Original subtitles

Each year, millions upon millions of dollars are milked

from gullible people by the charity racketeers.

Corruptors who line their own pockets with money

meant for the needy and the deserving.

Kids whose lungs hunger for the fresh air of a country camp.

Victims of fires, which destroy every possession accumulated over a lifetime.

The victims of floods, forced to abandon their homes to the ravages of nature.

Those who suffer through long time industrial shutdowns,

for whom shoes and nice clothes are dreams of the past.

Victims of dust bowls and crop failures,

who must leave their homes to find a livelihood elsewhere.

And in other parts of the world, the victims of war, famine and hate,

who yearn only for food and love and peace.

These are the victims of the racketeers,

whose corrupt operations make it difficult for legitimate

charities to function most effectively.

These robbers of the poor box were the object

of a series of columns I was preparing,

and which tonight was coming into focus.

Put Marino on. I've got to talk to him.

Who is this?

Mayberry? Yeah.

Tell him I'm ready with that story, like I promised.

This is Jack Flood.

Why didn't you call him when you were supposed to?

I couldn't. Somebody was on my tail. I had to shake him.

Oh.

Well, okay, but understand, look, I'm taking a big risk.

What I've got to tell, there's a price on it.

A big price.

We'll see. We'll see about that.

But it fits right in with these articles he's writing on crooked charities.

Look, I'm giving you the guy behind the biggest charity record in the country.

Where are you?

Just around the corner of Walnut and Ninth Street.

Well, get here right away. Right.

Oh, mister.

You got a match?

Sure.

Yes, sir. Thank you for calling, sir.

Yes? Paul Marino. I have a reservation. Oh, just one moment, sir.

I hope you don't mind, Mr. Marino, but we had to give you one of the smaller rooms.

All the better ones were reserved earlier by Mr.

Charles Baxter and the National Children's League.

You mind watching that drag for a little while? I'll be with you in a few minutes.

Thank you.

May I help you?

Oh, I'm looking for Mr. Baxter. Is he expecting you? I doubt it.

Well, then I doubt if he'll have time to see you, mister.

Marino, Paul Marine.

Oh, the columnist.

You make the words sound like a time bomb.

I'll tell him you're here.

Chuck Baxter. Pleasure meeting you. I read your column religiously.

Your words seem to come out of a machine gun.

That piece you did on phony charities, I said to myself, thank God.

Thank God that someone has finally pulled the weeds out of the garden,

pulled them out by the roots, so that the decent, honest charities can thrive.

Well, I'm still trying to pull out the weeds, Mr. Blackstick.

Ah, well, by George, I hope so. I hope so. I mean,

you turn your back for one minute, and there are the weeds again,

just as though you'd never pulled them out in the first place.

Fine, then I take it I can count on your cooperation.

What? Need you ask?

I mean, if I hear of anyone, anything rotten in any charity organization,

you'll be the first to know.

Well, I was talking about your organization, Mr. Baxter. Mine?

Well, a man who uses words as a tool to betray

should be a little more careful, not mine.

But the people's organization, those who give to it, those who receive from it.

I'm just a hired hand, an organ grinder's monkey, if you will,

who receives with one hand, gives away with the

other. Let's step into my office, shall we?

You must have come a long way. I expect you could do with a little relaxation.

I know what it's like to be alone in a strange town.

I used to be a traveling salesman of the encyclopedias a young man.

I sold plenty of encyclopedias, but all those nights,

there's nothing to do but read the encyclopedias. Oh, listen,

I have a few free tickets to a show tonight if you'd be interested.

If you're interested, they're yours.

Perhaps one of our young ladies would be delighted to accompany you.

I mean, after all, a man of your prestige.

Oh, Charles! Could you come over here, please?

Excuse me, just a moment. Yes, Grace, what's the problem?

We can't leave it aside.

Should the Marching Mothers do it alone,

or should they make their collection in pairs?

Well, in my humble opinion, alone.

I mean, after all, we don't want to pressure anyone, do we? Ah, are these the kits?

Oh, yes, they just arrived.

Each woman who makes door-to-door solicitations

will carry one of these kits with her.

