Three on a Match Page #5

Miss Westcott. You may go in now.

Come on, honey.

- Here you are.

- Hello, Daddy.

Hello, yourself. How are you, Commodore?

I'm okay, Daddy. Say, Daddy,

I wanted to ask you something.

Shoot, big fellow.

Did you say I could have anything

for my birthday that I wanted?

That's what I said.

Anything, did you mean?

Oh, well now, if you should want

a real locomotive or an airplane to fly in,

I might have to back out,

but anything within reason, sure!

Is a yacht in reasons, Daddy?

Oh, well, now...

Oh, I mean like this.

Big sails and everything.

Oh, why, sure.

Miss Westcott, take him over

to Harlow's toy department

and get him the biggest, finest yacht

you can find.

- Thank you, Daddy.

- That's all right, big boy.

Don't go too far, sailor.

Okay.

Hello, Junior.

Hello, Uncle Mike.

Say, that's a fine boat you got there.

My daddy gave it to me for my birthday.

Look, Junior, you remember your mother,

don't you?

Of course I do.

Well, then, look, Junior,

you want to help your mother, don't you?

She's in trouble. She wants to see you.

Must I leave my daddy?

Well, only for a little while.

Well, I'll tell my Auntie Ruth.

Oh, no, we can't wait for that.

Well...

She's right over there, Junior.

Oh, gee.

She's crying for you.

Well, all right.

All radio cars. All radio cars. All radio cars.

Apprehend on sight Robert Kirkwood,

five-and-a-half,

son of Robert Kirkwood, lawyer.

Medium height and build,

dark hair and eyes.

Also, hold for questioning

Vivian Kirkwood,

also known as Killroy or Revere.

But your mother lives upstairs, Junior.

She's waiting for you.

Oh, all right.

- What's this?

I had to do it, I tell you.

- Do what?

- You aren't crying, are you?

Why, no.

Uncle Mike said you were.

Why, no. I'm all right, Junior.

What is this, Mike?

I'll explain later.

I tell you I had to do it, Viv.

- Who is it?

Come on, let us in. Open up.

- Who is it?

- It's Harve. Open up.

How's it, Loftus?

What do you want here?

Ace happened to be listening in

on the radio.

Radio?

Yeah, he likes

those short-wave police calls.

They give him ideas.

- I don't understand.

- You'll find out.

There's a lot more in this deal

than 2,000 bucks.

Ace figures we might as well all cut in.

Say, you got a nerve

busting into my flat like this. Get out!

Uh-oh.

Go on, get in that room and shut up.

You mustn't hurt my mama.

Okay, I'll bear that in mind.

You've got to find him, I tell you.

You've got to find him!

Open up here. Open the door.

Go on, give it to them.

Give them the show!

Give them the show, boys!

"Page 2, Column 4."

"This incident, verified by two witnesses,

"occurred within half an hour

after the kidnapping,

"and the police are confident

"Dunlap was at that time taking the boy

to a hideout somewhere

"in a crowded tenement section nearby. "

You sap!

Could I help it if the kid started to cry?

They're swarming around

like alley cats over a fish head.

I wish Harve would come.

I wish she wouldn't do that.

Stay here.

Is my mamma sick some more?

Now, stay there!

Now, wait a minute.

Open up.

- Did you get the dough?

- No. What a runaround.

What happened?

We drove by the place in a laundry truck,

me peeking out of a hole in the side.

Say, I spotted four d*cks I knew by sight.

No telling how many more

were staked out.

Was the package there?

Sure, and 18 bulls ready to grab

any sucker that gets within 10 yards of it.

Two cops, going in the cigar store

across the street.

And I just left there, bought these.

They're coming out again,

getting in the car.

Did you get anything for her?

She's clean out of it.

How could I? I tell you the heat's on

enough to curl your shoe leather.

The cops are three deep on every corner.

So what?

Lay low. Wait, try again.

Ace is working on a better plan.

She ain't going to get any better.

Are any of us?

And I cannot give you

the news for which you are waiting.

The Kirkwood child has not been found.

The 10th day since the kidnapping

passed without any tangible result,

although the police continue

to run down every clue.

In the state capital...

I tell you this.

We've got to do something and do it quick.

That's right.

But why pick on me?

Why make me the goat?

Because you're the guy

that has to do it.

Junior.

Junior.

Well, come on, out with it.

What do you want?

It's got to be you, Loftus.

I can't do it. I can't do it, I tell you!

In cold blood. I can't do it.

It's got to be you. You brought him here.

He knows you.

You'll be the first one he'll identify

if we duck out and leave him.

We can't stay here.

No grub, no chance now of getting any.

The cops getting closer every minute.

If we split and go out one by one,

we've still got a chance

to collect the dough.

No. No, I won't do it, I tell you.

I won't do it. A kid in cold blood.

I'll kill myself first! I'll kill you!

You can't make...

Junior, Junior, wake up, darling.

Do you hear me?

Yes, Mommy.

Look, sweetheart,

we're playing a game, see?

You must run and hide.

Hide under Mama's bed. Quick.

- Hide and go seek?

- Yes, darling. Hurry.

But you're crying, Mommy.

But I'm happy, darling. I'm happy.

Hurry. Quick.

Don't peek, Mommy.

See what that daffy dame is doing.

Get her out of there

and lock her in the bedroom.

Oh, please, God.

She's daffy, all right.

She thinks she's going somewhere.

She's daubing herself with lipstick

and getting most of it on her nightgown.

Oh, yeah? Open that door.

Come on,

the cops will be here in 10 seconds.

Can't you figure

what she used that lipstick for?

Hurry!

Boys, the Kirkwood boy's on the 4th floor.

Hurry!

And my own dear Mama, wherever she is,

God bless her,

and keep her safe from harm. Amen.

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