Oh, are you hungry?
I'm sorry, Pietro, there's no milk, only bread and cheese.
But tonight, when Mr. Samuels pays us for the statue,
there will be money and you shall have
all the milk you wish and liver from the butcher
and we shall have the electricity turned on again,
so we needn't work by candlelight.
Now come on, have some cheese.
Oh, you don't like cheese.
Confidentially, neither do I,
but it was the best I could borrow from my neighbor.
However, Pietro, I think you are really very fortunate.
You see, you don't need money to get your dinner.
With diligence, you can go out and catch a mouse.
I, I have to catch a customer in order to eat
and customers are much harder to get than mice,
especially customers who understand the product of genius.
Now, run along, Pietro, and catch your dinner
and Pietro, be very thankful that nature is
so kind to little cats like you.
Oh good evening, Mr. Samuels, please come in.
Hello, de lange.
You know Holmes harmon, don't you,
art critic of Manhattan magazine.
Yes, we have met.
I didn't recognize you for a moment, Mr. harmon,
please forgive me, the light, it isn't good.
Welcome to my studio.
You needn't bother to Fawn over me, Marcel,
my visit is strictly professional.
What a dreary place.
I'm sorry you don't approve.
Are you with Mr. Samuels?
Yes.
I brought him along to have a look at the statue
before we close our deal.
After all, I'm new to this business
of collecting art objects.
Oh, I see.
Well where is this priceless gem?
Let's have a look at it.
This way, please.
My latest creation.
Intriguing, don't you think?
And I call it tripe, pure unadulterated tripe,
with an overtone of sheer lunacy.
Oh, you don't care for it?
= t loathe it.
You can certainly thank your lucky stars
that you asked me to come around here tonight.
For a man who's only recently acquired money,
you have some rather nice things in your collection.
Now why should you want to clutter it up
with this abomination,
this meaningless jumble of anatomical accidents...
Stop!
You will leave my house immediately.
Now now, de lange,
there's no reason to get excited.
No reason you say, I suppose I should stand quietly by
and allow this charlatan, this destroyer of true artist
to condemn my finest work?
Get out, both of you!
And I call it tripe, pure unadulterated tripe,
with an overtone of sheer lunacy.
Magnifique, the perfect neanderthal man.
Good morning.
I brought you some breakfast.
Why?
Because you must eat and get your strength back.
Had a close call last night.
Why are you good to me?
Oh, I am doing only what anybody would do
for a man who was injured and almost drowned.
You know who I am?
I don't care who you are.
I only know that I need you.
= you heed me?
Yes, I want you to pose for a statue.
It will be my crowning achievement,
a masterpiece, it will live forever.
= you ain't afraid of me?
Why should I be afraid of you?
I owe you my life.
You see, I was going to jump into the river,
destroy myself and then I found you,
the inspiration I needed to carry on.
I owe you even more than my life.
When I was drying your clothes,
I found money in them, $3.00.
I have a confession to make, I have no money,
so I have already used $2.00 of it to buy some food.
For me?
Yes.
You're my friend.
Shake.
And you will stay here with me and pose for the statue?
= sure.
That's all for the night.
Oh it's coming along very nicely.
What is it?
To you it looks like nothing at the moment,
but to me, an artist, it's beginning to take form
to reveal the promise of stark beauty.
= mud.
Have it your way.
I'm turning in.
Got a match, mister?
Go away.
Don't touch me!
Stop yelling.
I won't stop, you go away.
You say her spine was snapped, doc?
Yeah.
Roll her back, Jerry.
Back you go, my lovely.
Remember the Dawson girl?
You mean the one who was murdered up on riverside drive?
That's right.
Anything in this killing reminds you of that one?
= sure it does.
Dawson girl's spine was snapped too.
Mmhmm.
That was one of the creeper's little jobs.
This dame couldn't have been murdered by the creeper,
he's dead.
So I read in the papers, but they didn't find his body
when they dragged the river, did they?
No, they didn't.
