Star of Midnight

Just drive down State Street. I'll tell you where later.

-Alice, can't you at least tell me where you're going?

-It's business, darling. Don't worry.

I'll either call you, or be back for half past ten.

Give me Miss Markham, please, Alice Markham.

No, Markham, Markham, M like in... Like in Minneapolis!

That's absurd! She couldn't have checked out, I was...

Hello? Hello?

BUZZER RINGS

-Telegram, Mr Windsor.

-Oh, thank you.

That was in Chicago, over a year ago.

It's driving me crazy, Dal.

I can't find a trace of her anywhere, and I've got to find her. I won't believe she's dead.

She's probably married, has settled down, and has eight kids by now.

Oh, I beg your pardon, that was only a year ago.

Oh, be serious, Dal. I'm asking for help.

There's nothing doing. I've got enough trouble with my own women.

-No cocktails, Swayne!

-No, sir?

-No.

Very good, sir.

Don't you understand that I'm still in love with her?

But, Tim, I'm not a detective, and I don't want to be.

I'm a lawyer, a very good one. Just because I happen to have more fun solving

cases than trying them, my friends seem to think

I'm a combination of Charlie Chan, Philo Vance, and the Sphinx, all rolled into one.

But you help so many people out of scrapes, that's the least you could do for a friend.

Well, I'll tell you what I'll do.

If, in my communings with the spirits, astral or liquid,

I receive any message or omen, I'll let you know, how's that?

Thanks, Dal.

-What makes you think she's in New York?

-I don't know.

It seems to me that if I want to lose myself, New York would be the easiest place to do it in.

You've been reading too much of O Henry.

I said no cocktails, Swayne, you know we're dining at the Quarries.

Yes, quite, but if I might suggest...

-We're having cocktails, Tim.

-Yes, I think it best.

The gin at the Quarries is not... Authentic.

Thank you, Swayne.

Why the third glass?

Miss Mantin phoned, sir, and said that she'd stop for you on her way to the Quarries.

I was afraid of that.

You'll like this kid, Tim, she's quite a character.

I've known her since she was ten.

She ran away from home when she was 11.

They found her in my apartment.

She announced that she had decided to marry me.

-Be careful of her.

-You could go a lot further and do a lot worse.

Mr Tennant is returning your call.

Hello, Tennant.

I thought we had agreed that my name was not

to appear in your column any more.

-Your name is news, Dalzell.

-I never bit a dog in my life.

And I don't want my name in your column again,

-is that understood?

-Wait a minute.

-Mary, get the Mantin story. Hold the line, will you?

-All right.

-Hello, Swayne. Hi, Dal.

-Hiya, madam.

-Donna Mantin, Tim Winthrop.

-How do you do.

Delighted to meet any friend of Dal's. You must come and see us often when we are married.

Tim, the woman is a shameless hussy and a fact distorter.

-Have a drink.

-Thanks.

-Yes, I'm still here.

-Here's my lead for tomorrow.

"Bad news for New York debutantes.

"Clay Dalzell will quit playing the field

"and be led to the altar by Donna Mantin."

-Where'd you get that?

-Some dame called up and gave it to me. Is it true?

-Wait a minute.

-Did you tell Tommy Tennant that we were going to be married?

-Certainly.

-Hmm.

Well, you can't get ruled off for trying.

-There's not a word of truth in it.

-OK, then I can use this.

"Donna Mantin, wealthy young socialite, was seen having tea

"with Jim Kinland, alleged public enemy number three, yesterday afternoon.

"What does this TNT for two mean?"

You can't print that.

-Why not?

-Because I'll trade you a better one.

Well, listen to this anyway.

Your hunch about my connection with the van Heusen divorce case is right.

You're a white man, Dalzell. The story's dead.

-Anything else on your mind?

-Yes.

Cut your throat.

Honourable ending to a risky career.

-Swayne, more cocktails.

-And make them strong!

Dal, may I have a few words with you, privately?

If you'll excuse us, Tim. The lady has no manners.

Well?

-Dal, I need help. I'm in a jam.

-I know. Kinland.

-How did you know about that?

-Tennant. I just managed to kill the story.

Keep on, you'll get yourself splashed all over the front pages.

I know, I should have thought about that.

How about starting to do a little thinking now?

Well, that's just what I am doing. You see... There are some letters.

Oh. I get it.

Good old Dal, he can get the letters back from a nasty gunman,

and get killed doing it, probably.

-No you won't, Dal, you're too smart.

-Yes?

If I were, I'd boot you out of here right now,

let you do your own worrying about your letters.

Dal... Please.

Hmm.

Mind you, if I do go into this, I'm only doing it

because of your mother.

She's a nice woman.

Must be terrible for a woman to have a daughter like you.

My mother just adores me.

It would be more to the point if she spanked you.

-I've a mind to do it myself.

-Well, this will be new.

-You asked for it.

-Hey! That hurt.

-He really does love me. He just kicked me.

-A sure sign.

Oh, and Swayne... Get Mr Kinland on the phone for me, will you?

-Mr Jim Kinland, sir?

-That's right.

Don't you think Dal ought to marry me, Mr Winthrop? I have lots of money.

And I'd have lots of headaches.

Always belittling.

Why don't you tell the man the truth?

When I was ten and he had a moustache, he said I was a sweetheart

and he'd wait for me to grow up.

-Now...

-I shaved off the moustache.

Mr Kinland is not at home, sir.

Would you leave word for him to call me as soon as he comes in?

Either at the Quarries or the Prince Theatre, later.

-I'll leave my seat number at the box office.

-Are we going to the theatre?

-Yes, ma'am. Tim, have you seen this Mary Smith?

-No, but I want to.

-Does she wear that mask all the time?

-Well, I don't know...

They say she's never seen around the theatre without it.

After the show she just disappears into the night.

Now there's something to conjure with.

A woman like that captures the imagination. Mysterious...

Mysterious, my eye.

Your masked marvel probably has a wart on the end of her nose.

Meow.

To the mysterious Mary Smith.

Kinland?

-My apologies to the hostess.

-Oh, Dal, don't go.

I didn't realise what I was asking. Stay here.

My love to Mary Smith.

Tell her I went to my death with a smile on my face.

I tell you, Ohlman, I can do you a lot of good...

-You're in bad company, Abe.

-Hiya, Dalzell.

-How's business?

Capacity, night after night.

That Smith girl is something every producer dreams about.

If it wasn't for these newspaper fellows coming in asking foolish

questions all the time, well, we know something that they don't know.

Clay!

-Well, bless me! Jerry!