Ah, all right. Now, you see,

inside there's room for her literature and for her receipt books.

Yeah, that's rather elaborate, isn't it? Yeah, yes, but we're proud of them.

I'll take this with me, Grace. I want to show it to someone.

Oh, ladies, this is Paul Marino.

These lovely ladies are running the Mother's March, which starts tomorrow, baby.

Broadly how Charles gives everybody credit.

Well, ladies, shall we? This way, Paul.

That was Grace Abbott, chairlady of Volunteers. She's first family around here,

belongs to all the best clubs. She's a fine person, a dedicated worker.

Chuck. Yeah, Chuck. We're going to need more seats in the auditorium.

For the proper seating arrangement, I suggest we put the mayor here,

the governor here, and the state senators there.

All right, anything you want. Gentlemen, just mention it to Annie,

and she'll take care of it. Oh, I'd like you to meet Paul Marino.

This is Judge Williston and Congressman Riker, two of the best members of our team.

Hello.

Marino?

You write The Corrupters, Colin? That's right.

Run for your life, Congressman. Run for your safe box, Judge.

You've met Ann Fielding? Oh, yes.

Ann is the heart and soul of our organization. Without this little dynamo,

absolutely nothing would get done. Absolutely nothing.

Those letters are ready for you to sign. Oh, good.

And the mayor called. He wants to talk to you about his speech.

Again? Well, I'm afraid he's just going to have to wait.

Sit down, Paul, and fire away. Now,

what would you like to know about our little organization?

Everything.

Everything, huh? Well, that's quite a big order.

But give me the big orders every time. Annie,

would you put together a set of literature, please?

Everything we've got. Well, this is only our second year, you understand.

The picture's changing, but in 14 states,

we still raise our funds by door-to-door campaigns... In others,

we solicit by mail, and of course, we hold these big rallies.

This week here, next week in New York, following week in Dallas.

Exactly where does this money go?

Exactly where it'll do the most good.

Annie, do you have a copy of that financial report?

I thought you had it.

Me? I, uh...

I don't think so.

We have a committee that determines where every penny goes.

I'd be glad to send you a financial report if you'd like one.

Aren't you going to ask me about that?

Do you want me to?

Well, it explains how I happened to choose this profession.

You notice the time on this watch is 10.34 a.m.

10.34 a.m., February the 8th, 1930.

The big depression.

Things at home were... hopeless.

We had nothing.

There's a kid in my school. He had everything.

The chauffeur used to drive him to school every day in a Pierce Arrow.

One day he left his locker open, and I saw this watch on the shelf.

Pretty good watch for a kid, huh?

My father used to have to go to the pawn shop

window to see what time it was on his watch.

So you stole it?

No.

No, I threw it on the ground and jumped on it, smashed it.

You see, it doesn't hurt so much to have nothing when

all the people around you are in the same boat.

When the people around you still have plenty.

And it really hurts.

Well, anyway, I ended up in old man Deaver's office, the principal.

Chuck.

What's all this noise about free seats for VIPs?

This is a charity show. If they want to see it, let them pay. Vince,

I'd like you to meet Paul Marino, the columnist.

This is our very dedicated business manager, Mr. Vince Tyler.

Hello.

Someone has to be the conscience of underprivileged children

so as not to waste any money that might otherwise go to them.

Hope to see you later.

You will stay for a while.

Oh, sure. I'll be around.

Good.

You were telling me about this, uh... Oh, yes, the watch.

I, uh... I smashed it.

Well, they were going to expel me.

Some members of the PTA went to bat for me,

even offered to buy me a watch of my own.

Well, I was so, so grateful that I decided right then

that someday I'd do the same thing for other kids,

that someday I, It would help other kids who had been less fortunate than I was.

So you kept this smashed watch as a constant reminder of that.

Charles, guess who's just arrived?

Tina Bellardi.

Tina Bellardi?

Oh, I, uh, I forgot to tell you. She, um...

She, uh, she sent us a wire.

She sent us a wire last night.

She, uh... Charles!

Tina, Carla, me a welcome.

Charles, follow me.

Tina, Tina, you look beautiful. Bella, Bella.

