Original subtitles

Max?

Please, no!

As a district attorney, I don't see it fit to follow that course.

Yes, you can quote me.

Bye.

This thing is a coroner's report.

"Max von Borg, bullet wound in head."

Why are you showing it to me?

Just listen to this.

"Has anybody invited you to join the Crusaders?"

"These invidious invitations"

"are handed out by a new group of local hatemongers."

Yes? - Mr. Randolph's here for his appointment.

For more on this extreme… - Ask him to wait.

Mr. Walker, Mrs. Hartley wants you to call her when you're free.

That will be another speech.

I'll phone her later. - "Race prejudice and discrimination."

"Make money out of it."

What were you saying, Howard?

You look at it.

Read down there where it's marked.

"I traced some of their leaflets to a small print shop here in the city."

"A fellow named Max von Borg prints them, but he isn't telling who pays for them."

"I'm out to uncover the patron of these lunatics"

"who start hate campaigns."

"I'm out to find him and expose him." Well?

A man named Max Borg prints leaflets for a hate group.

A man named Max Borg kills himself.

I want to look into it.

When was this in Riggs' column? - Today.

When did Borg die? - Today.

Get Riggs down here.

No, I can always do better with Charlie Riggs

if I meet him off my beat.

You know him? - Sure.

He's going to be my brother-in-law any week now.

All right.

Go find him in some nightclub.

You're the assistant district attorney in charge of nightclubs.

Don't let Caroline Riggs hear you say that.

I'm a reformed man.

Anyway, Charlie never goes to nightclubs.

A very serious fellow, Charlie Riggs.

Charlie, what makes you think Borg was murdered?

Sometimes, many people have to get killed to protect an industry.

Howard, this hate thing is a big fat racket

and needs a lot of protecting.

If your office knew its business,

they'd have gone after these racketeers a long time ago.

That's good newspaper copy, Charlie,

but where would a racket like that pay off?

Forming an organization.

Membership dues, badges, buttons,

magazine subscriptions, donations,

and even uniforms.

Ante up to exploit the anti-this or that.

Any race or religion they can use as a scapegoat.

Ignorance pays off, Howard,

and the profits can climb in the millions.

What happened to the old Charlie Riggs with his eye to a keyhole?

I've got both eyes open these days.

If you'll excuse me. - You aren't going out again tonight?

I've got some business, sorry.

He's been doing that for weeks now.

I never know where he goes.

Charlie's a big boy now.

Sometimes he doesn't come home until morning.

You two can have the rest of the evening to yourselves with my blessing.

How's that for a pal?

It puts me in right with the DA's office. - Put me in right with the office.

Come on down tomorrow to discuss it. - Anytime.

I've got to interview Mrs. Borg tomorrow.

Owe me a favor,

and thanks for the candy.

Oh, no.

No, Max was not killed.

My husband…

He took his own life.

For what reason, Mrs. Borg?

Max was worried.

That man always called on the telephone.

Then, he'd come to the shop.

Always questions and questions!

What man was this, Mrs. Borg?

His name is Riggs.

He writes things in the newspapers about Max.

Mr. Riggs wasn't trying to hurt your husband.

I don't know!

Mrs. Borg.

You've seen this before, haven't you?

Yes.

Max printed this job.

He did it last week.

It's one of those invitations Riggs mentioned in his column.

"Join the Crusaders."

"Fight for Americanism."

Where'd you get this? - From Charlie.

He's got quite a collection.

Is he still waiting outside? - Yes.

Mrs. Borg,

when was the last time Mr. Riggs came to see your husband?

Last time? - Yes, sir?

Have Mr. Malloy's friend come in, Miss McConnor.

I guess it was… - Yes, sir.

Yes, the night before Max died.

What about yesterday morning?

Did you see anyone in the shop

when you came down and found your husband's body?

I ran downstairs…

Only Max was there!

Are you sure of that, Mrs. Borg?

Was no one there? - Nobody wanted to kill Max.

He killed himself!

Come in.

Good afternoon, sir.

Hello, Howard. - Charlie.

He's the man!

Yes, you!

You made Max go crazy.

You made him take his own life.

He murdered Max!

What do you say, Charlie?

I've never seen anyone so afraid.

Fear, Howard, fear!

It's a terrible weapon.

You saw what it did to Mrs. Borg this afternoon.

I could see she was lying.

She's afraid if she doesn't hang onto that suicide story,

they will get rid of her too.

Jack, set them up again.

It sounds like Capone, Schultz, and the mobs are back again.

When the law closes in on one racket, the big boys always find another.

With the mobsters, it was liquor and blood.

With this outfit, it's hate and blood.

These hate groups are just harmless lunatics.

Lunatics, yes,

especially the warped minds on top

with a dream of power, gold or political success,

but not harmless.

When the racket boys move in,

it's Merry Christmas for a few smart operators

when they find a soft touch like this.

Charlie, what got you into this?

I'm fed to the teeth seeing people pushed around.

