oughta have their picture on the front page of "Downbeat."

- That's a mighty nice thought.

You must communicate it to the editor.

I've tried telepathy, but it doesn't seem to work.

- Well, what do you know.

What else can you do?

- I can drink.

Shall we continue this brilliant conversation in the bar?

- I need food not drink.

- Well, I can cook too.

- Now, you tempt me.

- Brad, have you had a proper sit-down meal

since you've landed in this country?

- Sit-down meal, no, no.

- It takes a singer to remember that a musician's

gotta eat like any other mortal, doesn't it?

- Where are we going?

- The best spaghetti house in town.

- Hey, look baby,

I don't wanna impose.

Come on with me out to a restaurant.

All right, if you want to insult me, go and eat out.

But I'm going to cook myself a meal.

How long do you like your spaghetti cooked?

- Oh, about, about 10 inches.

(Maxine chuckles)

Have you lived here all your life?

- Not yet.

You can light the candles

if you want to do something useful.

- Where are they?

- [Maxine] In the chest of drawers.

(romantic music)

(dramatic music)

Can't you find them?

- Oh, yes, yes, sure.

(romantic music)

(light switch clicks)

Can I have this last dance.

- You've had it, sit down.

(James chuckles)

The night isn't, let's give her some milk.

- What's this? - Sherry.

Nice, dry, Spanish sherry.

- Oh, no, no, no, I like mine wet.

- Well, the only other thing you can have is water.

- Never touch it, unhygienic.

- Drink up and don't talk.

Fire to fire, spark to spark.

A man and a woman alone in the dark.

- It's ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

Show me one woman a man can trust.

- It's chalk to chalk and clay to clay,

show me the woman a man won't betray.

- Sugar to sugar, salt, salt,

if you won't have me, it sure ain't my fault.

- It's gravel to gravel and sand to sand,

show me one girl that a man can understand.

- Maybe so, but it's a 100 to 10

that women know even less about men.

I gotta go.

- Why?

- Ask the clock.

But you're having dinner with me tomorrow night, right?

- All right.

- But?

- But I don't want you to get the wrong idea.

I've got a Canadian boy I'm in love with.

I'm going to marry him

as soon as he starts making some money.

- It figures.

Well, I've got a girl too.

I'm going to marry her

as soon as she get rich enough to keep me.

- Oh Brad, I like you.

You're the kind of man that can get around a girl

without even getting off his chair.

- Let's break up this mutual admiration society

before it gets the better of us.

- I'll call for you at the Palladium.

- No, I'll call for you as soon as I'm free.

I'll ring you about a half hour before

to give you time to get dressed, okay?

- All right, I'll give you my number.

(romantic music)

- Bye, Maxine. - Bye, bye, Brad.

(romantic music)

(quiet knocking)

- I want to know what evidence you've got against my client.

- Mr. Margulies don't excite yourself.

You have the constitution of a man given to apoplexy.

- I resent your attitude, we are guests in your country.

Mr. Bradley's a famous man.

He earns $3,000 a week.

- Most enviable Mr. Margulies,

but does it really have any bearing

on the fact that he ought to tell us

where he spent last night?

- Glad to oblige inspector.

Shall we send Max out of the room,

while we go over the spicy details?

- You keep your mouth shut until the lawyer arrives.

- Oh, dear, dear, dear, before the day's over

you'll be talking of habeas corpus, the Magna Carta,

and the United Nations Commission on Human Rights.

Come, come, Mr. Margulies.

- Nevermind inspector, I'll be glad to tell you

all my secrets, but first maybe you better tell us

what this whole thing is about.

- It's about a young lady named Maxine Halbard.

- Oh? - Do you know her?

- Well I met her.

Anything wrong with that?

- That depends, just tell us how you happened to meet her.

- Well, I was driving home after the show,

minding my own business

and all of a sudden there she was in a cellar.

(Maxie chuckles)

- Let's be serious, Mr. Bradley.

- I can't think of any time in my adult life

when I felt less humorous.

You barge in at seven o'clock in the morning,

before I've barely had a couple of hours-

- A couple of hours you say.

That makes it about 5:00 this morning.

- 4:00, 5:00, 6:00, what's an hour

more or less between friends.

- How right you are.

Time stands still for the dead.

- The what?

- The dead. Miss Halbard was murdered

at about four o'clock this morning.

For one who knew her so briefly as you did Mr. Bradley,

you seem unduly moved.

- She was shot by a .45.

I suppose you didn't happen

to bring a gun along with you, did you?

- Who killed her?

- We don't know, but we're most anxious to find out.

To start with Mr. Bradley, could you tell us

where you think your trumpet might be right now?

- Here we are, Jock.

The lab's finished with all this junk now.

- [Jock] Fine collection for the police museum.

- Tell your client to keep out of mischief

and stay within call of the Metropolitan Police.

- Did you hear that, Brad?

- I heard it.

- And you'd better see that he acts accordingly.

- How can I?

You tell him he's a prime suspect in the murder case,

what he does is walk out and he shave.

What can you do with a man like that?