-You haven't forgotten me?

-What do you mean?

-You've heard me speak of Clay Dalzell, dear?

-Yes, how do you do.

-How do you do, Mr Burton? Oh, no,

-my dear. I divorced Mr Burton four years ago.

-Since then, I have been Mrs Crandall.

-Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr Crandall.

No. I'm now Mrs Classon. This is Mr Classon.

-Oh!

-Don't be embarrassed, Mr Dalzell,

I run into that sort of thing all the time.

Well!

-And Dalzell never turned a hair.

-Why should he?

-That's Roger Classon, the Chicago lawyer, and his wife.

-Well?

-She and Dalzell were once...

-Oh...

-We're at the King Charles. Do look us up.

-I'll do that.

-Good night.

Good night, Jerry.

-Good night.

-Good night, Mr Classon. Er, Klanndel.

-All right?

-Very good, sir. I'll tell Mr Kinland you're here.

-Thank you.

-Are you Mr Dalzell?

-Yes.

-I'm Jimmy Kinland, how do you do?

What's on your mind?

Miss Mantin asked me to get some letters from you.

Beat it.

-When I get the letters.

-Beat it, I said while you're still healthy.

Very well.

Oh, and by the way, there was

something funny that I wanted to ask you about.

In 1929, you made a total gross income tax return of 65,000.

-What's that to you?

-But you were given one cheque and loan for 120,000.

Actual total gross income, 970,000.

How many pennies am I off the exact figure?

TURNS ON RADIO

-The radio is awfully loud.

-I want it that way.

Where did you get that tax bill?

From the man who paid you the 120,000.

The cancelled cheque is in my safety deposit box,

where the police will find it if anything happens to me.

That cheque is six years old. Why'd you hold out till now?

-I'm not a federal man.

-How much do you want?

-The letters.

TURNS DOWN RADIO

There's lots of things we don't like that we have to take.

The reason I'm alive today is

because I'm smart enough to know when to take it.

-Here you are.

-Thank you. Good night.

-Oh, wait a minute.

-What about the cheque?

-I'll keep that, if you don't mind. You can trust me.

-It ain't exactly business, is it?

-Strictly business.

That cheque is the lock that keeps the Mantin matter a closed book.

And we closed it just in time.

I had to stop Tennant from printing a story about you and the lady.

He's too nosy, that guy. Maybe he ought to be rubbed out.

Isn't that sort of thing against the law?

'Flash from the News Radio Bureau!

'The Prince Theatre tonight was thrown into confusion

'after the first act when Mary Smith,

'the star of Midnight, suddenly disappeared.

'We will now return to Nick Price and his orchestra.'

Well, there's a story for Tennant.

The mysterious Mary Smith disappeared, or kidnapped, maybe.

-What do you know about that?

-I don't know anything about it!

I was here all night, and I can prove it.

My friend, the question was purely academic. Good night.

Sleep tight.

Swayne!

Swayne? I want a drink.

BUZZER RINGS

Swayne! Someone at the door.

Hmm. Very sorry, Mr Dalzell. I'll attend to it immediately. Dal!

-I found her, I found her!

-Good.

But it's a worse mess than ever, she's disappeared again.

My boy, you're not in love with a girl, you've fallen for a card trick.

-But you don't understand! Alice is Mary Smith.

-And you're Mahatma Gandhi.

-And there's the brandy, how's that?

-But she is, Dal, she is!

I realised it the moment she stood on stage.

The minute I saw her I shouted, "Alice!"

That must've helped the show along. Did she see you?

She must have, she got all upset, she had to start her number over again. No, thanks.

After the act was over, I rushed backstage to see her.

-She'd already gone?

-Yes.

People were chasing each other round, detectives, newspapermen, and

someone spotted me as the fella that had shouted "Alice!", so I beat it.

Timothy...

I can't work out a jigsaw puzzle if you're going to keep some of the pieces in your pocket.

What do you mean?

I mean that you haven't told me all you know, or at least suspect,

about her disappearance from Chicago.

Now, how about it, do I get the other pieces?

Well, I...

BUZZER RINGS

-Could anyone have followed you?

-I don't know.

Perhaps you better go into my den and wait.

Right.

-Ah, brother Tennant.

-Where's Winthrop?

Well, if it's off the record,

he was at the Prince Theatre seeing Midnight.

There isn't anyone seeing Midnight. The Smith girl has disappeared.

-No...

-Disappeared and given me the greatest story a newspaperman ever had.

-Have a drink.

-Thanks.

How's this for a set-up?

The show was going on, lights blazing, music blaring,

the girls dancing their heads off. Smith makes her entrance.

A guy in a side row jumps up and yells, "Alice!"

Smith almost drops in her tracks. She has to start all over again.

A guy races up the aisle and through the lobby and I'm right behind him,

and what's more, I stay right behind him.

I tell you, Dalzell, this is sheer drama.

-That girl had to wear a mask.

-And it wasn't just publicity?

-No.

In your wildest dreams, you could never imagine the real reason.

This is the story of the year, and I'm cracking it.

That's swell, but where do I come in?

I'm going to play ball with you, and I want you to play ball with me.

I'll tell you everything I know, but you've got to do the same.

Yes, but I don't know anything.

OK, I'll take a chance. Look, I trailed this guy and picked up plenty.

Mary Smith is not really Mary Smith.

Her name is Alice Morecambe, she comes from a little jerkwater town in Ohio.

She disappeared from Chicago about a year ago, just as completely as she did tonight.

Tennant, I apologise. You're good.

Where'd you pick up all this?

That's nothing.

I found out the greatest double-cross that's ever been pulled.

This guy was pretending to...

GUNSHOTS

Tim.

Tim?

DOOR RATTLES QUIETLY

Stick 'em up! Higher! Turn around!

-What's the matter, sir?

-Where have you been?

-To the theatre, sir.

-Explain here.

-What happened, sir?

-Tommy Tennant's been shot.

Some brandy, Swayne.

Never mind, Swayne.

-Get me police headquarters, please.

-Are you hurt, sir?

-Only grazed, I think.

-Who did it?

I don't know.

Let me have Inspector Doremus, please.

PHONE RINGS

"Acme Arch Supporters will give tired feet new life,

"and take away the pain almost immediately, or your money back."

PHONE RINGS

Inspector Doremus.

Huh? Murder? What's that address?

Yeah. Yeah.

Now listen, don't touch a thing. I'll be right over.

-Can you picture that? Tommy Tennant's been plugged.

-Tommy Tennant?

-Yeah.

-Whew.

