All language subtitles for Where.the.Sidewalk.Ends.1950.REMASTERED.1080p.BluRay.x264-SADPANDA

13th Precinct, address:

238 Third Avenue.

Cars 1235,
1236 and 78.

Signal 30.

Authority: C.B.
Time: 9:03 PM.

Dispatcher number 79.

Car 905,
call the dispatcher.

KED-394,
Dispatcher 88.

73rd Precinct, address:

171 Hertzel Street.

Cars 1634,

1635 and 89.

Signal: 32.

Auto, out-of-town
license plates.

Operator, interface
with that address.

Authority: C.B.
Time: 9:05 PM.

Station KED-394.

Dispatcher number 79.

Hello, Murphy.
You're late
for the ceremony.

They still up
in the squad room?
Yeah.

Lieutenant Thomas will be
in charge of this precinct

and no one else.

So far as you are concerned,
he has no superiors.

You'll give him
your cooperation

and your obedience.

And I expect this precinct
to maintain its present high record
with the department

under your new lieutenant.

Do you wish to make
any remarks, Lieutenant?

I'll talk to the men
individually.

Good idea.

Dixon, I want to talk to you.
I'll use your office, Thomas.

Yes, sir.
That's all, boys.

Congratulations.
Congratulations.

Good luck, Lieutenant.
Thank you.

Sit down, Dixon.

We've had 12 more
legitimate citizen complaints
against you this month.

For assault and battery.

From who? Hoods, dusters, mugs?
A lot of nickel rats.

You're a big disappointment
to me, Dixon.

You've just seen
a man who started out
at the same time you did

take a big step up
in the department,

which is something
you'll never do unless
you get hold of yourself.

I know what to get hold of, sir.
A little more pull.

Sit still!

You've gotta learn, Dixon,
what's expected of
a police officer and what isn't.

Yes, sir. I'll try to learn
not to hate hoods so much.

You don't hate hoodlums.
You like to beat them up.
You get fun out of it.

You like to read about yourself
in the newspapers

as the tough cop who isn't
afraid to wade in anywhere.

Your job is to detect criminals,
not to punish them.

Is that all, sir?

I'm reducing your rank, Dixon.

You're going back
to second grade.

Any more complaints against you
for cruelty or roughhouse,

and you'll be back in uniform
pounding a beat.

It's no fun telling you this.

You're a good man
with a good brain.

But you're no good to the department
unless you learn to control yourself.

All right, you can go now.

Thank you, sir, for the advice.

Hey, Willie? Willie!

How you feelin',
Willie?

Feelin' fine, thanks.

Don't you think
you better be in bed,
Willie?

Parole rules allow me till 12:00.
I got 20 minutes yet.

How's Mr. Scalise, Willie?

What are you tryin' to do, trap me?

I ain't consortin'
with no questionable characters,
and nobody can prove that I am.

That's a nice boy.
You'd better get to bed.
It's good for you.

Sure.

Who is it?
Willie.

It's my point. Come on.
Eight the hard way.

Two fours.
Seven the loser.

You're very lucky tonight,
Mr. Morrison.

Must be the little lady
brought me luck.

Your dice, Mr. Paine.
Pass.

Your dice, Mr. Morrison.
Okay, I'll shoot 3,000.

I'll take one.
I'll take
500 of it.

I'll take the rest.
You're covered.

Hello.
Care to join our game,
Mr. Bender?

Sure, sure.
How are things?

- Oh, fine.
- Six.

Bumped into a couple
of old friends of ours.

Dixon and Klein.
They asked about you.

But I think they're
too busy to drop in.
Too bad.

All right. Come on, dice.
Give it to me. A six right back.

Here we go! Six!
Ten.

Mr. Morrison is from Texas.
He's very rich.

Here, you breathe on 'em.

Oh, that'll do it.
Now you got Lady Luck
ridin' with you, dice.

This is it! A six!
Give it to me!

There it is! A six!

And getting richer.
Six is my lucky number.

I'll shoot
the whole 6,000.

You taking any, gentlemen?

A grand.
Same here.

Four open.

You're covered, Mr. Morrison.

I like your friends, Mr. Paine.
Can't get better action
than this in Amarillo.

All right, dice, now we're
goin' for the big money.

Well, what do you know—
a seven!

If you don't mind,
I'd like to go home,
Mr. Morrison.

Morgan.
Ken, you know I have to be
at work at 8:30.

Well, that's right.
You can't keep
a workin' girl up all hours.

Then I'll take you home,
Morgan.

We'll all go together.
I'll get your things.

There you are.

Mr. Morrison?
Yes, sir.

You're 19 grand into us.

Well, that's all right.
You'll get it back
some other night.

I ain't leavin' town
for a week.

Tell him you changed your mind.
You want to stay.

No, Ken. I told you I could
only stay until midnight.

But you can't do this to me.
I'm not doing
anything to you.

I brought him here.

Oh. So that's it.

Yes, that's it.
And you're foulin' me up again.

That's all you ever do
is foul me up!

You're telling him to stay!

No, I'm not.
Why, you—

Morgan.

You heel!

16th Precinct, address:
43rd Street Hotel,

372-C West 43rd Street.

Cars 618, 619 and 12,
proceed immediately.

That's us.

Hello, Sergeant.
Hi.

Foley.
Hi, Sarge.

Hi.

Vice joint, huh?
Yeah. A floater.

Get his name?
Morrison.
Big barracuda.

He was DOA.
Knife cut his heart in half.

Nobody did it.
Nobody saw it.

There's a cut
on his hand.

Yeah, he hit somebody hard.
Who runs this parlor?

Tommy Scalise.
He's in there.
Oh, that's nice.

Our dream boy finally
stepped into something, huh?
I've been waiting quite a while.

Should've gone home to bed,
Willie, like you were told.

You'd be asleep now,
with no parole troubles.

I live in this hotel.
I just dropped in
for a cigarette.

How do you do, Mr. Scalise?

Where did you hide the knife,
dream boy?

Go easy, Dixon.
Keep your hands off me.

Talk.
Wise up, Mr. Dixon.

You made a monkey
of yourself two years ago,
tryin' to hang somethin' on me.

Who killed him—
you or one of your playmates?

You find a corpse,
and right away I'm a killer.

You've been a killer
for a long time.
Have I?

As I remember it,
the jury found me innocent.

And they weren't out
more than 15 minutes.

You're still a killer.

What are you always
tryin' to push me
in the gutter for?

I got as much right
on the sidewalk as you have.

Don't talk to me about rights.
You're a hood and a murderer.

