All language subtitles for Blind Spot

[Music]

[Music]

[Music]

Maybe you've been seeing too many movies

about authors lately.

You know the kind.

Those with penthouse

apartments, glamour girls' secretaries,

fur-bearing wives, and

stock in the building alone.

[Music]

Why wasn't that variety?

At least not on the afternoon in August

when the trouble started.

It seems that writing good books and

writing books that sell

are two different rings.

[Music]

I had just about come

to the end of my rope.

I needed courage to do what

I was forced to do that day.

It isn't easy to beg money from a man

you'd rather kick in the teeth.

[Music]

Let's get one thing straight.

I hated Henry Small.

He published my stuff

because of prestige value.

But he resented every

dollar he had to pay me.

What's more, he had me

neatly tied to a vicious contract,

which circumstances

had forced me to sign,

and which was locked

securely in his office safe.

There was no future for me while he had

this in his possession.

You promised to send it up two hours ago.

Well, the boy must have died, and I will

too, unless I get something to eat.

Look, can't you bring it up yourself?

Bacon, tomato, and

whole wheat. Thank you.

Good afternoon. I want to see Small.

He's in conference and

left word not to be disturbed.

If he'll give me your name, Mr. Small

will notify you by mail

when it will be

convenient for him to see you.

Oh. Well, look, sister,

convenient or not convenient,

I want to see Small right away.

She's just press one of your little

brothers there and tell

them Mrs. Andrews is outside.

I'm sorry. You can't see Mr. Small today.

Thank you.

Just a minute.

I told you you can't go in there.

Say, you must be a new piece

of furniture in the office.

Small always did go in

for interior decorating.

You're drunk.

That's right.

That's what comes from

nipping out of empty stomach.

Yeah, Small's quite a collector.

Quite a collector.

No answer.

Just cheap, martyred stuff.

What do you want? I've got to see it.

Some of the time I'm busy right now.

Yeah, yeah, I can see that.

I'm sorry, Mr. Small.

I tried to stop him.

Oh, that's all right, Miss Green.

What do you mean by breaking in this way?

I tried to announce myself.

I didn't know written requests for

audience now required.

I'm too busy to see you this afternoon.

Now, look, Small, I didn't come all the

way up here just because

I was dying to see you.

Or even to annoy you.

Well, that might have

been worth the trip.

Well, if it's money you want, the

answer's the same as last time.

I'm a publisher, not a

charity organization.

Not looking for charity, Small.

You're the last man in the

world I'd come to for that.

All I want is what's due me.

I happen to know my last

novel sold over 2,000 copies.

If it did, which I doubt, the fact will

appear on your next royally statement.

And what am I supposed to do until then?

I bring it.

What you do is your own affair, Andrews.

You wouldn't find yourself in this

predicament if you'd forget about art and

write stuff people want to read.

Oh, then what do you suggest? Something

you can try to get banned?

How about a gooey love story

that'll sell serial rights, huh?

Adam and Eve, in modern dress, of course.

Or maybe you'd have me write a mystery.

Turn myself into a sort of

littlery jack-the-ripper.

Mr. Harrison here hasn't

done too badly with mysteries.

Hello. I've been wanting

to meet you for a long time.

Ignore him completely. There is no other

writer of

psychological novels can touch you.

Thank you very much.

Mysteries. Is that what you want?

Do you seriously expect me to waste my

time writing that pap?

Maybe my books aren't popular. Maybe I

haven't many readers.

Or at least those I

do have are imbeciles.

Well, it isn't that bad. Some of the

greatest minds of the world find this

type of literature stimulating.

Our late president, for example, was an

avid reader of detective fiction,

and besides, they aren't as

easy to write as you may think.

Simple matter of carpentry, that's all.

All of the literary plumbing.

Look, you pick a murderer, and he

confuses a reader by bombarding him with

a lot of red herring,

like a Fulton Street fishmonger.

Don't pay any attention to him, Lord.

What I do is write in many respects.

You forget the solutions must be

completely logical as well

as acceptable by the reader.

If I couldn't invent better mysteries

than are being hacked out today,

I'd quit writing and

take up window dressing.

And furthermore, I'm

prepared to prove today.

Hey, Small, look.

Small, would you be willing to write me

out a little check for

advance on a whodunit

if I give you the synopsis of plot now

immediately, in fact, at once?

Andrew's you're drunk, and

you're talking through your hat.

Here's $20. Get out.

Play on.

Wait.

You're embarrassingly rude.

Let's listen to Mr. Andrews.

Oh. He's had too much to

drink, and he's just sounding off.

Ah, is that so?

Well, as a matter of fact, I have

something to work out.

It's not even a minute ago.

Shows you how easy it is.

It's like far and awful wog.

More people get hurt that way.

- Who want me to say, Andrews?

Tell us your story.

- Hmm?

Story?

Oh, oh yes, story.

There's, well, I'd

have my murder take place

in a locked and bolted room.

Room locked and bolted on the inside.

There are no windows at all, none.

- It sounds like a coat

closet or a Turkish bath.

There are no rooms without windows.

