Somewhere in the Night Page #6

where you fit in.

A reasonable question,

which I will answer.

Mr. Cravat is wanted by the police

for a murder which occurred on Terminal Dock.

This very dock,

three years ago.

The murdered man was a gentleman

from the East. Mr. Steele, I believe.

The police have evidence

that Mr. Cravat and another man...

were on the dock

that night.

They do not know

who the other man was.

However, Mr. Cravat's immediate

and prolonged absence...

has strengthened their belief

that Mr. Cravat was the murderer...

and that the identity

of the other man...

is relatively unimportant.

Let's say Cravat knows all that.

He still doesn't know where you fit in.

For a considerable amount of money,

subject to negotiation, of course...

I will present the police with

the other man on the dock that night.

He will confess to the murder

and free Cravat of suspicion.

- How do you happen to know who he is?

- If he's reluctant to confess...

the police will find

a suicide...

and a signed confession...

complete in every detail.

That might be better

in any case.

- What makes you think Cravat'll

go for a crummy deal like that?

- Because it's to his advantage.

- Because it's probably to your advantage as well.

- What do you mean by that?

Mr. Cravat deposited

$5,000 to your account. Why?

He was not a charitable man.

It is more likely

that he was paying for services rendered.

What were you

being paid for?

There is every likelihood that the unidentified

gentleman on the dock that night...

was you, Mr. Taylor!

Sit down and

play for the boss.

Do you want to be sent, brought,

or do you have something particular in mind?

How about "Where's

My Wandering Boy Tonight"?

Where, indeed?

Christy,

who is George Taylor?

Just a boy,

a wandering boy.

- Kendall was in to see me

about him this afternoon.

- So?

He asked a lot of questions

I couldn't answer.

Kendall doesn't work out of

the missing persons bureau, you know.

- He's homicide.

- He steals fried shrimps.

He wants to help, and so do I.

You asked me to, remember?

What kind of trouble

is Taylor in?

It won't make

any difference to me.

Maybe it will.

Because maybe it's murder.

He called me.

It's a murder that happened three years ago.

Cravat was mixed up in it,

and George thinks maybe he was too.

- Thinks maybe?

- He's not sure. He's got no way of knowing.

- I don't understand that.

- Well, don't try, but believe me, he hasn't.

I'll believe you.

Where is he now?

He phoned me

a few minutes ago.

He's been down at the harbor

trying to find out all he could about it.

There was a witness to the murder,

a man who used to work on Terminal Dock.

- A man named Conroy.

- Conroy.

Nobody's quite sure

what happened to him.

- George found out where Conroy

lived. He's gone to his house.

- Why?

To get some answers

to some questions.

- Makes sense to me.

- Not to me.

Taylor doesn't make much sense to me. Taking

a beating to find somebody he doesn't know...

running down

a three-year-old murder.

Christy, who is he? What's his angle?

Where do you stand?

Like always, my two feet

firmly planted in the air.

Take my advice

and stay away from him.

Don't get involved...

in any way.

Confucius say, "When something

smell bad, make new friends"?

When something smells bad, believe me,

it's in the air like an earthquake.

Don't stand too close,

Christy. Don't get hurt.

In any way?

I'm the girl with the cauliflower heart.

You think. You're as

tough as a love song.

You've got your face turned up

and your eyes closed, waiting to be kissed.

Might not be a kiss, baby.

Open your eyes and look around.

That's mighty fine advice, Mel,

and I'm beholden to you.

There's only one thing

wrong though.

What?

I'm nuts about the guy.

Good evening.

I wonder if I could talk to Mr. Conroy.

Come in.

My name is George Taylor.

Please forgive me.

It was so dark.

I wasn't expecting-

For a moment,

I didn't know you, George.

You've met me before?

I said I was sorry.

Oh, sure.

That's all right.

Well, won't you

sit down?

Could I get you something?

No, thanks. Really, I...

What about Mr. Conroy?

You're being very formal,

I must say.

Father's better,

thank you.

- Better?

- At least, the doctors keep telling me so.

I haven't asked

for some time.

I went for so long,

and they kept saying the same thing.

There are signs

of improvement.

- But it's been so long.

- How long?

Ever since his accident.

Three years.

His accident,

three years ago?

I... I keep forgetting.

You haven't been here.

It was on his way to work.

So strange,

nobody saw it.

They found him

lying there.

He'd been hit

by an automobile.

He didn't know.

He couldn't remember.

They've been trying

to help him.

- He's been there ever since.

- Been where?

Lambeth Sanatorium.

Oh, it's very nice.

They're very kind.

I've often wished that I...

Memories have a way of

getting stuck together...

like pages in a book,

haven't they?

The story in the paper that morning-

A man had been murdered.

Father read it aloud to me.

I thought that very odd.

He seemed pleased and happy.

There was someone, he said, who'd make us rich,

and I would have a new dress.

I'm afraid this one

isn't very pretty.

The man who was gonna make you rich,

what was his name?

- I don't remember.

- Was it Larry Cravat?

It was so long ago.

I don't remember things

well, really.

Only certain things.

It's so funny.

They seem to shine

like little lights.

And everything

around them is dark.

You said

the Lambeth Sanatorium.

- Did I?

- Well, didn't you?

You're going away now.

Well, I've got-

I've got to see your father.

- You've acted very strangely.

- I didn't mean to. It's just-

You haven't even

called me once by my name.

It's Elizabeth,

in case you've forgotten.

I'm sorry, Elizabeth.

But it's been

such a long time.

Yes, it has.

And things change,

don't they, in time?

But time doesn't change.

It goes on and on...

and doesn't change.

I know,

because I've watched it.

The nights, the days, the nights,

always the same.

Dawns are always gray, and the days...

can have different colors.

But the nights are black.

And they're all empty.

No.

Only people change.

They grow old

and ugly...

and... pitiful.

Don't stare at me

like that.

I'm no concern of yours.

Really, I'm not.

You don't know me.

Don't worry.

I never saw you before.

I lied.

I made believe.

Please, don't be

angry with me.

You see, I've made believe

so much for so long-

That I wasn't alone,

that I had friends...

that I wasn't afraid...

that I wasn't dead,

that I was alive.

I wanted so to make believe that-

somebody loved me.

I know a little bit about being lonely.

I'll come back to see you

soon again, Elizabeth.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

- I'd like to see Michael Conroy.

- Conroy?

- Oh, I'm afraid you can't see him.

- Why not?

For one thing,

it's after visiting hours.

I'm his nephew.

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