You're a pretty smart rat, Scalise,
but this is your off night.

What are you always
jumpin' after me for, Dixon?

Four years, jumpin' after me
like I was somebody special.

Why?
That's right. Getting you
is a special job of mine.

I can't figure you out.
Your father liked me—
Shut up!

Hello, Lieutenant.

Find anything, Dixon?

I've been waiting to tell you
what happened, Lieutenant.

Take them outside.
We'll question them later.

Congratulations
on your promotion, Lieutenant.

Okay, okay, let's have it.

Mr. Morrison was brought here
by a fellow named Ken Paine.

Sort of an acquaintance of mine.

There was a girl with him.
I, uh, didn't quite get her name.

A Morgan something.

Mr. Morrison wanted
a little friendly play.

How much did he win?

He didn't win.
He lost.

You're lying, Scalise.
Let's hear his story
first, Dixon.

He lost a grand or so,
but he didn't care.

He was makin' a play
for this girl,
showin' his stuff.

Paine was jealous.

He hit the girl first,
smacked her hard in the face,
and she ran out.

Then Morrison tackled Paine.

Morrison pulled a gun,

but Paine had him
so he couldn't shoot, and they
wrestled into the bedroom.

Before I could call the cops,
Paine came out.

He didn't say anything.
Just left.

Then Morrison came out
and fell on the floor.

He was dead
when I got to him.

What did you do
with the knife?

There wasn't any weapon.
Paine must've taken it along.

You're lying, Scalise.
Let me handle him, Lieutenant.

What is Paine's address?
I don't know.

K. Paine, 58 Pike Street,
Chelsea 3-2099.

Another telephone number:
Murray Hill 5-9970.
What's that?

A pool room
on Third Avenue.

I'm sure you won't have
any trouble picking him up.
He was blind.

All neat and ready
with a fall guy, huh?

Let me handle him,
Lieutenant.
Go after Paine, Dixon.

Come on, Paul.

Keep the change.

...I-S-O-N.

Yeah, Ted Morrison.
Kenneth Paine calling.

Don't answer?
Maybe he's in the bar.
Have him paged.

But I gotta talk to him.
It's important.

Tryin' to get Ted Morrison
on the phone, huh?

Who are you?

Detective Dixon, 16th Squad.

Get out.

Maybe he's tryin'
to win his money back.

Don't give me that.
He was cleanin' up.

How much?
And he's gotta cut me in.

After what you did to him?

He started it.
It's all among friends.

Hello? What? He isn't?

Well, look, Kenneth Paine
wants him to call
as soon as he comes in.

Yeah, that's right.

I said get out.
I don't like cops.

Ted Morrison is not
gonna call you back, Paine.

Nobody asked you.

Somebody sunk a knife
into Morrison. He's dead.

Dead? You're lyin'.

Scalise is trying to frame you.
Says you knifed him.

Go home.

Look, I'm tryin' to help you, Paine.
Scalise and his boys
are hanging a murder on you.

They knocked him off
to get their dough back
after you left. Come on.

Go on!
No cop's gonna touch me!

Stand up alone then.
I'll stand up when I want to.

Get outta here.

Get out!

Okay, buddy.
Come on. Let's go.

Come on.

Hello?
Hello, Mark?

Oh, hello, Paul.
Did you find him?

Mark? Mark?

Hello? Hello?

Operator,
there's a bad connection.
Get this line cleared.

Mark, can you hear me?
Yeah.

I picked up some stuff on him
I thought you oughta hear.
Go easy on him. He's a war hero.

Got a hat full of medals
and a lot of newspaper friends.

When he first got out of the service,
he wrote a syndicated column.

I thought I'd tell you
so you don't muss him up
if you run into him.

Gonna wait there for him?

Yeah, I'll stick around
in case he shows up.

So long.

Will you send a cab
to 58 Pike Street, please.

Did you call a cab?
No, not me.

Pennsylvania Station, please.
Yes, sir.

A ticket to Pittsburgh,
the first train out.

Seventeen dollars
and eight cents.

Hello, Paul. I covered
a few bars in the neighborhood.

I just got here.
See this?

Slipped in and out
after I was here.

Probably watching you.

Nice piece of luck for me.

You can't be everywhere.

Took all his stuff
out of his closet kinda quick.

Left his uniform and one shoe.

There's another closet.

Nothing in there.
It's empty.

Maybe somebody saw him get away.
There's an old lady
in the window downstairs.

We're from the police.
We'd like to talk to you.

What do you want?

How long have you
been sitting here?

Since after dinner.
I always sit here at night.

Do you know
Kenneth Paine?
Oh, yes, I know him.

Have you seen
him tonight?
Yes. He left in a taxi.

When?
I don't know.

When you get old like me,
you don't care what time it is.

Approximately
how long ago?

About 20 minutes, I think.
The taxi man woke me up.

Everybody wakes me up tonight.
Usually I can sleep here.

I always sleep here
since my husband died.

It seems less lonely.
Music helps me.

Thank you, madam.
Come on, Paul.

That's all.
Thank you, ma'am.

He's running for it, huh?
We'll get him.

You cover the Yellow Cab stand.
See if you can pick up the driver.

I'll cover all
the independent garages.
Okay.

Paine! Open up!
I know you're in there!

Open up, you dirty rat!
Open—

Where's the lieutenant?
Sign this.
He's in there.

Right.
Lieutenant?

Yes?
We got a break on this.

One of the porters saw Paine
stick it in a locker.
Oh, good.

Here's the cab driver's
statement.

"Picked up a fare
at 58 Pike Street around 1:10."

Is that right?
That's right.

Do you recognize
this bag?

Yeah, the guy was carryin' it
when he came out of the house.

I noticed the name.
Kenneth something.

Yeah, Kenneth Paine.

He had a bandage
under one eye, huh?

Yeah, piece of tape.
Which eye?

Under the... left eye, like this.

Under the left eye.

Thanks. You can go.
We know where to get you.

Looks like we have a definite line
on Paine, Lieutenant.

A ticket agent at Penn Station
remembers selling him
a ticket to Pittsburgh.

Evidently trying
to throw us off.

He's probably holed up
in town somewhere.

No line on the girl yet,
Lieutenant.
Well, keep calling, Vincent.

Scalise thinks she was
either an actress or a model.

Call the agencies on both
as soon as they open in the morning.

Okay.

Call C.B. and have them
Teletype Paine's description
to Pittsburgh.

Dixon, take yourself a rest.
You too, Klein.

- Then get busy on the hotels.
- Communication, please.