- Come along, Mr. Margulies, I'll give you a few pointers.

(razor buzzes)

- [James} At last I was alone, alone with my thoughts.

Man, I liked that little chick Maxine.

Now I knew I'd never see her again,

I felt low enough to cry.

(upbeat trumpet music)

♪ Got you on my mind ♪

♪ Feeling kinda sad and low ♪

♪ Wondering where you are ♪

♪ Wondering ♪

(upbeat trumpet music)

- Mr. Margulies says to remind you of your rehearsal, sir.

(upbeat trumpet music)

- All right pal.

Tell him I'm going.

(door clicks)

(upbeat trumpet music)

That's it pop.

See ya later.

- What's the good of asking me that question

over and over again?

I tell you, I didn't make that record.

- But your name is on the label.

I tell you I know nothing about it.

- I no expert on music, Mr. Colt,

but I've got a good ear for a tune.

And that piano sounds to me exactly like yours.

- We played this record to all the editors

of the dance band trade journals

without telling them who was on piano.

Everybody guessed it was you.

How do we explain that?

- I tell you, I don't know.

I don't know.

- Can we have some tea please?

Now look, Mr. Colt, let's start again at the beginning,

you say you've never made any records

with Maxine Halbard in all your life, right?

- That's right.

In fact, you've never met Maxine Halbard in all your life.

- That's right.

- And we think you're lying.

- What? - We think you've known

Maxine Halbard a long time

and that you may well have made

any amount of records with her.

You've told us one untruth after another.

We're not going to detain you,

but we're determined to find out what you're hiding.

You can go now.

- [Woman] Mayfair 7376.

- Gloria? - Who's that?

- [Jeff] It's me, baby.

- Oh, what's happened?

- I want to see you.

- Well, I don't.

- [Jeff] I think you might.

It's happened.

- What's happened?

- Maxine's dead.

- How'd she die?

- [Jeff] I'll tell you all about it when I see you.

- Hello?

Certainly. Mr. Bradley, you're wanted on the phone.

- Who is it?

- Mr. Jeff Colt, sir.

- Jeff Colt?

Is that the British bandleader

who plays that fine rocking piano?

- Yes, sir.

- That's one guy I'd really like to meet.

Hello.

- Hello, is that you Bradley?

This is Jeff Colt.

You may have heard of me.

- Heard of you?

Jeff, I've got all your records at home in my collection.

Great stuff.

- Good. Well, I've got another

I'd like you to hear some time, if you will.

- Glad to. Send it over to my hotel.

Oh, what's it called?

- "I've got a man in New Orleans," piano and vocal, no band.

- Okay. Well, nice to hear from you man.

Let's get together sometime.

- I'd like to Brad sometime.

Yes, after you've had a chance to hear the record.

I'll send it over by hand.

Let me know what you think of it.

'Til then.

- So long.

(upbeat music)

All right boys, that's all for today.

Oh, Fred?

If Max asks for me, tell him I've gone underground.

(people chattering)

♪ I've seen ♪

♪ Nobody knows or cares ♪

♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪

♪ Glory hallelujah ♪

♪ Sometimes I'm up ♪

♪ Sometimes I'm down ♪

- [James] This didn't look like a safe place

to take your mother,

in fact, it looked more like the sort of place

where you leave horizontally or not at all.

I looked for the singer and this I guess must be Barbara.

♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪

♪ Nobody knows or cares ♪

♪ Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ♪

♪ Glory hallelujah ♪

♪ Sometimes I'm up ♪

♪ Sometimes I'm down ♪

♪ Oh, yes, Lord ♪

♪ Sometimes I'm almost to the- ♪

- Watch it pal.

- Sorry, sorry to break up the music.

- Just so as you don't break up the piano, bud.

- Can I get you a drink to make it up?

- I wouldn't use force to stop you.

Ask the man for the bottle.

- If I asked her if she wanted a smoke,

do you think she'd order a flame thrower?

- Ask her and see.

- What happened to your pianist?

- Maybe he got bored and went out to read a good book.

- Maybe he went out to find a place

where the customers listen to the music.

And I mean, that guy's a musician.

- You don't say.

- He's got a left hand like a walking beat.

- Greatest two-handed piano player in the islands.

- Well, maybe that's going just a little bit too far.

- Can't go far enough with Johnny.

- Johnny?

- Johnny Sutherland, my piano player.

- Johnny Sutherland.

Your guy?

- Ah.

- Excuse me, lady, I take back every word I said.

- You know whose guy he is?

Nobody's.

You know who he's in love with?

A diminished seventh chord.

You know What happens to a chick

who's crazy enough to go for him?

Look at my sister.

- Your sister?

- Maxine Halbard.

Read all about it.

Papers are full of her.

- What are you trying to do to Miss Barbara, mister?

- Just trying to buy her a drink and make conversation.

She doesn't seem to be interested in either.

- Miss Barbara shouldn't drink if she don't eat.

- Why doesn't she eat?

- You ask that piano player of hers.

- I'd like to ask him a lotta questions.

Trouble is he's not too eager to answer them.

