Picture Snatcher Page #4

I don't wanna find you here

when I get back, Danny.

- Pat goes to bed at 10:00.

All right, Dad. You'll be late.

Good night, lieutenant.

- Captain.

Ha-ha. Thanks to me.

Why so thoughtful?

I'm getting 60 bucks a week now.

That's enough to get hitched on.

We mustn't talk about that.

I've got to finish school.

Oh, what can college teach you

about love?

That's a career in itself.

But I'd like to be a reporter,

meet interesting people.

Aw. One reporter in the family is enough.

You know, baby...

...if I could pull something real big,

they'd double my dough in no time.

I'll be a top-notcher

your old man was talking about.

But it's gotta be something big. Big.

Use your brain.

Try and figure something out.

Electrocution of a woman

doesn't take place every day.

If we can get a picture

inside the death house, what a scoop.

The town'll never stop talking about us.

If you weren't the boss,

I'd say there's a ghoul in you.

- It's impossible, it can't be done.

- Why not?

Because Mr. McLean didn't have initiative

enough to get us an invitation.

- I got in without an invitation.

- It took you three years to get out.

A good education. Three years ain't long.

Takes four to get out of college.

Why are we discriminated against?

Why can't we get an invitation?

Because the warden,

a gentleman of discernment...

...says Graphic is not an ethical paper

and doesn't belong.

I suppose we might

as well forget about it.

I'd give my right eye

and a thousand dollars...

...for a flash of that woman in the chair.

I'll take that bet.

And never mind the eye.

- Hello, Clarence.

- Hello.

Another one.

- I want to insult my liver.

- Hello, Pete.

- Still on the Record?

- Yup, still the people's champion.

- Leave the bottle.

- Let it ride for me.

What are you doing,

stocking up for a bender?

I got a bad stomach.

I never go to an electrocution

without lining it.

- Did you get that assignment?

- Here's my invite.

If I had taken that murder in Miami,

I wouldn't have had to go.

What are you crabbing about? You don't

wanna be in Florida this time of the year.

Besides, you got swell company.

The top-notch men on every sheet.

You don't know what you're talking about.

I've covered electrocutions before.

They leave a bad taste in your soul

for months.

And this time, it's a woman. Ohh.

Well, if it ain't

the Graphic News star reporter.

- You call the shot.

- Going up to the burning tonight?

I'm on another job. I ain't got the time

to watch them burn any crazy moll.

Well, you can't be so hot yet.

Could I see you private, Danny?

Pardon me.

What's on your mind?

Look like the score's against you.

- I got worries.

- Think of the guys on the bread line.

I'm leveling. Business is rotten.

Jerry's been hitting the skids

with Olive breezing him along.

- We've got no leadership.

- That's what they say around election time.

He's even knocking off gas stations

and you know what that means.

- Yeah, that's bad.

- When you was with us, we carried rods.

- But there never was a murder rap to beat.

- Listen, Leo, I ain't interested.

I'm getting good dough

and, in my heart, I was always a reporter.

- Well, uh...

- Listen, forget it, will you?

- Old friends?

- Yeah, old and ripe.

- Ripe enough to throw away.

- Jerry the Mug and his sidekick, Leo.

You know everything, don't you?

That's why I've gotta go up

to the death house tonight.

Oh, I wish I could go.

I wish you could, too, in my place.

Pardon me.

- Hi, Danny.

- Hello, Pete.

- Anything I can do for you?

- Not a thing in the world. Not a thing.

Oh, soap, Danny.

Towel, Danny.

- Towel.

- Come here. Right in here.

Nice soft, clean towel. Right here.

Come on.

Right here. Right there. That's it.

Danny, open the door, Danny.

Danny.

Open the door, please. Danny boy.

Open it.

Danny. Danny, come on.

Danny, let me out of here.

Hello. Hello, Pat?

I won't be able to see you tonight.

- Why not? Where are you going?

- I'm going on an assignment.

Best newspapermen in America

are gonna be there.

Wanna know what it is? Hold your breath

and then start cheering for me.

I'm going back to Sing Sing. Ha-ha-ha!

Are you Mr. F.L. Strange of the Gazette?

Yes.

Empty your pockets,

deposit contents here.

All accounted for except the Record's man,

Mr. Peters.

We'll give him a few minutes more.

Hiya, boys.

Hiya, men, how is it?

Hiya, keeps.

Hiya, Captain Nolan.

- Are you Mr. Peters of the Record?

- I'm Danny Kean, remember, don't you?

Sure. I remember you.

I didn't know you're a reporter.

Peters is sick. I'm sitting in for him.

Sorry, Danny, but the invitations

are not transferable.

Warden Long is very strict about that.

Oh, let me in, will you?

I'm a reporter. I gotta make good.

Sorry, Danny, but rules are rules.

- Call one of our paid witnesses.

- I thought you were on the Graphic News.

I quit for a better job. I'm on the Record

now, a regular newspaper.

Come on, cap, be a good guy, will you?

Speak for me.

I'll see what I can do. John.

Give Danny a chance. He's one of your boys

and this means a lot to him.

Well, if it's all right with you,

I'll be willing to take a chance.

You're responsible for these boys,

you know.

Sure, it's all right with me.

He's not a bad sort.

I'd hate to see him flop on the new job.

Check in Danny Kean as okay.

Representing The Morning Record.

Thanks a million, keeps.

You too, Captain Nolan.

Here, empty your pockets.

Deposit contents in there.

When I left,

I swore nothing would drag me back.

- You never know, do you?

- What made you change your mind?

Homesick, sap.

I'd rather take a beating than do this.

I should have taken that coal-strike

assignment, I'd be on my way by now.

These things don't faze me at all.

I can watch them all day long.

- I've been in a death house before.

- What do you mean?

- Remember when they fired Bull Wickerson?

- Yeah, two years ago. I saw it.

He was a pal of mine. Whistled "Alexander's

Ragtime Band" on the way to the chair.

Boys. There are a few things

I'd like to say before we go.

It's the warden's prerogative to ask

who he wishes for the execution.

Knowing the importance of this one, he

invited as many of the press as he could.

I want to ask one thing.

That you do not afterward write anything

which did not transpire here.

We do not give signals.

The condemned is not under any narcotic.

This is simply an organized manifestation

of the will of the taxpayers.

You will sign the regular witness form.

And since after the execution...

...you will all be anxious

to write your stories...

...I'll ask you to do it now.

Another thing, it is the common belief

that when the current is thrown on...

...the lights go dim all over the prison

and all the other inmates howl and cheer.

That isn't true.

We get our current

from a separate dynamo.

The rest of the prison

knows nothing about this.

I place all of you on your

honor as gentlemen of the press.

Coming in, Nolan?

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