Brighton Rock Page #2

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It is him, Pinkie.

I never forget a face.

"Police... appeal for... witnesses. "

One minute we were sitting

here on the pier, just here,

and now...

- Oh!

- What now?

I almost forgot.

A man from Pom Pom's took a photo.

Of all three of us.

Me and Hale and the other man.

I'll show you. I've still got the slip.

- I don't understand...

- Have you lost it?

It was in my coat pocket, Pinkie.

- You must have dropped it.

- I put it here.

- It fell out.

- I buttoned it.

- Never mind.

- There'll be a picture in the window.

Never mind!

He was frightened, Pinkie, Fred Hale.

So what?

He probably owed the other bloke money.

It happens all the time.

Chances are, the other geezer

was a bookie.

Did he look like a bookie to you,

the other fella?

I wouldn't know.

You probably didn't get

a good look at him, then.

Oh, yes, I've got a memory for faces.

I like you.

So I'm gonna warn you.

This bloke, Hale,

I heard he was mixed up in stuff.

What stuff?

Never mind what stuff.

You've heard of Peggy Baron, right?

You must have.

It was in all the papers.

She got herself mixed up with a mob

and they came after her.

What happened to her?

She wouldn't keep her mouth shut.

So they splashed acid in her face.

She lost an eye.

Acid?

Sulphuric acid.

It burns.

- Smell it.

- Pinkie!

I'm only pulling your leg.

It's not acid. It's just spirit.

I had to warn you, that's all.

You and me are friends, aren't we?

I wouldn't want a friend

with a face burnt off, now, would I?

You tell me

if anyone asks any questions.

Anyone, mind.

You get me on the blower straight off.

Brighton 33945.

You have to swear to me

you'll keep your mouth shut, Rose.

I swear.

Spot of bother?

No bother.

She's safe.

No b*tch is safe.

'# I gotta a woman and I love her mad

'# I gotta a woman

and she's mine all right... #'

She loves me...

She loves me not.

- What do you want, Spicer?

- Don't you talk to me like that.

You're just a kid. I run this mob now.

I've got experience.

I've put in the years.

- It's a lot of years.

- Maybe. But I've got nous.

'It's 8am.

Here are the news headlines. '

Ssh.

'Brighton police

today intensify their hunt

'for the killer of ex-naval officer

Frederick Hale

'with a county-wide appeal

for witnesses.

'The body of Mr Hale,

who died from severe head injuries,

'was found beneath Palace Pier,

Brighton, yesterday morning.

'Youth riots in Clacton last weekend... '

- Pinkie. If that girl talks...

- She won't talk.

Not if she knows what's good for her.

Enjoy it.

Rose, can I have a word with you?

That man you met.

What man?

The bloke on the pier -

the one who tried to pick you up.

Don't be shy. You were late

for the afternoon tea, remember?

- Yeah, I remember.

- What did he look like?

Ordinary.

- Skinny fellow?

- Not especially.

- With tattoos?

- I can't remember.

Is this him?

I wasn't wearing my glasses.

H is name was Fred Hale

and he was a friend of mine.

- A friend?

- Yeah. A gentleman friend.

Nothing serious but...

I was fond of him.

Poor old Fred.

I'm sorry, Miss Arnold.

What's the matter?

You don't look well, sweetheart.

Nothing's the matter, Miss Arnold.

I just...

I'm sorry to hear about your friend,

that's all.

My father's not been well

and I haven't been eating properly.

- I should get back to work.

- You have a lie-down in my office.

I should get back to the afternoon teas.

I said have a lie-down in my office.

- I'm here to collect.

- You

Excuse me.

This is a top-notch business.

It needs top-notch protection.

Your lot's glory days are over.

Kite's mob?

They couldn't even protect Kite.

I can't pay you both.

I would have been stabbed in the heart

if I hadn't paid Colleoni.

Look around you.

Colleoni is running things now.

And bigger, better than Kite ever could.

Take my advice, kid.

Clear out of Brighton.

Christ Al-f***ing-mighty.

You're in the sh*t now, boy.

I've got protection.

Look at him, Dallow.

He's got protection.

That's so you know who's protecting you.

Oi.

Expenses.

- Where next?

- Home.

We lay low till we know

we're in the clear for Hale.

- Spicer's orders.

- Spicer's milky.

We lay low and they'll bury us alive.

There's betting shops all over town.

- Colleoni's betting shops.

- It's our town, ain't it?

Colleoni's boys.

That squealer Corkery.

F***!

You run, you're no better than Spicer,

Cubitt.

I could do with the exercise.

- Leave it to me, Pinkie.

- No, I ain't running.

Get out the way.

Hello.

- Pinkie?

- Who wants him?

# Well we don't care what they say

# We're gonna keep on loving

this way... #

- There's no Pinkie here.

- Is this Brighton 33945?

You've got the wrong number.

There appears to have been some mistake.

Mr Colleoni is expecting someone...

...older.

His boys tried to nab me, didn't they?

If talking's what he wants,

he might as well talk to me.

- I doubt Mr Colleoni...

- He can talk to me.

Who sent you?

You did.

I mean, who's running your mob

if Kite's dead?

I am.

Something funny?

- What happened to Hale?

- What happened to Kite?

There's a difference.

- I don't see no difference.

- You don't see much.

Kite was an accident.

People make mistakes.

Now, as it stands,

the bogeys have turned a blind eye

to our little contretemps.

But if I give the signal...

Gambling is a legitimate business now,

Mr Brown.

I keep it clean... and tidy.

They like it that way.

Then you'd better stop trespassing.

It ain't healthy.

I like you.

You're a promising young man.

That's why I'm talking to you

like a father.

You need a job, you come to me.

You can't damage a business like ours.

I could damage you.

Mr Corkery's been complaining.

You don't do that again. Not here.

Brighton's on the move.

She's not what she used to be.

And you, whoever you think you are...

...you won't last.

I haven't even started.

What do you want?

Oh, hello. Got a warrant?

Bogeys... doing Colleoni's job for him.

Are you seriously telling me

that you are running Kite's gang now?

What good is a young lad like you

up against the Colleoni mob?

How much is he paying you?

Right...

Let's talk about Hale.

I'm looking into things, Pinkie.

- Motives.

- Bully for you.

Kite was like a father to you.

- You got nothing on me.

- Yet.

But sooner or later...

someone's gonna talk.

And when they do...

...I'm gonna put a rope around

your scrawny little neck...

...drop you through a trapdoor...

...and bury you in f***ing lime.

He came to me for help.

Well, a girl feels sorry for a geezer.

Don't have to get mixed up in things.

Well, someone's got to.

It's the least you can do is

ask questions. I'd do the same for you.

Would you?

Course I would.

I mean, who is this Kite fella

that you say Fred got into a fight with?

Who was Kite?

I telephoned you just like you said, to

tell you someone was asking questions.

Only the man who answered sounded

just like...

Come on!

We're going for a walk.

So you're saying one

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