I was born in this city, Howard.

In our block,

we had guys from every race and religion you ever heard of,

and a couple you didn't.

Yet we got along pretty well.

That's the way it ought to be.

In our block,

nobody cared what country your parents came from

or where they went to church.

Nobody called you nasty names

until you were taught there were nasty names

and some people are supposed to be called by them:

Micks, Polacks, wops, flammies, spics, honkies.

That's part of our history.

America always has to melt away the differences between people.

Sure, and almost always you don't understand

why they're supposed to be different.

It's just somebody else's say-so or influence.

Now we've got people around who want to make people hate each other,

be afraid of each other,

just to make money out of it, and I don't like that.

Look, Charlie, hold off your columns for a week or so, will you?

Give me time to run this down.

Here's your rundown right here in my case, and I've got a fistful of new stuff.

You're getting interested, right?

Sure, I'm interested, but we're not playing with kids.

Take it easy and wait a while.

Lose a great story and let my readers think I'm scared?

Give me time to find out who murdered Borg.

Give me a week. - All right, my friend.

I told you last night that's all I wanted: one week.

I mean it, Charlie, take it easy.

Nothing doing, I'm a little guy, but I don't scare easily.

Pay the tab, okay? You're the new boy in this club.

I never drink alone.

That can be fixed.

After you.

What floor? - Eleven.

That's very simple.

Please.

Take it easy.

The janitor, Mr. Wachinski, found the body.

The only way they could identify him was by his pocketbook.

His face…

Then Mrs. Wachinski came and got me.

He couldn't have done it deliberately, Howard.

Charlie would never…

Of course not, baby.

Anybody who ever knew Charlie at all…

How's it coming, Wylie?

Find anything? - Not much, Mr. Malloy.

All the fingerprints seem to belong to Miss Riggs and the deceased.

Caroline.

Is anything missing?

I talked to Miss Riggs earlier.

His briefcase, apparently. - He always brought it home with him.

He did most of his writing here.

Did you check his office?

Find anything? - Not that they could see.

We'll find out.

We'll find out about a lot of things.

"Assistant District Attorney Malloy charges murder"

"and hints hate conspiracy in death of columnist pal."

Did you indeed?

The reporter asked me what I thought.

So you told him? - Yes.

"The time is now to appoint a special prosecutor"

"capable of handling this vicious outbreak of violence in our fair city."

"We want…"

They want action, and they want it now.

Yes? - Mrs. Hartley is here for her appointment.

Is it that late?

All right, send her in.

Howard, there's no evidence that Riggs was murdered.

There's no evidence that anything he told you was true.

He's dead, isn't he?

I'm sorry, are you busy? - No, come in, Grace, we're just finishing.

This is my assistant, Howard Malloy.

How are you? - We've met before.

One of Frank's brightest young men. - Oh.

You must not let him overwork you. - We're always busy, Mrs. Hartley.

All right, Howard, go ahead with this case,

but if what Riggs said was true, watch out.

He was right. - Forget that he was a pal of yours.

Use your head instead of your heart.

I don't want this office to look any worse than it does already.

That's hardly possible.

Is Frank making another speech for you?

Civic betterment dinner next week, I hope.

You can lead an old horse to dinner, but don't expect him to speak.

Nice to see you again, Mrs. Hartley. - Thank you.

Remember what I said, Howard, nothing foolish.

I'll try.

Sit down, Grace.

Now then.

What's this about a speech?

Frank, we need you at the speaker's table.

With you there, it will be almost as if Jonathan himself were present.

Everybody remembers that you were his last protege,

that you worked with him until the very end.

I'd never be district attorney today

if it hadn't been for Judge Hartley's sponsorship and guidance.

We'll never forget him, will we, Frank?

No honest politician could ever forget your husband.

What kind of speech will you make?

We must send some sort of announcement to the papers.

Perhaps I could say a few words about civil liberty

in our great metropolis.

Good.

"A free city with freedom for all men."

That sort of thing. - Fine.

You have nothing to prove that Borg was murdered,

and now you've got nothing to prove that Riggs was murdered.

Nothing.

Howard.

Are you asleep?

Howard. - What?

Oh, almost.

I guess I'd better be getting home.

You're very tired. - No, I was up all night.

Why don't you stretch out here? Take a nap.

No, I better go home

to get a clean shirt.

Then, start out again.

Thanks for lunch, baby.

How do you feel?

Scared.

It was all so sudden.

I just don't know why.

All that work and courage,

going after these thugs,

I guess he never realized

how they could turn their viciousness against him.

It's awful,

the feeling of helplessness.

We're not so helpless.

I'm going to follow every lead that Charlie left.

I wish he'd told me more.

Now, what about tonight?

You can't stay here.

Why not?

I don't think you should.

It will be fine, Mrs. Willis across the hall insists on staying.

Are you sure you'll let her?

I don't think I can stop her.

All right, I'll phone you later.

I'll be waiting.

I'll be off.

