All language subtitles for Dangerous.Money.1946.720p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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(dramatic orchestral music)

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(mysterious orchestral music)

(foghorn blares)

(foghorn blares)

(door opens)

(foghorn blares)

(both groan)
- I'm sorry, sir.

(foghorn blares)

(door opens)

- You, uh, wish speak with me?

- Yes, Mr. Chan.

I'm sorry to bring you out
on such a beastly night.

- Problems rarely wait
for clearing weather.

- That's exactly why I need your help.

I'm under strict orders
to remain undercover,

but ever since I came aboard the ship...

(foghorn blares)

- Yes?

- Since I've been aboard,

two attempts have been made to kill me.

- You work for government?

- I'm Scott Pearson, sir,

agent for the United
States Treasury Department.

- Oh, one of its most
important agents, I should say.

Charmed to meet you, Mr. Pearson.

- Thank you, Mr. Chan.

I've been assigned to
investigate this hot money

that's appeared among the islands.

- Hot money?

- Yes, it's loot from the Philippines,

art treasures worth millions
and currency in large bills.

Someone aboard has discovered
my purpose and is trying to...

(foghorn blares)

- (grumbles) Sorry.

Oh, Mr. Chan!

Say, it's a regular pea-souper, ain't it?

Understand the show's
starting in the salon.

Not gonna miss it, are ya?

- [Charlie] I expect show will

be more entertaining than fog.

- Well, see you inside.

- Yes.

(metal clanging)

(metal crashing)

- That was meant for me, Mr. Chan.

- Perhaps, could have been accident.

(dramatic orchestral music)

You were right.

This rope has been cut.

- We better go to my cabin.

- No, no better opportunity
than during show

to observe all persons onboard.

Come with me.

- Whatever you say, Mr. Chan.

(foghorn blaring)

(people socializing)

(knife thuds)
- Ooh!

(knife thuds)

Phew!

(audience applauding)

- I'm telling you, we was
on Route 66 one night,

and the fog was so thick, you couldn't

see your hand that far before you.

What's wrong?

Who are you spying on now?

- Oh, I wasn't spying.

- Well, what are you peepin' in there for?

- Oh, I was looking for Pop.

I thought he might be inside.

- Oh, that's different.

(audience applauding)

- Ladies and gentlemen,
the show about to start is

a time-honored ritual on all
ships crossing the equator.

We cross the line tonight.

When the curtain goes up, we shall

all be in King Neptune's court.

Now, several neophytes who have never

crossed the equator before
are in the audience.

They'll be tried before
this great tribunal,

this high marine authority,
King Neptune himself.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Deep down at the bottom of the azure seas,

Davy Jones's Locker
rests in mud and slime,

but it is always open to receive
those whom Neptune sends.

No one knows what Neptune will say or do.

(knife thuds)
(Scott gasps)

(people chattering)

- This is Brace, the purser.

Get me the Captain, quick.

- A knife in his back, where's
Dr. Whipple, the missionary?

- [Brace] Cap'n, can you come
down to the salon right away?

Quick.

- Dr. Martin, maybe you can help.

- George, who is he?

- Trader, corporate trader, I think.

- I'm a doctor of
science, not of medicine.

- Man is dead.

- Did you see what I saw?

- Yes, I saw what you've seen.

Wait a minute, where are you going?

- I'm going in to help Pop.

A man's been killed!

- That's what I mean.

- What do you mean, that's what I mean?

- Just what I said.

I don't wanna be hanging
around no one that's dead.

- Well, you stay here.

I'm gonna help Pop.

(foghorn blares)
- Oh, wait for me.

I'm goin' with you.

- Pardon me.

(Cynthia gasps)

Mr. Brace, call the doctor.

- I've already called him, sir.

He's on his way.

- Mr. Chan, will you take charge?

- Yes, Captain, first suggest

you allow no one to leave salon.

- No one can leave salon
until Mr. Chan releases you.

Mr. Brace, you'll take charge.

- Very well, sir.

- Come with me, Captain.

Assistants will remain here
and keep vigilant eye open.

- Okay, Pop.

(foghorn blares)

- Room has been ransacked, Captain.

Most unfortunate, Scott
Pearson's papers already gone.

- But his portfolio is in my safe.

He gave it to me yesterday.

- Oh, that is good.

You had his confidence then?

- To a certain extent, yes.

I had instructions not
to reveal his identity.

- Hmm, when did he first
decide to speak to me?

- Only this evening, he expected

to do most of his work in Samoa.

It was only after we left
Honolulu that he became worried.

- Did you know about this
United States currency,

this hot money supposed to
be cheap commodity on market?

- Yes, I heard a lot of
talk among the islands.

His portfolio is bound to
have all the information.

Mr. Chan, you should take over his work.

- Very sorry, but previous
commitments in Sydney, Australia

would prevent my remaining
in Samoa for a long time.

However, I shall carry on
investigation of his murder.

We will question people in salon at once.

Come with me.

- I took the liberty of
removing the body, Mr. Chan.

The ladies, uh, here is the murder weapon.

- Thank you.

You are sure no one left salon?

- No one except the two men of the crew

who carried out the body.