You're not so bad for looking yourself.

Tina, I'd like you two famous people to meet.

Tina Bilardi, this is Paul Marino, the columnist.

Piacere.

How do you do? And this is our executive secretary, Anne Fielding.

Piacere.

I admire so much the writing from Hollywood. Mr.

Marino is hardly a gossip columnist.

I still admire to weave together the words that stir the heart and soul.

La magia, magic.

You weave plenty of magia yourself, if I may say so, without words.

Un momento, per favore. Momento, momento, momento.

Yes.

It makes me nervous. And what comes out in the newspapers?

Well, now, now, Tina, now, Tina,

we'd like very much to send for a Hollywood

photographer for you, but now just think.

Think how many little pairs of shoes would have

to be sacrificed, how many school lunches.

You hear that? That's the way to handle the actress.

Oh, you big papa boy, he's an expert.

Now, momento, per favore, you got the room for Bellarti?

Yes, yes, I have.

Grace, Grace, would you take care of this, please? Tina, Tina,

would you just go with Grace, please, dear? Arrivederci. Arrivederci.

Arrivederci. Goodbye. Goodbye. Thank you very much.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Well, how's that for support? Tina Velarde comes here to get on our team. Now,

that's the kind of a reputation this organization has.

Here's some very interesting material. I'm sure it'll be a big help.

First starter.

Thank you.

If you're staying at the hotel,

I'd be glad to see that you get only the best treatment,

only the best for the gentleman of the press.

I'm sure you wouldn't try to influence what I write. Oh,

you'll be influenced all right,

but only by all the good that this organization does.

Like an ancient countryman of yours, a G.I. named Mark Antony,

who came to bury Caesar and stayed to praise him.

I see you studied your encyclopedia well.

Goodbye. Bye. You ought to rub this thing down. It looks too new.

Just what is Tina Bilardi doing here?

Oh, Annie, Annie, don't be so suspicious.

How did you expect me to take it?

Well, what do you expect me to do? Tina just dropped in on us out of the sky.

She needs publicity. That's why she's forcing herself on us.

Now, why shouldn't we reap the benefits?

Things always work out so conveniently for you so very... Now, Annie, listen.

Now, you listen to me. I joined you in this noble

enterprise because I was in love with you.

Because we were in love with each other,

and that hasn't changed any more than the law of gravity.

Oh, yes, it has. I'm a decoy for you. I'm a decoy for the social set.

No, you were.

You were, but you're not anymore.

I'd be lost without you now, Annie.

Lost.

We are both lost in this operation, Charles.

All right, so we reap a few dividends, if that's what you mean.

Just to repay us for hard work, that's all.

You reap a lot more than a few dividends.

All right, but we still help kids.

They get things they'd never get if we weren't in business. Look, Annie,

we work a few angles like everybody else. Now, nowadays, to get ahead,

you've got to be realistic.

I still have a few friends who manage very nicely without your kind of realism.

This way, Mr. Marino.

Oh, wait a minute, son. Wait a minute.

This doesn't look like the room I was supposed to get.

Are you kidding? It sure ain't. This is golden carpet treatment. Golden what?

A golden carpet. Well, that's the name the

hotel gives for it. Better than red carpet.

Our special hospitality package for VIPs. The finest

hotel suites, room service, a car if you want it.

Why did they switch me?

Well, a call came through from Mr. Baxter of National Children's Week.

Hold it, son.

There's nothing to worry about, Mr. Moreno.

You're in good company on this floor.

Judge Willison, Congressman Reichert, Mr. Baxter, of course, and best of all,

Tina Bilardi, all here on the golden carpet.

You mean the hotel donates all these rooms to National Children's Week?

The hotel.

The hotel donates ice water.

Take my things back to my own room and tell the manager I'll pay my own tab.

Well, it's a legitimate expense for the organization, what they call promotional,

all tax deductible on Uncle Sammy.

Here.

Thank you, Mr. Marino.

If there's anything else I can do for you, you will later.

Mr. Marino, here's your long-distance call to Mr. Flood in New York.

You're welcome.

Yes, Jack.

Murdered?

