Original subtitles

Taxi!

Boy, what luck. That car of mine.

Uh, "17 Paseo Verde," please.

Right.

You got a match?

Oh, you could have turned right there,

but I guess it's just as simple to turn at Woodford.

Uh, excuse me.

You didn't take that turn at Woodford, and...

Shortcut, miss.

I think if you turn right here, you...

I-I think you'd better stop and let me out.

Uh, driver, do you hear me?!

I said you'd better let me out.

Look, what are you doing? Are you crazy?!

What's going on?

Driver! Driver!

Please stop! Let me out!

Stop! Let me out of here!

Please?

Please!

Stop this car! Stop!

Please! Please!

No!

♪ ♪

Just take it easy, Miss Welles.

That's why I was coming to see you.

Something like this happened before.

Or almost happened.

When was that?

Right after Mr. Benson's funeral.

Some... some man started to follow me.

Why would anyone want to kill you?

I, I don't know.

Miss Welles.

Have you gone to the police?

No. I wouldn't know what to tell them.

Did Rex Benson leave you any instructions,

anything you should do or get or find

in case of his sudden death?

No.

Miss Welles, try to think.

Working for a private detective

isn't like any other job, right?

No, it isn't.

Well, when Mr. Benson was killed,

you had loose ends, things to do.

No, the police took the papers, files, everything.

I really think you ought to go to the police.

I will... later...

when that horrible man is caught and put away.

Well, how do you expect that to happen

if you don't report to the police?

You'll find him.

How? You can't describe him.

You can't remember whether he was seven feet tall,

three feet wide or what? I just can't...

Miss Welles... can you tell me, uh...

Can you tell me who,

which one of his clients owed him the most money

or paid him the most money?

No.

Well, who was his most important client?

Why are you testing me?

Well, now, why did you come here?

Okay.

Um, Mr. Ferguson, the hotel owner...

Mrs. Williams...

"Claxton," I think his name was...

He's a furrier...

Uh, Mr. Martell, in real estate...

several women wh-whose names I don't know...

and a guy with an accent, French,

whose name I never knew.

Well, he never told me much about his business.

Miss Welles, have any of his clients

contacted you since his murder?

Yes, Mr. Ferguson, Mr. Martell and one more name that I forgot.

If it weren't such fun working for a private detective,

it would really be a drag, wouldn't it?

Miss Welles, have you any idea why this man wants to kill you?

No.

I don't know why.

But he does.

She shouldn't be alone.

You mind spending a night here with her?

I'll stay at the athletic club.

Okay. I'll get a babysitter.

You'll get the bill.

Don't let anyone in and just keep talking to her.

Maybe she'll remember... something.

To the best of her recollection...

Which isn't exactly top-notch...

This is a description of her assailant.

Oh, and the name and address

of the two guys that saved her.

All they remember is that he was wearing gloves.

I ought to put you on the payroll.

Well, look, now, I tried everything I could

to get her to come to the police.

I did everything but throw her out on the street.

He really had her scared.

Okay, okay.

We still don't have a thing on the guy

who killed Rex Benson.

It's a real professional job.

This sounds the same.

What's your interest in this, Joe?

Are you out to avenge the killing

of one of the "revered members of your profession"

and all that junk?

I'm not even sure I have an interest in this.

I was no fan of Rex Benson's.

If this Miss Welles is the same Miss Welles

I questioned after her boss's death,

I can see why you'd be interested.

I hope that's spicy enough for you.

Oh, right on the button.

Dave, I've helped you with your work.

How about helping me with some of mine?

I'll have to see her, talk to her.

Well, she's at my place.

Why don't you stop by in the morning?

Mannix, how can she afford you?

Well, she can't,

but, uh, maybe one of her boss's clients can.

The only one I know with that kind of money is Greg Martell.

What about Martell?

Charming.

Poor kid.

That poor kid.

I'll pay you to protect her.

That's the least I can do.

What's that supposed to mean, Mr. Martell?

It means I like her.

I'd like her to go to work for me. She's sharp.

She'd do well in the real estate business.

And I know she can be trusted.

Well, thank you for the drink.

That's all?

That's all.

Mr. Mannix, I... I guess I thought

you were coming to see me

to pick up where Rex Benson left off.

I do need someone.

I guess Maggie told you about me.

No.

She'll remember. As soon as she recovers

from what happened, she'll tell you.

Oh, by the way, before I forget,

would you give me a number where I can reach her?

No. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Martell.

Mr. Mannix, I was being blackmailed.

I still am.

Rex Benson was trying to find out who it was.

You, uh, didn't go to the police?