I want you to go to Tommy Tennant's office at The Star,

start pumping his secretary,

and find out everything about him since he cut his first tooth!

He's been bumped off.

Franklin, you go with them.

Your job is to find out where he was, what he did,

every minute of the day until the murder.

Brady and Jones, snoop around Tennant's apartment and see what you can see.

Now, beat it, all of you! Wait a minute, Lewis.

Cleary, come with me to Clay Dalzell's, that's where the body is.

Get Barry to come along for fingerprints and also notify the coroner's office.

-OK, Inspector.

-And Lewis? You are to go to 125 West 34th Street

-and get me a pair of Acme Arch Supporters.

-Right.

-OK, I don't think the hip will trouble you a bit.

-Good.

-I'm very much obliged to you, Doctor.

-You're welcome.

-Just a few more questions, Mr Dalzell.

-So long, Doc.

See you at the inquest.

-Good night, Doctor.

-Good night. Good night, gentlemen.

You're something of a criminologist, ain't ya?

Well, I've read all of Edgar Wallace.

Doesn't it strike you as kind of funny that the murderer

left his gun behind?

-Do murderers usually do that?

-This one did.

-Are you sure that ain't your gun?

-Quite.

My gun is in the cabinet beside my bed, where it always is.

It had your fingerprints on it.

Naturally. I told you I picked it up.

-You didn't like Tennant, did you?

-Not particularly, no.

Ever have an argument with him?

-Frequently.

-What about?

-Things he wrote in his column.

-What was Tennant going to print in his column about you tomorrow?

-Nothing.

How do you know?

-Because he told me so.

-No, he didn't, he didn't do nothing of the kind.

Tell you why. You killed him before I had the chance to do it.

Ain't that it, Dalzell?

Tennant came here to get a story confirmed. You denied him.

He didn't believe you, said he was going to publish it anyhow.

You had an argument. He wouldn't give in,

and the only way you could stop him printing it

was to murder him, ain't that what happened?

You've got too much water in that one.

-The tall one.

-Say, what is this?

A cross-examination or a band rehearsal?

I beg your pardon, Sergeant.

Let's see, where were we? Oh, yes, I had just shot Tommy Tennant.

Well, Sergeant, to continue your interesting,

if somewhat amusing theory, I suppose I shot myself in the hip.

Well, that ain't impossible, either.

Sergeant, you're right. That ain't impossible either.

I'll take this, Swayne. Hello?

-Where are you?

-I'm in the Bronx, at a pay station. Are you all right?

-Sure. How did you get there?

-I don't know.

I was in your den when suddenly, two men appeared.

Before I could cry out, they knocked me cold.

When I woke up, I was in Van Cortlandt Park.

You've been reading Scenarios.

Listen, I'm... Awfully busy right now.

Really, I'd like to talk more, but I can't.

Oh, no, no, no, I...

I wouldn't come up if I were you, it might be embarrassing for you. Just a minute.

-Sergeant, don't you think you could hear better if you plugged that in?

-Huh?

Give me a ring sometime tomorrow. Or better still, I'll ring you.

-Good night.

-Who was that you was talking to?

-No-one you know.

-I'm afraid we'll have to know, Mr Dalzell.

-This is a murder case.

-I beg your pardon. You know Miss Donna Mantin?

-Sure. I seen her picture in the Rotary Viewer.

-You have nice taste.

Thanks.

BUZZER RINGS

You mean you was talking to Miss Mantin?

Sergeant, I bow to your powers of deduction.

Well, I guess that's all for tonight. Come on, Cleary.

I'm sorry, Dal, I didn't know you had callers.

Gentlemen, this is... Miss Mantin.

Inspector Doremus, Sergeant Cleary.

-How do you do. Come on, Cleary.

-How do you do.

Wait a minute. Did he say Mantin?

Nice-looking girl, ain't she?

-I ain't worrying about her looks. Dalzell lied.

-Sure he lied.

-Let's go back and grill them.

-Look, Cleary, you're a good cop.

-But you've got to be a lot smarter before you make a good detective.

-What do you mean?

You can't break him with words, words are his business, he's a lawyer.

Now, just let him alone, and let him do the work for us. Come on.

-All of which makes me a first-class murder suspect.

-That's terrible.

-Poor fella. And my walking in didn't help you any, either, did it?

-No.

However, I'll overlook that if you whip me up a little drink.

-By the way, there are your letters.

-Oh, thank you, Dal.

-I'm really terribly grateful.

-All right.

Don't let me catch you getting mixed up with such people again.

Who was really on the phone when I was supposed to be?

-Well, I suppose I've got to mix my own drink.

-Answer my question. Hello.

Hello, Anita? You can quit worrying, I've got your letters.

Oh, that's all right.

How? Oh, it was very simple.

But you get mixed up with any of that kind of foolishness again and I'm going to tell your husband.

All right. Goodbye, dear.

Ha-ha!

Well, I went for that one, all right.

No, no, Boy Scout, you did a good deed.

Somebody had to do something for the poor girl.

Come on, who was really on the phone before?

You know I take more whiskey than that.

Dal, I'm not asking to be curious, but don't you see, the police

-have caught you in a lie and it may put you in a spot?

-I'm already in a spot.

-Sergeant Cleary insists that I killed Tennant.

-Did you?

No, Inspector, I did not.

-Well, who did?

-I don't know. I've got a hunch. But I'm not sure.

Say, this is swell! Home murder mysteries!

Why go out for thrills when you can have them in your own parlour?

Come on, who did it?

Where were you the night of the murder?

Were you wearing a long black moustache?

-Have you a strawberry mark on your left knee?

-I refuse to testify.

-Your hot water bottle, sir.

-What's that for? Rheumatism?

-Oh, no, Miss.

-He was shot in the...

-Hip.

-Well, why didn't you tell me?

-Madam, this is my wound.

-Swayne, lay out Mr Dalzell's pyjamas and fix the bed.

-Yes, Miss.

-Oh! And he better have a hot bath, too.

-Yes, Miss.

This is probably none of my business,

but, just what do you think you're doing?

-Staying here, to nurse you back to health.

-Donna...

Donna, this touches me.

This is really as nice gesture as you could possibly make, I...

I scarcely know how to thank you.

-I'm almost nonplussed.

-Where are we going?

We're not going anywhere, you're going home! Ha-ha, good night, Madame!

Dal! Dal, you big bully, I'll get even with you for this!

Hey!

Swayne!

Orange juice. Coffee.

Don't spare the horses.

DOOR OPENS

Good morning. Or rather, good afternoon.

What are you doing here?

