White Heat Page #3

where he unloaded $300,000

in federal currency...

without a single bill showing up.

Also, try to learn the identity

of the very special fence...

that engineered this deal.

How does he operate?

Buys stolen money here,

Peddles it on the European black market

for who knows how much.

No questions asked. Sweet racket.

In step with the times.

That's your assignment.

I wouldn't ask you to do

another undercover job...

if we weren't up against it.

Hello, Hank. Prison records from Illinois.

Your new buddies.

- Busy little place, isn't it?

- 2,700 of the roughest and toughest.

A few who might recognize you.

Let's go to work.

- Find another old client?

- Yeah. Red Draper.

Questioned him in '46

about a warehouse job.

That makes two for transfer.

Better run through the arrest once more.

I'll be picked up at a joint

known as Tom's Hideaway.

Bill's Hideaway.

On what seems

like an ordinary hood roundup.

I'm spotted as a lamister.

I make a break for it.

When I pick myself off the floor,

I'm meek as a baby.

- How do I get information out to you?

- Visiting days.

Mother again?

Wife this time.

One thing though. This time,

get me somebody with a good memory.

I had a lot of trouble with my "mother"

in San Quentin.

This time, we'll get you a girl in the bureau

who's a memory expert.

I'm partial to blondes.

Well, who isn't? As soon as I pick her,

I'll send you a picture.

- We move this guy.

- Who is he?

Bo Creel. Arrested him two years ago.

Wait a minute.

We don't have to worry about him.

Finishes his stretch Saturday.

He'll be out before you're sentenced.

Good. Bo Creel would know me

in the dark.

This job isn't going to be

like any of the others, Hank.

You see, there's insanity in the Jarretts.

Some of it rubbed off on Cody.

His father died in an institution.

I've had a few strange cellmates

in my time...

but this sounds like the jackpot.

When he was a kid,

he used to fake headaches...

to get his mother's attention away

from the rest of the family. It worked.

As he grew up,

the fancied headaches became real...

until now they tear him to pieces.

Any minute, he's apt to crack open

at the seams.

There goes our case.

So you'll be working against time.

Suits me. Quicker the better.

Except that Cody's not easy

to get close to in a hurry.

The only person he's ever cared about

or trusted is his mother.

No one else has ever made a dent,

not even his wife.

His mother's been the prop

that's held him up.

He's got a fierce psychopathic devotion

for her.

All his life, whenever he got in a spot...

he just put out his hand,

and there was Ma Jarrett.

Without her, maybe Cody'd...

Just like his old man.

You mean I'm supposed to take

mama's place?

Never can tell. He might need someone.

I'll practice up on my lullabies.

Nothing else here.

Good. Let's run through

your background again.

Born Detroit, March 23, 1919.

State reform school, 1934, vandalism.

Arrested:
Suspicion, grand larceny,

Portland, 1939.

Good.

The State of Illinois v. Arthur Cody Jarrett.

Arthur Cody Jarrett,

on your own admission...

you have been convicted of the robbery

of the Palace Hotel on October 12.

It is now my duty to pronounce sentence.

For the crime of grand larceny,

you are hereby sentenced to serve...

not less than one

and not more than three years...

in the state penitentiary.

The State of Illinois v. Victor Pardo.

How is he? Tough?

With Big Ed giving the orders now,

there'll be all kinds of fireworks.

He's got plans that'll make

the old Jarrett mob look like a...

Can you read him?

Yeah.

Parker moves his lips pretty good.

It's about Big Ed.

What'd he say?

He's the number one boy now,

Parker says.

In more ways than one.

- What was that crack?

- I couldn't read him, Cody.

- Was that about my wife?

- Honest, he had his mouth covered.

Maybe a kick in his skull

would do him some good.

They got rules in this chicken coop. You

start anything, you'll wind up in a hole.

Did I ask you for any advice?

Look, Pardo, I've been watching you...

and up till now, you haven't done

anything I can put my finger on.

Maybe that's what bothers me.

I don't know you,

and what I don't know, I don't trust.

To me, you're a face and a number,

and let's keep it that way.

When I want your help, I'll ask for it.

Have it your way, Cody.

Attention, men.

The following new men report

to the dispensary for shots:

Abbott, Jordan, Bacon, Pardo, Butler...

Jenkins, Jarrett, Williams, Phillips.

Hughes, Russell.

Keep it moving, boys. No talking.

Well, if it ain't Bo Creel.

Boys in L.A. Had a coming-out party.

It was planned for you a month ago.

I'm packing, and bang,

flat on my back with pneumonia.

The doc's checking me out today.

See you in eight years.

Hyde, Frank.

- Keep moving, boys. No talking.

- Jacoby, George.

All right, move up.

Jarrett, Arthur Cody.

I'm leaving tomorrow, Cody.

- Anything I can do for you on the Coast?

- Yeah, look up Big Ed.

- Tell him I was asking for him.

- Johnson, Bate.

Holden, John.

Get the lead out.

Coon, Fred.

Scared, sonny?

Break it up over there.

Who's that reindeer?

I didn't do nothing. He's nuts.

A couple months in solitary

will cool you off, bugger.

Fisher.

Maddox. Pardo.

I'm awfully sorry, my good man.

But Mr. Pardo is still on vacation.

His month's up today.

It is, huh? That's cozy.

Look at what they left out of this one.

It must have been a lulu

before the warden got it.

- Hey, Herbert.

- Yeah.

Any chance you get, read Pardo, will you?

- Why?

- Read him.

Maybe on visiting days.

That's when they loosen up.

What do you have against him, Cody?

Pardo's all right.

Didn't I check his record

up at the dispensary?

That's only a record.

What else do we know about him?

Maybe that envelope

will tell us something.

Think you ought to? That's U.S. Mail.

I'm a U.S. Citizen, ain't I?

Not lately.

Wife. Kid don't talk much.

When you're married,

you don't get a chance to. Nice.

We'll put it right over here

where we can see it.

He'll know we've been in his mail.

All right. So he'll know.

Be a nice surprise

when he gets out of solitary.

Hi, kid.

Let me shake the hand

that slugged Roy Parker.

Why did you do it, Pardo?

You know they got rules in this joint,

don't you?

Yeah. Maybe I didn't want

to get my shots.

I guess his eyes ain't so good

after solitary.

All right, what's the gag?

What's she done to herself?

Had the best-looking blonde I ever saw.

When my back's turned, she's a brunette.

Don't even look like her anymore.

Maybe she's hot.

Whenever I changed my hair,

so did my misses.

She better be a blonde

when I get out of here.

Yeah. Too bad your little trick

didn't work, Pardo.

Doc says you got

to take your shots anyway.

Yeah, Benny.

Mob pulled a caper.

Parker's shooting his mouth off again.

Told Benny your boys pulled a caper.

- How much did they get?

- $57,000.

- Are you in for any of it?

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