No. The more people who know,

the more likely I am never to hear the end of it.

Never be able to put a stop to it.

Why tell me?

If I pay for your services,

I figure I also buy your trust, right?

Right, but you're not employing me, Mr. Martell.

After what I've told you, I think I'd better.

The rest of it is...

the rest of it is, I've been in prison.

Now, my business associates know that I'm a "primitive"...

A self-taught type.

But if they found out about this prison term,

that would wipe out my whole land development deal

that I've got going.

You're a gambler.

Was I wrong about you going to work for me?

I'm working for Miss Welles.

Mr. Mannix, I want to be free of the man who's blackmailing me.

I couldn't stand a scandal.

Not now.

That would kill the land development deal and ruin me.

I've got to put my own interests first.

I want you to find the blackmailer.

I'll think about it, Mr. Martell.

In a couple of days,

I've got to make another payment.

Rex Benson used to do that for me.

I'd be scared to death to do it myself.

I'll get back to you.

Lieutenant Angstrom.

Dave, you were right about the charming Mr. Martell.

He's charming.

I was also right about the attack on the girl being

the same kind of professional job.

We found the real cab driver with a big bump on his head

and no description of the guy who slugged him.

Well, that leaves us nowhere. Anything else?

Yeah. It's nice to know you don't really trust me, buddy.

What is that supposed to mean?

You told me Miss Welles was at your place with Peggy.

I had some questions to ask, so I called.

And?

Mannix, there's nobody there, and you know it.

Peggy?

Peggy?

Hello.

Hi.

Peggy, why don't you stay put?

Why can't you have ladies' nighties in your dresser

and cold cream and hair curlers?

Peggy, I understand. Okay...

Baby Doll racing on the outside...

Joe! Joe?!

Yeah.

Joe, are you all right?

Yeah, I'm all right, Peggy.

What happened?

Well, I think our cab driver came back

to give Maggie another free ride.

Howdy, Peggy.

Don't tell me you bought that outfit?

No, it came with the trailer.

You sure you weren't followed?

With that rig and this outfit?

Not a chance.

Now, you'd better ride in the back.

Peggy, I'll get you a phone number as soon as we get there.

Right.

We're staying at the Seaside Trailer Camp in Malibu.

I just love the ocean.

And it does a lot for you, too.

Thank you.

Back to business.

Rex Benson put ketchup on everything...

Even waffles.

Go on.

He'd always send me out for things

like peanuts and cashews,

although as long as they were peanuts, it didn't matter.

Oh, popcorn; I always used to go into a theatre

around the corner for popcorn... With butter, of course.

Getting hungry?

Maggie, we just had lunch.

That's right.

Also, he loved cheese blintzes.

I don't see how anybody couldn't, but...

Oh, it's such a beautiful day.

I'm going to go back... Oops.

Now you're doing fine.

Just keep going.

I'm doing all the work, and you just listen.

That's the general idea.

And when you come up with something important,

then I do the work, and you relax.

Like what something important?

I'll know when I hear it.

He loved electric razors.

Had one of every kind ever made.

And men's colognes, all those, too.

Well, that's enough for today.

I'll meet you back here first... Maggie...

I know you feel gay and light and happy...

That's just great.

But, uh, if we're going to find out

why somebody wants to kill you.

You're going to have to turn that mind inside out.

Gee, these trailers are neat, everything all together.

Kind of cozy.

Maggie.

All right.

He used to wear sport shirts, which was fine,

except he'd wear them more than one day, which was not so fine.

Sometimes his socks didn't match.

They'd be blue and red, or red and gray, like that.

Do you think he was color-blind?

Maybe.

I do appreciate what you're doing for me.

And as to what a nice girl like me is doing with a guy

like Rex Benson, the answer is, I don't know.

The pay wasn't bad.

Probably not as much as you pay Peggy, but...

You're mumbling, Maggie.

Did I tell you he was dragged up by his mother, really dragged?

He hated her.

She must have hated him, too.

Are you suggesting that his mother might have killed him?

With her cooking, she could have, according to him.

Go on.

He chased women

incessantly, compulsively and indiscriminately.

All private detectives do, right?

Uh, was he married?

No.

You married?

No.

Well, he was a health bug.

Had one of those jogging machines in the office,

to say nothing of chinning bars and barbells.

Well, that ought to do it for now.

I've got to get back into town.

Joe, I'm afraid to stay alone.

I'm scared.

Well, I'm not asking you not to be scared, Maggie.

Just pretend you're not until I get back.

I appreciate your concern and interest for Miss Welles,

but you've got her hidden somewhere.