- Shall we go?

- Sorry.

- [Charlie] Excuse, please,

no one is permitted to leave salon.

(people socializing)

- Excuse me.

But, sir, my wife and I are

accredited members of The London Society.

Surely you wouldn't wish
to embarrass us further.

- You had left seats when
unfortunate gentleman was killed.

- Oh, this is preposterous!

To imagine that we could
learn to throw knives!

- Well, it's a cinch this guy

who got himself killed wasn't no trader.

Why, I've been on these islands for years.

- You have knowledge, Mr. Burke?

- Why, sure, there's a
dozen people on this boat

could've thrown a knife like that.

I could have tossed it myself.

- So?

- I said I could have
tossed it, but I didn't.

My firm will vouch for me, Mr. Chan,

cotton goods, All-American Cotton Mills.

I'm introducing cotton
shirts to the Polynesians.

There's millions in it.

And say, I figure that
knife must have been thrown.

- I would appreciate enlightenment.

- Why, sure, somebody in
the crew tossed that one.

You look for a Kanak or a Melanesian.

That's your man.

- Where are you bound now, Mr. Burke?

- Samoa, my first stop.

- Mr. Chan, Dr. and Mrs. Martin

are nervous and upset already.

Surely their credentials are enough.

Dr. Martin's a member

of the International
Society of Ichthyologists.

I've been his assistant for two years.

- Harold, I can speak for myself.

If Mr. Chan is suspicious of us,

we shall gladly stay
for the, uh, grilling.

- No suspicions, investigation
too young as yet.

Your destination is Samoa, Professor?

- Correct, I established an
ichthyological museum there

six years ago, but the war came along

and my work was interrupted, but I said

I would return, and I'm returning.

- Mr. Chan, that's all true.

I've lived in Pago all my life.

- Your business is?

- I'm a trader, just back
from Honolulu, buying trip.

- You do not travel alone, Mr. Erickson?

- My wife's in a stateroom,
ill of a headache.

- Mr. Chan, I gave Mrs. Erickson
a pill for her headache.

- Before or during show, Doctor?

- Just when it started.

- Lady require any further ministrations

which prevented you from
witnessing show tonight?

- I've been a ship's doctor
for 25 years, Mr. Chan.

I've seen many such shows.

After attending Mrs.
Erickson, I went to my cabin.

There were no other calls until this one.

- Mr. Erickson, your wife's
still too ill to join us here?

- Tao.

What's gone wrong, Tao?

- It's all right, honey,
doesn't concern us.

- You are feeling better, Mrs. Erickson?

- A little, steward told
me something had happened.

I thought I'd better be near Tao.

- Quite right, there is old
saying, "Good wife's place

"should be at mate's
elbow in time of trouble."

Are any other passengers for Samoa?

- Mr. Chan, I am for Samoa.

- Oh, yes, Miss Simmons.

May I ask your business?

- I'm going to Apia, the
Robert Louis Stevenson shrine.

- Tourist?

- Well, yes, I suppose so.

- May I vouch for Miss Simmons, sir?

- Mr. Brace has sailed with me twice,

purser, highly reputable, reliable.

- Thank you, Captain.

If you'll allow me, Mr. Chan,
I can vouch for Miss Simmons.

- Would appreciate private conversation

with both of you sometime tomorrow.

No cause for alarm, I may question

all Samoa passengers in private.

Mr. Kirk, please, one
moment before you go.

- Yes, Mr. Chan?

- Your destination is Samoa?

- No, sir, I'm bound for
Suva, Wellington, Sydney.

Change ships at Suva.

- Show business?

- Right, sir.

- About Miss Simmons, she's
staying at my place at Pago,

two weeks' vacation with
us, booked from Honolulu.

- Mr. Erickson and I would be glad

to vouch for her, Mr. Chan.

- No suspicion, merely routine inquiry.

- I always say, watch these quiet ones.

By jiminy, you never know who'll

toss a knife into you these days.

But leave it to a big
detective to figure fast.

Like I always say, you pick
the most innocent-looking one,

you got the killer, and believe me,

a dame can hide a knife
like nobody's business.

- Are you referring to Miss Simmons, sir?

- When a shoe fits, I
always say put it on.

- Burke, you'll apologize for that.

- Don't, George, please.

Don't make a scene.

- Mr. Brace, remember your position.

- I'm sorry, sir.

- Please, there will be no
more questions for tonight.

Everyone may leave salon.

All go, go.

No further opportunity for show tonight.

Samoa passengers all seem very congenial.

Each one have very good excuse for other.

- Lots of vouching going on, all right.

(foghorn blaring)

- Well, you've had nothing
to eat all morning.

It's no good, you know.

- Oh, George, I'm too worried to eat.

The whole thing's turned into a nightmare.

And besides, I've caused
you so much trouble.

Oh, I'd like to chuck the whole thing.

- Now listen, young lady.

We're in this thing
together and we're gonna

see it through together, remember?

Remember our promise?

Oh, in a matter of days,
hours, it'll all be finished.

- Yes, but George, I'm so afraid

of what Mr. Chan might find out about us.

- That's exactly what I
wanna talk to you about.

Now if Chan tries to question you alone...

Good morning, Mr. Chan.

- Good morning.

Will you both please come to my cabin

soon after lunch for quiet talk?

Very, very important.

- Yes, Mr. Chan.

- Thank you so much.

- George, do you suppose Mr.
Chan's found out anything?

- I really don't know.

It's too early to say.

Rona, when he questions you, remember.

You know absolutely nothing.

That's our only safe
course now, understand?

- I understand.

- [Charlie] Oh, Captain.

- Here's Scott Pearson's portfolio.

- You have examined Scott
Pearson's papers, Captain?

- No, Mr. Chan, I was
leaving that for you.

Does it say how the hot money got loose?

- Oh, ruthless process of war.

Renegades raid the cash and
steal the loot at end of war.

A man named Lane vaguely mentioned here.

Man named Lane and islands of
Samoa seem to be only clue.

- Pearson must have thought
the stuff was taken to Samoa.

- That is first concrete clue, Captain.

Tiger going away from
village is never feared.

Unfortunate agent's murder is
proof he was approaching prey.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Hello?

Send the doctor over right away.

There's a very sick man here.

Yeah, uh-huh, cabin eight, please hurry!

- [Chattanooga] Hey, Jim,
let me see how I look.

- No, you stay in that bed and lie quiet.

The doctor's coming right over.

Oh, and we'll show Pop how
modern criminology works.

(door knocking)

Come in.

Oh, Doctor, I'm sure glad you came.

He's a very sick man.

He keeps begging for water.

- Can I have some water?

- He looks bad.

- Water, water.

Water.

(glass shatters)
- Oh, I'm sorry.

This is hydrophobia deformance.

Prognosis, uncertain.

Therapy indicates immediate
removal of the liver.

- What are you gonna do, Doc, saw it out?

- We'll see.

(Chattanooga gasps)

Now, now, don't worry.

This isn't gonna hurt you.

- I know it ain't, Doc,
'cause I ain't gonna be here.

Goodbye.

- I'd advise leaving the
criminal investigation

and fingerprinting to
the astute Papa Chan.

- He gone?

- Yeah, he sure is, and
so are our fingerprints.

- Oh, that's bad, isn't it?

- It sure is.

- I ask again, not
accusingly, you understand,

but merely as matter of
information, who is Mr. Lane?

Do either of you know a man named Lane?

- I've never even heard of the man before.

Believe me, Mr. Chan, neither of us

knows anything about this Mr. Lane.

- Did either of you know
identity of murdered man?

- We never saw the man before this cruise.

- I'm inclined to believe what you say,

but I think you knew killer.

- Mr. Chan, I swear on everything

I ever believed in we
know nothing about it.

- Inclined to help you if
you wish to speak truth.

- Mr. Chan, there is something that I--

- Rona, Mr. Chan, can't you see

there's no use torturing her?

- Guilty minds sometimes pinch

worse than ancient boot of torture.

For 30 minutes, you have
both evaded direct questions.

When we reach Samoa, I may
be forced to detain you.

- Oh, you can't do that, Mr. Chan.

- Then you wish to tell all you know?

- There's nothing we can tell you.

- Interview ended for today.

- Oh, Pop!

Say, I got the doctor's
fingerprints from the doorknob,

but I couldn't find anything
on the murder weapon.

- Many persons have handled
that knife since killer.

- But, Pop, all modern
detectives take fingerprints.

- (scoffs) Only old-fashioned criminals

leave such evidence behind.

I wish you would be here after dinner.

Uh, where is other criminologist?

- Oh, he's in touch.

We got a plan to fingerprint
everybody onboard.

- Get hold of him, and both
of you be here after dinner.

I may have use for your specialty.

- Oh, you mean, find some fingerprints?

- On contrary, find no
prints and confirm theory.

- Chop Suey 108 calling Pork
Chop 7-11, come in, over.

- Pork Chop 7-11 receiving
Chop Suey 108, over.

- What's he doing now?

Come in, over.

- He's doing nothin' now.

Uh-oh, he's gone.

He disappeared.

- Well, tail him.

Tail him everywhere he goes.

Come in, over.

- I'll tail him to the bottom
of the sea, okay, roger.

(metal banging)

- Who's up there?

Speak up!

What you tryin' to do, spy on me?

- I ain't spyin' on you.

I'm a detective.

- Detective?

(Chattanooga yelps)

What you mean, detectin'?

Explain yourself, detectin' who?

- (pants) Well, you
see, I ain't after you.

We're after the killer.

You see, I'm Mr. Charlie Chan's

first, I mean, second assistant.

- I think I'll give Mr.
Charlie Chan some work to do.

- Yes, but, uh, ain't you the man

that washes the glasses at the bar?

- What if I is?

- Well, you see, Mr. Jim
is the first assistant,

and he's got a job for you to do.

That's what he was sayin'
a little while ago.

- Only money talks.

Listen, if the cook had
caught you 'round here,

he'd have skinned you alive
anyhow, so show me to the job.

- Come.

- I'm worried, Harold.
- Worried?

What are you worried about?

- Oh, the way these detectives
go snooping around the boat.

Why, Mr. Chan might even
stop us from going ashore.