I'm going home
for a couple of hours.

Knock off, Casey,
and then report back at 8:00.

Good night, boys.

Teletype the following
description to Pittsburgh.

Age about 36.
Give me Communication.

Complexion dark.
Height 6'1",
weight 180 pounds.

Hair dark, build average.

You look beat, Mark.
Don't you feel good?

Hey, Mark, you awake?

Yeah.
We got a line
on the girl.

Her name is Morgan Taylor.
Lives up in Washington Heights.
I got her phone number.

What is it?
Bosworth 3-5098.

Bosworth 3-5098.

All right, all right.
Way till I get there.

- Hello?
- Does Miss Morgan Taylor live there?

Yeah, she lives here.

No, she ain't in now.
She's gone to work.
Who's calling?

Never mind.
I'll call her later.

She's gone to work. Have you
got her employment address?

Here it is.

Friedman and Lyon,
525 Eighth Avenue.

Very nice. But too high-styled
for my customers.

Maybe we could make
a little bolero, Oleg.

Well, I'll sketch it.

Mm, I'm not sure.
I'll let you know when
I send the order in.

Thank you, Morgan.

It's all right with me.
We have more orders than
we can fill on this number.

Did they notice it?
I don't think so.

Come here.
Let me see it in the light.

It still shows a little.

I better put
some more pancake on it.

You know, Morgan,
it's your own fault.
Hold that.

You keep thinking of him
as a glamour boy.

You won't see him for what he is,
which is definitely a jerk.

So he won the war
and freed the slaves.

Does that entitle him
to spend the rest of his life

drinking barrels of whiskey
and punching girls in the nose?

Don't worry.

I'm not going
to see him anymore.
You said that before.

So he rolls his alcoholic eyes at you,
and you set yourself up
for another left hook.

You can't help him,
Morgan.

I guess you're right.

There's someone
to see you, Miss Taylor.
Oh, tell him to drop dead.

It's important.
Mr. Friedman said to come
to the office right away.

Miss Taylor,
this is Mr. Dixon and Mr. Klein.

They are police detectives.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Would you sit down, please,
Miss Taylor.

We'd like to ask you
a few questions.

What would you like to know?

You were with Kenneth Paine
last night?

Yes.
You were at a so-called
floating crap game

in the apartment
of a man named Scalise
at the 43rd Street Hotel.

Is that right?
Yes.

Have you been in touch
with Paine this morning?
No.

Have you any idea
where he might be?
No, I haven't.

From what we hear,
you're pretty well
acquainted with Paine.

Yes.
How well?
Tell us, please.

I'm his wife.
Is that so?

But, uh, you're living
with your father,
we understand.

Ken and I separated
three months ago.

What happened at Scalise's
while you were there?

May I know why you're
asking me all these questions?

We'd rather
tell you afterward,
if you don't mind.

Well, Kenneth was drinking,
and we had a quarrel.

I understand he hit you.

Yes.

Did you see him
hit Morrison?
No, I didn't. I left.

Where'd you go?
Home.

Take a taxi?

No. I met my father at his stand
a block from the hotel.

He's a taxi driver.
He drove me to the subway.

Did you hear from Paine
after you got home?
Yes, he telephoned.

What'd he say?
I don't know.
I hung up.

What time was that?
About 12:30.

Did he call from his house?
No.

How do you know, if you hung up
without talking to him?

Because my father
went down to Ken's place
after he dropped me.

- What for?
- Really, is this necessary?

We think so, Miss Taylor.

Well, I— I didn't
want to tell him anything.

But I was crying,
and he noticed the bruise.

What'd he say?
He was very angry.
He told me before that—

That what?

Well, that if Ken ever hit me again,
he'd beat his head off.

Morrison was killed last night.

No.

At Scalise's place,
shortly after you left.

He was killed with a knife.

And you're looking for Ken
because you think he did it?

When did your husband
start getting jealous of Mr. Morrison?

Jealous? That's silly.

Mr. Morrison was somebody
I hardly knew.

But you went out with him.
No, Ken called me up
and asked me out to dinner.

You just said you were
separated from your husband.

Yes, but he kept insisting,
and I felt sorry for him.

When I got to the restaurant,
he had Mr. Morrison with him.

Then after dinner,
Ken took us to this gambling place.

And then I realized
all he wanted to see me for

was to use me as a sort of decoy
to help get Mr. Morrison to go there.

That was sinking pretty low, I thought.

Poor Ken. He must be
desperate for money.

- Why did Paine hit you?
- Because I wanted to go home.

He didn't want
Mr. Morrison to leave.

Because Morrison
was winning?
Yes.

How much was he ahead?
A great deal.

I think they said
about 19,000.

Thank you for the information.
We won't bother you any longer.

Hi!

Well, hi. How are you?

- Hello, Jack.
- Hello, Morgan.

Night-night, Mary.
See you around.
Night.

Miss Taylor.

Hello.
Good evening.

I'd like to talk to you.
Have you found Ken?

No.
You think I know where
he's hiding and won't tell.

Where are you going now?
Home.

Would you mind if I came along?

That's a nice way of putting it
when you're out to give me
the third degree.

This is no third degree.
This is strictly off the record.

Have you come to nab me
as a gambling house habitué?

I'm not really. I've never been
in one of those places before.

Are you— Are you having
dinner with anyone?

You inviting me?
Yes.

I take that subway there.
It'll take me a few minutes to change.

That's good enough.

Hey, Dad. You home?
I'm cookin'.

There's company.
Paine?

No.

This is my father,
Mr. Dixon.

Mark Dixon.
Glad to know you.

You don't remember me, huh?
I'm Jiggs Taylor.

I'm sorry.
I don't recall.

Excuse me.
I'll get ready.

Well, sit down.
I'll tell you about it.

It's 2:00 AM.
I'm cruisin' through Central Park.

There's a blizzard goin' on.

A detective jumps in my cab and says,
"Follow that black sedan.
It's full of thieves."

So I give her the gas.

Here. Here's the diploma
the mayor gave me.

"For aiding Detective Mark Dixon
in a time of danger."

Oh, yes. Six years ago.

Say, Dad,
let's hear about how they opened fire
and riddled your cab with bullets.

Well, Mark can tell you himself.
Can't you, Mark?

Yes, there were
a few shots fired,
as I remember.

A few shots? Dad always claimed
it was a bigger battle
than the Argonne.

That's the trouble
with the new generation—
no respect.

How about a drink, Mark?
No, thanks.

On duty, huh?

I suppose you're workin'
on that Morrison killing.

That's right.
Cigarette?

