Side Street Page #5

To the best of my recollection, | I would say I've never met this man.

That's a lawyer's answer, | isn't it, counselor?

Would you say | it was another coincidence...

...that Norson here delivered mail | to your office for a couple of weeks?

I guess I never bother to look at mailmen, | only what they bring.

Yes?

Here's one through headquarters, captain.

Man named Simpsen. | Doesn't sound like a crackpot.

Captain Anderson, Homicide.

Just a minute, Mr. Simpsen.

Now, try and calm yourself | and speak more coherently.

Fine, Mr. Simpsen.

No, no, you'll be perfectly safe.

Stay exactly where you are.

A radio car is on its way to you now.

One full squad and three cars | downstairs right away.

And have a radio cover | 170 Central Park West...

...on a signal 30 for Joe Norson.

- And Lester, send in a uniformed man. | Yes, sir?

Ever hear of Emil Lorrison, counselor?

Why, no, I don't think so.

All set downstairs.

You will find me in my office | if there's anything I can do.

Wait around, counselor.

You can't hold me.

We'll talk about it later.

You, me, Emil Lorrison, and Joe Norson.

And maybe that big ape.

I want this man here when I get back.

Mr. Lorrison, Emil Lorrison.

Lorrison? Just a minute, I'll see.

Who shall I say is calling?

Oh, Mr. Backett, Victor Backett.

Mr. Backett, for Mr. Lorrison.

Radio City Music Hall.

Joe is no murderer.

He wouldn't hurt anyone, anything.

If he is innocent, Mrs. Norson, | we'll help him.

But we wanna locate him now.

I told you, I don't know where he is. | I haven't seen him.

If you want your husband alive, | keep him on this line.

Answer it.

You're tracing this call?

Remember, we want him alive | as much as you do.

Run, Joe, run! | The police are tracing this call!

Norson, this is the sheriff. Hello, Norson?

Open up.

May I come in?

- Come back tomorrow. | Sorry to bother you.

- But we're closed. | - Do you know this girl?

- No. | - Let me see it.

Oh, sure.

She was an occasional customer, | and cute too.

She moved away | a couple of months ago.

If only he'd pay that much attention | to his books.

Do you know where she moved? | It's very important to locate her right away.

Well, I'm sorry, I wouldn't know.

Wait. She used to be a singer here | in the village around Christopher Street.

Thanks, thanks very much.

Give her my regards.

You'll be

So easy to love

So easy to idolize

All others above

So worth

The yearning for

So swell to keep every home fire

Burning for

We'd be so grand

At the game

So carefree together

That it does seem a shame

That you can't see

Your future with me

'Cause you'd be

Oh, so easy

To love

Check your hat?

Here.

- How do you want those eggs tonight? | - A couple of more appetizers first, Louie.

Uh-uh. No more.

Not me, Harriet. Herzog's orders.

He don't want the help drinking their | dinners. Just eats, one drink apiece.

Tell him I don't have to take that | from him or anybody.

You tell him. It ain't my problem.

Make the eggs sunny-side.

And you, what's your trouble?

Two more for the lady.

I, uh... I didn't mean to stare.

I was hoping you'd talk to me.

Sometimes, I just get mad at the world.

You were handiest.

I'm glad I was.

Why don't you get comfortable?

Thanks.

Excuse me.

Do this again.

A dollar 20. Pay now.

Pay as you go. It's a house rule.

The help here is crude, very uncouth.

An entertainer has to put up with a lot | for the sake of her profession.

You'll come out much better | by the bottle, mister.

- Save yourself about three bucks. | - I don't mind.

As long as I'm gonna eat my dinner, | it won't affect me at all.

- Will it, Louie? | - Not a bit.

That ate up the change, | and there's still 2.10 owing.

You want those eggs now, Harriet?

I'm not one of the help. | You call me Ms. Sinton.

Okay, okay. Ms. Sinton, | you want your eggs now?

Later, Louie. There's no hurry.

Hey, you said you hoped I'd talk to you.

Why?

I recognized you out on the floor. | That was a nice song you sang.

Oh, it's just a little something.

I had it arranged special for myself.

So you saw me here before?

No, not here. But almost everyday.

Oh, you're kidding, honey.

No, it's no lie. Absolutely straight, | when you lived on Eighth Street.

Hey, that's funny. | Both of us from Eighth Street, huh?

I was one of your silent admirers.

What's your name, honey?

Joe. Joe Wilson.

Hello, Joe.

Hello, Harriet.

What happened to your poor face?

Just a little accident.

Are you married, Joe?

No.

Oh, you're sweet.

Real sweet.

I used to be engaged.

- To that fellow I used to see you with? | - Can you imagine, one drink apiece?

But I guess, in a way, | you can't blame Herzog.

Business is real bad. | Look at this place for a Saturday night.

He's got to cut overhead someplace, | might as well be with the help.

No sense kidding myself, Joe.

That's me, just one of the help.

It was real sweet of you | to buy that bottle, hon.

You got nice manners, Joe.

I like nice manners.

I like you, hon.

I like you a lot.

My Luve is like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June:

My love is like a melodie,

That's sweetly play'd in tune.

You like poetry, hon?

That's Robert Burns, | "The Red Red Rose. "

George hated poetry.

He hit me once | when I recited Robert Burns.

He hit me right in the eye.

George was no good.

- George? | - My fianc, ex-fianc.

George had no manners at all.

George Garsell?

You know Georgie?

Sure, long time.

I haven't seen him | since he got out on parole.

- You're not a cop? | - Me?

Do I look like a cop?

I didn't know you were Georgie's girl.

Big hunk out of my life. | Three and a half years next month.

It's funny he never mentioned you.

I'm not bragging about him either.

Well, it's better not to have | any hard feelings.

How is he? Where does he live now?

I wanted to keep it friendly.

Even phoned him last week, his birthday.

Dirty crumb hung up.

Why do we want | to talk about that big gorilla?

He used to be headman.

But no more.

Let's get out of here, | just you and me, huh?

We'll go to my place.

I'll fix my face and we'll leave.

I can't freshen up | without the wherewithal.

Just another minute or two, honey.

- What was that address, lady? | - Rose Street, 307, near Christopher.

Next time I see George, I think | I'll burn him up about you and me, okay?

Sure.

- Got his address? | - Up at the house.

Hey, I fit, don't I?

Like a motorman's glove.

- Thank you. | - Seventy-five.

Here's my mansion.

What some people won't do | to save a dollar.

You'd think one little light | costs a fortune.

Well, come on, Joe.

And just hold on to me.

Some night, somebody's gonna get killed | on these steps.

And then it will cost them plenty.

You wait here, Joe, it's just ahead.

I'll go put on some lights.

Come on, honey.

Nice work, baby.

You run along now. | Give George a ring tomorrow.

We got work to do.

Hey, don't be chasing my girl.

Come here, baby.

Sweetie, you're not mixed up | in anything real bad, are you?

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