Gee, if the creeper's still alive,
I'm gonna put in some overtime.
Dinner is ready, such as it is.
Not a sumptuous repast,
but enough to keep us from starving.
= no meat?
No money.
I made your $3.00 last for a week.
Now we are without funds again.
Use plenty of salt and pepper on your potatoes, it helps.
I see by the evening paper that a woman was murdered
in the neighborhood last night.
= yeah.
Yes, her spine was snapped.
I've often wondered why a man would want
to snap a woman's spine.
= she screamed.
An annoying habit on the part of women, screaming.
You know, you and I are puppets,
dancing on strings, pulled by an art critic
named f. Holmes harmon.
What's puppet?
But for this man harmon, we would have money,
plenty of it.
I was about to sell a statue, one of my best, for $1,000
until he interfered.
Listen to what he says in this column.
"I am pleased to report that I played the role
"of a knight in shining armor in a recent evening,
"preventing a patron of the arts
"who has far more money than judgment
"from being roped into paying $1,000 for one of
"Marcel de lange's fantastic and worthless creations.
"There must be a place for fellows like de lange.
"I haven't quite decided where,
"but I lean strongly toward the theory
"that a cozy institution surrounded by a high stone wall,
"featuring hot and cold running straight jackets
"would be eminently suited to artists of his ilk."
Fool.
Stupid cruel fool.
You don't like the guy.
= like him?
If I were able, I would tear him apart with my two hands.
He has crucified me, robbed me time and again
and he sits there in his office,
in the Dover tower, night after night,
blasting the hopes and dreams of artists like myself.
And we are helpless to do anything about it.
If you're the janitor, come back later.
If you're anyone else, you'll find a window
at the end of the hall, jump out of it.
Thanks for the cordial welcome my kindly colleague.
Oh, it's you.
Mmhmm, in the flesh and not bad either.
Several young men in my mirror
tell me that everyday.
Well, I take it you're in the throes
of tearing Steve morrow's one-man show to pieces
because he quarreled with you tonight.
Mmhmm.
Ti knew it.
Steven morrow, a young man utterly lacking in talent,
flaunted his artistic endeavors before the public
in a one-man show last Tuesday evening
at the 57th street galleries.
His paintings are devoted exclusively to girls,
luscious blonds, sultry brunettes,
all wearing the save vacuous expression
and very little else.
I wanna talk to you about Steve, Holmes.
Naturally, what else would bring you here?
I suppose you've already written up his show
in glowing terms.
I thought his show deserved it.
Why don't you overlook his hot headed-ness
and give him a break?
You're in love with the young man, I'm not.
You know, sometimes I feel sorry for you.
You must be very unhappy.
You're wasting your pity.
I'm really a very happy fellow,
especially when I'm deflating the egos
of artistic pretenders.
Steve morrow is not a pretender.
He's honest and he has talent
and on top of that, he's successful.
Judged by the dollar sign, yes.
Unfortunately the general public's appreciation of art
is limited to billboards and magazine covers.
The morons wallow in a sea of girls, girls,
unbelievably beautiful and well proportioned girls.
Are you saying that Steve should paint
ugliness instead of beauty?
Oh, I don't say that anyone should do anything,
I merely say, as a critic, what he actually does.
Then why don't you temper your criticism with the truth?
Well sure, you have a right to say you don't like apple pie,
but it's certainly unfair to say that apple pie isn't good.
You're a clever wench, Joan,
but we're not talking about apple pie,
we're talking about cheesecake.
Here, for example, is a little bit of your Mr. morrow's art.
= is that bad?
It's revolting.
Did you ever see a girl that perfect?
You don't get around much, do you?
That's why I feel sorry for you, Holmes.
You crawl into your bottle of acid and stay there,
dripping vitriol indiscriminately, always destroying.
Look, I didn't come here to log roll for Steve.
I only hoped you'd review his show for what it is,
solid commercial art.
Forget that I came and have your fun.
Joan, just a minute.