Thanks.

Any other suspects
besides Ken?

That fella Scalise, huh?
I've heard about him.

The department thinks
he's clean on that job.

He's been released on bail
on a gambling charge only.

But you got
your own ideas, huh?

In the first place,
he lied about Morrison being a loser
when the game broke up.

Your daughter says
he was about 19,000 ahead.

It looks like a cinch
he's the guy!

I wouldn't tell a lot of people
about going up to Paine's place
last night to beat him up.

I don't care how many people hear it.
He's had it coming to him for some time.

Oh, Dad, please.
Mr. Dixon isn't interested
in my life story.

I ask you, what would you do
if you had a son-in-law like that?

You know, it is a lucky thing
I didn't find him in last night.

I'd have—

Oh, I forgot to ask you.
I've been so excited
over meetin' you again.

How about some chow?
I got enough for three.

No, Dad.
We're going out.

Well, we could
talk over old times.

I'll be seeing you, Mr. Taylor.
Nice meeting you again.

Well, at least I'm glad
she's goin' out with somebody

who ain't gonna land her
up to her neck in crooks.

You're horrible, Dad.

Good night.
Good night, honey.

Have fun, kids.

Good evening, Mr. Detective.
Where you been hangin' out?

Hello, Martha.
Good evening.

How do you do?

You know,
I like places like this

that specialize in good food
instead of headwaiters.

It's the worst food
in town.

But don't worry.
They usually serve a stomach pump
with the dessert.

Who invited you to come
to my restaurant, Mr. Detective?

Not me.
Martha's the head
of a ring of burglars.

My presence
makes her nervous.

Yeah, last night we got
a whole basket full of diamonds.
You wanna see?

Bring us two of your
dangerous dinners, Martha.

You know how much I've been
offered to poison this man?
Ten dollars.

That's right.
I'm holdin' out for 15.

Two dinners.
Do you want wine?

Bring a small bottle.
Huh. Same old cheapskate.

She adores you,
doesn't she?

She ought to.
I sent her husband up.
Was he really a burglar?

Wife beater.
Oh, she's wonderful.

But she's under wraps tonight
on account of you.

I don't usually eat here with a dame.
Oh, I mean—

Dame's all right.
I imagine you bring your wife here.

There's no such animal.
Oh? My dad told me
you were married.

Your dad is not a reliable
source of information.

You're quite right.
I never knew anybody
who tells so many lies.

He does it for fun though.
He's always driving kings
and queens or movie stars

and overhearing
the most amazing conversations.

Like your dad, huh?
Crazy about him.

I hope you come here often,
young lady.

For five years,
this man sits in my restaurant,
frightenin' everybody away.

A detective in the window.
You can imagine
how people wanna come in.

But now,
with a beautiful lady,
he looks almost human.

How's the soup?
Horrible.

It's very good.
Thanks.
Eat all you want.

Have you been trying
to get in touch with Paine?

No. I don't quite
know what to do.

When were you married?
After he came back
from the war.

But we knew each other
before that.

You said this morning
you were separated.

Three months ago.
Why?

It's hard to say
why you leave a man

or why you
stop loving him.

I always blamed Ken,
but I guess it was
my fault too—

not understanding
what made him seem
so mean and impossible.

I guess the chief thing
wrong with Ken was no job.

And lots of pride.
Too much pride.

A man can usually
find work if he wants to.

You're worried about me
feeling badly because he's going
to be arrested, aren't you?

Something like that.

I think I'll stick by him
if he is.

He'll need me.
I owe it to him.

You still love him, huh,
in spite of everything?

No.
It isn't love anymore.

Mr. Detective, telephone!

Excuse me.
That must be my partner.

Probably wants to know
what I'm eating.

Dixon speaking.

Been tryin' to get you
for an hour, Mark.
Big doings. We found Paine.

Where did you find him?

River watchman reported
to the 6th Precinct down here
that somebody slugged him last night.

He just punched his clock
at 3:00 AM.

We sent a couple of men
over to talk to him,

but they couldn't make head
or tail of the slugging—
nothing stolen, nothing missing

till the watchman
remembered the man
held something like a body.

We started dragging the river
and brought up Paine
a half hour ago.

Who's that?
Mark.

Mark? Thomas.
We found Paine in the river
with his skull cracked.

We'll meet you
at his apartment
in 15 minutes. Be there.

Okay, Lieutenant.

What's the matter?
You look sick.
Give me the check.

You gotta leave the beautiful girl
just when she's beginning to like you.

That's what you get
for bein' a detective.

No fun. Always chasin'
the wrong people.

Did something happen?
I've gotta go out on a job.

Please finish your dinner.
It's really very nice.

Best chicken and rice
in town.
I'm sorry you have to leave.

Thanks.
So long.

Bye.
Good night.

You like him, huh?

I think he's very nice.
I'm glad.

You know what that
fellow needs? A family.

He's got nobody.
All he thinks of
day and night is his job.

He grabs himself
a dizzy blonde once in a while,
but that's no life.

A fellow like him oughta be
married to a beautiful girl.

Have a home, kids and—
You're wasting
your propaganda, Martha.

I'm married.
Buzzin' a married woman.

Wait till I see that dope again.

You got it?
It's blood all right.

Quite fresh.
I'd say not more than 24 hours.

Get it to the lab
right away.
Okay.

That clinches it.
Paine was killed in his room.

Somebody came in there
and slugged him.

He bumped his head
on the floor when he fell.

He had a silver plate in his head
as a result of a shrapnel wound
in the war.

The fall must've killed him.
I buy that, Lieutenant.

The killer tried to get the body out,
but he was surprised by someone.

Probably Dixon when he
came through the front door.

He ducked behind the staircase here
and hid the body.

That's the reason for
the blood stain on the wall.

If it is Paine's blood.

We'll get
the lab report
shortly.

Now, we can establish
the time of the killing

as between 12:30, when
Paine must've got here,

and 3:00 AM,
when the killer knocked out
the watchman on the pier.

Hello, Dixon.

You know Mr. Gilruth
from the DA.'s office.

Sure. How are ya?
Hello.

A lot of fancy footwork
you did last night, Dixon—
you and Mr. Paine.

That couldn't be helped,
Lieutenant.

I can't understand
how you didn't see him.

You came in here at 12:50.
Klein talked to you on the phone.

That's right.
Paine came in and packed
and got out at 1:10.

That's when the taxi
picked him up.

So you must have practically
passed each other.

Well, he wasn't here,
so I thought he might be
doing some drinking.

I had a look in a couple of bars.

