Somewhere in the Night Page #3

They didn't believe I didn't know where he was.

Why do you

want to meet him?

I think I'll go now.

How far do you think

you'll get?

The nearest foxhole maybe. They'll be

watching my hotel - all sorts of people.

What's your name?

Taylor. George Taylor.

It's all over town.

I may run for dogcatcher.

Look, I've gotta

talk to somebody.

I'll go crazy

if I don't talk to somebody.

I'm somebody.

I think you are.

What do you know

about amnesia?

Not much. Something

that happens to you.

You forget who you are

or where you belong.

- Isn't that it?

- Yeah.

Every now and then you read about it

in the newspaper-

a guy named John Doe

was picked up in a fog.

Never happens

to anybody you know.

It happened to me.

Yeah. For all I know,

I might have been born six months ago.

That's a joke because six months ago

I woke up in a hospital.

That's where babies

are born, in a hospital.

Only this was different. It was in the South Pacific,

and it wasn't the maternity ward.

My jaw was wired.

I couldn't talk.

I couldn't ask who I was.

I... I nearly went nuts.

Then I found my wallet.

There was a letter in it. No name. No signature.

Just a letter.

It-

It told me about myself.

It told me good.

From then on I lived

with that letter.

It went around in my head like a crazy squirrel

on a hopped-up treadmill.

I was scared,

and I was sick.

Sick to my heart at what

the letter said I was like...

and scared of anybody

finding it out.

Scared I'd find it out myself.

I didn't want to know anymore.

So I kept my mouth shut.

I got away with it,

got my discharge.

And I thought maybe I could start

with a brand-new scorepad.

But you can't just

throw away-

How many years of living?

I don't even know.

Do you know what it's like, Christy,

to be alone in the world?

Really alone

in the whole world.

A billion people,

and every one of them a stranger.

Or what's worse,

not a stranger.

Somebody maybe

who knows you, hates you...

wants you to die.

Then last night I found

another letter.

This one was from

Larry Cravat.

It said he was my pal.

Imagine, I had a pal.

So I started

looking for him.

That was this morning.

Since then, I've been

chased by hoodlums, beaten up.

That's quite a pal

you're looking for.

I can't be choosy.

He's the only one I've got.

It's like that joke about the crooked

gambling house. He's the only one in town.

So why don't I go find

another town?

- You mean run away and hide?

- Why not?

Sure. Why not?

So I'll be alone for a while.

It won't be for long.

I'll make up a story

for myself.

I got away with it before.

I can do it again.

I'll go where people will believe me,

where they'll leave me alone.

Where I won't have to answer questions

and ask 'em.

As long as you believe yourself and leave

yourself alone and not ask yourself questions.

I'm tired of being pushed around.

The war's over for me.

- I don't have to live afraid anymore.

- Except when you're by yourself.

And alone.

I've got to find that guy.

Even if he's the heel of the world...

I've got to find him,

because he knows about me.

What am I gonna do,

Christy?

You'll keep swinging.

Something's got to break.

Something's got to break.

Who's that?

Take it easy.

Maybe this is the break.

I forgot to tell you. I phoned

Mel Phillips while you were out...

- and asked him to come over.

- Why?

Because I want him to

beat you up some more.

- Hi, Mel.

- Hello, Chris. What's the trouble?

It's in there.

George Taylor,

Mel Phillips.

This is the character

I phoned you about...

the one that keeps falling through doors

with me on the other side.

- Hello, Taylor.

- Hello.

Some hot coffee, Mel?

- Thanks, Chris. No sugar.

- I know.

I understand your trouble started

at one of my places. The Cellar.

- Do you want to tell me what happened?

- It's all right.

You may have heard

I don't like that sort of thing.

I've kept the hoodlums out of my clubs,

and they're gonna stay out.

- I'd appreciate your telling me what happened.

- It's all right. Forget it.

I called Mel before

you told me about things.

Thank you, Chris.

If you make up your mind to stay around,

I'm sure he can help you.

All right, Taylor.

Will you help me?

There's a reason

I was so late getting here, Chris.

The police called

just after you did.

One of my bartenders

was found in the vacant lot.

- They figure he was dumped out of a car.

- Which bartender?

- John.

- Was he the one I talked to?

I asked him if he knew

a man I was looking for.

After that, he set me up with the two characters

that chased me to Christy's room.

Who was the man

you were looking for?

Name's Larry Cravat.

He's beginning to bore me.

Larry Cravat. That's funny.

I think I know it, but I can't place it.

- What does he do?

- I don't know.

Whatever he does,

he seems to keep pretty busy.

Why are you

looking for him?

- I just want to find him.

- Private reasons?

They're good enough.

Well, anyway, there are two of us

looking for him now.

- There are more than two of us, Mr. Phillips.

- The police, for instance?

- Maybe.

- Any reason why we can't go ask them?

They might want to know

who's asking and why.

Which takes us back

to the private reasons.

Look, Taylor.

If I go to the police, and I probably will...

- don't worry about my bringing you into it.

- I appreciate that.

I could put you in touch with a friend of mine.

He's a police lieutenant.

His name is Kendall. He's an all right guy.

He'd keep it off the record.

Thanks just the same.

Do what you can though,

will you, Mel?

- You know I will, Chris.

- That's my boy.

You'll have me believing that.

Look out.

So long, Taylor.

So long, Mr. Phillips.

Thanks.

Not at all.

Good luck.

Good night, Chris.

- Well?

- He's a nice guy.

That's the only kind

I know.

Except me.

- I'll go get some sheets for that couch.

- I can't stay here.

Why not?

I, uh, won't need any sheets.

This'll do fine.

Well, then,

I'll see you in the morning.

Don't forget to look under your bed,

lock your door.

I'll do that.

- All right. Suppose we take

a good look at each other.

- Let go of me.

Who told you to watch me?

Who sent you here? Who?

Sent me here?

I've lived three blocks away for 17 years.

Just because I stopped under a tree

to light a cigar. What are you, crazy?

Funny it had to be that tree.

And it's pretty late to be taking a walk.

What's so funny about that tree?

Suppose I work nights, and when I come home-

What business is it

of yours anyway?

Why don't we call a cop

and let him ask the questions?

Sure. Let go of me,

or I'll call a cop.

Now what?

I can't play alone like this anymore.

I'm getting the jumps.

Chasing shadows.

I'll be hearing noises next.

Christy, call up Phillips,

will ya?

Tell him I want to talk to

that police lieutenant. Kendall.

Ah. In case you don't know it, George,

this is why you fought the war.

The four freedoms

and fried shrimps for Christy.

That was the battle cry

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