You know, maybe there's something in what you say.
I'm rather envious of young morrow
having a defender as beautiful as you are.
Why Mr. harmon, that sounds like there might be
blood in your veins instead of acid.
Maybe I don't get around enough.
You know, my entire attitude towards life and art
might change if I had the proper guide,
someone like you, for instance, hm?
Is that what we girls jokingly call a pass?
There's nothing joking about it.
It's a very serious suggestion
that we might have dinner together one evening.
What do you say?
We might.
Call me.
Now I want you to think hard.
Try and remember the people you hauled
to and from this floor after 8:00.
Oh, that's easy.
I brought Mr. harmon up just before 8:00.
Then there was just one more passenger.
She came up about a quarter after 8:00
and went down again in 10 minutes.
A girl?
What'd she look like?
Oh, slim blond with plenty of class,
a tricky hat and very sheer nylons.
You don't miss a thing, do you?
Gets lonesome here at night.
You think she did it?
Well not if she fits your description.
Slim blonds don't go around snapping men's spines.
Gee, is that the way you got it?
That's what the deputy coroner says.
That's how he was killed,
just like that girl we looked at in the 12th street morgue.
Did you see anybody come up here during the evening?
Oh no sir, not a soul.
That ain't strange, I get so absorbed in my work
that I don't even notice what's going on around me
and I don't make a practice of snooping around
because sometimes one of the tenants
wants to do some night work
and they don't want nobody snooping around.
You shooped enough to find harmon's body.
Well yes I did.
I came in to snap off the lights and to tidy up a bit.
Okay, you can go.
You think maybe the creeper or his ghost
pulled this job too?
Same technique.
= can't tell.
You got any thoughts about who might have done it?
At least one thought.
Relax, Stella.
Busy place.
Good morning, Mr. morrow.
Good morning.
Mind if I come in, I'd like to talk to you.
I'm sorry, but if you're selling anything, I'm very busy.
No, no I'm not selling anything.
In fact, I might buy something from you.
Well, nice work.
Yeah, but you can't get it.
My name's Larry Brooks, gorgeous,
just a John law guy, but I appreciate art when I, uh,
see it in the flesh.
You're something extra special.
Well thanks, Mr. Brooks.
My name is Stella McNally, parkway 24041.
I'll remember that, never forget a name.
Take a rest, Stella.
You mentioned buying something.
What's on your mind?
Your story of what happened between
you and Holmes harmon at his office last night.
If it's good, I'll buy it,
if it isn't we take a walk to the nearest station house.
Oh I haven't the slightest idea how harmon was killed
if that's what you mean.
= that's what I mean.
Does this look familiar to ya?
Read it carefully.
He certainly tore my back off with a shovel, didn't he?
Yeah, somebody tore into me like that,
I'd wanna twist his spine.
You're a big strong fella, aren't you, morrow?
Sorry to disappoint you, officer, I didn't kill the man.
= no?
= no.
Did I hear someone mention killing?
That's right, who are you?
Joan medford, who are you?
Lieutenant Brooks, homicide detail.
Oh, I see and you think that Steve killed Holmes harmon
because he... - Because he
and harmon had a clash at the 57th street
art galleries last night.
Are you denying that, Mr. morrow?
No, he sneered at my show
and I threatened to ring his neck.
And you kept your promise when you went to his office
and he taunted you with that review he was writing.
Oh that's lovely logic, lieutenant,
but there's a catch to it,
Steve couldn't have gone to harmon's office last night.
Why not?
Because he was with me at my apartment,
from the time we left the galleries
'til 3:30 this morning, drinking coffee
and talking about the show.
My paper says the body was discovered at 11:00.
Is that true?
= yeah.
Well then, don't you think
you ought to be hunting the real murderer?
Every minute counts you know.
Okay miss medford, the alibi stands 'til I check on it.
Oh uh, both of you know New York pretty well?
=t do.
How about you, darling? Lived here all my life.
Good then you're familiar with the city limits.