That's a queer way to figure—
a guy on the lam is going to
be sitting around bars.

What time did Dixon
come back here?
About 1:50.

You left again right after that?
That's right.
We started chasing Paine.

It's obvious.

He lays a fake trail,
he goes to the Pennsylvania Station,

and then he decides to
come back and hide in his own apartment.

He figures the police
have been there, and they
won't come looking again.

What time did Jiggs Taylor
say he was here?

About 2:15.
That pretty well
puts the finger on him, I'd say.

Yeah, and he came
down here crazy angry,
according to his daughter,

ready to knock
Paine's block off.

You're wasting your time
on Taylor.
How is that, Dixon?

It looks completely definite—
motive, opportunity.

Scalise did it.
I don't see that
at all, Dixon.

I'm telling you,
Scalise knifed Morrison.

Then he was afraid Paine
would go to the police with it,

so he sent someone after him
to finish him off.

That doesn't stand up.

Whoever killed Paine
killed him by accident.

He only meant to slug him.

A Scalise hood would've taken
no chances on a rumpus.
He'd have knifed or shot him.

Yes, Benson?
We've got Jiggs Taylor
and his daughter outside.

Bring them in, Harrington.
Has he been talking?

A mile a minute.
You'd think he was going to a picnic.

I think we can
wrap the case up tonight
with statements from both of them.

I'm Lt. Thomas.
How do you do?

How are you doin',
Lieutenant?

I was expectin' this.

As I told the boys
on the way down,

the minute I heard Ken was murdered,
I knew I was in for a going over,

havin' been
at the scene of the crime.

You were already for us
with your story, huh?

Won't take long.
Save you a lot of time.

Give it to you
without you having to pump me—
everything that happened.

I came down here
last night around 2:15,

lookin' for my son-in-law.

You were
pretty worked up, huh?

I'll say.

I told him last month if he ever
laid a hand on Morgan again,
I'd slap him silly.

Go on. Go on.
Let's have it all, Jiggs.

Well, that's all there was.

The door was unlocked.

I walk in, look around,
nobody home, so I walk out.

With his body?

Whose body?
Paine's.

That's sure smart figurin',
Lieutenant.

I tell you all—
Never mind the lies, Jiggs.

We've got
every one of your moves.

You took the body to the river,
knocked out the watchman
and dropped Paine in the water.

Oh, so I knocked out
a watchman too, huh?

That's fine.

Okay, now let me tell you somethin'.
I didn't see Paine.

If I had seen him,
I'd have taken a poke at him.

I ain't denyin' that.
He deserved it.

But I left this place
two minutes after I got here,

and I picked up a fare
three minutes later on the corner.

Congressman Reynolds.
Took him up to the Astor Hotel.

Told me—
Check on that, Klein.

- Yes, sir.
- Sure, check.

Check all you want.

And what time do you claim
you got to the Astor Hotel, Jiggs?

Around 2:40.
Anybody see you
around there?

Yeah. Uh, Pat Rafferty
and Haime Berg.
They're taxi drivers.

The congressman
doesn't answer in his room.
Want me to run him down?

No. No, we'll check later.

The pier watchman
was slugged at 3:00 AM,
according to the report.

Is that right?
Mm-hmm, yes.

That gives
Jiggs Taylor 20 minutes
between 2:40 and 3:00

to come back here
from the Astor Hotel
and do his stuff.

He couldn't have come back here
from the Astor, killed Paine,

lugged the body out to the car,
driven down to the pier

and slugged
the night watchman by 3:00.

Couldn't have done
all that in 20 minutes.

It looks like we're
on the wrong man, Lieutenant,

especially if the congressman
backs up his story.

It's not the wrong man.
If Paine was already dead
at 2:15,

and Taylor came and got the body
at that time and stuck it in the
back compartment of his car—

Well, that's screwy!
I told you I picked up
Congressman Reynolds.

Sure, you did.

But you were on the way to the river
to dump Paine's body
when Reynolds hailed you.

He took him to the hotel.

Twenty minutes
was time enough
to scoot back the pier,

slug the watchman at 3:00 AM
and drop Paine's body.

Paine was out of here at 1:10,
according to the old lady downstairs.
We're just wasting time, Lieutenant.

I don't think so, Dixon.

Bring them along.

Did you see anybody coming
out of that building

carrying something
over his shoulder?

Like a large bundle?
I didn't see
anything like that.

I'll take over, Casey.
She says she didn't
notice anyone—

Never mind.

I'm going to ask you
a very important question,
Mrs. Tribaum.

Are you sure
it was Kenneth Paine
you saw leaving this house at 1:10?

Of course I'm sure.
I never heard so many
foolish questions.

I'm going to try
a little experiment,
Mrs. Tribaum.

Taylor, I want you to put on
this raincoat and hat.

What for?

Put adhesive tape
under his eye, somebody,
to match Paine's description.

Oh, no, wait a second!
What's all this for?

Now, don't act dumb, Taylor.
It won't get you anywhere.

Last night,
you put on Paine's coat and hat

and carried his bag
out of here at 1:10

after you'd killed him
and stuck his body away somewhere.

Do you wanna come clean now, Jiggs?

Well, I told you the truth.

Then put the coat on.
Don't do it, Dad.

They have no right
to ask you to do that.

No, I won't. I ain't goin' in
for any of these monkey shines.

All right.
Dixon, you're about his build.
Put the hat and coat on.

Oh, that's comic strip stuff,
Lieutenant.

The lady said she saw
Paine leave here last night.

Sure, I did.
I saw Mr. Paine out of the window.

No, you saw a raincoat,
a hat and a bag.

Go ahead, Dixon.

Anybody got
some adhesive tape?
Here.

Under the left eye.

Mrs. Tribaum,
did he walk straight to the car,
or did he look down at you?

He looked down.
Dixon, take the bag.

Just walk to the car
and look down once.

Now, is this
where you were sitting?

No, I was standing here
closing the window.

A taxi driver had asked me
if I'd called a cab.

Are you sure you could
recognize a face at that distance,
Mrs. Tribaum?

I can tell that fellow
isn't Mr. Paine.

Can you distinguish
his face in this light?

No, but I can tell
by something else.

It isn't Mr. Paine.

- By what?
- He didn't wave at me.

Did Mr. Paine
always wave at you?
Always.

He went like this.

What about last night?
Did he wave at you last night?

Do you remember?

Yes, I remember.

He didn't wave last night.

You're right.
It wasn't Mr. Paine.

No, never.
He would have waved.

Thank you, Mrs. Tribaum.

That's it, boys.
Take him to the station
and book him.

Well, you're kidding.
Nobody's kidding,
Taylor.

You thought you were pretty fancy
walking off as Paine at 1:10.

Then you came and got
the dead body at 2:15

and dropped Congressman Reynolds
at the Astor at 2:40

and hurried it
back to the pier.

Well, that's screwy!
I tell you, I—
Take him along, boys.

I'd like to talk
to my father.
Go ahead.

May I talk to him alone?
Can't be done.
He's under arrest.

Dad, please.
Did you see Ken last night?

So help me.

I swear by your ma I never saw him
or laid a hand on him.

I believe you.

Take Miss Taylor home, Casey.
We're knocking off for tonight.

I'd rather go alone,
if I may.

I've been looking for you
for an hour, Mark.

Scotch and water, Bill.

You gotta hand it to Thomas.
He wrapped this one up quick.

His first job too.
I didn't think he had it in him.

Stop talking like an idiot.
He bungled it.

Oh, wait a minute, Mark.
That ain't fair.

Don't tell me what's fair.
I know. Scalise did it.

Scalise did both jobs—
Morrison and Paine.

You can't go against
the facts, Mark.

I'll bet Jiggs Taylor'll
confess the whole job
in a day or two.

See you later.
Where are you going?

I'm going to get it out of Scalise.

Wait a minute, Mark.
You're not on that end of it.

You know the boss's orders.
He's got a plant on Scalise.
Let me go.

Look, Mark, I'm gonna
give it to you straight,
like a friend.

I don't like to see you
made a monkey of
by a girl with a pretty face.

You got a record to protect.

You're as dumb as Thomas.

Come on. I'll drive you home.
You're driving me nowhere,
you dumb lug.

You stick with your boss
and his orders.

You let me go, or I'll paste you.

We're closed for the night.

Scalise in here?
I'll go and see.

Don't bother.

Get your clothes on,
Scalise.

When I'm ready,
Mr. Dixon.

Hey, cut that out.

Okay, Steve.

I warn you not to touch me.

Why? You don't seem to be
carrying a knife at the moment.

We found the one
you used on Morrison.

That's a lie.
Is it?

It's always a pleasure
to watch a cop four-flushing.

I don't like rats
to grin at me.

That's too bad.

Maybe I'd better show you
my hand, dream boy.

Tonight I'm not kidding, Scalise.
You're gonna talk.

We found out Morrison
had you for about 20 grand
and wanted to leave.

So you knifed him.

Then you got worried
about Kenneth Paine sobering up
and telling about what happened,

so you sent one of your mugs
down to his place
to knock him off.

You trying
to frame me for Paine?

You killed Morrison,
and you killed Paine,

and I'm going to get
a statement out of you.

Outside, you lugs.
He's gonna talk.

And talk to me alone.

Go on, I said, outside.

Okay, Steve.

Joe! Ernie!

Better have
a look out front, Kramer.
Yeah.

Get your coats.

I oughta finish the job.
This guy's gonna keep after me.

Wouldn't be smart.
They'd put on too much heat
for a dead cop.

They still out there?
They're still there.

Both of them?
Both of them.

I can't make up my mind.
Don't.

All right, have it your way.
Let's go.

Get the keys, Steve.

Yes?
Mark Dixon.

If you don't mind,
I'd like to talk to you, Miss Taylor.

What's the matter?
You're hurt.

I could use a drink.

Where the devil am I?

I keep coming and going.

I don't know why I came here.

I'll go now.

You can't leave like this.

Why did I come here?

I must have had
something on my mind.

What happened to you?

A run-in with Scalise and his pals.

Shouldn't I call the police?

Let's leave the police out of this.

I made a big idiot
out of myself tonight.

Bigger than usual.

Did I bungle this one.

I'll fix your head.
Come with me.

I suggest you use an ax.

Here.
Come and sit down.

What did they hit you with?

Various objects.

Why did you fight
with Scalise?

Did it have anything
to do with my dad?

In a way, yes.

You don't think Dad did it?

You don't think
he's guilty, do you?

What I think doesn't matter
a row of nickels.

The most important thing
is that you need a lawyer.

That's what I came here for.
You need a big-time lawyer.

Here, hold this.

One that can't lose.

But if Dad's innocent—
That doesn't always help.

Innocent people
can get into terrible jams too.

One false move,
and you're in over your head.

How much money have you got—
you and your father— for a lawyer?

None.
No savings?

No.

Paine got him, huh?

Yes.

Thanks for the facial.

I feel a lot better now.

You go on back to bed.

I'll be back in the morning
about 8:30.

You wait here for me.

You're not fooling me.
You do believe Dad didn't kill him.

Your dad never touched him.
Good night.

Good night.

I'm sorry to wake you up, Paul.
I won't stay but a minute.

I need some dough.

Who stuck his finger in your eye?

I've got 700 in the bank.

That leaves me 300 shy.

It's for a lawyer.

I thought
you wouldn't mind kicking in.

I wanna get Norman Ackerman
to handle the Taylor case.

He never lost
a murder verdict in his life.

But you gotta slap down
one grand, minimum.

Be right with you.

Who is it, Paul?

Mark.

He wants 300 bucks.
For what?

For a lawyer for his girl.
Since when does
that gorilla-head got a g—

Shh!

Please, Shirley, don't argue.

After the way he treated you,
to have the nerve to come here
and ask for m—

I told you!
No arguments, please.

You told me you were
never gonna talk to him again.

I don't know, Shirley.

Sometimes, you really get me sore
with this kind of nagging.

Three hundred dollars

for a man you were gonna
punch in the jaw
the next time you saw him.

I—

Yeah.

Take them to
the Acme Loan this time.
You'll get more.

Who knows? I might even
get to wear them someday.

- Yes?
- Detective Dixon
is here with a young lady.

Have them come in.
Send off that cable, Mary.

I'll call you later.

Hello, Mark.

Hello, Jerry.
Well, what happened to you?

I'm just fine.
Oh, Mr. Morris,
this is Miss Taylor.

How do you do?
How do you do, Miss Taylor?
Sit down.

Thank you.
Jerry, I understand
Ackerman's out of town.

When do you expect him back?
He's in Washington.

He's due back
around 5:00 this afternoon.

I'd like to make
an appointment with him
for Miss Taylor.

Her father's involved
in the Paine-Morrison case.

I read about it.
Thought you were on it, Mark.

I am.
That's why I'm here.

I like stiff competition.

Here's your retainer
for Miss Taylor's father.
It's $1,000.