Be a good fellow, Andrews.

There's my $20.

Go out and finish getting drunk.

- All right, the raw windows end.

But they're the kind that don't open.

Like that one there.

Can't open, is he?

The room is air conditioned.

Kadabir, wealthy publisher, maybe,

is found stabbed to death

in a locked and bolted room.

Room locked and bolted from the inside.

He's discovered by

Detective Jeremiah K. Plumtree.

- That's a cute name, Jeremiah.

- Plumtree.

- It was New England, their old family.

Particularly Plymouth Rock.

- He has a fetching little trick

which will immediately

endear him to a gentle reader.

He eats caramels with their wrappers on.

- Great character, great.

Oh, miss, I want to apologize.

Sincere, I'm sorry.

Deeply regret misunderstanding.

Please forgive us.

Shouldn't have said what I did

about small, not collecting antiques.

But on second thought,

perhaps it was the whiskey I'd put away.

Or maybe it was because the whiskey

or maybe it was because the

nasty job I had to do was over.

But I felt very lighthearted that evening

after leaving small.

As far as I can remember,

the world was an enormous red apple

and the moon was made of green cheese.

And the stars were the diamond studs

and some angels best.

And every living,

breathing human on Earth

was better than he was, including myself.

This surely called for a drink.

Good night, Miss Green.

- Good night, Mr. Harrison.

- Miss Green, I'm staying late tonight.

I have some work to clean up.

It's, it's passings.

Do you mind staying?

- No, sir.

Shall I close the safe now?

- Oh, I'll tend to that.

(footsteps)

- Brilliant fellow that Andrews.

- A big part of Lloyd?

- I read everything he ever wrote.

One of his days he

will click, mark my word.

- Oh, even when he does

click, I'll be around.

I can pick up six 10-year options on him.

- Holy Toledo.

That reminds me, what

about rewriting my contract?

- I'm sorry, Lloyd, but the

answer's no, that's definite.

This is a world of doggy-dog, you know.

- Yes, and why should

doggy distinguish the writer?

You know, the only

reason I didn't sue you yet

was that to appear in court,

you have to get up

awfully early in the morning.

- Don't lose your beauty sleep.

- I wouldn't want to stop writing.

I'll go to another publisher.

- Another publisher?

Are you kidding?

- Look.

- Go on, Nudge, step wide, will you?

- What a why.

- Oh, Mr.

- You want to know how

foul a deed was accomplished?

- No, ain't interested.

- Look, Jack, you've

had enough for one day.

- Why don't you go home?

- Why don't you brush

the hair out of your eyes

and think for a minute, if possible.

- Locked in bolder room.

- Corpse stand.

Death instantaneous.

- It's fascinating.

- Yeah, I'm all a Twitter.

- Listen, chum, the

guy who runs this dump

is a friend of mine, and

on every shot of liquor

he makes about 200%.

But when I see a nice

guy like you get stiff,

I worry, can't help it.

Ever since I saw that picture

about the fellow harkenest typewriter.

- Oh.

- Good evening, Mr. H, be right with you.

- Haven't seen your picture of a guy like you?

- No, I haven't seen your picture of a guy like you. - Haven't seen you around lately, Mr. H.

- I've been busy my,

we'll give you a martini.

I'll go and wash up.

- Right, two hours.

- Warm her up.

- I oughta slip you a Mickey.

- You trying to kill

yourself or something?

- Can you think of a better way to die?

Just imagine it.

People kicking off all over the world.

By the thousands, by the millions.

I don't know the statistics.

- I guess it's about 100%.

- Being hit by cars

and slipping in bathtubs,

being shot and stabbed.

Stabbed, stabbed in a

locked and bolted room.

How did murderers escape, huh?

- Seems the police is

only vanished into thin air.

- Well, hi there.

Did you come to get

your drink on the house?

- Yes, if your office still holds good.

- Oh, sure it does.

Hey, what happened to you?

You're coming apart.

You have an accident, miss?

- How could man build door on inside?

- Just a lush.

- Don't pay him no attention, piss.

- Detective, don't be afraid of him.

- Took him a little while, but he did it.

- Mr. Andrews.

- He did it.

Everyone else failed.

Sherlock Holmes, a pre-bo guard?

Well, well, well.

If it isn't small, there's well

upholstered bodyguard.

- Mr. Andrews, I want to apologize

for the way I acted upstairs.

I was very rude.

I didn't know who you were.

- Oh, apologies, I've

just said it a little more.

- I don't know what got into me.

I'm not usually so--

- Look, I failed a secret.

I wanted you to boil.

- Mm-hmm.

- I was nadling you.

I don't know why.

I'll have to check my Freud.

I'll always figure it out later.

Have a good drink.

- Yes, thanks.

Whiskey straight.

[dramatic music]

- I only vaguely remember

leaving the bar that evening

and taking the

elevator to the 32nd floor.

They tell me I carried on a conversation

in the elevator operator.

But if I did, I can't remember what about

or even who the man was.

I was pretty wobbly on my feet

when I stepped out of the elevator into

small's inception room.

Ouch!

