Scandal Sheet Page #7

Well, I can't imagine

why you'd shed any tears over it.

Well, for what it's worth,

your resigning knocks the props

out of a lot of things for me.

That couldn't have come

from Steve McCleary.

Okay, pass it. But I didn't figure

your burn at Chapman and me

would be bigger than your wanting

to do something about Charlie's murder.

Don't start playing me

for a hollow-headed female now, Steve.

Your only interest, and Chapman's,

in Charlie's death is exploiting it

- for all the circulation jumping it's worth!

- Julie, I'm not digging on a story now

just for the school-boy bang of seeing

my name over a sensational yarn.

Yeah, that's right, I had to get hit pretty hard

before I smartened up.

But now I'm leveling

on the Charlie Barnes business.

Well, if I can believe what I'm hearing,

this certainly is a different McCleary.

I've been working night and day.

All I've done is run the local leads

to a dead end.

There's only one gimmick left to follow.

This picture, the marriage in Connecticut.

It's odd the person who married them

hasn't recognized it.

Unless he's dead or hasn't seen the picture.

Yeah, I thought of that angle, too.

But it's a million-to-one shot.

A guy would have to be an elephant

to remember a face after 21 years.

Tell him about the elephant we met

on Fifth Avenue, about four years ago.

We were walking along the street when,

right out of the blue,

a complete stranger stopped me.

It turned out to be the little preacher

who married Julie's father and me

in Portland, Maine, 23 years before!

- And he actually was able to recognize you?

- And I'd put on a little weight since then.

They say a New Englander

seldom forgets a face.

Crazy odds, but what can we lose?

Yeah, get this picture

to every churchman, judge

and justice of the peace in Connecticut.

- It's certainly worth trying.

- It's a big job. Compiling lists,

- checking out leads.

- It can be done.

The two of us could handle it, Julie.

Well, I'd like to, Steve, but I've resigned.

And I'd sooner drop dead

than ask Mark Chapman for my job back.

- You dog!

- It never got past Baxter.

A list of churches in each town

is no problem.

The judges and JPs we can get

from the state legal directory in Hartford.

Yeah, you start packing.

Enough for a couple of weeks.

I'm going to the office

and get the lab boys started

on knocking out a few hundred circulars.

But suppose Chapman says no

to my working with you on it?

Why should he? Anyway, I'm not going

to tell him anything until we're ready to go.

Tonight sometime.

Mom, you think it's safe for me to travel

out of state at night with this young man?

Just so he doesn't misconstrue

the meaning of "freedom of the press."

Hey, you wonderful woman.

I'll check with you for dinner.

Steve, this is shot-in-the-dark stuff.

Mark, more rabbit-brained ideas than this

have paid off.

Your hottest lead is right here in town

where the murders were committed.

Yeah, our hottest lead was in town,

but it dried up like a puddle in July.

You're looking for a mental marvel,

a guy who can recognize somebody

he'd seen for 15 or 20 minutes

at a wedding ceremony

he performed 21 years ago.

How do we know he only saw them

for 15 or 20 minutes?

Maybe they were members of his church

or were married by a judge

or a justice in their own town.

Steve, you're off

on a needle-in-a-haystack hunt.

You can find a needle in a haystack

if you look long enough.

You don't think I'm gonna let you

hang around up there indefinitely, do you?

You won't have to. A week, probably.

Julie Allison's coming along to help me.

It's all arranged.

It's all arranged. And that five grand reward.

You arranged that, too?

No, you did, or will.

Mark, what's eating you?

I'm only checking out every possible angle.

Kid, I don't want you to beat your brains out.

We can get just so much

out of this Lonely Hearts story,

and then we'll start easing it off

and let it die a natural death.

Let it die? Mark, we let Charlie Barnes die!

The least we can do now is to find his killer.

You're the guy who pounded into me,

"Never give up till you've got the story."

Well, I'm not quitting on this one

until I've licked it.

You can reach me

at the Lenox Hotel in Hartford.

Long distance.

I want some information.

A telephone number

in Middlebury, Connecticut.

The name is Hacker. He's a judge.

I don't remember his first name.

You wish to place a call to this party?

No, no. Not yet, that is.

I just want to get his telephone number.

One moment, please.

Hello? The Middlebury operator

has no listing for anyone by that name.

There isn't?

Middlebury's a small town.

Will you ask the operator

if she knows anything

about Judge Hacker at all?

Is he deceased, moved away, or what?

One moment, please.

Hello? The local operator

has been in Middlebury for five years

and knows no one

by the name of Judge Hacker.

That's all the information she can give us.

Thanks.

No, Reverend,

I'm afraid that's not our couple.

You may be positive, Reverend,

but you're mistaken.

The woman in the photo we sent you

is dead.

Thank you for calling, Reverend.

You don't have to tell me.

It's written all over

your bright and shining face.

A 190-mile drive

to have a whack-head tell me

that both the people in our circular

died a year ago.

New Englanders remember, all right.

Every face is familiar to them.

Hello? Just a minute, here's Steve.

It's that man again. Every day.

Does he think we'll keep it a big fat secret

if we find something?

Yeah, Mark.

Nothing but an aching back

and some interesting meetings

with jelly-brained screwballs.

You've had enough time, Steve. Ten days.

Admit it's a dud. Come on home.

Two more days, Mark.

We'll stick it out to the end of the week.

Get out of the haystack. It's easier

to find the needles at the scene of the crime.

I'll see you.

Two more days. I don't even know myself

why we're sticking around.

Anything there that sounds good?

I'll read you a fair sample.

From a J.P. Waterbury.

"Send me $5,000

and I will tell you names of people."

A new head I'll send him.

I've got a headache.

I think I'll lie down for a while.

Why don't you lie down here?

I'll go to my room.

McCleary. Okay, put him on.

A guy calling from Franklin.

Hello? Yeah, that's right.

You do, huh?

- You've got what?

- What is it?

- Just a minute.

- I have the other picture right before me!

Yes, I married them July 19th, 1931,

over in Middlebury.

A funny thing. What's that?

Judge Elroy Hacker.

We'll be there in two hours, Judge.

Sit tight

and keep your mouth shut about this.

Bye.

Go on, get packed.

He's liable to drop dead on us or something.

For a man who can sit there

and watch his success increasing daily,

you're looking much too troubled, Mark.

It's just that these minor problems

always seem to require major thinking.

Well, perhaps we can balance

the unpleasant with the pleasant.

That conversation we had the other day

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