Chicago Deadline Page #2

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Hey, where's your glass?

I just came in.

Well... thank you very much.

Here you are.

Oh, thank you.

Well, it's like everybody showed.

I guess nobody could believe it until they saw it.

I still don't believe it.

Here's to you.

Thanks.

Who are you?

Ed Adams.

Hello, Ed.

Hello?

Leona.

Hello, Leona.

Who are you a friend of?

George's.

Oh, George has been holding out.

I mean...

Are you looking for anybody?

Marcia Grantland.

It would be Marcia.

Wouldn't it?

You want me to find her?

No, not right now.

Well! Have some more.

Marcia's been holding out, too.

Can't say that I blame her.

She is a bit secretive sometimes.

Yeah, that's true.

I don't think she'd like you looking at me like that.

Leona, darling.

Hello, Janet.

Darling, what do you think about Hazel?

She finally made it, didn't she?

Oh, my goodness! You've just been decorated.

Pardon me.

Let's move out of here before we get trampled.

Where can we go? I'd like to talk to you.

Well, come on.

Here.

Leona...

Yes?

Do you know Rosita?

Who?

Rosita Jean D'Ur.

I little dark-haired girl.

You do get around, don't you?

No, I'm just checking out what you know.

Are you?

Are you, really?

Your face is flushed, baby.

All right. I guess I had it coming to me.

I'm a little dizzy.

I don't get along very well with champagne.

And you shouldn't have looked at me like that.

Well, wait a minute.

Hi!

Have fun, kiddies. Don't mind me.

What's the matter?

That was Marcia Grantland.

Your girlfriend, remember?

Do you mind?

Who are you, Ed?

I'm a reporter.

Do you want to tell me about it?

You could come along with me.

Where?

Why not see where it takes you?

Hi-ho!

Come on, now, drink your coffee.

Don't you think a dash of brandy would make it

a bit more piquant?

Don't you think you'd better get sober first?

I have been misinformed about newspapermen.

Look, I want you with a clear head

and a working memory.

But I've told you everything I know.

I only met Rosita twice or three times at parties

a couple of years ago.

Come on, drink your coffee.

Well, anyway, as a reporter you're a dud.

Why, I could have gotten much more out of me.

The guy you asked for just came in.

Where?

At the end of the bar.

As a matter of fact you should be plying me with liquor

and roosting me up.

Spingler?

Yeah.

Did you hear about Rosita?

What about her?

She's dead.

Something?

No, thanks.

That's too bad. How?

T.B.

I'm from The Journal. We're trying to find somebody

who can tell us something about her.

Why?

So we can notify her family. They want to bury her.

I don't know her. But I'll take her to her funeral

if you keep me quiet.

I'll pick you up between nine and ten.

Ed, are all reporters this busy?

Or is it just those interested in dead people?

Ten thirty at the latest.

Then we'll try a little of that roosting up.

See you later, baby.

Yeah?

I wanna see Solly Wellman.

Who are you?

Why don't you stop?

Hello, Solly. I'm Adams from The Journal.

What do you want?

I want to find out where Rosita Jean D'Ur came from.

We'd like to send her home.

What have I got to do with that?

Well, you know her.

Who says so?

She does.

What did she say?

She said:
If anything happens to me,

get a hold of Solly. He'll know what to do.

Who did she say it to?

Me.

You're a liar.

How do you know?

Try again.

Okay, Solly, I'll level with you.

Rosita's dead. If you give us a lead and identify her...

she'll be buried and sent out of town.

The cops will forget about everything.

Otherwise, if she isn't identified and the body isn't claimed...

they're gonna keep looking.

What killed her?

Hemorrhage. T.B.

All alone?

Sure. There's no trouble about it there.

We'd just like to notify her folks.

She hasn't any folks.

If we were sure of that we'd quit.

How long did you know her?

A couple of years.

Remember the first time you met her?

Yeah.

She was a sweet kid, wasn't she?

Yeah.

One of the most beautiful girls I ever saw.

Seeing her lying there in that cheap flea-bitten hotel, alone.

Who threw her to the wolves, Solly?

Adams!

That's enough.

Some other time when you check that artillery.

Get those arms down.

I don't know Rosita. I never heard of her.

If I were you, you didn't either.

Drop it. Forget it. She's poison.

Go!

Ed, Howard wants you.

Hello, Ed.

Hi.

What does Howard want?

I can't keep up with a genius like yourself.

But you've done something.

There's a detective and G.G.Temple in there.

Temple?

Hey, watch out for this for me, will you?

Just in case I get pinched or have to run out of here

too fast to pick it up.

All right, Ed.

Come in.

Oh, hello, Adams.

You know both these gentlemen.

Yes, I think so.

Mr. Temple has just been telling me

about a phone call he had from you.

Yes, sir.

He's also been explaining that his connection

with this Jean D'Ur woman was entirely respectable.

He told the police all he knows about her.

Yes, sir.

Where are you getting your information, Ed?

How did you learn that Mr. Temple knew this girl?

I don't think it's anybody's business how a reporter

gets his information.

There's no crime involved in this case.

As far as I know.

They're trying to identify the girl.

Well, so am I, boss.

It happens to by our business.

And it happens to be mine also.

Your business as I understand it is to write the news factually.

Not a lot of irresponsible insinuations.

I haven't written anything yet, Mr. Temple,

except the simple story of a girl's death.

Do you intend to connect me with this girl?

That depends.

It's obviously factual, as you put it,

that you knew her.

It's also obviously factual that you're scared out of your pants

or you wouldn't be here.

Adams!

Okay, boss.

Why are you so interested in this girl?

Simply routine.

A kid dies alone in a cheap hotel.

Without friends. relatives or anyone caring

whether she's buried in a grave or in an ash-can.

That's all the story there is to it, at first.

Just a simple little human interest yarn.

Then you start bouncing the corpse down the street

and suddenly you have the whole place all to yourself.

That interests me.

How did you get Mr. Temple's private number?

Maybe he goes around writing it on the walls

of pay stations.

Ed, I know you too well.

You don't fool around with a little thing like this...

unless you've got something.

What is it?

Sorry.

You will tell us, Ed.

Really?

Adams, you know perfectly well that The Journal

can't have any part in the withholding of evidence.

I know that, sir.

Unless you really have something.

We drop it.

Simply because this girl once knew a few prominent people...

Se we forget that when you mention the name Rosita Jean D'Ur

people run and hide, check out of hotels...

And we aren't even curious about why they do that.

Who runs and hides?

Anyone I ask about her.

Look at Temple. Why is he here?

Because he's afraid he might get his name might be linked up

with some dame nobody ever heard of?

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