- Well, I wouldn't worry about it.

He won't bother us.

How do you do?

- Howdy, folks.

Haven't seen that bore of a guy, have ya?

You seen him?

- No, sorry, haven't seen him.

- This murder now, the way I figure it,

the guy was killed in a trading deal.

That acrobat, Kirk, he knows something.

Oh, sorry.

- Certainly.

- And that purser and his girl,

they ain't as innocent as they look.

- If you don't mind, Mr. Burke,

my wife and I wish to be alone.

- Ooh, kind of unsociable, ain't ya?

Yeah, an alibi's always a perfect front,

a perfect front for them that need it.

Now, the way I figure it,
we're all in the same boat,

or on the same boat anyhow. (laughs)

Like the fellow said, we oughta cooperate.

Now, somebody on this boat killed

that trader, if he was a trader.

- I'm sure that is outside our province.

- And another thing, there's something

behind this besides a trading row.

Why, the islands are
flooded with hot money.

You can buy a 10-grand bill
for five, U.S. currency.

That's what's behind
this killing, hot money.

Hey, Kirk, I wanna see you a minute.

- Oh, sorry.

- Oh, excuse me, Mr. Chan.

Say, how's the murder coming?

- Investigation proceeding.

Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Chan.
- Hello, Mr. Chan.

- Afternoon.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Chan.

No, thank you, we'll
have tea in the salon.

- Mr. Chan, tea?

- No, thank you.

Steward, please serve
my dinner in my cabin.

Serve early, I have much work and study.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- What's Mr. Chan up to now?

- He's settin' a trap.

- Trap?

What kind of trap, mousetrap?

- No, you dope, he's settin'
a trap for the killer.

- The killer?

What are we standing here for?

- [Charlie] Quiet, please, lights out.

(switch clicks)

- Shh, keep still.

- My leg's asleep.

- I wish you were asleep.

- Me too.

(suspenseful orchestral music)

Hey, look.

(knife thuds)
- Hey Pop, look out!

Gee, Pop, you sure gave us a scare.

- Man, I've got butterflies.

- We'll now look for no fingerprints.

- But say, Pop, when you planted this,

why didn't you let us know?

We could've caught the guy
right outside the door.

- What do you mean, we
could've caught him?

You mean you could've caught him.

Include me out.

- Experiment not entirely success.

I expected door to open
and knife be thrown in.

Thought perhaps might catch glimpse

of killer's hand, but killer, expert,

throw knife through two-inch slat.

- Phew, what a aim.

- But, Pop, we really could've caught him.

- Hmm, hasty man could
also drink tea with fork.

Here, smart son, we'll use
specialty on knife handle.

- You mean fingerprints, Pop?

- Right.
- Boy, we'll find them.

Hey, look, Pop.

We've got fingerprints of
almost everybody onboard.

- Excellent collection,
perhaps after a while,

number two son be able to take up stamps.

(Jimmy blows)

Well?

- Why, look, Pop, it's
been wiped off with oil.

It's been wiped off and never
touched afterwards, gloves.

- Perhaps, knife never
touched by human hands.

- Mr. Chan, you mean a spook
come through them little slats

and stab that dummy in the back?

- No, he used gloves to throw it.

- The spook did?

- No!

- Perhaps knife not thrown.

Uh, in phraseology of Euclid, X over Y

equal proposition still unsolved.

- Oh.

Hey, Jimmy, what has
Euclid got to do with it?

- Nothin', he's a Greek
mathematician, but he's dead.

- Dead?

Well, what has he got to do
with the case being unsolved?

- He hasn't.

- Oh, I still don't get it.

- Oh, good evening.

- Good evening, this is the
last night dance, Mr. Chan.

You're not gonna miss it, are you?

- Oh, no, may offer humble
self as candidate for waltz?

- Tao has first, wifely duty.

After that, the pleasure will be mine.

- I'll even skip the duty.

Everybody's guessing on
the murder, Mr. Chan.

Laura will pump you for the latest news.

- Tao.

- (chuckles) I'll see you later, Mr. Chan.

- Okay.
- Bye.

- I wouldn't put it apast them either.

- Captain, if you put everyone
into brig whom you suspect,

you soon would require very large brig.

(mellow orchestral music)
(people socializing)

- Would you care to dance, Mrs. Martin?

- Oh, I'd love to.

Do you mind, dear?

- Hmm, what's that?

Oh, no, no, no, go right ahead.

- Miss Rona, Mr. Burke want to see you.

- Just like my husband's father.

He was Swedish, taught Tao's mother

to polka, and she was Polynesian.

- Each country's dance
most beautiful dance

in that particular country.

- But our Polynesian siva siva

seems loveliest to me, Mr. Chan.

- Oh, very beautiful, has
just tinge of Oriental.

- We'll hold a siva siva the first night.

Will you be going ashore, Mr. Chan?

- Uh, ship will remain in port 24 hours.

Expect to be able to come ashore

and take advantage of your hospitality.

- Well, good, then we'll
have a real Polynesian party.

(people applauding)

- Got any gossip, honey?

- Mr. Chan is a marvelous dancer.

- Thank you.