I didn't see that chair.

[dramatic music]

Hey, small.

Come on, open up.

It's me, Andrews.

I know now that what

I was doing was wrong.

It could easily be interpreted as theft.

But I put this out of my mind.

Here was a chance to break loose,

be free of small forever.

I could have sung I was so happy.

Now nothing, nothing at

all could stand in my way.

[dramatic music]

All right, I must have done it.

But I was drunk and I don't remember.

Forget it.

You know, everybody does silly things

when they get tanked up.

[chuckles]

You know, I'll bet you've done a few

silly things yourself.

Sure, I bounce rocks off my mother.

Why all the fuss?

I'll sign another contract with small

and then everything will be fixed up.

Look, Andrews, you're an educated man,

so you probably know your rights.

You don't have to talk to me.

But I want to talk.

Where shouldn't I talk?

Well, maybe I don't look it, but I've

been through school, too,

so give me a little credit.

I'm not here to pinch

anybody for tearing up papers.

I'm booking you on suspicion of murder.

Murder?

That's right.

With an M.

Well, no.

Don't waste your talent on me, my friend.

Save your play acting for the jury.

Me, I'm a rotten audience

before I've had my coffee.

Who was it?

Your publisher, Henry Small, was found,

and you know what condition.

Early this morning in his office.

Hurry up. We haven't got all day.

You think I did it?

Well, you must be out of your mind.

I saw Small yesterday.

Sure, but it was before 6 o'clock.

I've got witnesses.

Unofficially, I'd suggest

that you shut your mouth

and you see a lawyer, my friend.

But that's your business.

Tell me if I'd take what you wanted.

Uh...

What time was he killed?

Small was in no condition to tell me.

You ready? Let's go.

Look, Anders, I'm trying

to give you every break.

Now, this morning I told

you to keep your mouth shut.

But that was this morning.

I wasn't assigned to the case then.

I'm on it now, and I want to clean it up

as quick as possible.

I didn't do it.

You didn't do it. You didn't do it.

I've got enough to

rate a conviction already.

The elevator man took

you up to the 32nd floor

at about the time the medical examiner

said that Small was killed.

You were telling all the 34th Street

about knocking off a man

in a locked and bolted room.

We find you with a stolen

contract in your possession.

We've got the motive. We've got enough

direct evidence to clinch the case.

All you haven't got is a confession.

A man's not permitted to plead guilty to

a capital offense in this state,

so confession doesn't mean much.

I don't want your confession.

All I want to know is how you did it.

I'll admit we were off a tree on that.

It doesn't seem possible.

It is impossible.

Nobody could murder a man, bolt the door

on the inside, and get away.

There's no way out of

that room but the door.

How'd you work it, Andrews?

I used vanishing cream.

Don't get fresh. I don't

want to lose my temper.

Maybe you think I'm an old man, but don't

let the gray hairs fool you.

Sorry.

You're going to write some kind of story

about a murder

committed in just such a manner.

That's right.

And you told the story you claim to one

Evelyn Green, a

receptionist who worked for small.

Yeah.

Well, forgetting small for a minute, how

are you going to solve

the murder in your book?

Now, look, I've told you over a hundred

times I can't remember,

especially with this hangover.

The whole afternoon

and evenings are blank.

Look, why don't you bring the girl in and

ask her? Maybe she can tell you.

But the chances are my

solution won't help you.

As you know, I wasn't exactly sober.

You weren't too drunk to steal that

contract and tear it up, Andrews.

I'm getting sick of this.

For the last time, how are you going to

commit the murder in the book?

Okay, that does it. If you're

innocent, you'd want to help.

Now I'm going to sweat out the case and

slap you into the chair.

I don't remember and I don't.

Why don't you ask the girl?

The girl hasn't shown up yet, that's why.

But we've got a general alarm on for her.

She didn't come to work and

she hasn't been home either.

Or she may turn up in the morgue, which

wouldn't surprise me because you were

with her last night.

But if she's still alive, we'll get her.

And when we do, we'll have all we need.

You want to reconsider?

There's nothing to reconsider.

At 7.35, arriving at 7.50, we contacted

the janitor and were

taken up to the 32nd floor.

The outer office door had already been

opened by the janitor.

The door to the

private office was locked.

We asked the janitor to open it with a

passkey and none of them fit.

This took about 10 minutes.

Then he remembered that small had changed

the lock some months before.

We noticed through the crack that the

door was bolted from the inside.

Then we broke in.

I want an inventory of everything in this

office and the one outside

by morning, I understand.

Yes, sir.

There's a guy out there that says his

name is Harrison. What's to see?

Okay, Haggard.

Oh, hello.

The cops must really love to

wreck a place. Holy Toledo.

Look what happened to

Smalls' pretty office.

You don't hear him complaining, do you?

How are you, Lloyd?

Wet and consequently in a foul mood, but

I wanted to talk to you,

sir. I came up to see you.

Glad you did. This is right in your line.

The murder in the locked room.

But frankly, I'm stuck. I

just can't figure it out.

That's because you carry a bad threat.

Police officers have no imagination.