-I thought I kicked you out last night.

-Oh, that's all right.

We nurses are used to our patients' eccentricities. They often get violent.

-Haven't you been home? Were you here all night?

-Certainly.

You know me, the Florence Nightingale of Park Avenue.

How's your, um, shoulder?

Splendid.

How's yours?

I guess I brought that on myself.

-Which would you rather have first? Coffee or bandages?

-Coffee.

-What?

-Two lumps of sugar and a dash of bitters... Oh, cream!

What a sap you were, to sit up all night!

Who sat up?

I slept in Swayne's bed.

What?

Swayne tried the divan. He reports it's none too comfortable.

Your parents will be utterly charmed by all this.

Oh, I told them I was here.

Good girl. Your father's probably on his way over here now.

-Don't be vulgar. Drink your coffee - you'll need your strength.

-Why?

The police department awaits without.

If you think I'm going to ask, "Without what...?"

-All right, all right. Anyway, "without an idea" is the answer.

-They been there long?

Oh, yes. We've been discussing the murder.

-I've convinced them that you're the guilty man.

-That's nice of you.

Suppose you ask them to come in.

You may come in, gentlemen. He's ready to confess.

Good morning, Inspector. Sergeant.

-I must apologise for...

-It's OK. We're in no hurry.

We want to talk to Mr Dalzell in private.

Oh, by all means.

Swayne! We are not to be disturbed.

Now...

Gentlemen, my head is never quite clear in the morning,

or in the afternoon either for that matter, until I've had my shower. Do you mind?

-You can ask questions there just as well?

-OK.

We can get everything cleaned up at once.

All right, gentlemen, make yourselves at home.

It's a swell bathroom you've got here.

In my place, the tub and shower are all in one.

-Those are very dangerous. You're likely to slip in the tub.

-So I found out.

We've been doing a little checking up.

You'll have to speak a little louder, Inspector.

-Saw quite a bit of Tennant last night, didn't you?

-I thought we covered all that?

-Yeah?

How about admitting you were at the theatre with him?

All right, I was at the theatre with him.

Sergeant, do you mind passing me a cake of soap?

Why didn't you tell us?

I didn't think it mattered. ..Thank you.

Say, what was in that note you got at the show last night

just as the show started?

I beg your pardon.

-I've been belittling you. In my mind, I mean!

-That's OK.

-What did you say was in the note?

-I didn't say.

Come on, Dalzell. Who was it from?

A friend of mine.

-Sure it wasn't from Tennant?

-What?

-SHOUTS:

-Sure it wasn't from Tennant?!

You don't have to shout now. The water's off.

-SHOUTS:

-I know!

-NORMAL VOICE:

-I mean, I know...

-Do you mind passing me a towel, please?

-Sure.

-No, the note was not from Tennant.

-SHOUTS:

-Sure it didn't...

-NORMAL VOICE:

-Sure it didn't tell you to leave the theatre and meet Tennant someplace?

What would be the sense of that? You just told me I was talking with him AT the theatre.

-I understand the show Midnight is a pretty swell show.

-So I hear.

-You ain't seen it, then?

-No.

-Why didn't you stay last night?

-I thought I'd rather take a walk.

That why you took a cab?

You're quite right, Inspector. I have been lying to you.

Yes, I know. Most people do.

Don't misunderstand me, Mr Dalzell. We ain't trying to trip you up.

Frankly, I don't think you killed Tennant.

But your fingerprints were on that gun.

Unless you come clean, you're going to be hooked up with this murder.

Inspector, what I'm refusing to tell you has no bearing on the murder of Tommy Tennant.

Whether or not you choose to take my word for that is up to you.

I guess I'll have to.

However... Mind you, this may be of no help.

-..I have a theory.

-What's that?

That the murder of Tommy Tennant and the disappearance of Mary Smith are related.

Oh, for Pete's sake! The disappearance of Mary Smith is a publicity stunt.

We're working on a murder case!

-Well, that's the only hunch I've got.

-Thanks, anyway.

-Come on, Cleary.

-Goodbye, Inspector.

-I'll be seeing you.

-Oh, we'll be seeing each other. Often.

-You know, I wonder...

-What?

I wonder what the Tennant killing and the Smith girl's disappearance did have to do with each other?

Pardon.

-See that guy?

-Yes.

He's going to have arch trouble in a couple of years, walking on his heels like that.

Don't be so stubborn. What were they asking you?

They wanted to know what you were doing here.

And so do I.

I could have told them that myself.

-I have to see you! I couldn't stand it.

-Oh, hello, Tim.

-I had to find out what happened here last night. Was it true?

-Hello.

-Hello. ..Tell me what happened. Was it really...?

-Nurse, how about a little tonic for your patient?

When...?

When.

-Sure you're not trying to get rid of me?

-Oh, Donna...

Now, when Swayne leaves us, we'll be alone.

Now, tell me what happened.

CHIMING MUSIC PLAYS

Why all the mystery? Why can't you tell me what happened?

It's not usual for my guests to take pot shots at me

and, frankly, I don't care for the custom.

-Why don't you explain things? Don't you think you owe me the truth?

-I have told you the truth.

Now, listen, Tim.

You're free, white and 21 - you can do as you choose.

There's a fella investigating this case by the name of Doremus.

Although he doesn't look it, he's as smart as a whip.

Sooner or later, he's going to find out who was here when Tennant was killed.

He's going to put two and two together and when he does, you're going to be the answer.

Don't you think it'd be much better if you told me the truth?

-Dal, I'd tell you...

-What did you tell Tennant last night?

-What are you talking about? I never spoke to Tennant in my life.

-Why did you kill him?

-I didn't kill him!

I don't know anything about it. Dal, you don't think I'd take a shot at you?

All right, me lad,

you know, they say the weather is fine in Miami at this time of year.

-Why don't you run down there for a while?

-Why?

-You should know the answer to that one.

-I'm not going anywhere.

I'm going to stay right here and find Alice Markham.

All right, then.

Good luck.

-Alice, where art thou?

-Did you ask something, sir?

Oh, yes.

Where is Mary Smith?

I don't know, sir.

Oh, of course you don't.

It's obvious that there's some connection between the disappearance of Mary Smith

and the murder of Tommy Tennant.

But what does Tim Winthrop have to do with it all?

If neither he nor Mary Smith is involved,

-then why is he lying to me?

-I...

He said that he never spoke to Tommy Tennant in his life.

Yet Tennant told me that just after Tim got up and shot at Alice,

he left the theatre. Tennant followed and stumbled on a great story. Now, what's the answer?