I'll hold it.
Come in around 5:30.

Mr. Ackerman will see you,
Miss Taylor.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

I never heard
of anything so generous—
what you just did.

Well, my partner kicked in too.

You're an amazing man.

You know something?
I could kiss you right here.

I'll take a rain check on that.

I'll give you an alibi for your boss.

Tell him you're late
because the police questioned you.

Mr. Friedman
has dispensed of my services.

I'm the notorious Miss Morgan Taylor.

Bad for buyers. Might take their minds
off Mr. Friedman's creations.

That mug!
I'll run him in.

I bet you would.

All right.
Good-bye.

There's a phone call for you,
Mr. Detective.
Do you wanna answer it?

No, I'm busy.
That's what I thought.
I told him you weren't here.

It's wonderful the way
he looks at you.

He didn't even eat his ravioli.

He just eats you up with his eyes
because you're so beautiful.

Cut it out.
What's the matter?
I'm tryin' to help you.

You don't know how to make love,
so I'm makin' love for you.

Bye-bye, Martha.
Bye.

Bye.

It's a wonderful day.

No job, everybody against me,

my poor dad sitting in a cell.

And it's a wonderful day.
Isn't that amazing?

- Hey, Mark?
- Excuse me a minute.

Hello, Mike.
There's a forthwith out for you.
Where you been hidin'?

What's up?
The skipper's chewin'
on the telephone. Come on.

Do you mind going up
to see Ackerman alone?
It might be better at that.

Then wait for me at my hotel.
230-A East 54th.

I'll be there, Mark.
And thanks for everything.

Let's go.

You wanted to see me,
Inspector?

Come here, you.

Is this one of the men
who beat you up last night?

That was just
a personal affair, sir.

Your personal affairs
seem to be getting in the way
of the department, Dixon.

Take this man out and hold him
as a material witness.

You had no business
going after Scalise.

You were asked not to.
You were told to lay off
by your superior.

I thought I could get
a statement out of him.

Well, you didn't.

And now you've driven Scalise to cover
with your bullheaded tactics.
It'll take us days to find him now.

I'll find him.
You'll find nobody!

I'm not throwing you
out of the department, like I should,

but I'm inviting you to take one week
of your annual vacation,

beginning as of now.

I don't wanna see
or hear of you for a week.

I want you to go someplace
and get hold of yourself.
Yes, sir.

Look at you, all bunged up
like a barrelhouse vag.

First thing you better do
is get your head fixed up,
inside and out.

That's all.
Yes, sir.

He's got a point.

You shouldn't have let Scalise go
until the Morrison job was cleaned up.

It looked certain
that Paine had done it, sir.

Get on this fella Steve.

I've got a hunch he'll sing
if you keep on him.

And try talking to him
like Dixon would.

Yes, sir.

Sit down.

You are going to talk.

You were in that crap game
with Morrison.

Yeah, but I didn't see nothin'.
Listen!

I want straight answers,
and I want them now.

Hello.
Did you see Ackerman?

Yes.

You've been crying.
What happened?

Mr. Ackerman
doesn't want to take the case.

He's too busy.

There are other lawyers.

I'll get in touch
with Bill Cadwell.

He's as good as Ackerman.

It won't help.

It's no different than it was.

You felt all right this afternoon.

I didn't realize how serious it was.

But now I know.

I thought because
Dad was innocent,
nothing could happen to him.

But it will.
It won't.

It's already happened.
He's in jail.

They'll try him,
and he didn't do anything.

Somebody else did it,
and he's got to pay for it.

He won't be tried.
Don't try and fool me.

Ackerman didn't take the case
because he was afraid of losing it.

That means they might find him guilty.

I'm not fooling you.

Nothing is going to
happen to your father.

Why?

You didn't sound so certain before.

Now you're certain.

Because he didn't kill Paine.
But can you prove it?

Yes.
How?

Mark, you know something
you haven't told me.

That's right.

What?

What is it?

I'll tell you.

Please.

Oh, that's not fair—
to stand there without telling me,

even if you have
to break some police rule.

If you know something, Mark—

I can't stand thinking how he feels.

He's never done anything wrong.
You don't know him.

He's sweet. He's always felt
that everybody was his friend.

Now he's in jail, like a criminal.

You don't know what it is
to have your father in trouble.

My father was a thief.

What?

He's dead now.
He died when I was 17,
trying to shoot his way out of jail.

I worked all my life
to try to be different from him.

Mark.

Darling.

You'd better go home.

Why, Mark?

Because you're a sucker for wrong guys,
like Ken and me.

You're not wrong.

I trust you with my whole heart.

I'm glad you told me
about your father.

You're not like him. I know it.

Thanks.

I've figured out what to do
about your dad.

What?

Don't ask any questions.
I've got to do things a certain way.

You look tired.
Get some sleep.

Thanks.
I'm not afraid anymore.

Everything's going to be
all right, isn't it?

Sure.
It'll turn out all right.

So long.
I'll wait here for you.

Okay, Mac.
You oughta be more delicate,
Mr. Dixon.

I almost hit my head on the door.

That's okay, Willie.
The cab's insured.

I wasn't doin' nothin', Mr. Dixon.
I was just standin' there readin' my paper.

I'm not interested
in what you were doing.

You're up for
parole violation Monday.
I know.

Three more years, isn't it?
That's right.

Would you like to duck that?
You can't do nothin',
Mr. Dixon.

I can say I sent you
up to Scalise's hotel,
using you for a stoolie.

Yeah?
Particularly if you prove it.

Like how?
Don't play dumb!

You mean by squealin'
about the Morrison job?

No.
By telling me where Scalise is.

You're gonna tell me, Willie,

and save yourself three years
and a lot of trouble— bad trouble.

Come on.
What do you call this—
good trouble?

You're asking for it,
and you're gonna get it.
Wait, wait. Wait.

They'll kill me, Mr. Dixon.
Where's Scalise?

I gotta find out first.
Uh, a telephone.
Let me get to a telephone.

Okay.

Hey, Mac, pull up at that bar.
Okay.

Keep the change, Mac.
Thank you, Mr. Dixon.

Don't push me!
They'll catch on!

Get in that booth.
I won't listen.

- Hello?
- Hello, this is Willie Bender.

Who's this, Kramer? Listen, Kramer,
I'm hangin' here by a shoelace.

What do you mean,
what do I mean?

Mark Dixon is on my neck.
Yeah, he's right outside the booth.

No, no, he can't hear nothin'.
He wants to see Scalise.

What's the idea of calling here?

