Fourteen Hours Page #2

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difficulty with Mr. Reisman.

- Come on.

- What if he should jump?

What if we left now,

and he really jumped?

We would still be late to Mr. Reisman.

The important thing with Mr. Reisman

is punctuality.

With him, punctuality is a principle.

Gee, he doesn't look very old.

I wonder what-

what kind of trouble he's in...

what made him so bitter.

Maybe-

Maybe someone was cruel to him...

or maybe he's just lonely.

I suppose you could decide to kill yourself

if you were just lonely enough.

Oh, come on. Let's go!

I- No, I can't.

I wish I could help him.

It's the worst thing in the world

to be lonely.

There must be hundreds of people

like that in New York-

lonely and desperate.

Why don't the police do something?

I heard they can't get hold of him.

Every time they get close,

he says he'll jump.

Excuse me.

I was speaking to my friend.

- She left. She had to go to work.

- Oh.

Well, would you like a mint?

Cinnamon flavor.

No, thank you.

I don't think we're acquainted.

If you're upset about anything,

I'd like to help you.

I'd like to talk to you.

Where's the cop?

- Cop?

- Yeah. The one that was up here first.

Which one?

I don't want to talk to anybody else.

Will you come in

if we let you talk to him?

I'll have him up here right away.

- Do you know who he means?

- The flatfoot that boxed the report and came up.

- Let's get him.

- What's he want to talk to him for?

What does it matter

as long as he talks?

If he'll unload his troubles on somebody,

we've got a chance to get him in.

Maybe our only chance.

Let's get him.

- What was his name?

- I don't know, Chief.

Find out. Check. See who boxed in.

Get him up here on the double.

- All right.

- He's probably working the street.

- You get a description on the air?

- Sure. I sent it downstairs.

All right.

Hey, fella.

We'll have your friend

up here in a minute.

He appears to be about 23 years of age.

He's wearing neatly pressed gray flannels

and a white shirt.

He has brown eyes, wavy brown hair.

He's about five feet, nine inches tall

and weighs about 155 pounds.

This is extremely important.

If you recognize this man,

call Spring-7-3-100.

From your description, that's

Charlie Dunnigan, all right. Traffic "A."

Okay. Moksar wants him right away.

Find him and get him up there.

- Right. You men know him?

- Yes, sir. We'll get him.

This is George Putnam speaking,

ladies and gentlemen.

The speed with which this crowd

has gathered is absolutely amazing.

People on all sides of us-

thousands of them.

It's impossible to estimate from our point

of vantage down here on the street...

exactly how many people are here...

galvanized, held spellbound

by the breathtaking spectacle...

of a young, unidentified man

perched on a ledge...

15 stories above the street.

I'm gonna turn you over to Bob Roberts now,

who's at a window across the street.

How does it look from up there, Bob?

There's not much happening right now.

There seems to be some sort of delay.

The man we have just identified for you

as... Deputy Chief Moksar...

comes to the window at intervals,

says something...

but, of course, from this distance,

we can't tell what he says.

The boy appears cool and detached,

just waiting.

He's thinking about something.

Perhaps reviewing his life.

At moments he teeters precariously

on the edge of this ledge...

calmly looking down

into the abyss below.

- What is he thinking?

- Miss Kelly, will you turn that off, please?

- Yes.

- Try Mr. Fuller again.

Can he somehow be persuaded

that his life is not entirely worthless?

Considering the shortness of time...

perhaps we should proceed

without him.

- Mrs. Fuller?

- Yes?

I've worked out

the disposition of the children...

with Mr. Fuller's attorney.

Let's run through it once

while we wait.

"The above entitled action,

having been brought on by plaintiff...

forjudgment of divorce"-

- Stay here, folks. Clear one side, please.

- The chief said-

Hold that elevator!

Moksar's been waitin' on you.

Wait a minute here.

Where are you going?

I'm the Reverend Dr. J.C. Parkinson,

the boy's pastor.

His parents have requested me to-

What church do you represent,

Doctor?

I work in faith and magnetism.

I saved 17 souls last year.

- Souls respond scientifically to prayer.

- That's fine. I know.

You better keep going here.

We're busy here.

Come back another day.

Good-bye.

So, right away I hear his voice,

I know something's screwy, see?

I figure he's up to something,

so I open the door careful, and I make a grab-

All right.

Clear it here, fellas. Clear it.

Hey, fella. What are you,

this joker's father or something?

- What'd you say to him?

- I don't know, Chief. I don't remember.

- First thing that came into my mind.

- Okay, okay.

Whatever you did, do it again.

Let's get him in off there. Come on.

Sorry, Chief, but I don't know

what you want me to do.

You got to him. He loves ya.

He won't talk to anybody else.

He doesn't like me. He doesn't like

these big brain specialists, so you're it.

- I'm puttin' it up to you.

- Look, this is a little out of my line.

- I don't know anything about loopies.

- That's in your favor.

Just be natural with him.

We tried to be, but we're doctors...

and he's probably had

a bad experience with doctors.

He smelled us coming.

Just talk to him.

- What do I say?

- It doesn't matter. Anything.

Anything to sublimate his drive.

Easy, Doc. I took a little French,

but I didn't keep up with it.

Sorry. Break his stride,

spoil the momentum he's building up.

If you can make him talk,

he'll feel better and loosen up.

Is he a real loopy or is it an act?

Let's say he has a problem.

We can be sure of that

even if we don't know what it is.

And it seems enormous to him,

bigger than it is.

He's out there considering what seems to him

to be the only possible solution.

Come on.

How you doin', kid?

How you feel?

I-

I'm... holding up the parade, I guess.

Don't worry about that.

I... feel better now.

I- I can breathe better.

Swell!

It's gonna be a great parade.

You buy a shamrock?

Uh-

Are you Irish?

I mean, uh, Irish derivation.

I don't need any signs, huh?

Well, you don't have to be a harp

to wear green today. Everybody does it.

It's one of those things. Everybody gets

into the act. You feel good about it.

Hey, suppose I get the hotel

to fix us up a room on the backside...

and we can sit out like this

and see the parade.

How 'bout that?

N- No, I-

I've got to think this through.

Maybe I can help you.

I- I've got to think this through first...

b- by myself.

I'm s-sorry

about holding up the parade.

Most of'em must be watching me.

They're all watching you.

What was it you wanted

to talk to me about, kid?

You asked for me to come back, didn't you?

You sent for me.

Why? Why'd you do that?

Everybody lies to me.

If you mean I didn't give you any bull,

that's okay. I appreciate that.

I'm not gonna try

and feed you any now either.

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