Doctor X Page #3

like an eternal old scrubwoman.

Like what?

Pardon my poetic effort.

Yes, but just what do you mean by that?

I'm afraid we've taken up too much

of Dr. Rowitz's time.

Thank you, Doctor.

That was very, very interesting.

- Good night, gentlemen.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- Good night.

You know, this is the doctor's

particular hour for observation,

and the moon doesn't wait, you know.

Did you notice the face on that fellow?

That sailor who saw

the scrubwoman killed tonight

says the murderer had a face

that was horribly disfigured.

Rowitz certainly fits the description,

all right.

Gentlemen, I don't believe

that Dr. Rowitz could commit a crime.

He has such a lovely nature.

Why, he's the author

of several volumes of poetry.

Hello?

- What are we gonna do?

- We're powerless unless he helps us.

You know that as well as I do.

We've exhausted every clue.

He can help us find the murderer,

if anybody can.

And I'm gonna put plenty of pressure

on him and make him do it.

A little nervous perhaps,

but nothing more.

Oh, ridiculous.

All right. All right.

You go back to sleep, dear.

Good night.

Doctor, if I permitted you

to conduct your own investigation,

how long would it take you?

If you leave me alone,

I can conduct a series of tests,

which in 48 hours will conclusively prove

whether or not the killer is a member

of this academy.

In the meantime, I should like to check up

on all your collaborators.

Who's there?

Hey, what're you doing up there?

I'm a building inspector.

I work nights so I won't get sunburned.

I asked you what are you doing up there?

I'm a somnambulist. I probably came up

here to have my head examined.

You come down from there, or I'll...

Now, just a minute,

I'll be right down, honey. Just relax.

Everything is gonna be all right

and on the up-and-up.

I'm not used to these.

These fire escapes are a sideline with me.

Now everything is gonna be...

There's nothing to worry about.

See, Police Commissioner Stevens

is upstairs,

and I'm taking care of the outside.

- By the way, what are you doing here?

- I'm Miss Xavier.

And we're not accustomed

to having strange men

climb all over our fire escapes.

I'm not accustomed to having strange girls

sticking guns in my stomach.

By the way,

you're just the person I wanna see.

I wanna ask you a few questions.

Could you tell me the whereabouts

of your father

during the last four hours?

How do you spend your evenings?

I mean, have you ever noticed the Doctor

acting strangely?

I'm sorry,

but I can't answer those questions.

The Doctor hasn't been very well lately,

and I don't like policemen or anyone

to disturb him.

- Good night.

- Just a minute.

- Have you got a permit to carry that gun?

- Yes, I have.

Good night.

All right. I'll agree to lay off for 48 hours.

But I give you my word,

if you don't succeed,

I'll come in here, seal every door,

place everybody under technical arrest,

take fingerprints,

conduct a rigid inspection.

I don't care if the whole world knows it.

There have been six murders committed

all in the same circumstances.

The evidence points here.

- But, Commissioner, all I want is a chance.

- You've got it.

- Forty-eight hours. Good night, Doctor.

- Good night.

Good night, gentlemen.

Meddling fools.

This way out, gentlemen. If you please.

- Who're you?

- I am Dr. Xavier's butler, sir.

My nerves are all shot.

That dumb, potbellied, flat-footed cop.

I dashed that off in five minutes.

I think it's pretty swell.

- What do you think?

- It's okay.

But you stick on Dr. X's trail,

and you get a picture of the Doctor

and a statement, too.

Oh, no, not me.

Listen, I wanna get off this story.

Put me back on crossword puzzles,

covering woman's clubs,

- anything, will you?

- Say, what's the matter with you?

What's the matter with me? Nothing at all.

Only I spent all last night

laying next to a bunch of stiffs,

looking at a lot of goofy guys.

I let a dame poke a gun in my stomach,

and then I let a dumb policeman

slip me a trick cigar.

Say, you want

to draw another paycheck, don't you?

Certainly, that's my aim in life, but I'd like

to keep out of the bughouse to enjoy it.

Eddie, when is Lee Taylor's week up?

Oh, wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Can't you take a joke?

All right, keep moving,

but get a picture of the Doctor.

Here, have a cigar.

How do you do? I'm Mr. Taylor.

- You ain't a reporter, are you?

- I should say not.

Well, that's good. We've been overrun

with them all morning.

- Gee, they got us goofy.

- I know just how you feel, Miss Xavier.

- I ain't Miss Xavier.

- Well, that's funny.

I was told that she was a good-looking girl

of about 20.

I'm 21-and-a-half.

Oh, fine. Pleased to meet you.

Gee, ain't you the kidder, though.

That's another thing in your favor.

That shows that you have

a sense of humor.

What do you want the miss for?

- My grandmother sent me.

- Your grandmother?

Won't you take these flowers?

- For the miss.

- Come in.

Just a minute.

Miss Joan, there's a man down here

wants you for his grandmother.

- I beg your pardon?

- Oh, how do you do?

I didn't know you... I'm awfully sorry.

You know, I felt sure that

I'd hear you coming before you entered.

Well, I suppose I could go back and cough.

Oh, no, no, please don't bother.

Stay right here.

- You're sure I'm not disturbing you?

- Not at all. Why do you ask?

You're so obviously at home here

that I feel like a guest.

- You don't mind if I sit down?

- Oh, please do.

Oh, how nice. Thank you.

And since you're my guest, won't you...

- Won't you want a cigarette?

- No.

What I want is to know

if you're really going to take it.

- Going to take it?

- Yes, my picture.

It's sticking out of your right pocket.

Well, isn't that the funniest thing?

You know, this is really all your own fault.

You have absolutely no business

photographing so attractively.

- Thank you.

- And I have a habit of collecting pictures

- of beautiful girls.

- Yeah.

- Well, and pictures of their fathers, too?

- Pictures of their fathers...

What fathers?

My father's picture's

sticking out of your left pocket.

Well, can you beat that?

How do you suppose that got there?

Just who are you, anyway?

Because you're such a good scout,

I'm gonna break down

and confess and tell you.

I'm Lee Taylor of The Daily World.

- Then you did it.

- Me?

It was you who printed that horrible story

of Father in this morning's paper.

- Horrible? You ain't read nothing yet.

- What do you mean?

What I mean is... Well, don't you see?

Your father's a famous scientist.

He's been called in on a sensational case.

- That's news.

- But you've upset him terribly.

Now, on account of that newspaper story,

he has to go some other place

to carry on his investigation.

- He hates publicity.

- You mean to tell me he's leaving town?

Who's going with him?

What time are they leaving?

- What station...

- That's none of your business.

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