Ain't ya got any brains in your head, stupid?
That copper'll grab this number!

Who is it?
Willie Bender.
Dixon has glommed on to him.

Give me that.
This is Scalise.

Is Dixon alone?

It's okay, Willie.

Now, get this straight.

I'd like to see Mr. Dixon,
but all by himself.

Now, here's the way
I want you to work it.

Get out a pencil
and write this down,

so if he's watchin' ya
he'll know it's on the square.

Hold it. Just a second.

Okay.

Tell him I'll meet him
under the following conditions.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah.

Okay, I got it.
Yeah, yeah.

What did Scalise say?

Well, I wasn't conversin' with Scalise.
I was talkin' to Kramer.

He says he'll contact Scalise in an hour,

and that you should be
on the East River Drive

across the street from Bellevue
at 3:00 AM.

And if everything's okay,
he'll pick ya up there.

Oh, and he says
you gotta come alone.

What else?
That's all.

Thanks.
Uh, what about my parole?

I done everything I could.

Hello, Blue Star Service?
Send a messenger
to the Greystone Hotel.

He'll know where it is.
Have him wait in the lobby.

The name is Dixon—
Mark Dixon.

Right away.

Inspector Nicholas Foley.

Dear sir,

I didn't have the guts to tell you this
while I was alive,

because I didn't want to end up

like Sandy Dixon's kid.

That's what every hood
in New York calls me—

Sandy Dixon's kid—

and even in the department,

behind my back.

I wanted to end up as a cop,

and that's what I'm going to do.

I killed Kenneth Paine.

It was an accident.

I went in to pinch him.

He slugged me, and I hit back.

How was I to know
he had a silver plate in his head?

But I covered it up like a mobster,

because I couldn't shake loose
from what I was.

Now I'm shaking loose.

I'm going to get Scalise for you.

He's a hood, like my old man was.

You won't have to worry about
pinning the Morrison killing on him.

You can pull him in

for mine,

and that will square things all around.

Sincerely, Mark Dixon.

Where's Scalise?

Scalise ain't here.
He left a message for you.

What is the message?

He's willing to see you
under certain conditions.

What conditions?

You gotta park your gun.

Where is he?
We got instructions.

It's no go with a rod.

Put it down here.

Anything else?

We gotta frisk you.

Go ahead.
We're wasting time.

He's clean.
Come on.

It's okay.

Sit down, Mr. Dixon.

I told the boys
you'd come alone.

That's because
I understand you, Mr. Dixon.

What I don't understand is your reason
for calling on me at this time.

I said sit down.

I never saw a man
as full of hate as you.

I consider it almost humorous,
the way you came hotfooting it after me alone.

I'm in the clear
on the Morrison job.

The police are satisfied to let me alone.

But you're still
hot on my neck as always.

Sit down, Dixon.

I'm not kiddin'.

It don't add up, Dixon—
you stayin' on my neck like this.

Maybe you thought
you could start me running
by coming after me.

Well, we're not running, Dixon.

We're all fixed
to leave tomorrow morning,

passports in order and everything.

And I'm leavin' you locked in here.

It'll give us something to laugh about—

you sitting here
for a couple of days

trying desperately
to attract attention.

It'll maybe give the department a laugh too.

Well, go ahead, Mr. Dixon.
You came out here for something.

Let's hear what it is.

You've got something on your mind,
the way you look, Mr. Dixon.

I'm gonna give you some advice,
and you'd better listen carefully.

You start mussin' me up,
and you're gonna get it.
Do ya hear?

You'll only throw one punch,
and they'll let ya have it.

I've given them instructions.

Hold it!
No more shootin'!
He asked for it.

Sure.
Sure, he asked for it.

That's what he came here for—
so we should rub him out.

He's crazy.
I saw when I looked in his eyes.

Kramer, get your stuff.
Fix him up.

That's a fancy way
of tryin' to frame somebody—
gettin' yourself knocked off.

A guy's gotta be
out of his head for that.

I didn't know a guy could hate that much.
Not even you.

And all because your old man
set me up in business.

I got it added up now, Dixon.

I should've figured it last night
when you tried to hang the Paine job on me.

You were the first cop
to get to Paine's house.

You found Paine
and slugged him and killed him,
and you took the body to the river.

And you had to slug
a night watchman.

You've been walkin' around ever since,
half cop and half killer.

The man who hates crooks.

The law that works by itself.

The cop who can't stand
to see a killer loose.

So what is he?
A hood and a mobster,
like his old man.

It's interesting
how blood will tell.

Your old man would've been
very proud of you

to see how you finally
followed in his footsteps.

You and me oughta get
very friendly when you're
on your feet again, Dixon.

There are a lot of things
a smart cop could do for me.

They got Steve.
They beat it out of him. He let go
the whole works about Morrison.

Come on!
I haven't finished
the bandage!

Let him bleed.
Come on.

Get the elevator.

Open the door!
We're stuck!
It won't open! We ain't down!

Press the emergency button!
Power's off.

We're stuck!

That dirty copper.

Can't change, can ya?
Always have to break orders.

Always have to do things your way.

This time
I've gotta hand it to you.

You hit the nail
right on the head.
Thanks, Inspector.

Mark.

They're letting Dad out.

I don't know what to say.

But thanks.
He didn't do it single-handed,
Miss Taylor.

The department contributed
a small share

toward establishing
your father's innocence.

Not that I'm not
proud of you, Mark.

I'm putting you back where you were
and recommending you for promotion.

Oh, that's wonderful.
Here's your letter back.

Since there was
no report of your death,
I didn't open it.

You expected to die.

I don't think Mr. Dixon
knows what he expected.

He was pretty sore at me
when he wrote this.

I think he's in
a different mood now.

Tear it up, Mark,
and no hard feelings.

And take a rest
till your arm heals.

Dad's waiting, Mark.
Will you come home with us?

Sounds like a nice holiday
for a change, Mark.
Go on. You've earned it.

I'd like you to open the letter,
Inspector.

- You're sure?
- Yes, sir. Open it.

What is it?

Mark.

That clears up both cases.

You're under arrest, Mark.

No!
What is it?

Please tell me, Mark.

Would you mind letting her
read the letter, sir?

Report to Lt. Thomas.
I'll make the charge myself.

Yes, sir.

Mark.

Good-bye, Morgan.

No, Mark. They'll believe you.

They must believe you.
It was an accident, a mistake.

Anybody can make a mistake.

You mean you'll give Sandy Dixon's kid
another chance?

Every chance in the world.

That's enough to live for.
So long, Morgan.

So long, darling.