Well, how is he murdered?

No clues, huh?

Well, can you get in here right away?

What for? Because I need a pretty smart detective. That's what for. All right, fine.

Always up, higher and higher.

I say, what goes up must come down.

Not in these days of satellites and rockets.

Oh, Charles, Mr. Marino is here.

Yes, I took the liberty of showing him to your office.

Marino?

Thank you, Grace.

Yes, Paul. What can I do for you?

Well, you can fill me in on a man named Carl Mayberry.

Mayberry?

You do know him, don't you?

Yes, yes, of course.

Why, has he been bothering you? Well, he tried to see me in New York,

but we missed connection.

What do you want to know about him?

He said word that he had the inside story on this outfit.

I might have expected him to say that.

Why? Well, I'd rather not go into it, if you don't mind.

I don't believe in kicking a man when he's down.

I wish you would go into it.

Carl Mayberry is a vindictive man.

About what?

A number of years ago, we were partners in a small mail order business.

He used the facilities without my knowledge to perpetrate a mail fraud.

I found out about it, reported him to the authorities, and he went to jail.

So, now he's out for revenge.

It's preposterous, isn't it?

He thinks he can force me to turn over money

that belongs to National Children's Week.

Blackmail. That's all his story amounts to, Paul.

Pure blackmail.

I see. Oh, by the way, Mayberry is dead.

Someone didn't want him to talk to me, so he stuck a knife into him.

Vince, I want to see you right away.

What's up, Charles?

Mayberry's dead.

So he's dead. So what?

So you killed a man.

Got any eyewitnesses? Don't give me that innocence.

All I did was make the arrangements with a specialist.

I was brought up on the idea that when it comes

to using a knife, Always get a specialist.

Where do you come off pulling a stunt like that? Where? To save your neck on mine,

that's where. Now listen, Vince.

Now simmer down.

Don't go losing your well-known air-conditioned charm.

The cops are nowhere on it.

No clues, no leads.

We're absolutely clean.

Why didn't you discuss this with me first? I make the decisions around here.

I put this outfit together. It's mine.

And mine.

I've got a stake here, too, and I'm going to protect it,

even if I have to make my own decisions.

And you listen to me.

I picked you up when you were nothing but a two-bit bookkeeper.

Because I felt sorry for you because you just finished

serving time and you couldn't get a job, so you'll do what I say!

The only reason you took me in was for my well-known talent with figures.

My talent to add and subtract and multiply figures.

And make them come out exactly as you want them to come out.

And I like exercising my talent.

I'm not sitting back and let somebody work us over in the newspapers.

Well, I don't want any strong-arm stuff, you understand? I don't want it.

Did you want Mayberry to get to Moreno?

Did you want the government on your neck for tax returns?

Okay.

We discussed it.

Just like business people.

You run the front office.

Show them your...

Trick watch, and keep the VIPs happy.

I'll handle the practical problems.

I try not to listen in on the conversation, Mr. Moreno,

but sometimes I just can't help it.

Park Lake Hotel?

One moment, please.

If I didn't listen in once in a while, I'd get straight out of my mind.

No idea how monotonous this job is. Plug it in, pull it out, plug it in,

pull it out. Oh, there are times I want to scream. Then go ahead, scream.

Cream?

Well, sure, it's good for you once in a while.

Oh, no, I wouldn't dare.

Barclay Hotel.

One moment, please.

Would you dare do something for me?

Like what?

Like letting me take a look at that list of phone calls Mr. Baxter's made.

You're cute, Mr. Marino, but I couldn't possibly do such a thing,

not without the manager's permission.

It might make you feel a lot better than even the loudest scream.

What do you mean?

Look, you've given something to the National Children's Fund, haven't you?

Who hasn't?

I've got kids of my own. I know how important this is for the kids.

Sure, and you'd like to make sure that it all

goes to those kids for whom it was intended, wouldn't you?

What a question!

Then suppose you let me take a look at that list of phone calls he's made.

But the rule here is that... The rule here is you're a mechanical octopus.

Plug in, plug out, plug in, plug out.

You never think for yourself.