Ah, been very great
pleasure, Mrs. Erickson.

(upbeat orchestral music)

- Did you give the girl the message?

- She come soon.
- Okay, that's all.

Beat it.
- You pay me.

You promise.

- You'll get yours.

- By and by, no savvy,
pay now, me good person.

- Listen, you.

Another crack like that
and you'll be shot--

- No rough stuff, Burke.

- Watch it, boy, one
whisper out of you and--

- You'll pay me by and by, soon?

- Sure, he'll take care of
you, Pete, after a while.

- One word to anyone in this boat

and you go overside, you savvy?

I'll slit you from end to end.

- There's girl coming now.

- Okay, beat it, Pete.

- Are you sure the purser didn't

see you come out here to meet us?

- Quite sure, since your threat

to blackmail me and Mr. Brace--

- (chuckles) That's an ugly word.

Let's just say a
redistribution of wealth, eh?

Come on, hand over, miss.

Well?

- I haven't got it with me.

- Well, where is it?

- It's in the purser's safe.

I'd have no excuse to get
it until we're in port.

- Well, when we do in port,
you better be sure to get it,

if you know what's good for you.

- You have my word.

- [Freddie] Okay, you keep your word,

and we'll keep your secret.

That's fair enough, isn't it?

- I'll give it to you when we get ashore,

and that's all I can promise.

- But watch your step, sister, no tricks.

I know a few of them myself.

- What's the matter, Rona?

You look pale as a ghost.

- Oh, it's nothing, darling.

I'm all right.

It's just nerves, I guess.

- Have you got any further on
the case tonight, Mr. Chan?

- Very little further, Captain,

although I have investigated
intelligently, I hope.

Still, I have no wish to
work fast, not alarm quarry.

- Ah, I keep forgetting that the murder

is only a part of the case.

Say, Mr. Chan, have you
thought of the Whipples?

Oh, I know their papers are in good shape,

but if you say the word--

- (chuckles) Captain, you're
not thinking of putting

the Whipples in your
brig, are you? (laughs)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Hey, Freddie, come.

Have you seen him?
- No.

- Well, we gotta put the
quietus on the Kanaka.

He knows too much.

- Can't you get by
without that stuff, Burke?

- Are you kidding?

One peep outta the Kanaka,
and the whole thing is cooked.

Come on, let's find him.

- Oh, all right.

(suspenseful orchestral music)

- Hey, Pete!

(water splashes)

Man overboard!

- [Man] Man overboard!

(people muttering)

- Pete, that Kanaka steward.

- Pete, you sure?
- Yes sir.

- How you mean, go overboard?

- I saw him climb on the rail
and he just jumped overboard.

- You mean steward go over
side of ship of own volition?

- Yes sir.

- Is there island near?

- Islands here within four or five miles.

We're close to our own
landfall, that's all.

- He is deserter.

Five-mile swim mere stroll
for terrified Kanaka.

- We have a motor gig.

I could stop and put it over.

- Oh, unimportant, Kanaka possessed

little information but
much dangerous knowledge.

He swim to save own life.

- You think someone wanted to get him?

I'll be glad when we
clear Samoa, Mr. Chan.

This cruise has been a nightmare.

- But not dull one, Captain.

(foghorn blaring)

- I'm tellin' ya, he's as guilty
as a weasel in a henhouse.

- Well, Pop will grab him if he is.

- Why, he's got a bankroll
that'd choke a water buffalo.

- Why not a mule?

- Ain't no mules where he come from.

He come from, he one
of them shoemaker men.

- A what?

- Shoemaker, on the islands, you know.

- Oh, you mean, Jamaica.

- Well, anyway, it's hot money.

I ain't ever seen that much cold money

in no place at no time.

- Say, did you see the sizes of the bills?

- Yeah, he's got a big
roll, $50,000 bills.

- Say, listen, $50,000
bills just don't exist.

- Well, he did, and his name is Big Ben,

and he's got the steward's job.

He's gonna be carrying the baggage.

- He is?

- Yes.
- Well, tail him.

Tail him everywhere he goes.

Find out where he bunks and see if he has

any incriminating matter in his effects.

- Yes, but look here, he's got

some knives, them throwing knives.

- Well, find them and this case is solved.

- Good.

(bag bangs)

- No, no, no, not those,
one small bag, please.

- Yes sir.

- What is this?

- My equipment, Pop, I
gotta have it ashore.

- But ship remain in port
of Samoa only 24 hours.

- Sure, but we got a case to solve.

- Hm, with assistance of scientific son,

should solve case in very short time.

(door knocks)

Come in.

- It's from your son, Mr. Chan.

Sparks had a bit of trouble with the code,

but I hope he got it all okay.

- Number three son Tommy usually

have trouble with code himself.

"Miss Simmons' father
was banker in Australia,

"stranded in Manila on way
to United States of America

"with many valuable art objects."

- Well, that's plain enough.

The girl's father hid the stuff,

and she's down here to
get it on the quiet.

- Hm, kangaroo reaches destination
also by leaps and bounds.

- Well, it's clear to me.

- Oh, there are high
stakes in this, Captain.

There are gigantic
operators behind scheme.