Oh.

I wanted to show you this.

I found it on a shelf in Charlie's closet.

I wonder where it came from?

I don't know.

It's signed with just initials.

Yes, but there's something written on the back of it.

That's Charlie's handwriting.

Let's have the phone.

"Sigmund Kosterich."

"Rembrandt Studios."

Who is that?

A customer.

Who? - A client.

No clients today.

A telegram.

No telegrams today.

Please, Mr. Kosterich, I need to talk to you.

I'm an admirer of yours.

Admirer?

Admirer?

You're charming.

Won't you come in? - Thanks.

What do you want here?

We all want something.

Gold, wine, or the warmth of beautiful women.

What do you want here?

I'll tell you, Mr. Kosterich.

Some of my old fraternity brothers are planning a reunion.

We were wondering if you'd make up a poster for us.

A poster? - A poster.

I do not draw posters.

I'm an artist, a painter.

Will you go now? - Come on now, Mr. Kosterich.

You've made posters before.

Have I? - Don't you remember?

Often it is not wise to remember.

Gold,

wine,

a beautiful woman.

That's your story.

It is the only story.

There's a beautiful woman.

The beauty of youth.

Who is she? - A model.

An old friend. - I'd like to have that.

It's already sold.

What's it doing here, then?

I'll hang it at an exhibition of mine at the Contemporary Museum next week.

It will be my first one-man show in America.

It's different from that big blonde head on the Crusader poster.

I think you're from the police.

Not exactly.

What does that mean? - District attorney's office.

You better think back about that poster. - Yes, I will.

I will, indeed.

Are you going now to get the police?

As a matter of fact, I'm not. I'm on my way home to change my shirt.

I'll take those.

Were you looking for something?

I said, were you looking for something?

What's your name?

Miller.

Take it easy.

No identification.

I've seen this one before.

Who is she?

Just a dame, I don't know who. I tore it out of a paper.

It reminded me of my grandmother.

Make better jokes, kid, you're in trouble.

What are these?

"Do you need help? See the Angel."

Who's this Angel? - How should I know?

Where'd you get these cards?

Someone wanted me to see the guy. - A fresh card for every visit.

What were you after in my apartment?

Just on a little visit.

Just on a little visit!

Okay, kid, I'll send you on a little visit.

I'll give you time to think up more answers.

Breaking and entering, assault and battery.

See the Angel?

I think I'll do a little visiting myself.

Yes, I could use some help.

Where can I find the Angel?

Are you new around here?

Thanks.

What do you sell in this pushcart of yours?

Apples, oranges, grapes, everything in season.

Please, fix the summons up.

Please.

Pardon me, where can I find the Angel?

I'm the Angel. What can I do for you, my friend?

Stay off the main streets with your pushcart

and you won't get another summons.

Here.

Pay the fine.

Thank you, Mr. Angel.

Harry, take over. - Sure, boss.

Come into my office, we can talk there.

All right, anything you say. - Sure, my old man is hardly there.

Sit down, Mr… - Malloy.

Malloy, yes, I know.

Is that boy Knuckles in trouble again?

He told me his name was Miller. - Yes, he has a lot of names.

Around here, we call him Knuckles.

We don't let him around here anymore.

Those punk kids.

Sometimes you can't help them.

What did he do now? - He hid himself in my apartment.

He tried to give me the business. - What happened?

The last I saw of him, he was riding off in a little black wagon.

Uh-huh.

What brings you here, Mr. Malloy?

I found this card in the kid's pocket.

It says: see the Angel.

So you came to see me.

Check. - Good.

I give away thousands of cards like that.

What can I do for you, my friend?

Answer a few questions. - Such as?

Do you care for a drink? - Never cared more.

Why are you called the Angel?

My name is Angelo Agostini,

and all my life, I've enjoyed doing things for people.

Here's to the first angel I ever met.

Here's to our next special prosecutor.

Who would that be?

You, I think, Mr. Malloy.

You've made quite an impression on this town.

I knew who you were when you first came in.

You've been driving the newspapers crazy.

They're demanding the governor to appoint a special prosecutor on this case.

There's no chance I'd get it.

You've got every chance.

Mr. Malloy,

I'm curious.

Just how far do you expect to go in this case?

At least as far as whoever murdered Charles Riggs.

You're a tough guy, Mr. Malloy, I can see that.

I like tough guys

who are tough about the right things.

Perhaps in my fashion, I could be of some help to you.

Like I told you, I enjoy doing things for others.

What can you do for me?

This is the Angel calling.

Is the big fellow in?

Thanks.

It keeps me young and happy doing things for others.

Hello?

How's the golf these days?

Fine.

What are you doing about appointing a special prosecutor on this Riggs case?

I've got Malloy here with me from the DA's office.

It seems to me he'd make a fine special prosecutor.

I thought if you'd talk to the boss, put pressure on the right people…

Fine, I'd appreciate that.

What? I'm sorry, I won't keep you.

Goodbye.