They are plotters.

All the amateurs can solve a crime.

You'd have enough mysteries to know that.

There doesn't seem to

be any answer to it.

Small didn't commit

suicide, then I'm sure of it.

But if he was murdered, how did the door

get bolted on the inside?

You mean to say the door

was bolted on the inside?

It reminds me of what?

What story?

What story?

Story?

You mean the one that Andrews was trying

to sell small on all about it?

But Andrews isn't talking.

I tried to sweat it out of him, but that

guy pumps ice water.

But the chase says he had last night.

I suppose in your usual impulsive manner

you arrested Andrews.

It's a wrong man, Fred.

Andrews is not the type to commit

homicide. No matter how strong the

provocation might be.

You and yours theories.

No man's a type that can admit homicide

until he catches some guy with long

sideburns smiling at his froth.

He sees his name written

on a fat wheel or something.

Andrews is guilty, all right.

Well, I think you never get a conviction

unless you can

demonstrate how the thing was done.

I say, Fred, I have an idea.

Andrews is a brilliant

writer and artist and sensitive.

If you bully him,

he'll close up like a clam.

Why don't you turn

him loose in my custody?

Nothing, don't worry.

Well, he won't try to escape, and if he

does, he won't get far.

Maybe I can dig out the

information you are after.

How are I booking?

I'm unbooking.

I wouldn't consider it.

Fred, you will hopefully still be telling

the grand jury that

Andrews killed small and...

and walked afternoon,

shall I, through the...

Well, it's a lot better

than my suite in the tombs.

How is it?

Well, thank you.

Fortunately, they don't show, but it's

built entirely of mutilated bodies,

hundreds and hundreds of them.

Very profitable, those

literally murders of mine.

Sit down, I'll get you a drink.

Nothing to drink, thanks.

After last night, I'm

on the wagon for life.

Oh, when did I hear his line before?

Oh, I know.

I said it three, four hundred times.

I hope you don't mind if I have.

No, not so.

Thanks.

Why are you doing all

this for me, Mr. Harrison?

We only met for a few minutes yesterday,

and, well, after all, I might be guilty.

Yes, you might be.

But frankly, I don't care.

Small was the worst kind of a thing, and

a pair of sheets in his bag.

Well, the saying goes,

"On him, it looks good."

But you were wrong about our meeting.

We met long before.

Yes.

In the pages of your books.

Oh.

I read every one of them several times.

Well, first, I want to help you, Jeff,

but we've got to move fast before

Applegate can pin this murderer on you.

The police simply hate unsolved crimes.

Maybe it's bad publicity.

Or maybe because they

frequently cut them their jobs.

And I'm their unemployment insurer, huh?

Yes.

So it's him.

May I remember everything about the story

I was going to write for the

important part, the solution?

That is, if there was a solution, of

course I may have just imagined that I

had it logically solved.

Almost probably the case.

Yes, and the influence of alcohol, the

most impossible thing, seems impossible.

Yeah.

If only the police would

find that girl, Evelyn Green.

Are you sure you told it to her?

Yes, I'm dead sure.

As I recall, it was a rather simple

matter for the

murderer to commit the crime

and then leave the room with the door

bolted on the inside.

It must have been the invisible man.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, they will surely pick up this green

girl. Don't worry. Then we'll know.

The bartender, the one that works in the

cocktail lounge in the building.

I think I told the solution to him, too.

Well, I'm not sure.

It seems he broadcasted the

solution to everybody himself.

Only everybody seems to have as bad

memories as you have.

That night after Harrison

left me, I couldn't sleep.

Possibly it was the heat which the rain

had done no more than intensively.

In which it drained a person's vitality

like 10,000 bloodthirsty dwarves.

Or maybe it was because I was only then

beginning to realize that I

wasn't free, as I thought.

But as much a prisoner of Lieutenant

Applegate as if I was

locked in the tombs.

Suddenly it struck me that

there was no time to lose.

But even its false

freedom was ticking away.

It's where I'd be

rearrested in the morning.

Applegate wasn't one to

wait long for anything.

I knew I would have to clear myself

quickly or find myself where he

threatened he'd put me.

In the electric chair.

My watch was unavailable, so I had no

idea what time it was.

But I knew it must be very late.

Open up!

Come on, open up. I've

got to ask you something.

What do you want? You can't come in. The

building's closed tonight.

Come back in the morning.

That'll be two minutes.

Wait a minute. You can't come in. I've

got to find that bartender.

Wait. Were you supposed to be in jail?

What are you doing here?

He's about 5'7, Bawful.

You know the one I mean?

Now, you twister, I

had to tell the truth.

I didn't want to get you or anyone else in trouble, but the cops came in.

Tell a mind about that. I want to find that bartender. I'm not going to get you. You know his phone number?

No, he hadn't got a phone.

Where does he live?

Well, I know the house,

but I forgot the number.

Take me there.

Impossible. I'm on duty.

Now, look, Miss. Oh, okay. Okay, Mr. I take you to him. But wait till I get in the court. Oh, hurry up. Come on, hurry up.

What do you want with Mike?

