Nightmare Alley Page #6

when I went out.

I wanted to get

a line on you.

Maybe we can do

a little business after all.

You make one of these things

every time you give a treatment?

How could you do

such a horrible thing?

You don't realize

what you've got here.

We could set this town

on its ear.

Or is that what you wanted

to talk to me about?

Are you insane?

That's not a bad hunch, lady.

If you got clients

like that Grindle...

you must be up to your knees

in that Lake Shore and Lake Forest mob.

And with that stuff

you've recorded...

you have no idea

what I could do with it.

- In a nightclub.

- Are you crazy?

I'm getting out of there

as soon as my contract's up.

You should see

some of the letters I get.

Couple of big spook people

are after me now.

But I've got an altogether different idea.

Look here, Mr. Carlisle.

If you ever so much as mention to anybody...

Please.

Who do you think I am?

I haven't sufficient flow of speech

to go into that.

But I want you to know that I make

these records only for my personal study.

Mm-hmm.

- You're not a regular M.D., are you?

- Of course not.

But anything my patients reveal to me

is as sacred...

as though it were given under

the seal of the confessional, is that clear?

All right. All right.

You don't have to get on your soapbox.

I'm going to be strictly on the level

about this whole thing myself.

Get out of here. I should have known

you were that kind of...

Uh-uh-uh.

Takes one to catch one.

Get out.

Stan, you're not listening to me.

Oh, I'm sorry, baby.

What were you saying?

- I've got a surprise for you.

- What kind of surprise?

You'll see.

It's not locked.

Hello, Stan.

You very surprised?

Who wouldn't be?

The... The carnival

was rained out in Kankakee...

so... so I thought that now

would be a good time to... to...

A good time to what?

- Well, just get together again.

- Sure.

What's the use

of people being mad at each other?

It sure turned out for the best, huh, Stan?

You can't say it didn't.

I'll say. Look at you.

Look at Molly. You're the tops.

You're going like a million dollars.

When you come home at night,

you're singing like a lark.

Now, what could be sweeter?

Come on, professor,

give your old pal a kiss.

Well, you're right at that.

Bruno.

Excuse me

while I get out of these clothes.

Same old Stan.

Molly, it doesn't look like

you'll shop for baby clothes this year.

- I won't?

- Mm-mmm.

Oh, Bruno? Here.

Oh, throw that away.

Well, thanks, Stan.

You look nice and comfortable.

A man's coming to give him a massage.

He's not sleeping so good.

- You still monkeying around with those things?

- Yep.

What's wrong with them?

Everything they say about me has come true.

Another wire from New York.

Is that where you're opening next?

Oh, they're offering us the moon.

But Stan hasn't made up his mind yet.

- You're making a mistake.

- Who?

You. If you make the change in the work

you're thinking of.

- You told her about it.

- How could I?

- I haven't seen her since...

- How else did she find out?

- I haven't said a thing.

- I didn't want you to breathe it to a soul.

She didn't tell me about it.

It's all here, plain as day.

It doesn't say what this new stunt is,

but you're going to the top like a skyrocket.

Stan, turn that card over

and we'll see how it'll end up.

- Who else did you tell?

- Look, Stan...

- Turn that card over.

- What do I care what the card says.

Leave it alone.

The hanged man.

- You better watch yourself.

- Is that bad?

Not if he doesn't go against it.

But I thought...

Wasn't that Pete's card?

Sure. Now it's yours.

You hear that? I told you that new stunt

was all wrong. I told you...

Oh, don't be a sap.

This is the stuff she feeds to chumps.

- It's nothing but a deck of gypsy cards.

- I don't care.

- Zeena believes them.

- Sure I do. So does Stan.

- You're crazy. Why should I?

- They were right for Pete, weren't they?

Get out.

I know what I'm doing.

I don't need any help

from a couple of cheap carnival freaks.

Go peddle your stuff where it belongs.

Get out!

- Stan!

- Who are you calling a freak?

Bruno. We gotta get that 1:30 bus.

Come on.

- Zeena, I'm sorry.

- Forget it.

What got into you,

acting so crazy?

It's all your fault.

I'll tell you something again.

- Stan, I never...

- Don't lie to me.

You did write to her about it, didn't you?

- Excuse me. I forgot my cards.

- Oh, yes.

Oh, there's one on the floor.

The hanged man.

- Feeling better?

- Not a bit.

Yeah, you're still sweating.

I'll have to close up those pores.

This always seems to freshen you up.

Stan!

What's the matter with him tonight?

- What's in that bottle?

- Nothing.

Just pure alcohol.

Same as I always use.

I felt pretty shaky about the whole thing,

but I didn't let it ride me.

Until tonight, the smell of alcohol

didn't bother me at all.

I hadn't thought about Pete

in a long, long time.

But seeing Zeena again

and all that stuff about the cards, it...

it sort of turned

my stomach inside out.

That's quite natural.

We call it total recall. Go on.

That's all.

There's nothing more to tell.

I walked around for an hour or so

trying to cool off.

Nothing worked,

so I-I came here.

Quarter after 7:
00?

I've gotta beat it.

Well, what do you make of it?

I think you're a perfectly normal

human being.

Selfish and ruthless

when you want something...

generous and kindly

when you've got it.

Although Pete died

as a result of an accident...

you naturally felt a sense of guilt

because you profited by it.

Am I right?

Yeah, I guess so.

As I understand it,

you never told Zeena or anybody else...

about giving Pete that bottle.

You think I'm crazy?

I think you showed good sense.

You might have had a hard time of it

trying to explain to the police...

under the circumstances.

Maybe I didn't show such good sense

in spilling it to you.

Then what did you come to me for?

I figured that if anyone was gonna help me,

it'd have to be somebody like you.

Thank you very much,

Mr. Carlisle.

What a chump I was

to fall for Zeena and those cards.

Letting a little thing like a whiff of alcohol

make me blow my top.

Then you're not going to let it

influence you in the least?

Nope. I'm going right ahead

the way I figured.

The spook racket.

I was made for it.

I suppose you expect

to be paid for this.

- What do you think?

- How much?

- Nothing at all.

- Hmm?

Professional courtesy.

Well, maybe I can return

the favor someday.

- Maybe you can.

- What do you mean?

Remember?

Takes one to catch one.

If this is answered right,

I'll pay you all 10%.

Have you an answer

for this question?

- Oh, I'm afraid not.

- Why?

Because that has to do with the stock market.

A labyrinth whose eccentricities no mentalist

of my acquaintance has ever been able to solve.

As a matter of fact,

I tried it two or three times myself...

and find that I can do

much better at the racetrack.

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