What's your angle, Agostini?

Must I have an angle?

Who was that you just called?

Do we have to mention names?

You make a phone call, and just like that, I'm a special prosecutor?

Of course, you'll have to do something about it yourself.

Gather some of those civic groups around you.

All you need is a little help.

Let's keep in touch, Mr. Malloy.

Let's try to help each other.

Yes.

I found quite a lot about the young lady.

Her name is Whitfield.

Whitfield? - Barbara Whitfield.

This is a pleasant change from office routine.

What does she do besides pose for pictures?

Quite a few things.

She has worked in nightclubs,

very fancy ones.

No dives.

No dives?

For a while, she worked as a model in the Fifth Avenue dress shop.

Two years ago, she sang in a Broadway musical.

She's quite a dish.

Is she singing anywhere now?

A nice place over on the East Side

with low lights and soft music.

Waiter.

When does Miss Whitfield sing again?

We just got here.

When is the supper show?

That was the supper show.

Thanks.

Is that why we came here, to hear that singer?

I wanted to get a look at her,

but I also wanted to spend some time with you.

I shouldn't have come to a nightclub.

Nonsense, it'd do you good to get away from that apartment.

You'll move from there, right?

I don't think so.

At least not for a while yet, anyway.

I keep hoping I'll find something, some clue.

That reminds me, we can't stay here very long.

My assistant, Quigley, is waiting for me.

I think we've got to leave.

This is the place, Howard.

Reportedly, they arrived here about a half hour ago

with a load of leaflets.

I'd like to get a look inside.

Nix it, the elevator.

That's the watchman. - Is anybody else around?

Yes.

Yes?

Who?

No, you got the delivery entrance, he's downstairs.

Who is downstairs? - I don't know, two or three of them.

We've got a chance, let's go in.

Sure. - I'll meet you downstairs.

This stuff can't all be leaflets.

It's hard to tell what any of it is, might even be legitimate.

Let's poke around some more.

We're standing right in the middle of Main Street here.

Wait a minute, I wonder what's inside these things.

Let's look.

This looks like some more of Borg's work.

Yes.

Here are some kinds of shirts.

Uniform shirts. - Fancy dress costumes and everything.

Even buttons for the lapel.

Souvenir? - Thanks.

Somebody must be making a lot of money out of these.

Do you mean they sell these uniforms? - They don't give them away.

If you want to play Crusader,

you have to buy a uniform, badges, belts, caps,

all that organization stuff.

This is how wars are started, in a dusty warehouse.

Who do you think is behind these Crusaders?

Let's find out what's going on down there.

Who said angels fear to tread? - Not me.

Let's get out of here.

Another Crusader leaflet?

Where did you get it? - A little print shop downtown.

Have him watched 24 hours a day. - I'm tending to that, boss.

Malloy.

Yes, Mrs. Hartley.

Yes, but it will have to be after 7:00.

Yes, fine.

Old Mother Hartley?

Yes.

Do you have to speak for your supper?

Oh, no.

Yes, Callahan.

Oh, yes, send him in.

Mr. Malloy. - Thanks.

Come in, Mr. Malloy.

I'm so glad you could drop by. - Your call aroused my curiosity.

Do sit down. - Thanks.

Howard?

May I call you Howard?

Yes, of course.

Do you want to be special prosecutor?

What?

You can be if you want to be.

Some rather influential people think you're the man for the job.

Charlie Riggs started it, I'd like a chance to finish it.

They've already been in touch with the governor.

Really?

Then I guess it's okay with the DA. - Frank?

He won't object when he knows that I'm supporting you.

I'm very grateful, Mrs. Hartley. - Now, one thing.

I'm told that a small-time politician named Agostini

had something to do with suggesting your name as special prosecutor.

I guess that's right, he did.

This man's reputation is unsavory, to say the least.

I suggest that you disavow Mr. Agostini immediately.

Consider him disavowed.

In that case, I think you might consider yourself appointed.

Malloy.

I tried to reach you all afternoon.

Other people can call you special prosecutor,

but to me, you'll always be my favorite assistant.

Is that you, Malloy?

Agostini.

I phoned to congratulate you on your appointment.

What?

If there's anything I can do, let me know.

Yes, call me Angel.

Howard, we did it. You're a special prosecutor.

I expect great things of you.

By the way, could you drop over tomorrow night?

I want you to meet some people.

I've sent you a confidential file on some of them.

They're men who have tremendous influence.

Take a look at my notes before you come over.

Yes. Yes, I'll do that.

About 6:00 tomorrow?

Right, bye.

Mrs. Hartley sent you this envelope about an hour ago by special messenger.

Yes, she just told me.

Things are moving fast, aren't they? - Yes, in a circle.

I wish there was something I could do to help you.

I usually like to help myself.

That's fine, too,

but what about these wires?

All these papers you have to sign.

I could run errands.

I hate to keep you out of this, baby.

Howard.

We picked her up at the airport. - That man has no right to stop me.