All right, Mr. Marino, but... But you... you be quick with it.

I will, Roxanne.

That might make you lose your job.

You're a nice guy, Mr. Marino, and a big tipper.

But so is Mr. Baxter a nice guy, and an even bigger tipper.

Park Lake Hotel.

One moment, please.

Here's the kit they used in their last campaign in New York.

They really did it up brown, didn't they?

Top grain leather, gold engraving, all the little luxuries that cost money.

Let's print it right here.

Well, what's next?

You go to work in their boiler room.

I found out about it from the bellhop of the hotel. He works there in a spare time.

There it is, the ground floor apartment.

A fellow from the phone company told me they

installed five new lines there on Monday.

Smells boiler room to me.

Yeah, so does the motor scooter.

They probably used that to pick up the donations.

Hey, you're in business.

There he is, the bellhop.

He's your contact. Meet him in the bar.

He'll introduce you to the guy in charge of the boiler room.

How'd you manage it?

He seemed very much interested in something in the hotel called the carpet of gold.

I showed him something a lot more interesting.

A carpet of green.

The outward appearance of a corrupt charity is often

disguised with the most respectable trappings.

The corruptors copy and employ all the techniques of legitimate charities.

For instance, the Mother's March, used so effectively by the Red Cross,

the Community Chest, and similar organizations whose

service to the American people is known to all of us.

The corruptors employ the TV appeal used by the Heart Fund,

the Damon Runyon Cancer Fund,

and others who have contributed so much to the welfare of humanity.

The corruptors appeal through the mail with their

own version of Christmas and Easter Seals,

hoping to ride the coattails of those organizations which have made

such strides in helping tuberculosis patients and crippled children.

They appeal to you to buy a statuette of G.I. Joe and help the handicapped veterans.

But they don't tell you which handicapped veterans, only where to send the money.

They say you solicited for charity drives before.

I said I worked in boiler rooms before. How many?

Four. No, five.

Suppose you're selling ads in a program for a big rally.

How would you go about it if you got a man on the phone?

He says maybe he'll buy half the page. He asked for your number to call you back.

I give him the wrong number, and I forget it.

You call a lawyer for a contribution.

Who do you say you are, head of the Bar Association or something?

Doctor, minister, anything except the same profession.

Suppose you get a sucker who wants to buy, say,

a quarter page that says compliments of a friend or something like that.

How would you talk him into putting his name on it?

I wouldn't.

I'd push the compliments of the friend ad.

That way you can sell the same space ten times over,

and nobody knows the difference.

How much commission do you work for?

The usual. 35%.

Flood had started working in the boiler room.

So-called because this is where good eggs are softened up for the charity racketeer.

Where thousands of dollars are rinsed out of an unsuspecting city.

Where pitchmen put on the steam for fancy commissions.

And the same to you, mister.

Hello, Mr. Grant. This is Alderman Richards.

I'm calling all my good neighbors on behalf of National Children's Week.

You might not be a religious person,

but we like to think that those who find it in their hearts to buy

space in our program are also buying themselves space up above.

That's right, a half-page ad will provide a hundred pair of shoes.

And a full-page ad will send ten unfortunate children to camp for the summer.

Not only do you perform your sacred duty to this wonderful community,

but you also purchase some fine institutional advertising for your bank.

Well, it boils down to one thing.

If your name isn't in that program Saturday night,

everybody in town will think you're a cheapskate.

Yes, that's wonderful.

Well, thank you very much, sir.

We'll send a messenger right over to pick up your check.

Goodbye. Good day, sir. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Mr. Jackson, excuse me a minute, but the district assemblyman just came in,

and he'd like to talk to you about this.

Just a moment, sir.

Jackson, machine tools.

Got to get this stuff to the bank before it closes.

Let's see what kind of an assemblyman you make.

Machine tools, huh?

Hello, Mr. Jackson.

My friend here tells me you'd like to know a little

bit more about National Children's Week.

Well, I'll tell you how I see it.

I see it as an opportunity,

a chance to put our town on the map as a dynamic

industrial community with a great big heart.

Last minute, I'll knock the door.

Bud, the whistle blew.