I wouldn't want nothing to happen to him.

No, sir, not to him I wouldn't.

Wait, he's just like a brother.

Nothing's going to happen to him.

I just want to ask him something. At this time of the night,

what do you want to ask him?

I want to find out how to

unbold a door from the outside.

Come on.

Come on, wake up.

Okay, come on. [Music]

Don't move.

I'm turning you over to the cops.

I had a feeling you were

going to pump off poor Mike.

You're crazy.

He was dead when we came in.

You know, I couldn't have done it.

I don't know nothing of the kind.

You can't fool me.

I'm no dummy, no sir, I'm no dummy.

You killed him, you dirty murderer.

Then you went to get me

so you could have an alibi.

Help! Help!

Police! Police!

[Music]

I had only tried to help myself, but now

things were a million times worse.

Inside of 15 minutes, every one of New

York's 20,000 policemen would be scouring

the city for me with orders to shoot.

What a wonderful morning.

I sure enough to give it time.

I had to fight to bear the pain.

But more than that, I had to

fight to keep from fainting.

Each second I felt myself growing weaker.

[Music]

My shoulder's throbbing.

A 45 caliber toothache.

[Music]

I could stand the pain, could just get my

breath and have a smoke.

But it was no dice.

If that leg of the law

caught the flicker of that match,

Applegate would be smiling at

me again in the wrong places.

[Music]

It's me, Jeff, Everlight.

We've got to get out of here.

I've been trying to find you.

As soon as I read the papers, I knew

they'd arrest you and

come looking for me.

So I hurried over here.

Then they put him

outside and I was stuck.

I've been here for hours.

Oh, Jeff. Jeff, why don't you do it?

Small is no good, but did you have to ruin your life? You've got so much to live for.

Oh, never mind.

It's too late to think about that now.

I've got some money, not much, but enough

to get us to Canada.

Oh, you're hurt.

Look, I told you a story last night about

a murder in a bolted room.

How is it done? How did murderer get out

of room, bolted from inside?

You've got to remember.

[Music]

I've got to know about that story.

No, don't talk. You'll hear us.

What about that story?

I don't know what you told me about.

You told me a story I can't remember.

We left a lot now.

We better start thinking

about how to get out of here.

You mean you don't remember the story

about the murdered

guy in the bolted room?

You were a little bit tight.

What's your game, Goldilocks?

What do you mean?

Well, look, I'm a guy who

forgets things when he's drunk.

I've left more things than bars, from

overcoats to dames I brought in.

But if I forget everything else about

last night, I'll remember one thing.

I told you that story.

What are you doing here anyway?

I'm a murderer.

You've already tried and convicted me.

Why did you come here?

[Music]

That should answer your question.

Jeff.

I've got your paint now.

It's as obvious as those

tight dresses you wear.

The paint you smear in your face, and the

perfume you sprinkle here and there to

make you smell good.

You came here tonight because as long as

there was a guy named Andrews in the

world, he wouldn't be safe.

I told you last night how to commit the

perfect crime and you

went out and committed it.

Oh, don't look so innocent.

You can drop that expression number two.

Here, and I remember something else.

You came in the bar

last night, you were upset.

Your dress was torn.

Small and as usual, subtle

men have been playing Romeo.

I don't know what went on up there, but

whatever did, you hated him.

The only reason you didn't kill him then

was your fear of being caught.

But you lost that fear when

I explained my story to you.

So you went back upstairs and

tickled him with those shears.

That's not true, Jeff.

Well, as far as you were

concerned, it was in the bank.

Oh, sure.

The drunk had given you a foolproof idea

of getting away with a murder which he'd

forget all about in the morning.

And you didn't count on it pinning the

crime on me, did you?

What did you?

Well, it doesn't matter now.

You're through.

I don't think you can

soften me up with those tears.

You made the mistake of thinking you

could hook me without

my wriggling a little.

It's not true, Jeff.

Not a word is true.

Why do you think I risked coming here?

You came because you love me.

Sure.

Listen, you don't understand.

You got the wrong chump.

Fire rims hurt my ears.

And when the temperature is

up, I drink a bottle of beer.

And if I want poetry,

I read Walt Whitman.

I came here because I

knew you were in trouble.

Oh, get the girl, Scout.

Because as soon as I read the papers, I

knew you'd kill Floh.

You don't have to lie to me, Jeff.

Well, I've been washed behind your ears.

I'm gonna get out of here.

There's a lot of things I've got to find

out before the cops catch up to me again.

This coat has blood on it.

Haven't you got another?

Yes, in there.

[somber music]

[somber music]

Do you really think I killed Floh?

[somber music]

Yes.

[somber music]

Okay, O'Reilly, I'm here really--

Right.

[somber music]

Hey, Charlie, you forgot your coat.

[somber music]

Calling all cars.

Calling all cars.

Be on the lookout for Jeffrey Andrews.

Murder suspect.

Last seen facility, Greenwich Avenue.

Maybe accompanied by

blonde woman companions.

Hike five feet, ten inches.

Weight 165 pounds.

Dark bear, dark eyes.