Where to? - She had a one-way ticket to Mexico City.

Taking a little trip. - An expensive trip.

Who arranged it? - Nobody.

Somebody ordered you to leave, who was it?

Please, I have had so much trouble.

Without my husband, I don't know what to do.

Mrs. Borg, why are you so frightened?

What is it? - Someone called her this afternoon.

Told her to catch the next plane to Mexico City.

You know about that? - We've had your telephone tapped for days.

Please, for your own sake, tell us.

Who called you?

I…

I don't know, it was a strange voice.

Book her as a material witness without bail.

What does this mean? - This means you'll be safe.

If you go home, those men might kill you, like your husband.

You won't let them kill me. - Come along.

Don't you worry.

Mr. Malloy will take good care of you.

Won't you, Howard? - Sure.

I'll take good care of both of you.

Do you want to help?

Okay, you've got the job.

This is the place for you right here.

I wanted you to say that.

I did.

Anything else you wanted me to say?

Anything else you want to say?

That would take a long time.

Oh. - Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Right, just there.

Good evening, sir.

Mr. Malloy.

Adjoin them next? - Yes, dear.

You did come, I'm so glad.

So am I, it's a change of scene.

Will you have a cocktail,

or would you rather have something to drink?

Thanks, I'll wait a while, work up to it. - Just as you please.

Now, as I told you,

you're going to meet some people…

Grace, will you come over and look at this?

Presently, my dear.

Some people who would bear watching, as the saying is.

I've met a few of those already. - We'll add to your collection.

All these people? - Oh, no.

Just the ones I sent you the notes of.

In fact, I don't know half the people here myself,

and thank heavens.

The only people I enjoy these days are the ones I haven't met before.

The strangers that my friends bring along.

Shall we go?

Did you go over my notes carefully? - Yes, very.

Good.

Keep them in mind…

Oh, I beg your pardon.

As we meet the subjects. - Grace, you left your cocktail.

Yes, just a moment.

Now we'll go from left to right.

Mr. Nichols, may I present Mr. Malloy? Harry, this is our new special prosecutor.

Malloy. - We've already met informally.

Mr. Nichols' papers didn't think much of my appointment.

Harry against you? Really?

Surely, it's only because he's opposing his local competitor,

the "Express Journal."

Really, Grace?

Who wants to look into a man's motives at a gay time like this?

We're all here for a little relaxation from serious things.

Nichols is a lord of the press.

He began as a copy boy and worked his way to the top

by inheriting a chain of newspapers from his father.

Give Nichols any trouble,

and you'll be the subject of a furious editorial the next day,

simultaneously in 34 newspapers.

I hardly think this is the time to discuss Mr. Malloy's business or mine.

I thought you did all your business at cocktail parties?

Sometimes your polite little jokes aren't very polite.

Very little.

This brings us to Tom Waldron, Jr.

Mr. Malloy, may I present the worst-dressed radio executive

in the industry,

and the only really frivolous mind you'll meet this afternoon?

If Grace hadn't been Judge Hartley's wife,

she'd not get away with such casual slander.

Waldron is a schemer and a fool.

He wants to get into politics, but then, who doesn't?

Like a lot of people, he thinks society is tumbling

and that the Waldron plan for social reorganization

must be applied at once, or we'd perish.

If Grace ever runs out of bright conversation,

all she has to do is remember the Judge's epigrams.

You are a rascal, Kosterich,

a complete rascal.

I acknowledge it.

Here is Stuart Pemberton, public relations.

Hello. - Mr. Malloy.

Should I say private relations?

You shouldn't, Grace.

May I introduce Sigmund Kosterich?

Mrs. Hartley. - Mr. Malloy.

Mr. Kosterich and I have met.

I don't seem to recall our meeting.

Oh?

I must be mistaken.

If you'll excuse me.

Look here, Malloy.

This crusade of yours is tongue in cheek, right?

Hardly.

Don't tell me you're the quixotic defender of the rights of man?

The "Express Journal" says you are.

It's hard to tell what you mean.

I mean, you can't be falling for your own publicity.

I can't help thinking that you're stirring…

Pemberton is a big-time fixer.

He's a fool too, but very influential.

I can't tell you anything about him

that he won't tell you himself in conversation.

Be careful of this man.

The right to hate is just as inalienable as the right to free speech.

You've got to defend that too.

Inalienable is a very important word, Mr. Pemberton.

I'm sure it's hard to say on purpose.

Never mind the remarks, young man.

I'm talking about the history of man.

Out of hatred came the triumph of one group over another,

the elimination of the misfit and the weak.

It created evolution of a superior class.

Don't you see, Malloy?

Out of it came our great industrial civilization.

Out of it came a war with 20 million dead.

I feel obliged to interrupt this conversation.

Will you excuse us, Stuart, please?

Bad politics, Howard. - A bad man.

I agree, and a man with a habit of victory.

Cocktail? - No, thanks.