Look, you go on. I've got a couple more calls to make. I'll catch up with you.

Okay.

Yes, yes, that's right. A half-page ad will

provide 100 shoes, 100 pair of shoes, yes.

And a full-page ad... Yes, well, thank you very much.

Here are the bills from the Priority Novelty Company for the kids.

Here are the bills for mailing. Oh boy,

they could mail out the Empire State Building for that.

And here are the bills for printing.

Oh, brother.

Well, we'll have to have photostats of these in the right away.

Then get these originals back in the files as quick as you can.

I checked on the outfit that was supposed to make the collection kits.

It turned out to be nothing more than desk space and a telephone.

A front where the bills were paid, nothing more.

The kits were made elsewhere. They wouldn't say where.

I paid a visit to the company that was doing the mailing for Baxter,

the West End Corporation.

It had moved its offices only a few weeks before.

I found out it kept moving to a new city every time Baxter

and the National Children's Fund moved to a new city.

I checked on the printing company that did their programs and brochures.

It was hidden away in a rundown part of the city.

The entire place could be bought for one-tenth the charge of the printing to Baxter.

The one man who worked there was somewhat less than friendly.

But whether he liked it or not, certain business records are open to the public.

Except that the public doesn't always check on them.

Always up higher and higher and higher.

Andia, what about the flowers?

In the silver room. Oh, they go to the silver room, please.

Grace, you're sure Mr. Baxter knows the party starts at 8 o'clock? Oh, I think so.

He didn't say where he was going when he went out?

I believe he was going to his hotel room.

Andy, don't you think you ought to go and change?

Otherwise you'll never be ready in time.

No, I'll wait. Oh, I'll see you later, dear.

Operator?

Operator? This is the operator.

Hello.

You're a little early for the party, Mr. Marino.

Well, I suppose you helped me pass the time.

Something tells me you could use a tall, cool drink.

Is that how you usually dig up your information, over a tall, cool drink?

Well, if you prefer a church somewhere, a nice, empty church.

When I go to church, I prefer to sit alone.

Oh, I'd be glad to wait outside for you while you went in to contemplate,

let's say, Mayberry's death.

I suppose you can clarify that.

I could.

But I think you'd do better to ask Baxter about it.

He was in on it.

You're a liar, Mr. Marino,

and you have absolutely no right throwing him in with anything like that.

Ask him.

And ask him why he hid it from you.

You'll find him in his room.

Charlie forgot to kiss me goodbye. Tina, I'll see you later at the party.

Charlie, what's the matter? See you later at the party.

Annie?

Annie, is everything ready for the party?

Check on the party yourself.

I'm... Annie, I think we'd better have a little talk.

Leave me alone. I've had enough of this. I don't want anymore.

Now, look, Annie, I told you I love you and I needed you. Now,

how many times must I repeat? Annie, I'm not going to permit you.

Let me go and leave me alone.

Look, there is absolutely nothing left. I'm cleaned

out. I gambled it all away. What do you mean?

Gambled?

I'm a big pleo.

Step right up, girls. Win a man and be happy for the rest of your life.

You're 28 and single? Well, just plunk down your bet and win the man of your choice.

Around and around the wheel goes and where she stops, nobody knows. Penny,

will you cut that out? All it costs is your ego, girls. Your ego,

your self-respect, and your whole rotten, foolish life.

What if he doesn't love you? You can always tell yourself he'll learn.

And you'll live happily ever after, if you win.

Annie, will you stop and listen to me?

Oh, but if you lose, it is humiliating and it is shameful.

Oh, Charles, you have absolutely no idea.

Annie, you didn't lose. I told you I love you.

There's absolutely no reason for shame.

Oh, isn't there? A human being has been destroyed,

and you say there's no cause for shame.

Destroyed?

Carl Mabry was murdered.

Marino just told me. And you know what, Charles? I feel sick.

But, Annie, listen, I had nothing to do with that, absolutely nothing.

I knew not an inkling. It was Vince and somebody he got to do the job.

Somebody he got? Annie, you've got to believe me.

I knew absolutely nothing about it, but that sort of thing will never happen again.