-Did Mr Tennant specifically say, sir, that he...

-That's it!

Swayne, that's it!

Tennant didn't tell me that it was the same man. Tennant followed somebody else!

-But that isn't what I was going to say, sir.

-Don't quibble, Swayne. Donna! Donna.

Coming, sire.

We're going to solve the disappearance of Mary Smith

-AND the murder of Tommy Tennant. How do you like that?

-OK, Sherlock. Where do we begin?

At the cab stand at the Prince Theatre. I want you to check up on all the cabs that left there

between 9 and 10 o'clock. Find out who hired them and where they went.

-Swayne. ..You got that clear, Watson?

-On my way, Sherlock.

-Swayne?

-You want to be a detective?

-No, sir.

-That's fine.

I want you to get Abe Ohlman on the phone and ask him to meet me at the King Charles Bar at 4 o'clock.

Then go to the theatre and check how many men left there last night during the first act.

-Who they were, where they went. Any other information you can get. Understand?

-How do I do that?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Abe, where did you first meet her?

-Did she come to you for a job?

-She did not.

I picked her up at the Club Rio.

-Oh, she was singing there?

-No...

No, she wasn't. She was a guest.

Alone, mind you. Out of a clear sky, she jumps up

and begins singing while the orchestra's playing.

And was she terrific!

What, without being asked? Just got up and started to sing? Why?

I found that out later.

She was broke.

She blew her last ten bucks on a bottle of Mumm's for one good fling.

Well, that's not so bad.

This mask business - did she wear it all the time?

No. No, only on the stage.

That was her idea.

When I offered her a job, she insisted on that condition.

-So you signed her up for buttons?

-I thought I did.

I gave her the usual minimum guarantee and a percentage.

We haven't had an empty seat, so she's been drawing 1,500 bucks a week.

Which isn't a bad figure.

But...

Pardon me.

-Where did she bank?

-Search me.

She was paid in cash. She wouldn't take a cheque.

-That doesn't get us anywhere. Did she have any friends?

-I don't know.

-Did she get any mail at the theatre?

-Uh-uh.

-Did she have any visitors there?

-No, not what you'd call visitors.

The only one who ever came to see her was Tennant.

Tennant?

I guess that was professional.

That's interesting.

Where did she live?

-That's one thing I do know. At the Warman.

-OK, you're improving. That's something, anyway.

I'm sure glad you're interesting yourself in this business.

-If there's one man in the world can find this girl, it's you.

-Now...

-On the level. Say,

-didn't you find that Merrett girl when the rest of the world gave up?

-That was luck.

Call it what you like, but please call me when you find her.

-Another drink, Mr Dalzell?

-Yes. Make it two. One for Miss Mantin.

I'm in a disguise!

So I see.

You just wait till tomorrow.

-I'm having some beautiful false whiskers made.

-Yeah?

-You're going to be a lot of help in this case. I thought you were checking taxis.

-I did.

The taxi business is picking up.

It's... Wait a minute. ..20% better this month than it was this month last year.

Isn't that splendid?

I've been getting my information from Frankie Allen.

He's number Y7229

and is an interesting addition to any social group. Writes poetry.

Listen to this.

Life is what you make it

You can't duck life You've got to take it

It don't pay to frown You've got to grin

And no matter what happens

Just keep your chin...up

And then you will find In this world full of strife

You come out on the top

In this...battle of life.

Now, isn't that a lovely...

eight sidecars, ten...

There ain't nobody can come in Miss Smith's room now, the police are here.

It's all right, Belinda. Mr Dalzell is a friend of the management.

-He wants to look around a bit.

-Yes, sir.

-Thanks. I'll see you later.

-The man from headquarters, where is he?

-Ain't no he. It's a she.

In there, looking at Miss Smith's clothes.

All right, Watson. Come out.

Well, what detained you?

HE CHUCKLES

-Any clues?

-No, just clothes.

-Are these all the clothes Miss Smith had?

-Yes, sir. That's all.

KNOCKING ON DOOR

Police.

Greetings, gentlemen.

-Hello, Miss Mantin.

-Hello, Inspector.

Say, what are you doing here?

-Abe Ohlman asked me to have a look around.

-Oh.

I am surprised to find you here.

Oh, you're likely to run into me anywhere, Mr Dalzell.

Evidently my theory about this case did interest you.

No, the commissioner's got me running in circles.

I was going great on the Tennant case when he asked me to find an angle on this case.

-We've got a couple of questions for the maid.

-Go right ahead.

-We're just leaving. Come, Donna.

-Goodbye, Inspector.

-Goodbye.

What do you make of all of this, Mr Holmes?

Hey, I told you there was something phoney about this.

Why did she call him Mr Holmes?

King Charles Hotel.

-Well...

-Say, Inspector, you ain't taking this case serious enough.

-That guy Dalzell...

-He's doing all right, Cleary.

He's doing all right!

You question that maid and find out what he asked her.

Hey, where are you going?

First, I'm going to drop Carford here at the King Charles Bar, to shadow Dalzell 24 hours a day

and then I'm going to 125 West 34th Street to sock the guy on the nose who sold me these arch supporters -

they're killing me! ..Go ahead.

Make it to the King Charles Bar, 15 minutes.

-Good afternoon.

-Good afternoon.

I'm interested in Mary Smith. Do you know anything about her?

-Yes, sir.

-That's fine. What?

-She disappeared from the show last night after the first act.

-No?

Yes.

Life is what you make it

You can't duck life You've got to take it...

That isn't all I know, sir.

What else?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

She used to leave the hotel every morning. 7:45 exactly.

And then walk over towards 5th Avenue.

-Yes?

-Yes.

What else?

That's all.

You practically solved the disappearance(!)

Practically.

I beg your pardon.

Keep your trap shut and keep moving.

Get in the car.

I got your invitation.

Sit down.

Look, friend, I'm your pal.

If you want me to see that you get a big funeral, OK,

but give me the cheque first.

What are you talking about?

You're fooling around with some mighty tough people.

-You?

-Me? No! I'm one of the nicest fellas you ever met in your life.

These boys are just taking care of you. But there's a couple of other guys on your trail

that are different kinds of people.

How do you know that?

Look, Dalzell, let's you and me quit kidding each other.

Didn't you say if anything happened to you, the law would get that cheque?

Don't that mean that I gotta keep you healthy?

Well, that's what me and my boys have been trying to do.

But it ain't no cinch.

You're running all over town sticking your nose into things that ain't none of your business.

Such as...?

Murders and, um, kidnappings.

I see.