Andrew, bring Mr. Malloy a Scotch and…

Water, please.

Thank you. - You're welcome.

Grace, cherie, you must come over here for a moment to settle a point for us.

Apparently, I'm necessary to an argument.

Will you excuse me? - Of course.

I'm Barbara.

Good.

Good what?

Good name for you.

You look as if you ought to be called Barbara.

Really?

Scotch and water, sir.

That was mine.

Yes, I know.

Thank you.

I wonder if your name fits your looks.

Malloy is my name, Howard Malloy.

Good.

Good what? - Good guessing.

That's who I thought you were.

How?

Everybody here has been talking about you this afternoon,

and you're the only stranger who looks as if he ought to be called Howard.

You're a special something or other, aren't you?

Prosecutor.

What do you do? - Sing.

Yes, obviously.

Do you ever relax?

From what? - Singing.

As often as possible.

What about the song a minute ago?

That was just for myself.

I like to do things for myself once in a while.

Doesn't that happen often?

Now, stop this.

I never answer questions on an empty stomach.

I'm hungry too.

Are you with somebody?

That's a very large question.

I'm not with Harry anyway.

I liked the song, Barbara.

The song, Harry?

Thank you.

Howard, please forgive me.

Did you finally get a drink? - Yes, I did, Mrs. Hartley.

Thank you.

You've met more strangers today than I have.

I was just getting acquainted when Nichols arrived.

Who is she with? - Goodness knows.

Our Mr. Pemberton has been looking most possessive.

Mr. Kosterich as well.

I know.

Your office called, Mr. Malloy. A Mr. Quigley is waiting for you.

They said it was important. - Yes, thanks.

Does that mean you have to go? - Yes, right away.

Oh.

I'll have Andrew fetch your hat. - Thanks.

Good night, Miss Whitfield.

Good night, Mr. Malloy.

Oh.

What did you want?

I just wanted to see you again. Didn't you want to see me again?

You're still a man with a lot of questions.

Yes.

Didn't you want to see me again?

Yes.

All right then.

How did you get my number? - That's easy where I work.

Is everything easy for you?

No.

It's just as well.

Oh, please, no pictures.

This is for the house collection, sir.

That's going to look as if the drinks weren't very good.

Maybe they can paint in a smile.

You were through, right? - Sure.

Let's get out of here. - I've got to change.

Did you see the show tonight? - Most of it.

Did you like it?

I liked you.

Didn't you think the boy with the harp was good?

I didn't notice.

I was waiting for you.

I won't be long.

I'll pardon your back.

What? - About face, Mr. Prosecutor.

Oh, sure.

Is this visit business or pleasure?

Right now, it's your business and my pleasure.

We can go somewhere else.

People always want to go somewhere else.

Do you blame them?

It depends.

This wall is very uninteresting.

Patience, patience.

I'm changing my mind.

About what?

About you.

All right, at ease.

Changing from what to what?

From maybe, perhaps.

Are you always so uncertain about things?

Things?

People?

Aren't you?

Sometimes.

Birds of a feather.

"Special prosecutor turns playboy."

I should have broken that girl's camera last night.

Forget about last night.

Have you forgotten about it?

Not yet, but I'm trying.

Why?

It doesn't figure.

With what? - With you.

What are you after?

You.

Look out, Howard.

Look out. - For what?

Don't play with me. - Who's playing?

If you meant everything last night, then look out.

I told you before, everything's easy for you.

Too easy. - Not always.

No? When wasn't it?

I don't know, maybe you're right. - Am I?

In fact, things have been easy for me lately.

Take the way I got to be special prosecutor.

What do you mean?

It's as if somebody fixed it, or had to fix it.

Fixed it? - Yes.

You must have smiled at someone the way you smile at me.

People should be careful of that smile.

People should be careful with a lot of things about you.

Even angels can get their wings clipped.

Do you have the scissors

for my wings?

Take a look at this, Malloy,

and keep looking at it so it doesn't happen again.

That's no way to run a special investigation.

Stay out of trouble.

Trouble?

Really?

Am I a lot of trouble?

Women always are.

Beautiful women, anyway.

Of course.

That's what men always like.

The beauty? - The trouble.

Perhaps you'd like this little lady better, Miss Whitfield.

No, thank you, this is the one for me.

Does he have a name?

Yes, it's Bennie.

Benvenuto, really.

I used to have a cat called Hadrian VII.

We ended up calling him Harry.

Yes, wasn't that the cat Mr. Pemberton bought for you?

Yes.

It was.

Will you take Bennie with you, or shall we send him?

I'll take him with me.

Do you have one of those carrying boxes?

Yes, a traveling case, I'll get one for you.

I always thought you bought cats at a special place,

a cat farm or something, where they bred and trained them.

They train them here,

but not out of the last shred of their character.

Oh.

Anyway, I like to train them myself.

What happened to Hadrian VII?

I got tired of him.

Why did you come over to me at that party, Howard?

It's because you were the only person who didn't look as if you belonged there.

