On the Beat Page #3

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Boss, you want your holster?

No, no, no. Tonight is for the lovings.

You like this Rosanna?

Oh ho! Sure thing.

She have the curves in the right places.

l don't think she's too sold on you.

Oh, she play hard to get.

She change her mind

when l take her in my arms

and give her the big kiss

and whisper in her ear,

''Darling, you look so pretty,

''so very, very pretty.''

Everything, is it fixed for the job tonight?

You'll have the old girl's jewels

tomorrow.

Ah, Giulio, mio bambino!

Oh, you are handsome tonight!

(Ribs crunching)

Oh, mama mia!

l smell pretty good, too, huh?

Yeah, like a scent factory.

Shut your mouth. You will-a spoke

when you are speaken to.

Now, get out.

You too, mama mia. Here are the tickets

for the Albert Hall.

For the opera?

No, for the wrestling.

ls good fun, you like.

- (Bones cracking)

- Mama!

Ciao!

ls good. At last we are together.

Mia carissima Rosanna, quanto sei bella!

Your eyes are as blue

as the Bay of Naples.

Lasciatemi stare.

Your lips sono magnifici! Vieni, vieni!

Vorrei tornare in ltalia.

Oh, you want play?

Rosanna, put your arms around me

and enjoy yourself.

lt don't hurt. lt don't hurt!

Let that be the last time

you impersonate a police officer.

Just a minute.

Where are you taking that uniform?

Home.

That's Metropolitan Police property.

That's my dad's.

Go on, hop it.

Hey! No, wait. No, don't do it!

Don't do it!

Help! Anybody can swim?

Anyone can swim? There's a girl...

Ti odio!

Perch non mi lasciate tornare in ltalia.

Shh! You'll have the police here.

l've only just got out.

l will never marry you. Never.

l haven't asked you to, have l?

l am sorry.

l think you are somebody else.

- You're foreign, ain't you?

- But you are not Giulio?

Oh, no, l'm Norman.

Erm...Norman Pitkin, that is.

l'm erm...

l'm a policeman.

A policeman?

Your uniform, where is she?

Oh, well... You know, l haven't been...

you might say, not properly accepted,

not as yet.

Just a question of time.

They don't understand.

Erm... What is your name?

Rosanna.

Yeah? And where do you live?

l have nowhere to live now.

Oh. Well, how would you like to come

round to my place for the night, then?

l just want to get your clothes off.

l mean...to get into dry ones.

- Coming, then?

- Grazie.

Grazie. That's thank you in foreign,

ain't it? That's nice.

Morning, Mr Pitkin.

l've brought you a nice cup of...

Mr Pitkin!

Mr Pitkin?

You're not Mr Pitkin.

No. No, l am Rosanna.

What are you doing here?

Mr Pitkin, he brought me home

with him last night.

- Oh, did he?

- Oh, no. You don't understand.

Mr Pitkin saved my life.

Did he really?

Oh, yes, he was so brave. Thank you.

He dive into the river. l was drowned.

Drowning.

And he rescue me from drown.

Just like Mr Pitkin! Where is he now?

Sergeant Wilkins to see you, sir.

Tell her to come in.

Well, Sergeant Wilkins?

l proceeded to Maison Giulio,

where, after a preliminary examination,

he styled my hair in the modern manner.

Yes, yes. Go on.

l observed there were microphones

hidden under all the tables.

l then exposed some movie film

of the actions and behaviour

of the suspect, Giulio Napolitani.

l have here some still photographs

enlarged from the film.

Thank you.

So this is Giulio Napolitani.

Well, l'm damned!

Hobson, Belcher, come in here, quickly.

Hobson, Belcher, who's that?

- Giulio Napolitani, sir.

- No, no, no!

Who does it remind you of?

Who is it like?

Who's the little fool in the car park,

washes the cars down?

Pitkin, sir.

We have to plant someone at

Napolitani's to get the evidence we need.

- Right, Hobson? Belcher?

- Yes, sir.

Well, there's your man.

Take away the moustache, cover the hair

and who have you got?

(Both) Pitkin!

Pitkin? Oh, but sir, that'd be madness.

Forgive me, gentlemen.

l was carried away.

Just for a moment, l thought...

- Sergeant, a glass of water, please.

- Yes, sir.

(Phone)

Yes?

Home Secretary, sir.

- Yes, sir?

- (Ranting furiously)

Yes, sir.

We think we have a plan, sir.

There's no other way. Get Pitkin.

Hello, lnspector. l hear you're not going

to the Yard today. Got the sack?

When you're as important as Mr Pitkin,

you'll be able to take a day off.

Good afternoon.

l would like to talk to Mr Pitkin.

Who shall l say is enquiring?

- Superintendent Hobson, Scotland Yard.

- Oh, yes, he's right here.

- Hello, Pitkin.

- Hello, Super.

l should like a few words with you.

Do you mind?

This is a private police matter.

Oh, no, of course not. Allow me.

Norman.

Thank you.

So you see, Pitkin, although technically

you will still be a car park attendant,

in actual fact you will be doing

a job of national importance.

But l got the sack.

That's another job!

Now, what's your answer?

lf l'm to do a police job,

l want to be in the police.

That's out of the question!

Now, Pitkin, Sir Ronald Ackroyd

has personally authorised me

to offer you a raise

of half a crown a week.

Half a crown?

Money isn't everything.

lt's either the police or nothing.

So there it is. Hobson's choice, ain't it?

Or rather, Mr Hobson's choice.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

- You're too small!

- l'm not.

- Yes, you are!

- Oh.

Well, in that case, l see no point

in discussing the matter any further.

Good afternoon, Superintendent.

- Now, wait a minute, Pitkin...

- Good afternoon, Superintendent.

Madam, may l phone Scotland Yard?

Oh! Well, of course.

- The number is Whitehall 1212.

- l'm aware of that, madam.

(lnaudible)

May l use your... Oh.

(Knocking on door)

Do come in.

Thank you.

Sir Ronald Ackroyd, Commissioner of

the Metropolitan Police, for Mr Pitkin.

Now, what's all this l hear, Pitkin?

- He insists on joining the force, sir.

- We've told him he can't.

They're right. l'm sorry.

Then l am not interested

in returning to Scotland Yard.

Not unless l'm a proper policeman,

like my dad was.

Yes, splendid looking fellow.

Of course.

- Taller than you.

- He was older than me.

l hope you're not annoyed because

l sacked you yesterday, Pitkin.

l was a bit, cos you was messing about

just as much as l was, weren't you?

Truth? Truth?

All right, Pitkin, perhaps l was.

Now, let's discuss this matter as friends.

- Pot of tea?

- No, thank you.

What's your first name, old chap?

Erm... Norman.

Well, then, Norman, isn't it reward

enough to bring a criminal to justice?

Oh, now, wait a minute, Ron.

Let's be fair.

l am not going to do it,

not unless l am in the police.

Not what you might call

or commonly refer to as ''in''.

All right, Pitkin. lf you insist.

- But the regulations, sir!

- Change them. He's the key to this job.

Now, does that satisfy you, Norman?

What? Being the key, Ron?

Does that satisfy me?

R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-Ron!

Oh, Mr Hobson,

so now we're all as one, ain't we?

Hey, what's your first name?

Cecil.

Bert.

Aw, Cec, this is it!

l'm just going to pop upstairs and...

Bert Belcher,

you could have had me over then.

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