Murder, My Sweet Page #6

Let's go.

We were sitting down to soft-boiled eggs

and scotch. You wouldn't join us?

The last time I saw you,

I gave you good advice.

- I guess it didn't take.

- I didn't bother your little pal Amthor.

I didn't get around to it. He got to me.

- He gave me quite a party.

- How did it go?

What'll it buy me? This is straight.

You'd like to get Amthor,

I'd like to help you.

He annoyed me a little.

Let you have it cheap.

I just get to finish my dinner.

- Okay.

- Come in, Nulty. Make yourself at home.

Amthor's a tough cookie.

He works some complicated

jewelry routine on gals...

who come to him

with broken-down libidos.

- I think Marriott was his contact man.

- Let's get to the new part.

The jewelry Marriott was buying back

was a jade necklace...

belonging to one of Amthor's patients,

worth about $100,000.

Marriott might've been crossing Amthor.

Anyway, he fumbled the ball.

- It's a lot of theory. Let's go.

- Amthor figured I picked it up.

He figured wrong. I disappointed him.

I didn't have the jewelry and I didn't talk.

But he has a little rest home

where you learn to talk.

It's operated by a guy

who calls himself Dr. Sonderborg.

He's a whiz with a hypo.

It's at 23rd and Descanso.

- Who owns this jade?

- I told you. One of Amthor's patients.

- By the name of?

- I don't know.

Sorry to bother you, Miss Grayle.

When were you out last

to your father's place in Brentwood?

Not for several days. Is something wrong?

I'm buying your information this time.

Don't make a habit of helping me.

I might get grateful and lock you up.

- How could he know about me?

- I don't know.

That's what happens when a cop

goes to college. He gets too smart.

Fix your face.

We're on our way to Buckingham Palace.

What is it?

It's funny.

About every third day, I get hungry.

Always have to stop and eat something.

You haven't got a razor, have you?

Never mind. I'll have to stop at my place,

anyway. This suit's beginning to crawl.

I think I've got another one

under the mattress.

- I'm a little beat for this kind of work.

- You know, I think you're nuts.

You go barging around

without a clear idea of what you're doing.

Everybody bats you down,

smacks you over the head...

fills you full of stuff...

and you keep right on hitting

between tackle and end.

I don't think you even know

which side you're on.

I don't know which side anybody's on.

I don't even know who's playing today.

Whatever's happening,

you must believe in Father.

- He's no match for anybody.

- Take it easy.

Randall probably picked up a scent

leading from Marriott to Helen.

He may not have reached your father.

Anyway, we'll know soon.

Skip the water and make that with scotch.

Save time.

He must be in his workshop.

Father.

- What are you going to do?

- I don't know. I was frightened.

- I am frightened.

- The police been here?

- Yes. What's it all about?

- We don't know yet.

Did they talk to your wife?

No. She's not been here

since yesterday morning. I thought...

- Has she been with you?

- What did they have to say?

They seemed interested principally

in our beach house.

It was rented to Mr. Marriott

indirectly through my bank.

That probably held up Randall

a couple of days.

- Okay. Let's have a look at it.

- Don't go to the beach house.

- Yeah, why not?

- Because it must stop.

- The whole thing's gone too far.

- Or maybe it's coming too close?

I don't say you killed Marriott, but you

could've for a good, old-fashioned motive.

Look, pop, the cops are moving now.

They're mad.

They're going to tag somebody.

As long as I'm on the payroll,

let's understand each other.

I don't work by push buttons.

I stop and I go

but I've got to have reasons.

Forgive me, Mr. Marlowe.

Forgive me, please.

It's unnecessary for me to say

I'm an old man. You can see that.

I only have two interests in life:

My jade and my wife.

And, of course, my daughter here.

But my wife's the most important.

- Do you find her beautiful?

- Why not?

She is beautiful, isn't she? And desirable.

Maybe you think it's improper for an

old man to have a young, desirable wife.

I've played a little game with myself.

I pretended that she would have

become my wife...

even if I'd been unable to give her wealth.

I've enjoyed pretending that.

It's given me great happiness.

Pride, of course.

But now I'm losing her. I don't know why.

I don't understand what's happened.

But I'm losing her.

Ironic that it should be

because of my jade.

Because of that, a man has died.

A paltry, foppish man of no consequence,

who's better dead.

Nevertheless, he's dead

because of my necklace.

I don't know why. But it must stop.

It must stop, Mr. Marlowe! It must stop!

What do you want me to do about it?

You must go no further.

The matter must be closed.

I'll pay you well.

Now this is beginning to make sense

in a screwy sort of way.

I get dragged in, get money shoved at me.

I get pushed out, get money shoved at me.

Everybody pushes me in,

everybody pushes me out.

Nobody wants me to do anything.

Okay. Put a check in the mail.

I cost a lot not to do anything.

I get restless. Throw in a trip to Mexico.

I'll be right back, Father.

- Have you got a key to the beach house?

- But you said...

I bowed out. I stopped. He thinks it's over.

That doesn't stop anything.

These things don't work like that.

Okay, so I go hide under the covers.

Do the police stop?

Does Helen stop? Do you stop?

- What do you mean, "Does Helen stop?"

- I don't know.

If I always knew what I meant,

I'd be a genius.

But I know this. A cancer doesn't

stop growing just because you ask it to.

You're vicious. You take some

horrible sort of satisfaction...

in seeing people torn apart!

They're headed for it, anyway.

You're headed for it.

What you're hanging on to will smack you.

If I fold now, it smacks you later.

I stick, it smacks you sooner.

But cleaner.

Maybe that's why I'm sticking.

I don't know, I'd stick anyway.

Because a guy who hired me got killed.

I don't want my kids to think

I had to hit a guy 20 times to kill him.

I could bust in,

but a key would make it simpler.

You drive.

- Is that you?

- Is what me?

That nice, expensive smell.

Quite a lad.

- Someone's been here.

- Sure.

That's the first thing Randall does

after a man's murdered.

Mess up his house.

Here.

- Does that prove something?

- No.

Might have found my name

in the classified section.

That's what he said he did.

Or maybe somebody phoned him

and told him about me.

But you didn't have anything to do

with all this until he came to see you.

- Or did you?

- I don't know.

There are a lot of things I don't know.

Some things I'll never know.

- The only man who can tell me is dead.

- Marriott?

Yeah. All I can do is keep guessing.

Let's get out of here

and go guess someplace else.

All I can do about you is guess.

You've only told me you went to the

canyon because you like your father.

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