- What are you trying to say, mister?

- I won't say it.

Not because I'm afraid of you, because I've been warned

you've got tough laws for slander in this country.

- We got our own laws in this club, mister.

One of them is you don't make cracks

about Miss Barbara or Mr. Johnny.

(fist smacks)

(furniture clatters)

(man groans)

(drawer clatters)

(fist smacks)

- That's enough, boys.

I think you better go now.

- So, you're here at last.

Where you been all the afternoon?

Have you seen what the papers say

about your little escapade last night.

You fool you, why don't you leave the chicks alone?

- Oh, Max, be your age.

- You said you wanted to go to bed, a great joke.

You said you wanted to go to sleep, ha, ha.

And you ran out on me when I had a party lined up

with all the big names in British show business there.

- Not to mention the glamorous blonde.

By the way, whatever happened to her?

- Imagine that, don't change the subject.

- On the contrary, I'd like to linger on it.

- I'll tell you this, if you run out on me again,

I'll quit you, that's what I'll do, I'll.

(urgent knocking)

- You're on Mr. Bradley.

- Saved by the bell.

When I got back from the Palladium that night,

I found all my mail in three neat piles.

The way Max likes to arrange it,

fan letters, business correspondence, personal mail,

except that he'd put one large envelope

exactly halfway between the business and the fan mail.

A picture of old Maxie in a quandary.

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

♪ The oysters swing right past his door ♪

♪ I got a man in Boston town ♪

♪ I says, I got a man in Boston town ♪

♪ He bakes my beans all sweet and brown ♪

♪ I got a man in Mary ♪

♪ He bakes my beans all sweet and brown ♪

♪ I got man in Maryland ♪

♪ Got a man in Maryland ♪

♪ He makes ♪

- Will you try to get Mr. Jeff Colt

at the Montpelier Hotel, please.

♪ Baltimore for oysters ♪

♪ Boston for beans ♪

♪ Baltimore for oysters ♪

♪ Boston for beans ♪

♪ Maryland for chicken ♪

♪ But man, give me New Orleans ♪

(phone rings)

- Hello?

- [Man] I'm afraid Mr. Colt checked out of his hotel

this afternoon, sir.

But they gave me a Mayfair number for him.

He's on the line now, sir.

- Oh, thanks.

- [Jeff] Hello?

- Hello, Jeff.

This is Bradley.

Hope I didn't get you outta bed.

- [Jeff] Nonsense, I'm a night owl.

I just got back from work.

Sorry I couldn't tell you I'd moved, it was a bit sudden.

Come on over and have a drink.

- Oh, good, good, I could use one, it's been a rough day.

- [Jeff] It's 55 Park Lane. Be seeing you.

- Right away.

- Well, what did you think of the record?

- What I wanted to ask you about it was

how you play that bass part after the vocal.

You know, where the treble goes down and the bass up?

- Do you want me to show you on the piano?

- That'd help.

(relaxing piano music)

(upbeat piano music)

That was great, but it wasn't what you played on the record.

In fact Jeff, you didn't play on that record.

- I hope you'll tell that to the cops.

- How come?

- I'd like you to be my character witness.

You're the most important figure in the band business,

now in this country.

If you tell them I've never played for Maxine,

maybe they'll stop thinking that I bumped her off.

- You bumped her off?

I thought I was supposed to be the star suspect.

- Oh, don't believe the headlines.

You just happen to be

the most newsworthy character they've quizzed.

Well, us humble mortals have been quizzed as well.

And I tell you, I don't like it.

- What'd they do with you?

- They said, "What do you know of Maxine Halbard?"

I said, "Nothing."

They said, "Yeah, then how come you've been

making records with her?"

I said, "How could I have been making records

with her when I've never even met her?"

They said, "That's what we want to know,"

and so on and so on.

Man, it was weird.

They then produced that disc I sent you.

"Now," they said, "who is playing it if it isn't you?"

Do you know I couldn't tell them.

This chap, whoever he is plays so much like me,

it was like looking in a mirror and seeing a ghost.

Who can it be?

- I don't know, Jeff.

But one thing you can be sure of it wasn't me.

- Oh, come off it Brad, I know that.

All I want to know is what do you know about it?

You know the cops say that you were the last person

to have seen Maxine alive.

That she was playing that record for you,

because it was still on the gramophone

and the turntable was running when they found her.

- That's news.

- Why, didn't they tell you about it?

- No, but now they've got the two of us together

I'll bet you they will.

And before breakfast too.

Only this time I'm going to be ready for them.

Goodnight, Jeff.

- Goodnight, Brad and thanks.

I told you everything was all right darling.

(doorbell buzzes)

- Why don't you guys get yourselves a key?

The one thing you can do if you must disturb a working man

at this hour is let yourselves in and bring some coffee.

- Yuck, yuck, yuck.

- What does that mean in English?

- I'll tell you but remember you asked for it.

A yuck is what we call someone in Ireland too low to kick

and too wet to step on.

- Go on, you fascinate me.

- Why didn't you tell us about your meeting with Mr. Colt?

- Maybe because I haven't had time yet.

- And what were you doing with Maxine's sister?

- Do I have to tell you?

She's of age and so am I.

- Oh, for mercy's sake.

We certainly never mentioned her to you,

what do you know about her?

How did you come to pick on her?

- Very simple.

A big bartender about eight feet tall gave me a shove

and there I was, right in her arms.

- Very funny.

- What's going on around here?

- Oh, nothing to worry about, Maxie.

Just having a quiet little game of conversation.

- As a matter of fact, we've had it.

Goodbye Mr. Bradley.

- Oh, won't you stay for tea and toast, Mr. Mackenzie.

(James chuckles)

That's the fastest piece of police work

I've seen east of Hollywood.

- That little whippersnapper MacKenzie's

trying to show up his own boss, I bet you.

Did you see the way he ran when he saw me?

Can't put anything over on old Max.

- Big words, little man.

- Before you talk that way to me big man,

just be sure you keep your engagements.

- Why, did I lose any?

- You crazy trumpet player,

you're supposed to work in this country not jazz around.

- Maxie.

- We have two recording sessions after this,

an appearance on TV, three personal appearances in clubs,

and other sponsors, and where are you?

- Jazzing around like you say.

- Leaving me to work out the agenda for you.

Wait 'til you hear what you've got to do today

to catch up with what you missed yesterday.

I'll tell you over breakfast.

- Oh, breakfast is one thing I've gotta skip Maxie.

- Where you going this time?

- I'm going out.

- I can see that.

You're not going to see another dame?

- I'm certainly not going to see the same one.

Bye Maxie. Be good.

- Musicians, why did I ever get mixed up with musicians?

(dramatic music)

(playful music)

(dramatic music)

(urgent knocking)

(relaxing music)

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

♪ The oysters swing right past his door ♪

- [Man] Party night, eh?

♪ I got a man in ♪

- Hello, Johnny.

I thought I'd come in and warm up the room

before you got here.

- Cozy.

I suppose now you wanna let your hair down

and have a heart-to-heart chat?

- Suppose we start off with this record.

Do you know the cops been grilling a lot of people

about the unusual record they found in Maxine's room?

Would you rather tell them where you got your copy

or would you prefer to talk to me instead?

- It's no secret, I got it from Maxine herself.

If that's what you're chasing me for,

you're wasting your time.

- You say Maxine gave it to you.

She tell you who played piano for her?

There's no names on the label.

- Sounds like Jeff Colt to me.

- Is that what she said?

- She didn't say anything.

- Then why'd she give it to you?

- We were kicking around together.

How can you say why you give something to a chick

or she gives you something?

How'd you know I had a copy anyway?

- I didn't know.

I was only guessing.

What I can't make out is who makes these gramo discs?

There's no such shop for it listed in the directory.

- That'd be Maurie's private company.

He turns out those discs, mostly for musicians

for audition records, and air shots.

That's no secret either.

Who's Maurie?

- Maurie Green.

He owns the Green Recording Company, Maida Vale.

- A friend of yours?

- Maurie hasn't got any friends

who don't ring up cash for him.

I'm a musician, not a commercial asset.

- Would he know the difference?

- Maurie's got the finest set of ears in the business.

He could hear a pound note hit a plush carpet a mile away.

- I see.

- Is that all you wanna know?

- No, I wanna know a lot more Johnny.

But it looks like I've come to the wrong address.

I think I'll have to pay Mr. Green a visit.

- Why?

- I've got an idea that anybody who had anything to do

with this record is in danger of getting themselves killed,

just like Maxine.

- I don't get it.

- You don't.

- Tell me what you know, maybe I could help.

- I think you're stalling Johnny.

So long.

(Johnny sighs)

(record clatters)

- [Woman] Mr. Green will see you now sir.

- [James] Thank you.

- How flattering to have you visit us Mr. Bradley.

Sit down, won't you.

What can we do for you?

- I'd like to, thank you.

I'd like to record some experimental stuff.

Just for my own ears, you understand.

Some of the boys have been telling me

about those, thanks, about those gramo discs

you make for them.

- Oh, thank you.

Who was it?

Well, there was Johnny Sutherland, the piano player for one.

- I never heard of him.

The only Sutherland I knew used to be a circus artist.

- And Barbara Quigley.

- Quigley?

- Yeah, Barbara Quigley.

Sings in a joint called The Underground Club.

- I've never heard of that one either.

I must be losing touch of the new crowd that's coming up.

- Well, the old crowd like you too.

I heard one you made for Jeff Colt and Maxine Halbard.

- Jeff Colt, Maxine Halbard?

Well, that's crazy.

I've been running after those two for years

to give me a commercial recording contract.

They're always telling me my records weren't good enough.

- Someone must've converted them.

I heard the record myself, it was real fine.

- That's absurd.

If we'd cut a disc with them I ought to be

the first one to know, wouldn't I?

- Could be, I guess so.

- Miss Bolton, could you check through the files

and see if we've ever made a record with Maxine Halbard

or Jeff Colt?

How'd you come across this mystery record, Mr. Bradley?

- Oh, the, the cops found it.

Right beside Maxine,

the night she was murdered.

- But why wasn't that ever mentioned in the newspapers?

Why wasn't I told?

- Don't ask me, ask the cops, or the newspapers.

- You know, someone who doesn't care too much for me

might have stuck my label on somebody else's disc,

just to make trouble.

(intercom beeps)

- [Woman] I'm sorry, Mr. Green, but I can't find any entries

for Maxine Halbard or Jeff Colt.

I've been through the whole index.

- That's all right, Miss Bolton, I didn't think you would.

- Well, Mr. Bradley, when do you think you want to

do your recording session?

Oh, in a couple of days.

I'll have my manager call you, fix the date.

- Good.

(dramatic music)

(doorbell buzzes)

- Mr. Bradley, Mr. James Bradley,

the world famous trumpet player and Palladium headliner.

Why didn't you introduce yourself the first time?

- Just shyness Miss Quigley.

Who told you my name?

- A little birdie.

Come into my parlor.

- You sure I'm not intruding.

I don't want any more quiet conversation

with your eight-foot protector.

- Mickey is as kind as a lap dog.

You just stroked him the wrong way.

- Well, if you teach me how to stroke him the right way

I'll give you a box of chocolates.

- Chocolates, what do you know.

Flowers too.

This is a rare day.

- How come?

Pretty girl like you should have more flowers

than you have vases to put them in.

- More chocolates than she has room for

in her 22-inch waist.

- Now don't tell me you have to worry about

putting on weight?

- If I hadn't stopped worrying about those things long ago,

I'd have worried more about losing weight

than putting it on.

Oh, look, I used to be full of puppy fat

when I was sweet 16.

Amuse yourself with those while I make some coffee.

You never told me what brought you here, Mr. Bradley.

- Just a social visit.

I wanted to apologize for the trouble at the club.

- What brought you to the club in the first place?

- Oh, you of course.

- Oh, really?

Why?

- Oh, I'd heard a lot about you.

Great little voice.

Always interested in new talent.

- You never heard about me, Mr. Bradley.

Not about my voice anyway.

Come on, what's it all about?

- I saw your name on back of an envelope

that Maxine wrote her phone number on.

I didn't know you were sisters.

I was just looking up everyone she knew that's all.

- Why?

- Because I liked her.

- Funny thing, everybody liked Maxine.

Nobody likes me.

- Oh, that's a silly thing to say.

What's wrong with you?

- That's what I'd like to know.

Look.

Those days I used to look pretty good too.

- Who's this, third sister?

- No, no, that's Gloria Lewis.

We called ourselves the Bardsley Triplets.

We never made the grade together,

but we had the best vocal trio in the world

for a year or so.

We'd have taken on the Andrews Sisters

with bare knuckles for 12 rounds.

- Ah, happy days.

- That's right.

Everyone was poor and no one was evil.

Me and Johnny, we'd have made the grade together, but,

his manager, he wanted him in the big time

and bingo, it killed it.

- You don't have to tell me about managers.

- Now that's Johnny when he was really good.

- You told me you had a vocal trio.

This looks like a circus act.

- Oh, yes, it is.

This was after the trio broke up.

Johnny had a two-gun act.

He used to shoot with two hands simultaneously.

- Both hands?

- I got me a job playing target for him.

I had faith in that man.

- Oh, I can see that.

Hey, wait a minute.

What's this?

- Ah, just the wrong thing.

- Maxine?

- Yes, Maxine and Johnny.

That's what broke it up.

She thought he was too good for the circus.

She thought he ought to be a musician.

So, what did she do but take his guns away from him.

Now look where it's got him.

- Look where it's got her.

- What are you trying to say?

(Barbara sobs)

- I'm sorry.

(Barbara sobs)

(soft romantic music)

(urgent knocking)

(soft romantic music)

(urgent knocking)

(soft romantic music)

- Who is it?

- Brad. - What do you want, man?

I'm busy.

- I've got news for you pal.

- That can wait.

- [James] Maybe it can.

Anyway, here it is.

The cops found the gun that killed Maxine.

See you in jail, buddy.

- Hey, wait a minute.

Don't go away, let's talk.

- I don't wanna break up your party.

- That's all right, come on, beat it fellows.

Get out will ya, I'm busy.

Come on in.

Come on, all right, get out come on, fellas.

Come on, shoo.

- Johnny, why do you have your initials on a gun?

- What are you talking about?

- Look, don't play around with me.

I know all about the gunfighter act.

About the man Barbara calls,

the greatest two-handed piano player bar none.

If you can shoot two guns at the same time at living targets

you must be ambidextrous.

Who better to imitate Jeff Colt.

- How's that?

- Because he's left-handed.

When he plays those cross-hand patterns

that are his trademark, he doesn't do it to show off,

he does it because he can't play any other way.

- You got it all figured out, haven't you?

- Well, all except why you made that record?

- It's no secret, just another job.

- Mighty weird kinda job.

- It was just a gimmick record.

Everybody's doing impersonations of singers.

Why not an impersonation of a piano player?

I was gonna do one side, like Shearing,

one side like Tatum, one side like Jeff,

and so on, that's all.

- Well, if that's all it was,

why didn't you tell me about it before?

- How could I.

- I'm the guy that cops were looking for.

I was going steady with her.

I had a date with her that night.

- And?

- I just couldn't get outta the club, that's all.

Barbara can tell you that, the barman can tell ya.

Will the police believe?

- Johnny, I'm not the police, I don't know all the answers.

If what you're telling me is true my lawyer can help you.

I'll go see him, fix up a date for you.

Why are you doing all this stuff?

What do you got to hide?

How do I know you're not the guy that killed my girl.

- You don't, any more than I know

that you're not the guy who killed her.

But don't talk like that Johnny.

- You can't stop me.

You might be rich and famous,

In this country, people don't just walk into a woman's flat

in the middle of the night

without finding out if maybe there isn't a man who minds.

- Where I come from if a man minds

his woman won't ask anybody into her flat.

(fist smacks)

(furniture clatters)

- Now then, what are you two characters fighting about?

- That ain't business of yours.

- Who invited you in?

(men chuckle)

- Next time, don't pick on a guy

who's got enough troubles already, eh Brad.

- Okay, Johnny.

Don't you go slugging a guy who means you no harm.

- There isn't much left in life for me anyway.

Now beat it, will ya.

Take care of yourself.

- Now you must admit Max

that this kind of thing can't go on.

Bradley involved in club riot.

There's a limit to what the public will put up with.

- What I can't understand is how he got

into the papers in the first instance,

If the cops didn't get hold of the story,

how did the papers?

- Somebody talks and that's that.

- Yeah, but who and why?

- The question is not who or why, but what do we do now?

- Now we all have a drink.

- You great comedian.

Have you seen this?

- Don't believe everything you read in the papers Max.

- The point is not whether Max believes

what he reads in the paper, but whether the public does.

- You know what you are Brad?

BOP, box office poison.

Will anyone tell me why I spent 10 years

trying to build him up?

- Maybe because you couldn't resist my charms, sweetheart.

- But it's been 10 years too much.

I tell you, unless you behave yourself I quit.

- All right, then quit.

- Now, don't be silly Bradley.

- That's easier said than done.

- Abuse rolls off my back like a duck.

- Which leaves you holding the bag, Bick.

Goodbye!

- I suppose I'd better go after him and calm him down.

- You do what you like, he's my manager not my nurse.

If he wants to go, let him go.

- You're like little children, both of you.

(upbeat trumpet music)

- First call, Mr. Bradley.

(upbeat trumpet music)

- How we doing?

- Sold right out.

If you play on stage the way you did just now,

you'll keep them coming for as long as the management

will hold you over.

(upbeat music) (audience applauds)

(upbeat music)

(audience applauds)

- [James] I felt like yesterday's corpse

when I finally got away that night.

But having found out what I was after at Johnny's,

I had to check back with Barbara.

(doorbell buzzes)

(Barbara screams)

(door crashes)

Hey!

- Certainly my day for getting knocked about.

- Mine too.

That's like my third fight in two days,

not counting the one with you.

I'm sorry about that.

- Never mind.

Help me up Brad.

- Well, this could get to be a pleasant habit.

(James chuckles)

- Maybe you sent that man to knock me out

just so you could play Good Samaritan afterwards.

What happened to my door?

- That's what you get for screaming behind it

when it's locked.

Do you know who it was and what they were after?

- Some sneak thief, I guess.

Though what he could hope to find

in this sad rat hole of a flat, I can't imagine.

- How'd he get in?

- I don't know.

I came in here to answer the door

and there he was.

- Maybe your wife sent him here to see what you were up to.

- I'm a bachelor.

Maybe the rest of what you say is true.

Is there anything missing?

- I doubt it, there's nothing here that anyone but a lunatic

would wanna take away.

- Maybe it was a lunatic.

The strangest feeling in the back of my neck

that someone might throw a knife at me at any minute.

- Turn your back to the wall

and there won't be room for anyone to throw anything.

- I feel like I've had my back to the wall

ever since I first set foot in this country.

I wish I knew why.

- Well, while you ponder that question,

I'll go and wash my face.

If you find the answer let me know.

I just had an idea.

Why don't you stick around while I get you some food.

- First, because it's ghoulish

the way the girls in this country invite you to dinner.

You never can tell what the night holds for you.

Second, because I've got a taxi waiting outside.

Any more questions?

- Yes, when do I see you again?

- Well, how about tomorrow night?

Suppose I leave a ticket for you at the box office

for the first show, okay?

- Okay, Brad.

And thanks for the flowers.

- Oh, it's nothing, I do it for all the girls.

Will you be all right.

- Yes, I'll lock my bedroom door.

- Good night.

- Good morning, sir.

And a very good morning it is.

- Is it?

Hey, I'll tell you what I'd like to do,

I'd like to rent a car for the day.

You know, one of those drive-yourself service jobs.

You know what I mean?

Maybe I'll see some of this famous English countryside

I've heard so much about.

- What time would you like the car, sir?

- Well, I could be ready in about half an hour.

- Very good sir, the car will be waiting downstairs

when you're ready.

- Ah, that's what I call service.

Thanks very much.

Good luck, Jeff, you'll need it.

Mm hm, I see.

So the small figure after the key there

is the serial number?

- That's right.

- And the last number?

- Oh, that's only used for the gramo disc series

when we don't cut more than half a dozen copies or so.

- If you cut just two copies of one of your gramo discs

they'd automatically be marked one and two.

- That's right.

You see, on this little machine here,

which we built ourselves,

each recording is registered consecutively,

so we can check and find out exactly how many records

we made on any given day.

This machine will keep tab of this.

- And you can tell me exactly when this gramo disc was made

and how many copies of it were cut?

- If it's one of ours I'll be able to.

Let's have a look.

- [Woman] Number please?

- Mr. Sutherland, please.

- You're sure this is one of your records?

- Positive.

- And you're also sure that just two copies were made,

no more, no less?

- I'm sure of everything, except who did the work.

I certainly didn't and there was no entry in the file.

That beats me.

- I'd say you better look out Johnny.

I gotta go now, but you'd better do just as I told you.

- So long, thanks very much.

Sorry I missed Mr. Green.

- That's all right.

I'll tell him everything you told me.

- [James] Later that day,

I went deeper into the English countryside

to find the answer to a missing photograph

from Barbara's album.

(phone rings)

- Mulrooney.

- [Man] Mr. Bradley for you, sir.

- Well, put him through.

- [Man] You're through now, sir.

- Hello, Mr. Bradley.

About time I heard from you.

What have you been doing with yourself?

- As if you don't know.

Still, I do have some news for you.

If you wanna stop over at the Palladium

before the first show tonight,

I'll tell ya who killed Maxine Halbard.

See you then inspector.

- Yes.

- Just had a call from Bradley.

Giving him a free hand has paid off.

Here's a list of people, round them up and get them here

as soon as possible.

Have Mr. and Mrs. Colt picked up first.

They may be on the way to Waterloo.

They're booked on the boat train in half an hour.

Get them back.

- What then?

- We're off to the Palladium for a little fun and games.

Bradley's playing with dynamite.

I only hope it doesn't blow up before we get there.

- You're ready early Mr. Bradley.

There's more than an hour to go yet.

- I've got a feeling tonight's going to be special.

Besides I'm expecting some very important guests.

Oh, it's almost time for them to be here now.

Go out to the stage door and arrange to have them brought in

as soon as they get here, will you please.

- Yes, sir.

(bell rings)

(upbeat trumpet music)

(bell rings)

- I think he should be all right now.

- Let him take his time.

The next time you get yourself poisoned,

just send me a postcard from the morgue, Mr. Bradley.

- The next time you work on a murder case, inspector,

don't steal my photographs

when I'm having my tummy pumped out.

- Your photographs?

- Well, let's just say I borrowed them.

They certainly provided for a lot of entertainment.

Take this one for example.

The Bardsley Triplets,

who of course are neither triplets, nor named Bardsley.

Pass it over to Mrs. Colt will you please.

Might bring back some happy memories.

And here's the fourth member of the Bardsley Triplets,

their pianist, Mr. Jeff Colt.

- Really, Mr. Colt?

You told us at the Yard that you didn't know Maxine Halbard.

- You recognize this one Jeff?

In the course of their promising career,

the Bardsley Triplets frequently found themselves

on the same bill as a trick shooting act

that went under the name of The Gunfighter.

Here's The Gunfighter with his manager.

Could you pass that along to Mr. Green, Jeff.

Now, Mr. Green once told me that the only

Johnny Sutherland he knew was a circus performer.

It was so true, it almost threw me off the track.

And here's our next picture, young love in bloom,

Maurie and Maxine.

- That's a perfectly harmless little holiday snap.

I can't see how you can draw any conclusions from that.

- Oh, but I can.

The trouble is it was harmless.

Love, Mr. Green, is often a one-sided business.

Barbara can tell you that.

Am I right in saying Mr. Green,

that you and Johnny broke up as a team

when Maxine told you she was in love with him?

- Who told you that?

- And that the Bardsley Triplets broke up

over the same affair, with Barbara accusing Maxine

of having muscled in on Johnny?

- Let's not talk about it Brad, that's all done with.

- Barbara, you always have been the forgiving

and forgetting type.

I'd've been in your place,

I'd've cut Maxine's throat then and there.

- Do we take that in evidence against you, Mrs. Colt?

- Do what you like, you can't frighten me.

If I'd been in Barbara's shoes this whole thing

wouldn't have happened in the first place.

I'd've seen to it that no man of mine

was ever left alone with Maxine.

- Did you make that a condition of your marriage

with Jeff when he proposed to you?

- As a matter of fact, I did.

When I heard he'd been chasing around after her

I packed my bags and swore I'd never go back

as long as she was alive.

