Shadow of the Thin Man Page #4

---

Wait. Wait, Paul.

You mustn't. I'm afraid.

Back up. Keep moving.

Back into that office.

- Now, see here, Whitey, let's...

- Let's not.

I could drop you right on that floor

and collect a reward.

You're a prowler. You broke in here.

Well, what were you looking for,

a stamp? Get your hands up! Up!

So you found the family archives.

You know, I can use that little book

in my business.

I'll make a bargain with you.

I'll see that you get...

Get up by the window.

Hey there.

- What's the matter? What is it?

- Get a doctor, quick. Call the police!

I hope you get out of it all right.

Thanks, lady. Good night.

Good night.

- Hiya, Nick!

- Lf it ain't Nick Charles.

Nicky, pal, how's tricks?

- You certainly got on the spot quick.

- How come you beat us here, Nick?

We took a shortcut. Don't let us

keep you, boys, if you're busy.

- We've got plenty of time.

- So you've got plenty of time, huh?

Why, you anemic pack of bloodhounds,

there's been a murder.

Rigor mortis is setting in,

and you lounge here gabbing!

Come on, upstairs!

Well, folks, here we are again,

and here's another murder.

Say, did the Irish Thrush win?

He's my cousin.

Either I'm dreaming,

or I've lived through this before.

- I meet you at all my homicides.

- We won't be at this one long.

Maybe not, but a friend of yours will.

Two newspapermen just had it out.

One of them is now dead.

The other is Paul Clarke.

Paul? Come along, Nick.

I don't know what happened.

We had a fight. I was knocked cold.

You were knocked cold? I suppose

Whitey's just taking a nap in there.

- I didn't kill him.

- Hey, come back here, you!

- Paul, I thought you'd been killed.

- You shouldn't have come.

- I told you to keep people out.

- She busted right by me.

- Pardon me.

- That key's mine.

It wasn't Paul's. I gave it to him.

Oh, so that's how you got in here.

This girl was in it with you.

Who are you?

- I work here.

- Nice work.

He came to get evidence.

That's all. I helped him.

I knew it was wrong,

but it isn't murder.

Nicky, do something before they both

convict themselves.

- Is this your gun?

- No.

No, it was Whitey's.

And it hasn't been fired.

So it hasn't been fired.

Then it's using a new perfume,

Burnt Powder.

I didn't fire it. I came up here

to get Stephens' records...

...and I found them in his desk

in a black book.

- Where is it?

- Barrow took it. Why, he had the gun.

There's no book in Stephens' desk,

on you or in Barrow's pockets.

Paul's telling the truth.

There was a book.

Ask Mr. Stephens. Or Mr. Macy.

When I get to them.

I sure wish that watchman could

describe the guy he almost caught.

Almost caught?

Someone was running down the stairs

right after the shot was fired.

It was too dark to get a description.

Let's take another look inside.

Keep those lovebirds apart.

They might try to cook up a story.

What if they do?

You didn't care for the first one.

Nicky will get you out of it,

just like that.

Well, doc?

Shot.

No kidding.

I thought maybe he drowned.

Can you tell us when he left

this nice peaceful world?

Dead approximately half an hour.

There's quite a lump

on the back of his head.

- They tap hard in his fraternity.

- A large bruise, not serious.

- Well, lucky for Barrow it isn't serious.

- But he isn't supposed to have a bruise.

- Clarke claims he bumped his head.

- No contusion on Clarke.

He may have struck his head

on the desk, but no mark.

Which often happens. What about

the angle of the bullet? Downwards?

- How did you know that?

- Very simple.

Paul is only a little taller

than Whitey...

...so I figure he must have been

hanging on the chandelier...

...when he shot him,

or standing on a chair.

Any footprints on the chairs?

- What are you driving at, Nick?

- Me for downtown.

It looks to me as if Whitey must have

been lying on the floor when he got it.

Clarke's a fine sportsman.

He could've at least shot him on the rise.

I'll send the boys for the body.

Let's suppose, for the moment,

that some third party...

...saw Paul and Whitey fight.

Let's assume that the third party

saw Paul go down. Out cold.

The gun had been kicked right

at his feet, let's say.

All right, let's say.

Our third party could have picked up

the gun, slugged Whitey from behind...

...which accounts for that bruise

on the back of Whitey's head...

...and taken the book from his pocket.

- Sorry, Nick, it won't jell.

Why should this party

of the third party shoot Whitey...

...after he knocked him cold and took

the book? If there was a book.

I'll say that Whitey came to

and recognized him.

Our third party had to shoot him,

leaving Paul to take the rap.

As far as I'm concerned, there isn't

any third party and there isn't any book.

I'm sorry to pick on your friend,

but I'm booking him.

If I didn't, I'd have the DA

down my throat, and is he a pill.

I'd like to have a look at that stuff

Whitey had on him.

Sure, out here. It's just the usual junk.

Help yourself.

But what was Whitey doing in here,

and how did he get in?

Hello, lieutenant.

What's going on here?

Evening, Nick. Hello, Mrs. Charles.

Can you figure heads or tails

on this affair?

- I just walked into the arena...

- I was in the ticket office.

What more do you want?

Relax. Relax, Fred.

They won't keep us long.

Hello, lieutenant. Oh, you here too.

What's this, a convention?

Cheer up, maybe the lieutenant

will let you sell tickets.

All right. All right.

This is all we found on Barrow.

If there was a record book,

it crawled away.

Well, what record book?

There's no record book.

We'll take you first,

since you're so upset.

Where were you from 9 to 10?

I was in the ticket office.

I never left it. Ask Maguire.

Right. He was in the ticket office.

He never left it.

- Doing what?

- Checking up on the ticket sales.

He was checking up

on the ticket sales.

At 10, I went out for a sandwich,

then took a little drive.

- Any law against that?

- Not if you got a driver's license.

By the way, Macy,

what was the total ticket sale?

Why...

I should have telegraphed that one.

Mr. Stephens, do you mind telling us

where you were from 9 to 10?

I was with a lady, a Miss Porter.

Nicky, do you see this laundry list

from Barrow's pocket?

- Yeah, we'll get to it later.

- It's a woman's laundry list.

- Well, maybe he had a wife.

- Twenty-five kimonos? That's a harem.

I'd like to run along, lieutenant,

if you're through.

Oh, just a minute. Bloodhound.

Lieutenant, I think this laundry list

of Barrow's might interest you.

Three bloomers, 25 kimonos, 10 slips...

...five panties, 15 chemises.

Sounds like washday at Vassar.

That's the list that was

in Stephens' ledger...

...the one I found in the drawer.

Apparently the slip and the ledger

parted company somewhere.

Just a minute, major.

What did Hotbox pay in that race

you're investigating?

Seventeen to one.

See here, lieutenant.

The laundry mark is GP.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes