Shadow of the Thin Man Page #2

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a minute ago about speed?

- That's discipline.

- You said a man was murdered.

Don't worry. He won't get away.

I haven't seen you and Nick in ages.

- What happened?

- You know that jockey, Goldez?

The one caught throwing

the fourth race yesterday?

- He was shot.

- My, they're strict at this track.

What?

I don't think the track officials shot

this one, do you, lieutenant?

He was undoubtedly bumped off

to keep him from talking.

Sounds exciting. Who did it?

Person or persons unknown did the job,

and it's my job...

...to see that they don't stay unknown.

Well, so long, Nick.

Goodbye, Mrs. Charles.

- I gotta see a man about a murder.

- Good luck, lieutenant.

With luck, we'll be out of here by the

last race. There go my seven winners.

The body's back in the shower,

lieutenant. This way.

All right, one side. Heads up.

All right, boys. Heads up.

Coroner, here's Lieutenant Abrams.

Nice of you to come over, lieutenant.

The DA thought you'd better be

in on this.

- Probably be laid in your lap anyway.

- Okay, okay. What's the score?

Death was instantaneous

from a bullet wound...

...penetrating the left eye

and then the brain.

A.38-caliber bullet, or maybe

a little bigger. I'll get it for you later.

Would the angle of fire be okay

if it was fired from that window?

Mind your own business, Clarke.

I'm running the Homicide Squad.

Not you and your paper.

A couple guys get out there and beat

through the grounds for the gun.

Come on! Okay, you guys.

You took enough pictures

to paper a house.

- Well, Nick Charles! What's cooking, kid?

- Give us the lowdown.

- I've got nothing to do with this case.

- Oh, come on, Nick.

- I'm looking for Lieutenant Abrams.

- Come on, Nick.

You're only wasting your film.

I'm just a bystander. Hello, Paul.

Will you call these newshawks off?

I've got nothing to do with this.

I'm looking for Abrams.

He been around?

I thought I told you guys to beat it.

Mr. Charles has got no connection

with this case.

What did I tell you? Lieutenant,

have you any influence with the police?

- Sure, I got great connections.

- Maybe you can help me out.

My car is completely surrounded

by your mechanized division.

Sure. Say, get some of those squad cars

out of Mr. Charles' way.

- Right.

- Thanks, lieutenant.

Nick! Nick, I wanna ask you something.

- But...

- Just a minute, Nick, I'll be right back.

I room with Goldez, and last night

he didn't sleep a wink.

He was scared. He knew they

were laying for him. Poor Goldez.

He never kept a horse from winning

till they made him do it.

Is it all right with you

if I question these witnesses?

Get back in there, kid.

Get him out, and keep him out!

The gamblers, they murdered Goldez.

They were afraid he'd squeal.

They laid for him, and they got him.

Get it, quick!

Let him get the picture.

- Okay.

- Dry up!

All right, let's go.

Clarke, how about splitting

with us on this picture?

- Sorry, Barrow, that's exclusive.

- Don't be like that.

Let me take it.

I'll have prints made for all of us.

I wouldn't trust you with that plate.

Something might just happen to it.

Why, you punk newshog.

Another crack like that, and I'll...

Fight outside, you scribblers!

Go on, get outside and kill each other.

See if I care.

Get them out of here!

Wait a minute, Mr. Charles.

- Look, they're almost at the post now.

- We're old friends.

So I don't mind letting you in

on the dope before the papers.

Every time I miss a race,

I'm losing dough.

The murderer couldn't get in

from this side...

...and there are no footprints

on the outside.

There's no gun, no clue, no nothing.

Very interesting, huh?

- Yes, very.

- Of course, I know just what to do.

- Oh, of course you do.

- But, Nick, what would you do?

- Well, if I were you...

- Yeah?

...and I was in the spot you're in...

- Yeah, yeah?

...I'd take a shower.

All right, there we are.

Did Daddy win at the races today?

Darling, just keep quiet.

- Doesn't Daddy ever win at the races?

- Darling, don't ask questions.

Daddy go to the races tomorrow?

No, dear. Daddy go to court

on speeding rap.

Reference to the father's police record

may tend to undermine...

...the child's parental respect.

Perhaps you're right, dear.

Asta, are your hands clean?

That's fine.

Daddy, drink.

Thanks, pal.

Mommy, he's a great kid.

I'm much obliged.

It was nothing. Any time.

Daddy, drink milk.

- Daddy doesn't like milk.

- Stella, bring Mr. Charles a glass of milk.

But, darling, we mustn't let him

become headstrong.

Daddy, drink milk!

He's made up his mind.

He won't drink it unless you do too.

But I can't drink milk.

I'm a big boy now.

I wear long pants. I go out with girls.

No. Drink milk.

If you let him down now,

you'll kill all his respect.

Stella, take the shaker away.

Well?

It's awfully white, isn't it?

You wanted to be a father.

Drunk, dear?

I keep seeing purple cows.

Mr. Charles, there's some gentlemens

to see you.

A Mr. Paul Sculley and Mayor Clarke.

Paul...? That could be Paul Clarke

and Major Sculley.

I think perhaps I'd better see them.

Can't they wait

until you've finished dinner?

This may be very important.

I hate to tear myself away.

- Well, hello, Paul. Hiya, major.

- Hello, Nick.

You don't know how happy

I am to see you.

- You are?

- You got here just in time.

My son just put me on the milk wagon.

- Will you have a snort?

- Not a thing.

No? Well, sit down. I'll have just

a short antidote. What's up?

Well, I suppose we might

as well get down to cases.

I hope you don't mean murder cases.

Nick, when they appointed me

special deputy for the State Legislature...

...they handed me a headache.

This gambling racket

getting you down, major?

That jockey was our first real witness.

Goldez might have talked, Nick,

so they shut him up with a bullet.

- And we're right back where we started.

- That's a luckier break than Goldez got.

The syndicate responsible for this

has gotta be smashed.

But we're helpless unless we get

actual evidence to convict them.

I can think of pleasanter pastimes

than tangling...

...with the Stephens-Macy crowd.

- It's not who they are, Nick.

- It's how to nail them.

- You're the one man who can do that.

He can do anything,

if he'll get to work.

Why, grandma,

what long ears you've got.

- Good evening, major.

- Mrs. Charles.

Hello, Paul. How's my favorite reporter?

Not doing so well at the moment, Nora.

That's why I'm here.

Shall I get your hat?

What, me go to work?

Why, I'd feel like a cad, leaving you

to spend dull evenings alone.

Dull? I'd just love to see

you catch those crooks.

- Good.

- Well, Nick, we're a united front.

Well, thanks, major,

but I really haven't the time.

Mrs. Charles has to be taken places.

Dances, prizefights, nightclubs,

wrestling bouts.

You never take me to wrestling bouts.

- Well, you're always asking me to.

- There's some tonight. Will you take me?

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