I've made it perfectly clear to Vince, never.

Annie, Annie, you've got to believe me.

Annie, Annie, don't look at me that way.

Even if no one else has faith in me, you must.

Annie, won't you please think this over? Lonnie,

where are you going? Where are you gonna go?

I want to be as far away from here as I can.

Or maybe take a bath and wash myself clean if I can.

Goodbye, Annie, huh?

How come?

She found out about Mayberry.

How? You? No, Marino.

Smart man.

He knows where to put the pressure.

The weak link.

I told her that sort of thing would never happen again.

It was stupid of you to admit it.

Sure we are.

You know Annie, she's just stubborn, that's all. She's like a toy bull.

She gets her teeth into something, you gotta break her jaw to make her let go.

What I'm wondering is, do you have to break her jaw to keep her quiet?

No.

No.

Not Annie.

She'll be back.

¶¶ May I have your attention, please? Just for a moment.

I would like to propose a toast to Tina Bilardi,

our National Children's Week queen, who has heard the sad,

still voice of human suffering, and who has responded so nobly.

Thank you, thank you so much. Charles, you're too, too wonderful.

Grace, has Annie called? Has she come back yet?

Uh, ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, could I... Uh, ladies and gentlemen,

A generous man or woman is the noblest work of God.

I'm referring now not so much to those of you who have given

so generously financially to National Children's Week,

but those of you who have given of something

far more precious, the days of your lives.

Last year, you helped raise a magnificent sum

of three-quarters of a million dollars.

How much of that went to Priority Incorporated?

I beg your pardon?

How much did you pay to the Priority Novelty Company

for manufacturing the collection kits?

How much to the West End Corporation for handling the mailing?

How much to the Mill City Press for programs?

Well, I don't know the exact figures.

I could check on it. It was $620,867, wasn't it? What?

I think that's a little high.

But it's no secret. Those are highly efficient firms. They do a good job.

That's why they were awarded the contracts.

They were awarded those contracts for one simple reason.

All three of those firms are owned by you and Vincent Tyler.

Me and Tyler? Now, that is absurd. In what bar room did you get that idea?

And you have no right to make these unwarranted accusations, Mr. Marino.

I've double-checked everything. It wasn't easy.

Public officials don't like to investigate charities.

Now look, if you're going to turn this into an...

I found you have quite a history in the charity game.

Yes, I have quite a history in the charity game, as you call it.

I'm a professional fundraiser and proud of it.

I'll be glad to answer any questions you have, but certainly not here.

These good people came to enjoy themselves, so if you don't mind...

Harry Lee, if you don't mind. Perhaps you should let

him talk. Oh, Congressman, this is ridiculous. Yes.

Let's hear the rest of it.

Mr. Baxter's history in the charity game will be

the subject of several of my upcoming articles.

One in particular will deal with the operation of a boiler room where funds

are solicited in the heartwarming name of National Children's Week.

By means of every fraudulent trick in the books. Now, just a minute.

I had nothing to do with anything like that.

I've never authorized any such... Tell that to the other charities,

the legitimate ones, the ones that should have received this money.

Money you siphoned off for your head man in

the boiler room, Vincent Tyler. It's crazy.

Ridiculous.

Every penny that's come in has been accounted for.

Flood!

Just a minute. I'm not going to stand by while you try to crucify innocent people.

Don't try to cover up for Tyler.

He just tried to have Anne Fielding killed.

Just like he did Mayberry.

She's in the hospital right now, in shock.

Strapped to her bed.

The debris, not only of lost dollars, but more important...

Of lost hope, of misguided generosity,

of misplaced enthusiasm by public-spirited Americans

and well-meaning but gullible public officials.

What goes up must come down, at least here on Earth.

Wherever there's dirt, it must be swept away.

So if tomorrow your phone rings and a friendly

voice appeals to your better instincts,

or if your mail contains seals or unordered merchandise,

or pictures of hungry children,

or if somebody knocks on your door and solicits for the starving, the homeless,

the handicapped, check up on them before you give.

Find out if the money they collect will really go for the purpose claimed.

Otherwise, that money you worked so hard for may go to the corruptors.