Really?

I belong anywhere I'm wanted.

Do you? - Don't I?

This is a nice one, it's finished in leatherette.

May I take him?

What is this great interest in cats anyway?

I have a friend who doesn't like cats.

Can you lend me $35?

Sure, I think so. - It's for Bennie.

Can't I… - Would you like to?

Thank you. - You're welcome.

It's a pleasure.

It's the thought, not the cat.

I know he'll be well-behaved.

Do you?

Here you are.

Thank you, sir. - Thank you.

Barbara! Barbara, darling.

Hi, Lenny, how are you?

Fine, you?

Going along. Do you know Howard Malloy, Lenny?

Leonard Lyons, Howard.

How do you do? - How are you?

We're in a hurry, Lenny, bye. - Nice seeing you.

Who was that? - Bye.

Leonard Lyons, my sweet. He writes the column "The Lyons Den."

Howard, this is too much.

Putting cats on your expense sheet. - One cat.

Thirty-five dollars.

Line of duty, Frank.

You better stick to the obvious accessories.

By the way,

somebody sprung your little gunman friend this morning.

What? I ordered him held without bail.

Not on those charges. - We should've made some up.

You should have, but you've been busy in nightclubs and pet shops.

You're making a fool out of yourself and the whole department.

Howard, you must stop seeing this Whitfield girl.

Playboy prosecutor. - I'm seeing her this afternoon, Frank.

In about an hour. - Yes.

In pink tights and on a high-wire in front of City Hall, I suppose.

No.

In her apartment.

It has to stop.

There has to be an end to it right away.

Do you understand there must be an end to the whole thing this afternoon.

We can't let it go any further. - What do you mean by "we"?

I mean, those are my instructions, and I agree with them.

You're full of little shocks and surprises these days.

Yes, so is life.

It's our kind of life, anyway.

I don't get it.

First, I'm told to make sparks with Malloy and I get along fine.

Then told to stop.

Put an end to it. - This afternoon.

How? - I don't care how.

He's coming here. - You know that.

You told me to invite him.

I didn't know whether you reached him or not.

Oh, you're so touchy these days.

What's the matter, my angel, upset again?

Are you afraid things are being found out about you and me?

Take it easy.

I'm talking business now.

I know you are.

Sure, you talk business, my pet.

You do it so rudely.

Just do what you're told! - What else do I ever do?

When Malloy comes, tell him anything you like.

You're going away for a trip,

you're tired of him,

or a husband has come back.

Husband?! - Anything you like!

Just finish it. - What if he doesn't accept it's finished?

Get tough, aggravate him or insult him.

Set him on fire. - Cut it out!

Maybe you better get out of town and really go away for a while.

Take a trip. - Would you miss me?

Like my next breath.

Who would that be?

Probably the man with the dynamite to put under Mr. Malloy.

Please! - Relax.

It's just the man from the liquor store. Malloy likes scotch.

Come on in, Sam.

Milkman! - Hi.

Here's your stuff, Miss Whitfield. Charge it?

Don't I always, Sam? - Sure, miss, I just like to hear you talk.

Next time, Sam.

Now that I'm making headway with our handsome prosecutor,

now I stop, huh?

I'm glad you finally understand what to do.

I know what to do, but I certainly don't understand it.

Don't worry, honey.

Sometimes, we all have to do things we don't understand.

Until afterwards.

Come on, Knuckles, leave our little black friend to Mr. Malloy.

He likes cats too.

What do you mean you're going away?

Is something wrong?

I…

I need a change.

Relaxation, sunshine…

I think I'll go to Florida or someplace.

I've been thinking about getting away for some time.

Away from anything special?

What do you mean?

There comes a time when the wisest thing to do

is to get away.

I don't know what you're talking about. Who would I want to get away from?

Me, maybe.

You?

Maybe.

That's what I said. - All right, I'm tired of you and me.

I don't want any more, and that's that.

There.

You can't escape from me, darling.

Really? I can't?

No.

You're stuck.

You're it.

You're in the wrong conversation.

Who is it you're afraid of? - I'm not afraid of anyone.

All right, if you won't tell me, I'll tell you.

All right.

Tell me then. - There's a hard-eyed little gunman.

He calls himself Miller, other people call him Knuckles.

Then there's an artist with a scrubby beard.

He painted your portrait. His name is Kosterich.

There's another very important person.

He calls himself the Angel.

He's somebody you might want to say goodbye to.

Stop acting like a prosecutor, I don't know these people!

I've never heard of them. - Don't lie to me, Barbara.

Oh, stop it.

I'm trying to help you, to warn you.

When these people finish using you… - Nobody is using me.

They murdered Borg and Riggs.

Heaven only knows what happened to Kosterich.

Siggy? - Yes, he's been missing for three days.

When they're through with you…

You knew what they were up to. Why didn't you stay out of it?

I couldn't stay out of it, they wouldn't let me.

Now that's more like it.