I'm not forgetting the fact that somebody tried to kill her,

but I'm making the point that she is safe.

Let's stop worrying about her and start thinking about me.

What about you?

I have to pay my dues to the man on Saturday.

I also have to be in Boston tomorrow

for the biggest deal of my life, and I don't want to blow it.

You know, this is the first time I've had to beg anybody

to take my business and my money.

A man was killed doing business for you, Mr. Martell.

What do you want?

When were you in prison?

Five years ago.

For how long?

Long enough. What's all this about?

You want me to find out who's blackmailing you,

answer my questions.

You want a delivery boy, go hire one.

All right.

All right.

How long were you in for?

Two years, assault with a deadly weapon.

Who was it you assaulted with a deadly weapon?

Oh, I don't remember his name.

I was drunk and down-and-out.

I had a short temper and a gun.

The guy said something, I flipped.

Where did they send you?

San Quentin.

When will you be back from Boston?

Week or two.

I'll leave you an envelope with the cash and the instructions

on where and when to leave it, Saturday night.

There will also be a check in it for you.

Why Saturday? Why not now?

I'll tell you why Saturday night.

I hate paying the money to that man.

$1,500 a month, and I don't like to draw it out of the bank

until the moment I have to.

He gets his money Saturday night.

All right, Mr. Martell. Saturday night.

What have you got, Peggy?

Trouble, I think.

Our friend's been here again.

You're sure?

He put the calendar back to the right date.

I was one day behind. That's why I'm here.

Nice going, I think.

He found the car rental folder.

He'll be looking for you.

You'd better take evasive action.

First thing in the morning.

I'd like a 100,000-mile checkup.

It's only got 300 miles on it.

Can't be too careful.

I know it's a waste of energy, but I was worried about you two.

Oh, we appreciate it.

Martell spent two years in San Quentin

about five years ago.

Find out who his cell mates were,

who his parole officer was and the name of the man

who he assaulted with a deadly weapon.

Okay.

Might as well find out the name of the arresting officers

and the judge who sentenced him.

Oh, and find out if Martell had a previous conviction.

You're finished, I hope.

For now.

What's been going on?

Lieutenant Angstrom called.

He still wants to talk to Maggie Welles.

Tell him he's going to have to stand in line.

Yes, sir.

Now, just what does that mean?

Are you finished, sir?

Come on now, what's this "yes, sir, yes, sir" bit?

Well, whatever you do,

just remember one thing,

you already have a secretary, Mr. Mannix.

You look tired.

Oh, thank you.

Go on, Maggie.

Sure.

Let's see...

Rex was, uh, very big on betting on all the basketball

and football games that played anywhere.

He was pretty good at it.

I remember this one time... Maggie.

Sorry.

Um, he was an absolute nut on pajamas.

Exotic pajamas.

Had, had me buying them for him every time somebody had a sale.

Silk, mostly. Imported mostly.

He must have had a hundred pair or more.

Oh, I told you how bad a cook his mother was, didn't I?

Mm-hmm.

Yeah?

Manager.

What is it? Telephone.

Would you mind taking a message?

I'll pick it up later.

All right, Mr. Smith.

Okay, Maggie, now, let's get on with it.

Now, that was very nice, and I like you, too, but, uh...

I thought when you said, "Let's get on with it."

Maggie, I'm tired, and we're not getting any place.

And unless we get someplace, you're dead.

Now, I don't know how else to put it to you.

What do you want me to do?

I want you to remember everything.

I'm trying.

I'm really trying.

I don't know anything that would

make him want to kill me.

I don't know anything!

The book of matches.

What?

The book of matches!

Here it is! Here it is!

The book of matches that the man gave me,

the man that tried to kill me!

You had me concentrating so hard

on the life and times of Rex Benson.

Anyway, isn't it great?

I found them!

The Hideaway Bar and Grill.

Isn't that great?!

Aren't I clever, huh?

Yeah.

Now, you think you're clever enough to stay here

with the doors locked

and the blinds drawn until I come back?

Do I have to?

Yes, you have to.

We're getting closer.

Mr. Smith?

Oh, Mr. Smith?

Yeah?

That lady who called,

she wouldn't leave any message.

Oh, well, uh, I think I know who it was.

Thanks. Good night.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Peggy, what'd you turn up?

The word on Martell's two San Quentin pals.

Ralph Towbridge, and Francis, alias Frank Connelly.

Both very much alive and out of prison.

Did you call Angstrom?

He's tracking them down now.

Good.

Now, give me those names again.

Frank Connelly and Ralph Towbridge?

That's Towbridge over there.

The guy with the glasses.

Thanks.

The name is Mannix.