He may be armed.

[somber music]

Jeff, what are we going to do?

I don't know.

We'll never get out of New York.

They'll be watching every

bus and railroad station.

Only by this time, they'll have our names

and descriptions

teletyped all over the ramp.

We can't stay here.

Come on, let's take a check and get out.

Sure.

[chuckles]

I'm afraid this will have to be on you.

It's all right.

Lucky for us, yesterday was payday.

I bet almost $60.

Anything the matter?

What did you do, rob Smalls' body or was

it the bartender you ruled?

Well, why the innocent stare?

You know where you dropped

the mate to this earring?

In a certain

brownstone house off 9th Avenue.

You have a certain body,

whose name I don't know.

What on earth are you talking about?

Oh, you don't know, huh?

I'll bet you don't.

I've got to admit, you

almost had me fooled.

Sure.

I'm a sucker for those big brown eyes.

But I've got eyes, too.

And what I saw next to that bartender's

corpse was no mirage.

Jeff, do you mean

you've been another murder?

Yeah, you're developing a bad habit.

Don't kink yet.

I didn't kill anybody.

Oh, sure.

Sure, a smaller meant

bartender died of old age.

Come on.

You found my earring somewhere?

Just where you dropped it.

You should be more careful.

But, Jeff, I tell you, I left that

earring in the office.

I don't know how it got to

wherever you say you saw it.

That's something for

the police to find out.

I'm taking you down there right now.

But, Jeff, I swear to

you, I didn't do it.

You just get caught

if you try to train me.

You've got all kinds

of evidence against you.

You go to the chair.

What do I have to do,

drag you by the hair?

Police headquarters, Sunner Street.

[sirens]

[sirens]

You're a no good little tramp.

You'd kill a man as

soon as you look at him.

I hope I never lay eyes on you again.

But I'm not going to turn you in.

Oh, Jeff.

Now cut that stuff. I'm

not going to change my mind.

I'm getting out of here.

If you smudge, you'll take that $60

and buy the longest strip

of railroad ticket you can.

Jeff, you do like me.

This proves that if you

didn't, you'd turn me in.

The only thing this proves

is that I'm slightly moronic.

That'll be 85 cents, Mac.

You've got a couple of hours, that's all.

When you're on your own, I wish you luck.

What am I doing?

You've got all the money.

Holy.

What is this?

You see this? Do you know what it means?

Well, I don't understand.

It means I told small my

story, solution and all.

You never would have part of a discount

on money if I hadn't.

Yes, yes, I see. And it also means...

That there was one other

person I told the solution to.

Sure, there was someone else in the

office when I told it.

Lloyd Harrison.

Hey, the little lady won silver dollar.

Drive ahead to Park Avenue and 81st.

Right.

We've got to hurry.

Unless I'm out of my mind, that's the guy

who killed Cock Robin.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

And take your hand out of that drawer.

I was only fumbling for my glasses.

If I was to be wrong, I want the

satisfaction of seeing how it's done.

Scared me, Jeff.

Holy Toledo. What are

you doing with this pistol?

Oh, and isn't this... in his green?

You're going down to headquarters and

tell them exactly how you killed Small.

I'm a double. I'm in a hurry.

When I'm in a hurry, I forget my manners.

I do things I regret later,

like kicking in people's teeth.

Beautiful performance, Mr. Harrison.

You're my friend now. Going to help me,

all for the sake of art.

You knew perfectly well how that crime

was committed in my story.

You were in Small's office

when I told it I can prove it.

You don't have to prove it. I was there.

I heard the solution to it,

and it's pretty clever to...

Thank you.

You're welcome.

You're about my killing Small.

However, literally, he

may have deserved it.

Ervalon, get Center Street on the phone.

That's for Lieutenant Applegate.

Don't do it, Mrs. Green.

I think you better wait and

listen to what I have to say.

Say that for Applegate.

Information? Police

headquarters, please. Center Street.

Jeff, I told you what

I think of your work.

I meant every word of it.

Forget it, Harrison.

With any other writing,

your aim might be good.

Praise his books and he'll

watch you murder his mother.

But after ten years on donuts and coffee,

my ego is calloused.

Yes, thank you. I've got it.

To be great pity if you lend it to the

elected chair like a common criminal.

I'm terrified, because you

see, you killed Small, Jeff.

This is a crime. You don't believe me.

I know what I'm talking about. I hope

you'll never find out.

I never be forced to tell you this.

Because it might affect your work.

That's why I lied. I pretended not to

know how the thing was done.

Now I must tell you.

For your own sake, if I don't, you run

straight back in Applegate's net.

Hello, police headquarters.

Homicide, detail, please.

As you know, you forget things.

If you drink too much,

that's fairly common.

I met this frequently in

my studies of dipsomaniacs.

Homicide? Is Lieutenant Applegate there?

Yes, I know what time it is.

Take yourself.

Now, you even forgot the perfectly simple

solution of the mystery.

Small became so enthusiastic about it, or

at least you claim you forgot it.

What do you mean by that?

I'll get to this later.

First, will you grant me that your memory

fails when you are under

the influence of Fleecker?