- You've been mighty successful, Gloria.

You got your man and Maxine is dead.

- All right now, wait for it.

- This is getting to be interesting.

- Proceed, Mr. Bradley.

- Johnny, you told me you never kept

your appointment with Maxine that night.

Is that true?

- Huh.

- No, it is.

- How do you know, were you there?

- I was, and I saw somebody going into Maxine's house

with a record under his arm, right after I left.

Maxine wasn't dead then, Johnny.

And no record was visible in her room when I left it.

- All right, Mr. Sutherland,

you'd better tell us tell us exactly what happened.

- Why don't you let him tell you?

He seems to know everything.

- All I know is that the murderer

was waiting in the phone booth across the street.

And after I left, he went over to Maxine's door.

(dramatic music) (loud knocking)

- Oh, heavens, what's up?

- [James] Maxine knew her visitor well enough

to take 'em right up to her room.

(dramatic music)

He was well enough at home to walk right up

to the chest of drawers and open it.

Maxine must've been baffled, but still not worried.

But at last she realized that something more

than a poor practical joke was going on.

- [Maxine] What are you doing with that gun?

Put it down.

No! No!

No! (gun blasts)

(dramatic music)

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

♪ I got a man in Baltimore ♪

- And that was where I found the record.

When I was called to the scene.

Everything was exactly as Mr. Bradley has described it,

except for one little thing, the gun was no longer there.

For if it had been Mr. Sutherland,

you would have found yourself arrested before dawn.

- You did go to Maxine's that night Johnny.

Realizing that the initials on the gun

would tell the police.

(James groans)

Realizing what the initials on the gun would tell the police

you took it away and hid it or destroyed it, right?

- Yeah.

- Which brings us to the big question.

Who killed Maxine?

With only the record to work on,

the police tackled Jeff, who in turn brought it to me.

When I discovered it wasn't Jeff playing on the record,

I asked myself why anyone should wanna go to such lengths

to involve Jeff so definitely with Maxine.

Now, Gloria's already told us how jealous she is of Jeff

and what she'd do if she found out he'd been seeing Maxine.

Well, this record would prove to Gloria

that he had been seeing her.

But Jeff played it smart, he fixed it

so Gloria would be around to hear me say

that the record was a fake.

Now you have all had good motives

for wanting Maxine out of the way.

But only one of you had motives enough to work out a plan

that would involve other people.

I didn't see the answer myself

'til Mr. Green told me casually that you've been trying

to put Jeff under contract for years,

but Jeff had steadily refused.

Now, Mr. Green, like many successful men,

suffers from a peculiar inability to tolerate rejection.

For example, when Maxine turned him down in favor of Johnny,

his nerves cracked and he went into the famous nursing home

run by the late Dr. Weatherdin in the country.

I drove down there today to have a talk about Mr. Green.

- And what did you find?

- I found out that Dr. Weatherdin had said

that Mr. Green was a dangerous paranoic

and should be detained until treatment is complete.

- That's a lie.

- All right then, what did he say?

- He said the treatment was complete

and I was to be released.

- How do you know Mr. Green?

I saw it, saw it with my own eyes in his notes about me.

- No doctor, least of a psychiatrist,

would let a patient see his diagnostic notes.

- But I tell you, I saw them.

Why are you persecuting me?

Why is everybody always against me?

Why don't you believe me?

- Oh, I believe your Maurie.

The trouble is all the papers concerning your case

disappeared after Dr. Weatherdin's death.

I suppose now we know where to look for them.

The only thing you forgot to destroy

was the picture of Maxine and yourself

outside the mental home.

You thought of that only after

I'd seen it in Barbara's album.

You gave me my cue by trying to get rid of it,

otherwise I might never have suspected a thing.

- It's all lies, lies, lies!

- You put the poison in the mouth piece of my trumpet

when my car was parked outside your studio this morning.

If the inspector hadn't gotten here so fast

I'd be a dead man now and you'd be safe.

- I'm not caught yet.

Before I go Bradley, you interfering busybody, I'll fix you.

(gun blasts)

(Max groans)

- Brad, are you hurt?

- No, but I would be if it hadn't been for this lunatic.

- [Inspector] Take him away.

- Come on, Green.

- Why'd you do it man?

- Better I get hit than you.

You need your arm for your trumpet.

Me, I only need mine for conversation.

- I thought you quit me.

- I can't quit you baby.

Where'd you be without me?

- In a coffin.

Maybe then I'd get some sleep.

- It's only a nick, I'll soon fix it.

(playful music)

(audience chuckles)

- Now what are we gonna do?

- I suppose I'll have to tell them he's had an accident.

- We could put his band on without him.

No, I know, they'd murder you out there.

- What's the trouble fellas?

Can I help?

- But, Brad this is crazy,

you're supposed to rest for a week.

- I can rest better playing my trumpet.

- No, not that again, please.

- Don't worry, Maxie.

This is my old mouth piece.

Inspector Mulrooney has generously returned it for action.

(audience applauds)

(upbeat trumpet music)