-Who did you say these gentlemen following me were?

-I didn't say.

Hmm. They mixed up in the Tennant murder?

Who do you figure will cut the pennant this year?

-With the kind of team we've got, I don't think the other fellas stand a chance.

-Don't be too sure.

Just keep your nose clean, Dalzell.

Leave the Tennant murder and the Smith girl's disappearance for the cops to worry about.

They don't concern you none.

There are two different schools of thought on that subject.

However I get your point.

Toodle-oo.

Coming, boys?

What kept you this time? Did you get mixed up with some other woman?

Martini, please.

Keep it dry, will you?

And real ice.

-Oh, hello, Mantin.

-Am I an orphan?

Two martinis.

I'll take the same. Two martinis.

What did you think of that Mary Smith's room?

Hors d'oeuvres, sir?

Swell. I'm starved.

She must have been a very peculiar girl.

Do you feel like a stuffed egg?

Thanks.

You know, if I or any of the girls I know

lived in a hotel room for a week, we would have accumulated so much

junk that it would have taken a maid four hours to get things packed.

-Fishy?

-No, Martini.

-Thanks-y.

But not Mary Smith. She was the neat New England type.

You could have stripped that room bare in about three minutes.

Say that again.

I said you could have stripped that room bare in about three minutes.

What was that for?

Mantin, you're a bright girl.

But dumb. You don't know a good idea when you see it.

Listen, Mary Smith had a room at the Warman

but she didn't live there.

I'm going home and going to bed.

Well , that makes sense(!)

Mary Smith didn't live at the Warman so you're going home to bed.

It isn't even eight o'clock yet.

Al my life I've said good night to the milkman.

Tomorrow I'm going to say good morning. Cheque, please.

Come on, I'll take you home.

At this hour? I should say not.

Clay Dalzell, are you giving me the run-around?

Donna, don't you trust me?

Yes, but I'm probably wrong.

Which proves that you're not so dumb.

-Have you seen that new trick with a ten?

-No.

Now watch.

-Well, what's the answer?

-Eight sidecars.

HE LAUGHS

Good night.

Now, you better run home and get a good night's rest, officer,

cos we're going to get a very early start in the morning.

-I'm sorry, madam, but Mr Dalzell has retired.

-Is he sick?

No, madam, he just retired early, that's all.

Well, times have changed. Tell him Mrs Classon is calling, will you?

But, madam, I said that Mr Dalzell...

Lovely apartment. Perfectly lovely.

Let me see, this must be Mr Dalzell's bedroom.

No, madam, THAT is his bedroom.

Thank you.

-Who is it?

-It's Jerry.

Jerry Classon. Will you come out or shall I come in?

I...I'll come out.

Well!

-This is a surprise.

-I expected you to call me at the hotel today.

Jerry, as a matter of fact,

I intended to but I've been so rushed...

Will you have a little drink?

No?

Strange bumping into you at the theatre last night, Clay.

Wasn't it?

Brought up a lot of old memories.

You know, I've always felt rather badly that we drifted apart.

Well, Jerry, those things happen. Water under the bridge, you know.

How are you, anyway?

Just the same, Clay. The embers are still...

Oh, oh, oh, oh. You're Mrs Classon now.

Oh, that.

Oh, sorry.

What sort of time are you having in New York?

-Very disappointing.

-Yeah?

I find you treating me like an old friend.

The night I go to see the hit show, the star disappears on me.

I'm frightfully intrigued by it.

Tell me, Clay, what happened?

Have you any idea why she disappeared? Where she is?

Search me.

Come now, Clay, it's common gossip that you're looking for her.

Are you going to find her?

Or have you already found her?

Now, Jerry, you're the wife of a lawyer.

You should know better than to ask a witness leading questions.

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

And what is the meaning of this?

I'm sure I don't know.

And who is this?

I am Mrs Dalzell. Who are you?

This is why you bundled me off into the spare room!

Your cold was worse(!) How dare you do such a thing!

After we've been married for only two weeks,

having a rendezvous with another woman, me right in the same house!

-My dear, I assure you...

-Oh, I'm not blaming you.

I know how he is with the women. How could you be so sordid?

I knew your past wasn't all that it might have been

and I was willing to forget and forgive but...

Oh, Donna, for heaven's sake!

You're a very silly child, my dear.

You'll never hold a husband with this kind of scene.

Good night, Clay.

I'm sure your marriage is going to be very happy.

Oh, it'll be all right, Jerry. Good night.

Where did you get that creation?

Swayne.

And where did you get that woman?

Thanks, Swayne, I'll do as much for you some day.

All right, boy scout, you've done your good deed for the day.

Now, how about tripping homeward?

-No.

-Yes.

I'm on my way to bed. It's no gag.

Not on your life. I'm taking no more chances.

-No?

-No.

Mr Mantin, would you please come over here

and get your daughter and take her out of my apartment?

And you better bring your shotgun, Daddy, we may need it.

Dal?

-What?

-You really didn't know that woman was coming here?

-No.

I knew it. Now I'll let you get some sleep.

How did you know that I wanted to get rid of her?

I didn't.

Well, anyway, good night and thanks.

Good night and don't mention it.

-7:45.

-Exactly.

I'm all-in, Inspector. This guy is doing the first sensible thing he has done all day.

He is down here in the King Charles bar having a drink.

Which is what I'm going to do right now.

It's funny. I get just so far and then - smack -

right into a stone wall.

I finally found a bus driver who remembered picking up

a girl of her description every morning and taking her to

Washington Square but what happened after she got off the bus?

What do you say we give up this detecting business

and go in for some plain or fancy matrimony?

I can't get the thing out of my mind. It's got so many queer angles.

What'll it be - a church wedding or a quiet one at home?

For instance, how did Jerry, uh, whatshername

know that I was looking for Mary Smith?

-Do you talk in your sleep?

-She said it was common gossip.

-That's ridiculous.

-If you do, I could wear earmuffs.

-Did you say something?

-No.

-What's the matter? Are you tired?

Dal, there is a man at the end of the bar who is staring at you.

I thought I recognised you. How are you, Mr Dalzell?

-Oh, yes, yes. Of course.

-I hope I'm not intruding.

-Oh, not at all.

This is Miss Mantin, Mr...uh...

-Classon.

-Classon.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

-Sit down, would you?

-Thank you.

-I was hoping I would find you here.

-Sorry if I kept you waiting.

I usually get here earlier.

Yes, you see, Mr Dalzell,

you and I are both interested in the same woman.

We are both trying to find Mary Smith.

-Or rather, Alice Markham.