So what?

So simply this. Why couldn't you have

rammed those shears

into Small last night?

Jeff, I am fighting for

you. I'm trying to help.

But consult a preponderance

of evidence that says you did.

You were the only one who was taken up to

the thirty-second floor last night.

The elevator operator testified that you

were so drunk, you could hardly walk.

Everything points to this.

You enter, call out with Small about your

contract, kill him, and tore it up.

You can't deny having their

pieces in your possession.

Will you please find out if he's there or

not? It's very important.

It's about the Andrews case.

You killed him precisely the way you

planned to kill the victim in your book.

It wasn't premeditated. It just happened

to be in the back of your mind.

Look, Jeff, you are a psychological

novelist of some distinction.

There is nothing, utterly nothing, I

could teach you of the

workings of a human mind,

conscious or subconscious.

It won't work, Harrison.

You've got to get the ugly

facts into the light, the truth.

It'll be easier,

Jeff. Think for a moment.

You claim you forgot the solution of your

story. Is this really the case?

My contention is that you only claim you

forgot because your conscious mind

cannot bear what your subconscious mind

knows only too well.

You not only remember how the thing could

be done, but how it was done.

I'll prove it, but first put that gun

down. We don't want it to go off. Do it.

Relax, Jeff. You've got to trust me.

You've got to cooperate.

Don't be a mental coward. Empty yourself

of the thing you

attempt to bury in your mind.

Relax. Tell us how were you going to

solve the crime in your story?

What did the murderer do

after he struck his victim down?

I don't know.

Yes, you do.

He goes to the door.

Of course. Then what?

He tries the bolt.

And?

He winds a piece of string

around the knob on the bolt.

He opens the door and goes out, holding

on to both ends of the string.

Finally?

He pulls the string and bolts the door.

He then releases one end of the string

and pulls the other to

the crack in the door.

You see, Jeff, you never

really forget it for one instant.

You only wanted to forget

to blot it out of your mind.

You had to do this, or admit to yourself

that you killed small.

You've got to get away, Jeff.

Applegate is going to pin this crime on

someone, and that

someone is going to be you.

Of course, I could hire a clever attorney and get you off with the plea of temporary insanity,

but that wouldn't do you much good.

Why not leave the country?

Money can get you out, and

money is what I am made of.

I can let you have whatever you want.

But that will be my contribution to art,

the only contribution I

am ever likely to make.

Why not?

And I'll go with you if you let me.

You've got to keep on

writing great things.

Your continued writing
is more important than your own.

Your continued writing is more important

than all the smalls, apple gates,

and all the trivial

little crimes in the world.

I throw the police off the trail.

I befuddle them with red hairings.

I think I can do it easily, at least for

a day or two, and by that time,

by that time, I should have all three of

you locked up as needed, you please.

I'm surprised at you, Lloyd.

Just make sure an

accessory after the fact.

Anything in a betting

is suspected, Colonel.

I am ashamed of you, Fred.

After all I've tried to

teach, your police were.

You teach me?

Nothing on Andrews, nothing but

circumstantial evidence.

How little little,

you'll be loved out of court.

Why don't you save

yourself a lot of embarrassment?

Andrews, I'm placing you under arrest on

suspicion of murder.

It's my duty to warn you that anything

you say may be used against you.

The sun is almost up.

Fred, why don't you let

the fellow get some sleep?

He needs it badly.

I get your special

officer's card yesterday.

In a day, you're trying to tell me how to

run the homicide squad.

I thought you said the whole case you

have wrapped up in a cellophane bag.

What's the matter, Freddy?

You afraid the

cellophane bag won't hold water?

Don't outsmart yourself.

I could hold you for

advising a man to escape.

I never thought you'd

try to circumvent the law.

I've been circumventing the law for

years, usually in the first chapter.

I'd like to know what I'm going to trade

to the jury for a conviction.

Just Andrews' confession, that's all.

What confession?

It's a minor detail.

You want to electrocute a man just

because he thinks I've a plot.

He's a writer.

Is he straight?

Yes, I know. It's an amazing coincidence.

It just so happens it's small as murder.

It isn't an exact parallel.

I was drunk. I may have told

the story to a lot of people.

And a lot of people didn't like small.

I think Andrews ought to sue

the murderer for plagiarism.

You literary lads are wasting your time.

I'll write the last chapter in court.

I was awfully drunk, if I

can only remember for sure.

Don't let it through you, Jeff.

Take it easy.

Take it easy. What do you mean easy?

I'm sick. I'm tired.

How much kicking around can a man stand?

In a few minutes I'm

going to call my lawyer.

Don't worry. The story you told me

doesn't prove anything.

Oh, but it does. It'll prove anything

they want to make of it.

How do I know?

I was out, paralyzed.

Maybe I did kill small.

It was all a blank.

Maybe I did.

No, maybe you did.

All right, so I killed him.

Jeff, shut up. You don't

know what you're saying.

I know very well what I'm saying.

I killed small just like I told Harrison.

That's the story you cops want.

That's a confession, Lieutenant.