I must have more information
before I can accuse anyone.

- Yeah, perhaps you're right, Mr. Chan.

But for my part, I'd throw Mr. Brace

in the brig and sweat this girl.

- And flush quarry like quail?

Oh, no, good hunter never
break twig under foot.

Uh, how soon we can go ashore?

- Medical inspection takes about an hour.

We should be ashore before dark.

- Oh, I see.

Uh, you will remove those to other cabin.

Where is other criminologist?

- Oh, he's in touch.

I sent him on a mission.

- Round him up and say
we go ashore before dark.

- Okay, Pop.

Chop suey 108 calling Pork
Chop 711, come in, over.

- I just got in here.

I've got to finish this job.

Will call, roger.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Somebody's been
foolin' with my property.

Rats! (screams)

(peaceful ukulele music)

(foghorn blares)

(upbeat ukulele music)

- I shall write a letter to
the society on the matter.

These islands should have
restaurants for people

who prefer not to dine in rum shops.

No, we'll not return to the boat.

We'll dine in the bar.

There I can get firsthand
information for my report.

(people socializing)

- Good evening, Dr. and Mrs. Whipple.

You will dine?

- We're unaccustomed to
dining in bars, however--

- I'm sure you will enjoy our dinner now.

This way, please.

(Laura claps)

You will have dinner now, Mr. Chan?

- Not at moment, thank you.

- Later.

- Dinner, Miss Simmons?

- No, thank you.

- Observe little showman, Captain.

Where is young lady's fiance?

- Brace?

Oh, checking his purser accounts.

He should be ashore soon.

- You will come with me, Captain.

I have idea which may prove interesting.

- Sure thing, Mr. Chan.

- You think she'll come through with it?

- Why, sure, what makes
you think she won't?

- Nothing, just wondering, that's all.

Where'd she go?

- Probably gone to her room to get it.

- What about that purser, Brace?

- What do I care about Brace?

It's just the girl I'm dealing with.

- Look, Burke.

Look, you go right back onboard ship

soon as you get it, huh?

- I don't need your advice.

You're in it up to your armpits.

I'm merely selling something
that Chan was too dumb to see.

- Please go back onboard, Burke.

If anybody gets wind of what you're--

- Look, look, two can pluck
one pigeon if it's big enough.

- Here she comes.

- Here I am, Miss Simmons.

Did you bring it?

- Yes.

- Well, hand it over, sister.

- Will you promise that this will

be the last we'll hear of you?

- Well, maybe, honey, maybe.

Come on, give.

Well.

This pays better than cotton goods.

Once a salesman, always
a salesman, you know.

- There's no code of
ethics in your field, then.

- Why, sure, for the dumb ones, maybe.

But me, I give my word a step at a time,

not promising too much, not too little.

- How do I know you can be relied on now?

- Oh, I'll keep my mouth
quiet on my little matter.

That's the deal, but I
figure there are bigger fish

in these waters, and maybe
I'll bait a couple more hooks.

- But as far as George, Mr.
Brace and I are concerned--

- Oh, you're safe, honey, you're safe.

P.T. Burke's a man of his word.

Careful not to give too much word is all.

- Goodbye, Mr. Burke.

- Not goodbye, honey, just goodnight.

We'll meet again sometime.

You might invite me to
the wedding. (laughs)

- [Charlie] Would like few
moments conversation, Mr. Burke.

- Uh, I gotta get back onboard.

I left my wallet and my--

- You will step inside, please.

You will also return
young lady's gift, inside.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Be seated.

- Look, Mr. Chan, my company,

the Southern Cotton Mills will okay me.

- You have been fishing in very
dangerous waters, Mr. Burke.

The gift, please.

- Here it is, sir.

Well, as the old saying is, no harm done

'til you get caught, huh? (chuckles)

Look, Mr. Chan, if you just
let me go, I promise you I'll--

- I suggest you talk freely, Mr. Burke.

- But I don't know anything!

Oh, I might've been gambling a bit rough,

but that's no crime as I see it.

- It is blackmail.

You are on American soil.

- Well, that's all I know.

- Then I will talk for
you, up to a certain point.

Onboard ship, the night the United States

government agent was killed--

- Uh, government agent?

I thought he was a trader.

- Unfortunately, not a trader.

When he was killed, you
assumed natural role,

loud talking, bragging, know-it-all.

Then suddenly, you change completely.

You become furtive.

You confer frequently with Freddie Kirk

and with deserting steward, Pete.

During that time you have
gained certain knowledge.

- Mr. Chan, I'll trade with ya.

I'll trade what I've found
out if you'll just let me go.

- Excuse, please, I do not trade.

Onboard ship, somehow you learned

that Miss Simmons is
traveling under false papers.

You suspect that Mr. Brace, the purser,

has falsified accounts and has

smuggled her into the passenger list.

You used this knowledge for blackmail.

Having begun blackmail,
you are soon aware there is

something far deeper underneath
than merely two lovers

falsifying papers in order to be together.

- Look, Mr. Chan, I, I don't know nothin'.

This will ruin me with the company.

- You begin all of these
activities onboard ship

on the night of the murder,
when you have learned

someone have borrowed steward's mess coat.

