The Blue Dahlia Page #8

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Just like that one over there.

- Yeah.

- She... And it was raining, and I...

- Come on, what happened, Buzz?

- Come on.

My head...

The music was beating, Johnny. Beating.

Beating, beating, beating, beating, beating!

Music in my head, Johnny.

Is there a radio here?

Johnny, you don't think

I did it, do you, Johnny?

Is there a radio here?

- Just the speaker from the dance floor.

- Turn it on.

That monkey music again.

That monkey music.

Okay, she did buy me a drink.

What's wrong with that?

I didn't even know who she was until

she started talking about Johnny.

Will you cut that music out?

Go on with the rest of it, Buzz.

Why did you kill her?

Who says I killed her?

You can't hand me that stuff.

Not even you.

I wouldn't dirty my hands on her.

All right, turn it off.

I didn't mean that, Johnny.

I just had to get out of there.

I couldn't take it anymore.

She called me back,

but I just kept right on going.

And I don't know where.

I guess I must have gone home.

That's where I went, wasn't it, George?

He was wet enough to

have walked all the way.

He got home three minutes past eight.

Are you satisfied?

You could have told us

that a long time ago.

I guess you know why I didn't.

I wasn'tsure enough

when that shot was fired.

Are you sure now?

You've got a witness, haven't you?

A witness you yourself

called a cheap blackmailer.

Now just a minute. I could

be called that once too often.

You be sure to tell us when to duck.

What makes you so

top-heavy all of a sudden?

For all anybody here knows, you could

have killed Mrs Morrison yourself.

Except that you fixed the time.

Well, maybe I kind of made a mistake there.

Five or 10 minutes either way.

Be hard to tell. I was kind of busy

keeping the rain off my neck.

I ain't the wristwatch type, you know.

That umbrella of yours

must've got pretty wet last night.

That's what I bought it for.

You ought to have left it on the porch,

instead of letting it drip

all over Mrs Morrison's carpet.

- I did leave it on the porch. That is, I...

- All right.

Might as well wrap it up for tonight.

We don't seem to be getting anyplace.

We'll want signed statements from all

of you, but tomorrow will be time enough.

Yeah, I got to get back to the job myself.

Well, good night, all.

No hard feelings, I hope.

Oh, Captain, I wish you'd put in a

good word for me with the hotel manager.

He's kind of sore at me.

Surely not for blackmailing the guests.

All right.

You don't really think you're

going out that door, do you?

What're you getting at?

How much did you up the ante on

her when her husband came home?

What did she threaten to do? Get you fired?

Or was she going to have Harwood's

friends give you the treatment?

Maybe she was going to

blow a hole in you herself.

Only she wouldn't know how

to handle that kind of a gun.

All you had to do was

grab it out of her hand.

I guess even a very cheap

blackmailer could do that.

Cheap, huh?

Sure, a cigar and a drink

and a couple of dirty bucks.

That's all it cost to buy me.

That's what she thought.

Found out a little different, didn't she?

Maybe I could get tired of being

pushed around by cops and hotel managers

and ritzy dames in bungalows.

Maybe I could cost a little

something, just for once.

And if I do end up on a slab...

Boy, am I sunk.

- And that was one of the easy ones.

- We must be getting old.

I felt kind of sorry for the old gent at that.

- Thanks, Bill.

- You're welcome, Mrs Harwood. Good night.

We seem to be saying good-bye again.

It won't be so difficult this time, I guess.

Last night when I made myself

walk out on you, remember?

I said every guy had seen

you before. Somewhere.

- I remember.

- But the trick was to find you.

I remember that, too.

Do you think I'd ever forget it?

Let's go find someplace

where we can get a drink, huh?

- We got to wait for Johnny.

- We got to wait for Johnny?

What do you think I am? A camel? Come on.

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