Congratulations.

I'm a friend of Martell's.

Shove off, mister. I don't know you.

Greg Martell, your pen pal at San Quentin.

Pen pal?

You're cute.

Buzz off, fuzz.

Oh, I'm no cop.

Hey, pal, you're violating my right of privacy.

You're going to get a lot of privacy

unless you turn on your memory.

Now, where's Connelly?

You know Frank?

Where does he live?

You don't know Frank.

Now, uh, Towbridge, I'm trying to save you a trip to uglyland.

You interested in that?

Now, uh, I'm going to ask you again, Towbridge.

Where's Frank Connelly?

They don't make vests thick enough for me

to be giving you or anybody information about...

Hey, what's his name again, mister?

Frank Connelly?

What makes you think

Frank Connelly's our man and not Towbridge?

Well, the man we're looking for doesn't drive with glasses.

Towbridge can't see four feet without them.

You could be right.

Connelly's been up twice for armed robbery.

Both times with a P .38 automatic.

Now, he's our man all right. I...

Chili, Lieutenant, medium hot.

Um, put it in the drawer.

I ordered a pickup on him.

Also a stakeout at the Hideaway Bar and Grill.

Well, the taxpayers are

finally about to get their money's worth.

By the way, when are you going to release Miss Welles

so that the civil service system gets its chance?

You can have her right now

if you'll keep her locked up and hidden.

I can't quite do that, Mannix, you know that.

Well, I just guess I'll just have to keep on

forcing myself to take care of her.

Be careful, Joe.

Frank Connelly's a bad boy.

Well, I told you where he steals his matches.

Find him.

Don't let the chili get cold!

I'm sorry.

It's hot.

What's going on in the world outside?

The police are looking for one of Martell's cell mates.

It's a chance.

I know, I know.

Rex Benson, his life and times.

Funny, but true.

Well, um, he was a health bug.

Used to exercise in his office all the time.

He had a jogging machine in his office.

I've been there already, huh?

Um, he used to wear brown and white shoes in the summertime.

Beau Brummell.

Hmm, and straw hats.

Fancy ones with narrow brims.

Played golf, terrible golf.

Lied a lot about his scores.

Mmm!

Oh, uh, would you?

Uh, he was a bug on, uh, shortwave radio broadcasts.

Knew when the English language broadcasts

came in from... from, uh, Tokyo, Moscow, Berlin, Helsinki.

Chewed his nails a lot.

Most of the time he tended his own business.

Every now and then he'd let me do a few things.

Like what?

Besides exotic pajamas, that is.

Um, well, like

liquor gifts for his lady friends.

Cordials mostly, flowers, oh, and, uh, parking tickets.

Rex Benson might have been a lot of things,

but he had a conscience.

One time he had me pay a parking ticket

that was five years old.

A lot of other things, too,

but that really made an impression on me.

Yeah, fascinating.

Let's see, what else?

Five years old? What?

The parking ticket.

Oh, yeah.

They got a big kick at the Motor Vehicle Bureau

out of how honest it was to pay it.

What's so important about that?

You didn't know Rex Benson the way I knew him.

He wouldn't pay anything he didn't have to pay.

How long ago did you pay that?

A few months. Two, three... That may be it.

What?

Miss Welles... it's been a pleasure.

What?

Oh, and to think I've already got a secretary I'm happy with.

What?

Make the coffee, Peggy.

"Make the coffee, Peggy.

"Go down to the Traffic Violations Bureau, honey,

"on your day off and check that parking ticket."

You know, you got nerve, I'll give you that.

Saturday morning, my day off.

It's triple time. Triple time.

How's Maggie?

Or am I supposed to refer to her as Mrs. Smith?

Oh, she's fine.

I told her I have a secretary I'm perfectly happy with.

Well, that was nice of you. Mm.

That was very nice.

What about the parking ticket?

Oh, I practically had to turn the place upside down,

but they came through finally.

That parking ticket was five years old, and she did pay it.

Except it wasn't written on Rex Benson's car.

At least not the car that was registered to him.

The car belonged to Martell.

Martell?

Maybe Benson was borrowing it.

No.

No, I don't even think Martell knew Benson five years ago.

That's the time he was in prison.

Right.

Now, Martell gets a traffic ticket five years ago.

He also goes to jail for assault with a deadly weapon

and serves two years.

Some time after that,

somebody starts blackmailing Martell,

so Martell hires Rex Benson to find out who it is.

And exactly three months and ten days ago,

Benson's secretary shows up

and turns on the Traffic Violations Bureau

by paying a parking ticket that's five years old.

Which brings us to the public library.

