The Blue Dahlia Page #5

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Who did kill her, Eddie?

Don't you read the papers?

I don't have to believe

everything I see in them.

Well, if Morrison didn't kill her,

he certainly set himself up pretty.

- The gun even had his initials on it.

- Careless of him.

I met him. He's the kind of guy

who wouldn't care much what he did.

- When he walked in on that party...

- He didn't like it.

How would you know?

I know the kind of party it would be.

Well, so long as I know

you're all right, Eddie?

So I do mean that much to you?

I guess so.

Take me to the mezzanine, please.

Yes, sir.

- Is Mr Harwood in?

- I'll see.

- What name, please?

- Moore.

Mr Harwood?

Give me the desk, please.

Mr Harwood's line is busy at the moment.

- What's his apartment number?

- I'm sorry. You'll have to be announced.

I'll try again in a moment.

Desk.

Who? Just a minute.

For you, sir.

Me?

Hello.

Please don't ask any questions.

Get out of the hotel right away.

Yeah, but why does it take so long?

Because when a man's in the service,

they file his photo in Washington.

They have to get it from there.

What I'm wondering is, who glommed the

photo the maid said was in the bedroom?

- Lf my name was Morrison, it would be me.

- Yeah.

The description we got could fit 1,000 guys.

Mr Harwood, please.

Captain Hendrickson calling.

Yes, sir.

Mr Harwood.

Anybody following us?

I don't think so.

That's too bad.

Do you want to get caught?

When did you find out that

somebody was trying to catch me?

This morning when I saw

you get rid of your coat.

Are you angry at me for

trying to help you, Jimmy?

Maybe you'd better call

me by my right name.

None of this would make any sense

if you didn't know it.

All right, Johnny.

Johnny's quite a nice name, too.

But Jimmy didn't have the police after him.

It takes a lot of lights

to make a city, doesn't it?

I know you didn't kill your wife, Johnny.

- You do? How?

- Just from knowing you.

- You don't know me that well.

- Well enough.

You think you have to find out who

did kill her, though, don't you?

Something like that.

I suppose you wonder why I

don't let the police do that job.

Have I acted as if I thought that?

They're looking for me.

And if they catch me,

they're not gonna worry

about trying to pin it on somebody else.

- I've thought of that, too.

- That isn't all.

Even if we weren't happy, Helen was my wife.

And the man who killed her isn't gonna

get away with it. He just thinks he is.

- You're talking about Eddie Harwood?

- I didn't mention any names.

Who else could it be?

I wouldn't know. Would you?

- It seems you know more about it than I do.

- Do I?

Things like picking me out

of the air at a hotel desk.

You get around, don't you?

And your timing's good.

It was good last night when

you picked me up in the rain.

Or was it?

I don't know.

I don't know anything.

I don't even know your name.

Johnny, you'll have to trust me.

I have something to settle, too.

- You'll have to trust me a lot.

- Why?

I haven't got time to play games.

Suppose you keep your secrets,

and I'll keep mine, huh?

Okay, Johnny,

if that's the way you feel about it.

Coming?

BUZZ:
Turn that radio down.

Turn it down, I tell you!

Hey, calm down, can't you?

Other people have to live.

This headache I got don't calm down.

- Why don't Johnny call up or something?

- Maybe he forgot the number.

Maybe he doesn't want to take the chance.

Maybe he's not even in L.A.

That's three maybes.

You're not stuck, are you?

You know, I used to think of Johnny

on the dodge like a cheap criminal.

He ought to go straight to

Hendrickson and tell him his story.

Sure, tell it to the cops. Maybe you like cops.

Well, I don't. I hate their guts.

And you better hope you never

tell it to the cops, either.

What you need's a drink.

Let me see. I seem to have

misplaced your name at the moment.

Where were you keeping it?

But you're a friend of

John Morrison's, aren't you?

Never heard of him.

Come on in.

Who are you?

I work over at the Cavendish Court.

Newell's the name. They call me Dad.

- You work at what?

- Well...

You're the house peeper, ain't you?

Yeah, some folks call me that.

I don't suppose you gentlemen

know where Mr Morrison is, do you?

Would we be likely to tell you?

No, I suppose not.

Would information about his

movements be worth anything to you?

Depends on what the information is.

Well, information ain't always so easy to get.

- Quit stalling. Where did you see Johnny?

- I haven't said I did see him so far.

- This guy's looking for a piece of change.

- You just think of that?

Well, as a matter of fact,

it was a long walk over here.

Why don't you call a couple of

those cops you're so fond of?

He's been cheating on their terms.

Oh, now wait a minute, gentlemen.

You've got me all wrong.

Would that be possible?

I happened to be going by Mr

Harwood's hotel this evening...

- Oh, you put the bite on Harwood, too, huh?

- I resent that.

I saw Morrison go into the

hotel and cross over to the desk.

- Then what?

- I didn't have time to wait for any more.

He was standing at the desk when

I left. I had to get to work.

- The guy really likes his work.

- And how.

- Where does Harwood live?

- Grenada Towers on Wilshire.

- You know everything, don't you?

- Oh, I get around.

- That all you've got to tell us?

- So far it is.

Well, thanks.

Nights, Mr Harwood usually goes

to his club, the Blue Dahlia,

if that's of any interest to you.

Haven't I seen you before?

- Before what?

- Seems to me last night in the rain.

Or, of course, I could be mistaken.

Good night.

Mr Harwood, please. Mrs Harwood calling.

Eddie?

Yes, it's me.

I've changed my mind about something.

Do you want to take me out tonight?

Find what you wanted?

You look good in a uniform.

Nice kid, too. Yours?

Why didn't you tell me you was hot?

I've taken care of lots of hot boys.

All it takes is a little of that.

What makes you think I'm hot?

You ain't talking to one

of them cheap heist guys,

like them mugs that brought you here.

I've been in this business a long time.

Jimmy Moore, huh?

Seems like I read somewhere,

could have been the paper,

about a guy named Johnny Morrison,

the cops wanted to talk to on

account his wife got croaked.

No comment, huh?

Suit yourself.

Maybe I better keep this

while you think things out.

Johnny; Bana bir ey olursa,

Eddie Harwood'un ad Bauer'di...

New Jersey Eyalet Polisi bunu bilmek

isteyecektir. Bauer onu ldrd.

Yes?

Corelli? Who's he?

Never mind. Put him on.

You Leo?

I run ajoint over in Santa Monica.

A guy come in here tonight

and registered as Jimmy Moore.

Get the initials? JM.

He's a navy flier. That

mean anything to you?

Is he there now? Oh, moved out on you?

You don't seem to have much to sell,

do you, Corelli?

(CHUCKLING) Huh? Sure, sure.

Yeah, I'll take care of

you. So long, Corelli.

You're certainly a hard man to catch up with.

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