Who borrow the coat?

- I don't know!

Look, Mr. Chan, I got a wife
and kids back in the States.

Let me go.

- Who borrow that coat?

- All right, if I tell
ya, will you let me go?

- Will consider same.

- Well.

(knife thuds)
(P.T. crashes)

- Right through the neck, Mr. Chan,

another one of those knives.

- This man would have talked.

- Do you think he knew much?

- Minor conspirator.

- What now?

- Must ask you, Captain, to have

navy services quietly to remove this.

Then you will contact Freddie Kirk.

Inform him casually
that Mr. Burke is dead.

Be careful to keep matter
a secret from the others.

- If Freddie throws these knives--

- Hmm, I believe little showman
unaware Mr. Burke is dead.

With this information, his
actions may prove significant.

- I'll find him.

Where will I meet you, Mr. Chan?

- In the bar.

- I could delay sailing a few hours

if this complicates things.

- Not necessary, Captain.

Believe case will be closed in ample time.

If you see number two son Jimmy

and my assistant, Chattanooga,
please ask them to report.

- Right.
- Thank you.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- He went in there with the watchman.

- Shh, how'd you know the
other guy was a watchman?

- Well, when I
walkie-talkied to you, he was

walkin' around the building
with a big gun strapped on.

- Well, how'd you find Big Ben?

- Well, I tailed him from
the ship like you told me to.

- Shh!

- $10 American money, $10 American money.

- Me give you one pig.

- Pig?

Man, what the blazes can I do with a pig?

- Eat! (chuckles)
- Eat?

No foolin', man.

You'll make yourself enough
money to buy you 50 pigs.

- He's peddling dice, Chattanooga.

- Watch for the bankroll.

It's hot money.

Watch for it.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Come, baby!

Come, baby!

Seven?

- See?

Look.

- Sevens?

Seven?
- That's it, that's it.

That's it.
- Sevens.

(Big Ben laughing)

- Here he comes.

- All right, get ready.

(Big Ben laughing)

(Big Ben yelping)

- I got it!
- Guards, guards!

- Here!

Where are you?

- Look, Jimmy, hot money.

- It's a Kansas City Bankroll.

- Oh, you mean it ain't no good?

I thought we was in Samoa.

(metal clinking)

(dramatic orchestral music)

- [Big Ben] Come on, where'd they go?

(peaceful ukulele music)

- You should've told me sooner, Rona.

Now, we've got to do something.

- Oh, you can't, George.

That man will expose you to the company.

Mr. Chan.

- Excuse, please, would like
brief talk with Miss Simmons.

- Just a second, Rona.

Let me remind you, Mr. Chan,

that Miss Simmons has certain rights.

You can't legally question her.

- Merely wish to ask young lady

one question and to return her property.

- Rona, your necklace.

- Mr. Chan, how did you?

I mean, is Mr. Burke in prison?

- Mr. Burke is dead.

- Burke dead?

- Miss Simmons, time
has come now for truth.

You are British and you
travel under improper visa.

- Oh, I can explain about
those papers, Mr. Chan.

Miss Simmons and I wanted to
take this cruise together.

We're going to be married soon and--

- Excuse, please, I will do explaining.

Miss Simmons is here
to locate and identify

certain objects of art once
stored in banks in Manila.

- That's right, Mr. Chan.

Those things were entrusted to my father.

- Your father did a
noble act, Miss Simmons.

He chose rather to save his wife

and children than objects of art.

For this, he was blamed.

- Oh, you do understand, Mr. Chan.

I'll tell you everything.

My father's too ill to make the trip,

and I know art as well as he does.

- Merely wish one piece of information.

Who contact your father in
London and arrange this journey?

- It was Mr. Kirk, Freddie Kirk.

- Mr. Chan, is there anything we can do?

- You will both take special
care of yourselves tonight.

I will contact you later.

(lively ukulele music)

- I thought you left us, Mr. Chan,

and the fun is just starting.

- Merely go for stroll in village.

- [Tao] Got the shipboard
killer yet, Chan?

- Unfortunately, killer not yet known.

- Huh, well, you'll have to
hurry before the boat sails.

- Huh?

Did you say something, my dear?

- No, it was Mr. Chan.

- Tea, please.

- Mr. Chan?

Oh, Mr. Chan, how are you?

How are you?

Is the drowning still unsolved?

Or was it a drowning?

- Knifing, Professor,
someone threw a blade.

(chuckles) The professor's forgetful.

- That's right, that's right.

To be sure, a knife,
uh-huh, here in the salon?

No, but then these islanders
are always throwing knife.

- Require great skill and delicacy

to throw knife of this kind, Professor.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Jim, where's my hat?

- There it is.

- Woo-hoo!
(artifacts clattering)

Phew, he bit.

- Shh, quiet, the guard'll hear us.

This is a fish museum.

- Let's find a door and get outta here.

Jimmy?

Jimmy?

(Chattanooga yelps)

(Chattanooga crashes)

Jimmy, help!

It's got me!

Help me, oh!

(case bangs)

Hey, Jimmy, look, money.

Phew!
- One of us better go get Pop.

- What do you mean, one of us?

