Harper Page #5

He's a private detective working for us.

Yeah, I used to be a sheriff,

till I passed my literacy test.

Now, wait a minute.

Gentlemen, please!

- All right. You make the delivery.

- No.

I want Beauty and Albert to do it.

And what'll you do?

Are you going to rescue my Ralph for me?

Oh, now, Elaine, I don't want you to worry.

How can I worry with men like you on the job?

- Now, there's a pretty brave woman.

- Yeah. Gutty as hell.

- Hi, there.

- Hi.

Boy, that's gonna look terrific,

you get that unscrambled.

You want a nice table?

Well, later, maybe. You can help me, though.

I'm looking for this fella, see.

I met him at the ballpark and he said

he'd meet me here, but I don't see him.

- Well, what's his name?

- That's just it. I don't know.

- Now, wait a minute.

- No, it's okay.

I owe him some money on

a bet. That's the thing.

He's about 40. He's very tall.

Wears a windbreaker and Levi's,

and he drives this small van-truck.

Come again on why you wanna find him?

Well, I owe him money on a bet, see?

And you're just eaten up

with honesty, is that it?

You know what happens to

bookies that don't pay off?

I knew you was a bookie

the minute you came in.

No kidding.

You could really tell that I

was... I mean, you can really tell?

You been waiting tables as long as

I have, you get to know the types.

But you can't be no help, huh?

Eddie's who you want.

Eddie's somebody.

Only he ain't been here for two

or three nights. Three nights.

I remember 'cause he wanted

to make a long-distance call

and the boss didn't care for that,

'cause sometimes he gets stung

if it's over three minutes.

Well, Eddie made the call anyway.

Collect. I don't know to where.

How much you owe Eddie?

Where's the boss?

Behind the bar.

Give me a can of beer.

Say, I'm looking for a fellow by the

name of Eddie. I owe him some money.

Well, he called me long-distance

from here about three nights ago.

- You from Las Vegas?

- Well, yeah. I just come up.

You know, I would've

guessed you were from Vegas.

No kidding. You can tell, huh?

Oh, really tell?

You must be physic.

Psychic, you mean.

You know where Eddie lives?

Well, give me some dimes then, will you?

Oh, terrific.

Hello?

- Oh, Mrs. Harper?

- Yes.

- Mrs. Lewis Harper?

- That's right.

Oh, thank heavens.

You see, we've just picked your name

from this enormous drum full of names,

only you had to be there to

win, and you are, so you have.

Win?

Six one-hour frug lessons, absolutely free.

Yes. Well, I'm Austin Schwartz-Marmaduke

of the Schwartz-Marmaduke

Institute for Ballroom Education.

Well, you must have heard of

us. We're just off Wilshire.

Yes, next to the Frug Foundation.

The Miracle Mile, actually.

I don't want any frug lessons.

Oh, but of course you do, dear lady.

Well, just think how terrific you'll feel

the next time you and

your husband try fruging,

how endlessly feminine you'll feel.

My husband is dead.

Oh. Well, that's too bad.

- As a matter of fact...

- No, as a matter of fact, you're wrong.

His death did nothing but

serve the cause of mankind.

He was a fool, a sadist,

a functioning pathological pervert.

You mean he actually...

Oh, but I do. Oh, he was

grotesque in all ways.

I mean, can a soul be atrocious?

Well, I'd never...

His was.

He was a degenerate's degenerate.

You won't believe this, Mr. Marmaduke,

but he used to call me

up on the phone sometimes,

pretending to be other people.

He actually thought it was funny.

Well...

Listen, I'm in a bar at Castle Beach,

but I'm hiding from an idiot cop in

the men's room. Now, that is funny.

You're right. That is funny!

- Lew?

- Yeah?

- Lew?

- What is it?

Kiss off.

Oh, come on now. Don't hang up.

What are you? You lost your sense of humor?

- Okay, put them up.

- Put what up?

Your hands.

I just couldn't. I mean, I really couldn't.

- How'd you get here?

- Matches in Eddie's pocket.

- How did you know his name was Eddie?

- A waitress told me.

Why don't you kiss off?

- The Sheriff told me to stay on the job.

- Well, then, we're all safe.

This bartender here told me that Eddie

phoned you long-distance in Las Vegas.

Yeah, well, I was trying

to pump the bartender.

- Pump. It's a gag.

- That's funny.

Now, why don't you tell

me what you found out?

Well, I found out that Eddie phoned

Las Vegas from here three nights ago.

Sampson was in Las Vegas three nights ago.

It all fits. It all fits!

Oh, yeah, it all fits.

You know, you ought to stick around.

This place is a hotbed of information.

Oh, yeah, right here.

Go ahead.

What are you doing here?

I got the call. I've been converted.

Is there no end to your sacrilege?

Stay right where you are, fella.

Please. I don't want any trouble.

I said please.

Where's Sampson?

Stay right there.

Tell them to stay there!

Well, well. Do get up, old stick.

No, I kind of like it down here.

Come, come, Mr. Harper. You

mustn't give way to the sulks.

I'm shocked, Mr. Troy. A man of your eminence

involved in something as seamy

as smuggling in immigrant labor.

Yeah, well, you are right,

you know. It is beneath me.

But it pays so well.

You know, they are wonderfully cheap workers.

And the poor idiots, they

pay me to smuggle them in,

and then ranch owners and

the farmers, they pay me, too.

Disgustingly lucrative.

But, as you suggest, hardly

enriching to the soul.

More important, Mr. Harper, at

the moment, how is your soul?

I'll pay you to let me go.

Well, you're rather low on bargaining

power, aren't you, old stick?

Not necessarily. Where's Sampson?

Ralph Sampson? Well, dear

boy, how should I know?

And the 500,000?

No more riddles, old stick.

Your driver kidnapped Sampson two days ago.

Eddie Rossiter?

Tonight he picked up a half

a million in ransom money.

Well, he hasn't got the brains.

Got enough brains to be

a fall guy. He's dead.

Whoever killed him got the money.

Well, I see, and that's

why you're here, old stick.

You suspect me.

I do if you drive a white convertible.

Mr. Harper, I am surrounded

by very devious people.

Claude, we are leaving the temple.

Collect our latest truckload. Take

them to Bakersfield, to the ranch.

Get the cash, lose the truck.

Meet me at my place afterwards.

Puddler, was Betty at the club tonight?

- No.

- Is she still driving the same car?

The white convertible, yeah.

Does she still live in the same place?

No, she moved to a beach house

somewhere, couple of weeks ago.

- You know where it is?

- No, man. She don't ask me down there.

You take Mr. Harper to the usual place.

Keep him there till you hear from me.

Au revoir, Mr. Harper.

Now, you make yourself at home, old stick.

Now, you and me are gonna have

a nice, quiet time here, huh?

You're not gonna cause me any problems.

Leave it open. I need the air. You stink.

Man, you got a bad mouth.

You're rotten. I can smell you.

You be a good boy.

'Cause I can give you a lot

more than you can take. You hear?

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