-Oh.

Yes, that's why I sent Mrs Classon to call on you last night.

I was using her as a sort of private detective.

Well, it didn't do me much good.

Do you mind telling me why you're so interested in Alice Markham?

My best friend is facing the electric chair, Mr Dalzell,

and only chance I have to save him is to find Alice Markham.

Well, that's interesting.

John Maroney is awaiting trial in Chicago

for the murder of Fred Dexter.

He didn't commit that murder, Mr Dalzell, because when it

happened he was in his own apartment and Alice Markham was with him.

-And he can't prove that without her.

-She is his only alibi.

If she hadn't disappeared at night, John would be a free man now.

Why did she disappear?

I don't why she disappeared in Chicago any more than why

she disappeared in New York.

But if it is humanly possible, I'm going to find her and find out.

Message for you, Mr Dalzell.

-Thank you.

-Thank you, sir.

-Pardon me.

Do you mind me asking you how you discovered

that Mary Smith was Alice Markham?

I wish I had something mysterious to tell you

but it was really quite simple.

I attended the performance of Midnight.

You remember, I met you there.

Someone stood up and shouted, "Alice!"

And suddenly everything became clear to me.

What did you do then?

I immediately went to the lobby and phoned my partner in Chicago

to tell Maroney the good news.

When I got back to my seat, there was no performance and no Mary Smith.

I'm afraid you're a bit of a disappointment to me.

-Yes, sir, we regarded you as a pretty suspicious character.

-Yeah.

Well, it seems pretty hopeless but I promise you this - if we,

my partner and I, do find any trace of Alice Markham,

we'll let you know.

That's very kind of you.

-Dal, we'd better be going.

-Why?

-Swayne.

All right.

Well?

Well, sir, there seems to have been several people who left

the theatre during the first act

but I only was able to get an accurate check on one of them.

He behaved in a suspicious manner and aroused the curiosity of

one of the ushers who happens to be studying to be a private detective.

One of those correspondence school courses.

This man who left the theatre, what about him?

Well, sir, he got up just after the act started

and slipped out of the theatre.

He stopped in the lobby for a moment

and mumbled something about Mary Smith to another man

and then he rushed on out and got into a taxi.

That's the man. Did the usher get his name?

-Does he know where he went?

-He didn't get his name, sir,

but he knows the taxi driver and he found out where the man went.

Well?

The usher wouldn't tell, sir, without getting a reward

so I ventured to bring him around. He is in the den.

Now, now, Swayne, pull yourself together. Bring him in.

Looks like we are getting warm.

Hot, I should say.

Come in, young man.

-How do you do? Sit down, won't you?

-No, no, no. Let me out of here.

I'm no squealer. I wouldn't have come here if I'd have known.

I'm sorry, Mister, honest. I don't know a thing about it.

I wouldn't have got mixed up with this. Let me out of here, please.

Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. There's nothing to worry about.

Come here. Just sit down.

-Let's see, there was something said about a reward.

-Oh, no,

-never mind. I don't want that.

-Yes, yes. There you are. How is that?

Now, this man who left the theatre, who was he?

-Where did he go?

-All right.

He went out of the theatre and he got into a cab

and he went to a gangster's place.

We got him.

Who was the gangster?

Jim Kinland.

But that's me you're talking about.

Yes, sir.

Nice going, Sherlock.

HE GROANS

Swayne, his hat and coat. He's got them on. Let him out.

SHE LAUGHS

Shut up.

Swayne, bring me six bottles of Scotch, four bottles of Vichy,

two glasses, some cracked ice and a lot of aspirin.

What are you going to do?

Get drunk. Watson, you can put away your needle

and throw your fingerprint outfit out the window.

What's the matter, Sherlock? Aren't we going to play detective any more?

No.

When I have got to pay a reward to a correspondence school detective

to find out that the most promising suspect

in the murder case I'm investigating is myself, I had better quit.

I don't want to hear any more about Mary Smith, Tommy Tennant,

murders or anything else.

I guess I wasn't cut out to be a detective in the first place.

You weren't cut out to be a very good liar either, Dal.

What do you mean?

That isn't the reason why you're quitting.

No, you are right, Donna.

The reason I am quitting is because the further I go,

the more obvious it becomes to me that

the only man who could have killed Tommy Tennant is Tim Winthrop.

I can't find a sign that points to anybody else.

Motive, suspicious behaviour, opportunity. Tim is the only man.

Tim's my friend.

If I'm not careful, I'm going to trip myself

and spill the beans right into Mr Doremus's lap.

I don't know but it doesn't seem to me

that Tim is the type of chap that would...

Well, I'll get him out of town for a while.

Meanwhile, we can catch up on our nightlife. Here's how.

SHE CLEARS THROAT

Well, if this is the start,

it's going to be a short life, if a merry one.

Say, am I drunk already? Or is that picture really cockeyed?

No, you're still sober.

-Well, what do you know about that?

-What is it?

That, my fair, young friend is a dictograph.

Congratulations, Doremus, but I'm signing off.

Well, that should win some sort of medal for dumbness.

I quit to protect Tim and turn around

and shout in Doremus's ear that I'm convinced he is guilty.

Whom are you calling?

Jim Kinland.

I'll bet you'd do better with the phone connected.

Oh.

HE LAUGHS

He doesn't know it but Mr Kinland

is about to become the victim of a blackmail plot.

Hello, Kinland? It's Clay Dalzell. I want you to do me a favour.

No, nothing serious.

There's a boy named Winthrop, Tim Winthrop, living at the Amalfi.

Yes, I want you to pick him up and hide him somewhere, will you?

And it's going to be a race.

You've got to find him before the police do.

Well, it's too bad, Jim.

-I was hoping you would be able to find him.

-Well, I couldn't.

My boys have been scouring the town for six hours.

Why, of course, you couldn't. It's as plain as the nose on your face.

I said it was going to be a race and Doremus has won. Tim's in jail.

That's fine.

I suppose all you want me to do now is go down and get him out of there.

Well, let me tell you right now,

cheque or no cheque, the deal is cold.

-Police headquarters.

-Hey, wait a minute.

-Inspector Doremus.

-You keep me out of this, Dalzell.

Hello, Doremus? Dalzell.

Congratulations. I understand you solved the Tennant killing.

-Well, I haven't arrested anybody yet.

-Oh, that's funny.

I understood... Hey, Inspector, can I ask you a straight question?

Go ahead. I've got nothing to hide.

-Did you put a dictograph in my apartment?

-No.

-But it ain't a bad idea.

-Thanks.