A real 2,300 volt confession.

Have your stooge take it down.

Take him out and let him sleep it off.

Andrews, just so you'll have a good sleep

with nothing more on your conscience,

why don't you admit that

you killed that bartender too?

After I get your steege.

Why don't you leave him alone?

You've got your

signals mixed, Lieutenant.

I didn't kill that bartender.

No.

No, and get this. I'm

all out of proportion.

That means I don't frame very well.

Listen, Andrews.

It's almost five o'clock in the morning.

I've been chasing you all over New York,

picking up bodies you left behind.

I may have killed small. I

was drunk and I don't remember.

I guess I did it all right.

But the bartender was dead when I got

there and I wasn't drinking this time.

I know I didn't kill him.

All the evidence, Mary.

All the evidence you've dreamed up, yes.

Well, if you didn't do it, she did.

You're a little careless with your

earrings, aren't you, Miss Green?

And don't tell me it isn't yours because

we have the mate to it.

Picked it up in your desk.

Why should I have killed him?

Might have been this way.

Your boyfriend here told the late

bartender the secret of

walking through a bolted door.

So to protect him, you felt

you had to kill the bartender.

Wait a minute.

You say you found her

earring in a desk in the office?

Right.

And the other beside

the bartender's body?

Right.

Does it match this?

They match.

It's a minute.

You found one earring in my desk and the

other beside the bartender's body?

Right.

Well, I don't have three ears.

Applegate, homicide.

Have Mac take a look for that earring we

found in Small's office.

Right away.

I'll hold on.

It's gold. It's fancy.

What's that?

Thanks.

It's missing.

Oh, I knew it.

The earring you found in my office was

the same one that was

found by the bartender.

Right.

Come to think of it, Lloyd, you're the

only person aside from my own men who was

anywhere near that earring.

Oh, no. Not that friend.

What would I do with one earring?

You're the authority on red herrings.

You stab the bartender, plant the

earring, and throw suspicion on either

the Andrews ear or the girl.

Perfect. Who done it? Literature.

Sure, but you forget that Mike makes the best martinis in town.

I wouldn't kill a guy like that.

The most important thing is why should

you have wanted to kill Small?

Everybody wanted to kill Small.

I was one of his few friends.

Just a minute, Mr. Harrison.

What about that trouble

you were having with him?

Why, Mr. Green?

What part of that flight is

understanding over your contract?

Well, I'm small and I

misunderstood each other.

One and a half for ten years.

I'm not a man. One and a half for ten years.

What is this anyway?

The contract is still in effect.

Now that the contract's disappeared, this

is a list of the

documents taken from Small safe.

There's no mention of your contract.

Holy Toledo, that tops everything.

You are accusing me of murdering two

people for no apparent reason

and stealing an idea

from a fellow author.

Applegate.

I ain't disgusted.

Yes, you did.

You killed poor Mike.

He was my best friend.

He was a good man and you killed him.

Who is this character?

Mike told me about that night in the bar

so I'll do no good for you to like.

Fantastic.

At first, I thought he did it.

But I remembered what Mike told me.

The night Mr. Small was murdered, you

were down in the bar.

You ordered a drink and

then you left the table.

Mike thought you'd gone to wash your

hands, but you went to the fire stairs

and climbed 32 floors.

He saw you when you came

back, coming out of the fire exit.

Man is crazy here to be restrained.

Mike was afraid.

He came and told me,

but me, I'm not afraid.

All right.

Go ahead.

All right.

Stay where you are, Fred.

I didn't think it would

work out this way, but

unfortunately you

cannot have it all the time.

I intend to leave this office as calmly

as I entered, but

before I go I take that gun.

Not you, Fred.

Yes, if you please.

Uh-uh.

By the barrel, please.

That's far enough.

Toss it to me.

Chief, look out!

Get the doctor.

Don't be sorry, Fred.

Line of duty and all that sort of thing.

Take it easy, Lord.

Killing small, I did

all the writers a favor.

It's public approval.

You didn't kill him

just over a contract, Lord.

Do you want to tell me?

Sure.

Because he threatened to

expose me to the thief I am.

What did you steal?

It's not a man's brains.

I... I used a ghost writer.

Started with a ghost writer, just like

starting with drugs.

You can't quit.

Easy, fellas, easy.

That's just it.

It was too easy.

I had my name engraved

on an other man's pen.

If I had been exposed, I understand.

You'd lose your reputation.

No other publisher would have had you.

Reputation.

It would have meant to move from the

penthouse to the cellar like jazz.

How did the bar tend

to fit into it, Lloyd?

I didn't want to kill him.

I had to.

Now I'm going to die of a gunshot.

In my books, I killed thousands of people

in thousands of interesting ways.

Strange acids.

Arrows dipped in poison, in

snake pies, and now a gunshot.

Holy dole, Lloyd.

Get me the morgue.

Come on, I'm going to take you home.

But you don't know where I live.

My watch was still

unavailable, so I didn't know.

Well, I didn't care what time it was.

But the sun was coming up, and it looked

like it would turn out

to be another hot day.

[Music]