I ain't gonna leave without you

and you ain't gonna leave without me.

Hey, Jimmy, look, what's that?

- Come on, let's get outta here.

(people socializing)

- Freddie Kirk found
out all right, Mr. Chan.

- About Burke?

- Yeah, he was hanging around the veranda

when they carried the body out.

- Good, when next we see Freddie Kirk,

pieces of jigsaw puzzle
may begin to fit together.

- What's the move now?

- Believe Kirk will make
next move through fear.

Sit down.

(upbeat ukelele music)

Watch closely.

May see a clue of interest.

Information seems to
have upset Mrs. Erickson.

- Yes.

- Little showman evidently
afraid death hangs over his head.

- What?

- Oh, uh, excuse me, Professor.

I'll be right back.

Goodnight, Mr. Whipple.

Aren't you going to take in the
siva siva tonight, Mr. Chan?

- Only three hours 'til sailing.

We'll have no time for show now.

- Think you can clean up
that murder before sailing?

- Which murder, Mr. Erickson?

- Yeah, I guess there're lots of 'em.

Fella heard of 'em all.

- Little showman seemed
to be in very great hurry.

That path lead to
Professor Martin's museum.

- That's right.

I figured it was the Martin
crowd right from the start.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(suspenseful orchestral music)

(knife thuds)
(Freddie groans)

(woman laughing)

Is he?

- Killer is expert.

- I couldn't see a foot
in front of me out there.

Did you hear that laugh, Mr. Chan?

- Perhaps romantic villager.

- I heard someone running.

- Someone running now.

Chattanooga.

- Hey, it's Pop!

Hey, Pop, we found it, oodles of it.

- Money, Mr. Chan.

- Oh, amateur detectives have success.

- Yeah, it's in the museum.

Everything's stuffed with it.

- What?

Quick, get Miss Simmons and
Mr. Brace here immediately, go.

- There's enough money here to finance

every trader in the Pacific.

Mr. Chan, we oughta throw that professor

and his party in the
brig before they escape.

- Escape to where, Captain?

- They were talking
about a sloop, remember?

- Could not get very far, hmm.

Miss Simmons, Miss Simmons.

- The Gauguin.

- You know painting?

- Oh, yes, it belongs to Mr. Fitzmorris,

the banker at Wellington.

- Hm, and this?

- [Rona] Oh, it's Mrs. Usher's miniature.

- Mr. Chan, Mr. Chan!

Mr. Chan.

Look, what's that?

- Oh, Chattanooga, merely turtle.

Oh, shh, someone coming, hide.

Captain!

If any people come, hide
yourself, make no noise.

Hide, many people.

(brush rustling)

(Chattanooga sneezes)

(head bangs)
- Ouch!

- Shh, quiet, Chattanooga!

- Oh, you've destroyed the
work of years, you pig!

- All right, you've got your orders.

Start packing it up.

You been fooling with the stuff, Mayfair.

- No, of course not.

- Who opened these boxes?

- I don't know, but if any
harm comes to Mrs. Martin--

- If it hadn't been for
Chan, we wouldn't have had

to pull any of this rough stuff.

Lane had it figured out that you

and the professor would never get wise,

but when Lane heard you two were

fooling around, we had to move fast.

All right, start packing it up.

- You will drop gun, Mr. Erickson.

(guns firing)

- Tao, are you hurt?

- Where are others?

- You find it out!

You find it for yourself, you big--

- Raise your hands,
everybody, and ladies, too.

Get his gun, Laura.

(switch clicks)

(gun fires)
(Laura shrieks)

(switch clicks)

- Mr. Brace, you will cover
others and remain here.

- Yes sir.

- Captain, come with me.

(knife thuds)

(knife thuds)

(gun fires)

(shooter clangs)

(knife thuds)

Now!

Stay where you are.

(metal clangs)
(punch thuds)

- Why, Mr. Chan, she's a man!

- So what?

(punch thuds)

- Why you.

Can ya beat it?

A man.

- Quite right, Captain, that is

Mr. Joseph Murdoch,
handyman and one-time valet

and now supposed wife
of Mr. Theodore M. Lane.

- Why didn't you let me get him?

- Oh, you were supposed to
save my life, eh, Mr. Lane?

I thank you so much, but why?

- I was saving you, Chan.

After that night in the cabin, I knew

you wore a protector back and front.

I wanted him to get one in
your neck with my compliments.

At the time, I could cover up right.

- Thank you so much, but you were

entirely wrong about
protection back and front.

- How did you know me?

- I've been puzzled for many days.

And finally, tonight in bar room,

your supposed wife betray
herself as man by walk.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Mr. Chan.

- Excuse me, please.

Yes?

- We can never thank you
enough for what you've done.

- Mere routine line of duty, Miss Simmons.

I trust your honorable
father's possessions

you found intact?

- As far as I can tell, I
think everything's here.

- Amicable ending to all
problems, even Captain very happy.

He now have enough prisoners

to fill ship's brig to overflowing.

(knife thuds)
(Chattanooga gasps)

- Mr. Chan, look.

- Hey, Pop, this is how that thing works.

(Charlie groans)

(dramatic orchestral music)