Right.

Peggy, check the newspapers on the day of that traffic ticket.

Find out if anything happened that might help

make sense out of this whole thing, huh?

And I thought I was going to have

a half a day off on my day off.

I'm sorry, Peggy.

I got to go to Martell's office and pick up some money.

I got a drop to make tonight.

I'll make the coffee.

Hello.

Well, uh, is this the manager?

Speaking.

This is Mr. Smith.

Which Mr. Smith?

Calvin Smith.

I want you to tell Mrs. Smith, that...

I can't tell her anything right now, Mr. Smith.

What do you mean? What happened?

Well, she left here a couple of hours ago.

With another young lady.

Said she was your, uh, secretary.

Oh, one more time.

That is... I would have died...

Uh-oh.

I thought I told you to stay put.

I know, but...

Since I worked on my day off,

and Maggie had been cooped up here all day long...

Yeah, I needed the change.

So we went down to the pier, we had some dinner,

and we discussed our bosses and had some laughs.

Yeah, and it was fun, too.

They're back in their trailer now.

That's just fine.

Thank you very much.

What happened to your head?

My friend was waiting for me when I made the drop.

Oh, I should say, your friend.

I still don't understand why he slugged me.

The money was there.

All he had to do was wait until I left.

What did you find at the library?

It happened just like Martell said.

Three witnesses saw him walk up to some guy

and start threatening him with a gun.

Nothing else?

The only other thing that day was Sam Kroner was killed,

the big wheel in the numbers racket.

What about the parking ticket?

Kroner was killed on the same day?

The same day that Martell was arrested,

August the 21st.

And what day was the parking ticket issued?

August the 21st.

Aha.

What's the connection between the parking ticket and-and...?

What time did Martell commit

that assault with a deadly weapon?

Shortly after 10:00 p.m.

And the shooting of gangland chief Kroner took place

about 9:15 the evening of August 21st.

I know a lot of guys around town

that would pay good money to have someone get rid of Kroner.

Now, if a guy was smart,

he could've killed Kroner for the big money,

then got tough with a guy across town,

in front of witnesses, served time,

get out and get into the real estate business.

Hey, I think you're right.

Well, what's the parking ticket got to do with it?

Martell was supposed to be

across town at the time.

The parking ticket could have wiped out his alibi.

So, he asked his good friend Benson

to take care of the ticket as a favor.

Benson gets curious and puts two and two together.

And he was the one that was blackmailing Mr. Martell.

Right.

When Martell figured it out, it cost Benson his life.

That's why you were a target, too.

You paid the parking ticket.

Martell probably couldn't sleep nights,

worrying when you'd put it all together.

Well, let's get down to Angstrom's office

and make this his headache.

I'll see you there.

Okay, Peg. Thanks for dinner. Sure.

Listen, get your clothes together.

We'll leave the trailer here. Okay.

Now, just the two of them are there.

Okay.

Now, I think if both of you stay inside,

and keep real quiet,

everything's going to be all right, hmm?

I'd appreciate it.

Get down!

You all right?

Yes.

He's out there, so you stay here.

Please.

I'll be right back.

Now you stay down.

Maggie, lock the door!

Lock the door and stay down!

Maggie, you all right? - Yes.

When you didn't show up at Angstrom's office

I figured something was up, so I went to Martell's apartment.

Does that make sense?

Yes, after what we figured out about him.

Peggy, stay away from his apartment.

It's too late.

I wasn't there long anyway,

and Martell left in a big rush.

You didn't follow him?

Mm-hmm, to an old building near the ballpark.

I know the place, Peggy. Now, please, will you go home?

How did it go, Frank?

No trouble.

Girl's lying in the ocean with a couple of holes in her.

That's good.

What about Mannix?

No charge for Mannix.

That's perfect, Frank.

I'll take the rest of my money now.

Hold it right there, Martell!

She's still alive too, isn't she?

He didn't kill her either.

You should have stopped after you killed Rex Benson.

You were ahead of the game.

The girl had memory: zero.

What?

You were worried about her for nothing.

She never would have remembered that parking ticket.

She's not the type.

Now, listen, Mannix... Sorry.

I'm off your payroll.

You'll find Frank Connelly down in the basement dead, I'm sure,

shot by this charming gentleman.

We'll take him. Let's go.

You all right?

You were supposed to stay home.

I know.

I don't ever want to see you

stick your neck out like that again, do you understand?

I use my initiative, tail Martell here,

call you in time to get him,

I don't want to hear about it. to say nothing of calling the police, too,

and you-you bawl me out?

I pay you, too, remember that.

Yes, you do.

On my day off...