DOOR BUZZER

-I wonder if Doremus is lying.

-Doremus don't do much fooling around.

-Is this the guy?

-What happened to him?

-I thought I told you no rough stuff.

-We didn't do it.

-That's the way we found him.

-Take him in the bedroom, boys, will you?

Swayne, Get the bed ready and call a doctor.

-Somebody sure gave him a nice going over.

-He is in considerable pain.

I have given him an opiate that will make him feel pretty groggy.

-Is it all right to talk with him?

-Perfectly.

You'll find him quite rational for periods but don't tire him too much.

-Good night.

-Good night, Doctor. Thank you very much.

Tim.

Tim.

Tim.

Tim, it's Dal. You understand? Dal?

-What happened?

-Dal, find her. Find her. They'll kill her.

-You've got to find her. Find Alice. They beat me to find out.

-Who?

Tim? Who?

I don't know.

Tim, listen to me. Tim.

What did Alice Markham have to do with Maroney?

Maroney. Alice hated him, Dal. He ruined her father. He...

It killed him.

Tim. Tim, what was it Maroney did?

Find her, Dal.

Find her. Find her.

Hmm.

-You know, that's a very funny gag.

-I don't see anything funny about it.

-They might have killed the boy.

-No, I wasn't talking about him.

I was talking about what he said.

Now, look, Maroney meets her old man, tells him he is a big-shot banker.

Gets the old man's dough to invest and goes south with it.

Well, the shock kills the old man

and the girl comes to Chicago to see Maroney.

He has her come to his apartment.

Well, knowing the kind of guy Maroney is,

it don't take no blueprint to tell me what happened there.

At the same time, over on the Southside,

Fred Dexter is busy getting himself bumped off.

Now, the cops know Dexter and Maroney are on the out

so they pinch Maroney.

Now, this Markham dame, she don't like Maroney.

First, for what he did or tried to do to her up in his apartment.

Second, because she blames her old man's death on him.

Now, she is his only alibi.

So she disappears to get even and Maroney,

who has committed murder all his life

and gotten away with it, is going to burn for a murder he never committed.

Now, don't tell me that's not very funny.

How do you know all this?

Well, you heard what the kid said, same as I did.

All adds up, that's all.

Well thanks, Kinland.

You know, this is the first time this case has made any sense to me at all.

Oh, that's nothing.

I don't suppose you want to let me have that cheque right now.

I don't suppose.

No, I didn't think so.

LAUGHS

Good night.

Dal, did you find him? Oh, hello, Mr Kinland.

-I haven't had a chance to thank you for those letters.

-That's all right.

-Night.

-Good night, Kinland.

-What happened, Dal? Did you find him?

-Yes, we found him, all right.

Oh, am I glad. I got so excited I just couldn't stay home.

Madam, you don't know nothing.

Things have been happening around here so fast,

I can't keep track of them.

Young man, have you had your dinner yet?

Well, no, now that you mention it.

You can talk just as well while you're eating and vice versa.

Come on.

You know, the funniest part of it all is...

TELEPHONE RINGS

..Jim Kinland knows all about what happened to

Alice Markham in Chicago.

Hello?

Yes.

No, Mr Dalzell is not at home.

Who was it?

Mrs Classon, sir.

Swayne, do you mind my asking just why you take it upon yourself

to tell Mrs Classon that I'm not here?

I'm very sorry, sir.

Miss Mantin's orders.

Oh, so you're busy running my life again.

I'm sorry, Dal.

I forgot to mention it.

But I decided that Mrs Classon is nobody for you to play around with.

Oh, Mantin, you're a swell gal.

But the next time you stick your nose into my business...

Now don't take that attitude.

A girl has to be careful about the reputation of the man

she's going to marry.

And yours certainly can't stand being mixed up with that woman.

Let me amaze you with a list of the lady's boyfriends

since her marriage to Mr Classon.

First there was a gentleman named Howard Smith,

who was rapidly succeeded by a Mr Steve Stanislaw.

A truck driver by profession.

And next came a gentleman, since deceased as you already know,

one Fred Dexter.

And then there was a brief

and a merry whirl with a Mr John Maroney, and then a lovely little...

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

Did you say Dexter AND Maroney?

Numbers three and four.

How did you get this?

For the neat little sum of 14.60 for a long-distance call to Chicago.

On your telephone, by the way.

First Dexter, and then Maroney.

No, third Dexter and fourth Maroney.

And it was common gossip.

Known to the man on the street.

Mantin, that's as silly a thing as you have ever said.

That is covering a lot of ground.

If Mrs Classon was carrying on with Maroney,

and it was common gossip, then Classon must've heard it,

and if he knew that,

then he certainly wouldn't be defending Maroney, would he?

And if you don't know the answer to that one, I will tell you. It's no.

GUNSHOT

Wait here.

What is it?

Is he dead?

Give me a hand.

Tim? Tim?

What was it? What happened?

At the window. Someone with a gun.

I found yours and fired.

Did you recognise him? Who was it?

It was a woman.

"Although a week has elapsed since the murder,

"Inspector Doremus, in charge of the investigation,

"refused to make any statement other than the customary one that

"police are investigating the case.

"Clay 'Sherlock Holmes' Dalzell

"is just about as gabby as the inspector.

"His assistant, Dr Donna 'Watson' Mantin,

"is completely in the dark as to his plans."

Swayne!

-Yes, sir?

-Are you sure no packages have come for me?

No, sir, nothing, sir.

-Hmm, all right.

-You want a drink, Dal?

No. I wonder why that stuff doesn't come.

What is it, Dal, what are you waiting for?

-Mary Smith.

-In a package?

Just about!

DOORBELL RINGS

I'll get it.

Ah, boy, I thought you were never going to get here.

It took longer than expected, but I hope it will be satisfactory.

Thanks. Your hopes are as nothing compared to mine. Good night.

-Mantin? Come on.

-Come on where?

-You and I are going to rent an apartment.

-Swell.

Now we're really getting somewhere.

Well, it isn't exactly what I would have picked,

but it's probably better than Niagara Falls.

GRAMOPHONE PLAYS

# Midnight in Manhattan

# Turns night into day

# Light stars in all Manhattan

# When the rest of the world's tucked away

# Manhattan... #

Maybe I have the wrong idea about this whole thing.

# ..When dawn's peeking through. #

I have now come to a conclusion. One of us is crazy.

That's great.

If you're referring to that record, it's terrible.

MUSIC STOPS

Isn't that Mary Smith's voice?

-That's right.

-I didn't know she made a record without an orchestra.

Police headquarters.