There's no point in lying.

Oh, Howard, hold me, help me!

I can't help you, baby, unless you help me.

We need your evidence.

You stingy double-crossing!

You're using me just like all the rest!

Now look, Barbara. - Why, you…

These people you're mixed up with don't throw things.

They put a bullet in you and push you out of windows.

Let go of me!

You have many questions to answer before we let you go.

No, no!

No, no, no!

No, no, no! - Take it easy, baby.

Take it easy?

Who cares?

Who cares?

Look, baby, I don't want to hurt you. I'm trying to help you.

I'll kill you!

No.

No!

Mr. Malloy.

Mr. Malloy.

Mr. Malloy!

What are you doing here?

The door was open and I came in.

I couldn't see what was happening.

Nothing was happening.

She pushed me, that's all.

I believe she's dead.

Dead?

Barbara.

She was fighting with me.

She's dead.

It's a bullet wound.

Oh.

You…

You killed her. - Please!

I've never killed anyone.

I found the gun in your hand.

Here, take it back.

Barbara was alive when I passed out.

You must have come in here… - No.

Why would I have waited for you to awaken if I did?

Your fingerprints are on this gun. - So are yours.

Yes, but I know I didn't kill her.

No, please.

What are you doing?

I'm calling Homicide. - Wait!

I swear I had nothing to do with this. I swear, I swear!

Then what are you doing here?

When you got mixed up with the Crusaders, you got mixed up with murder.

I didn't intend to get mixed up with them.

It was all because of that woman.

Barbara? - No, not Barbara.

Grace Hartley.

Grace Hartley? - Yes.

She's the one who is behind all this.

She's the one who is their leader.

Can you prove that?

I was painting her portrait.

I was in her library,

and I discovered some papers that I thought interesting and important.

What kind of papers?

There were names and figures.

These Crusaders make money.

These papers told me a lot about where they get the money

and what they do with it.

I took them away with me

for what they were worth.

Blackmail. - Please!

Grace Hartley could help me in my career. She had influence.

She had provided me, among other comforts, with my first one-man show.

It opens tomorrow at the Contemporary Museum.

You told me the first time I met you.

I want to see the papers, where are they? - At the museum.

Yes? - Hidden behind one of my paintings.

They are between the canvas and the backing of the frame.

Please, now you don't believe that I killed Barbara, do you?

Hello, Caroline, is Quigley there?

Grace.

Oh.

I thought you'd gone.

We saw your car outside and decided to wait.

What's going on upstairs?

Never mind, nothing.

Everything, give me your gun.

That doesn't make sense.

It does, give me your gun. - Give her yours.

Where's Malloy?

He's upstairs in the apartment. - What's going on?

I haven't time to talk now.

Don't wait around, dear, you might get into trouble.

Where are you going now? - I have an important call to make.

I'll phone you later.

Bring the car around front.

Let's see what she's up to.

Call Homicide for me, will you?

Barbara Whitfield has been murdered.

Tell them to come to 689 East 57th Street.

Yes, I'm still there, but when the boys get here,

I'll be on my way to the Contemporary Museum

with Sigmund Kosterich.

Got it?

Just a minute.

Just a minute, I'm coming as fast as I can.

I'm sorry, ma'am, we're closed for the night.

I just want to go upstairs to one of the galleries.

I can't let you do that, no visitors after hours.

I was here earlier and I left my purse.

You'll just have to come back in the morning, I've got my orders.

My keys.

It's the watchman.

Yes.

Grace has been busy.

Try to move the body away from the door and back against the wall.

Sure. - In case somebody comes by and looks in.

Where do you suppose she went? - Don't ask me.

There's a light up those stairs.

Let's move. - Yes.

Let's go.

The place is wide open at any hour of the night.

There must be a guard around somewhere.

Do you know where the exhibition is? - Of course, I hung it myself.

Let's go then. - It's this way.

It's in here.

There seems to be somebody in there. - It must be a guard.

Agostini.

Grace Hartley.

She must have heard when I told Malloy.

Oh!

Siggy.

You heard in Barbara's apartment while I told Malloy.

Every word you said.

You killed Barbara.

I knew in the end you would harm her.

As well as anyone else who gets in my way.

I'll take those, Mrs. Hartley.

Are you badly hurt?

No,

I caught her trying to find the papers.

I had to get them.

I was not too quick.

I had no gun.

Where did she get you?

We were the same kind of target for her.

Just under the shoulder.

She killed Barbara.

She was in the apartment,

and she heard me telling you where the papers were.

She killed Barbara.

Malloy, where are you?

In here.

The place looks like the last act of "Hamlet."

It's the last act for all kinds of things.

Brace yourself, Frank.

Grace Hartley.

I'll tell you about it later.

Here's part of it. - All right, Caroline.

Is Caroline here? - He brought her here.

I made her wait out in the corridor, it was noisy in here.

Howard!

Howard!

Howard, come and tell me about all this.

Give me time, we'll put it all together.

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