Stay inside them, I wanna talk to you again, soon.
And why did you say you were with me last night?
To give you time to think in case you did call on harmon.
= well I didn't.
= t did.
= you what?
I was in harmon's office last night.
Must have been just a few minutes before he was killed.
What were you doing with that heel?
Leading him on with my feminine wiles
so he'd make a pass at me.
He did and I killed him with my own two hands.
I know that's supposed to be funny, but it isn't.
You do too much of that sort of thing.
What sort of thing?
Going to people's offices and studios
at all hours, I won't stand for it.
Hey, hey, wait a minute, Stevie,
look at me, I'm a big girl and definitely not the homebody.
My job happens to take me to odd places at strange hours,
but it's a living and I like it.
= well I don't.
Oh, well then you'd better find yourself
a nice comfortable fireside type.
She'll bore you to death,
but you'll always know where to find her.
I'll take that Clay if you don't mind.
= sure.
I noticed by this morning's paper that my hated enemy,
Mr. harmon, was murdered last night.
You glad?
Very glad.
He deserved to be killed.
His death will be welcome by many artists in New York.
Good, everybody happy.
We have a caller, perhaps you'd better not be seen.
Quick, behind that scaffold.
Good morning, genius.
Oh it's you, miss medford.
I couldn't imagine who would be calling
at my poor studio at this hour.
Please come in.
Thank you.
What can I do for you?
Oh, talk a little, tell me what you're doing.
Art news is scarce, except for the murder of Holmes harmon
and I'm not a crime reporter.
Tragic thing, Mr. harmon's death.
He will be terribly missed.
By whom?
= Mr. harmon was a Dean of the critics.
= he also was a heel.
Don't kid me, little man,
plenty of people are glad he's gone, including you.
Yes, that's right, miss medford.
I really feel no pangs of grief, the man was a devil.
Well now that that's settled, tell me about yourself.
What's this little number, may I peek?
Oh please miss medford, not yet.
I have only just started to work on it.
It's, well, it's entirely different
from anything I've done before.
I promise, you shall be the first to see it
when it is completed.
For the present, it's a secret.
Okay, keep your secret.
What have you sold lately, Marcel?
Nothing.
I came very close to making an important sale,
but Mr. harmon spoiled it.
Oh yes, I remember, he bragged about it in his column.
Well cheer up, Marcel, he'll spoil no more sales for you.
True and if you will not think me too assuming,
miss medford, I should like to open a bottle of wine
in honor of his passing.
It's the only luxury I have left.
Go right ahead, I'll browse around while you're doing it.
Help yourself.
The wine is ready, miss medford.
Thank you.
Come in lieutenant Brooks.
How did you know it was me?
Oh, I thought you'd drop in and check up
when you found out I wasn't with Joan last night,
but I still have an airtight alibi, I was...
I know, you were cutting touches
with a dozen other artists
at a basement restaurant on 56th street.
It was a fairly quiet party 'til about 2:00 in the morning.
Then all of a sudden, things got very gay.
Yeah, that was when somebody brought in a paper
with the news of harmon's death.
Naturally, we celebrated.
Think of any reason why miss medford
should lie to me about being with you?
The poor misguided girl is in love with me.
She did it to protect me.
= or herself.
She was in harmon's office about the time he was killed.
Look, she didn't kill him...
= t did too!
Don't be telling lieutenant Brooks I'm innocent!
I'm a female desperate Desmond,
always going places and killing people.
I killed Holmes harmon because he made improper advances.
What kind of improper advances?
Why the man asked me to go to dinner with him.
That, coming from harmon, made a justifiable homicide.
Do you wanna put the bracelets on me, copper?
No, I know you're guilty,
but you've got a lot of redeeming qualities,
including your undying love for this lucky stiff.
So I'm letting you go free, gal.
Oh, that's mighty nice of you, sheriff.
Well I gotta run along.
Sorry to bother you, Mr. morrow,
but in my line, a clue"s a clue, you know how it is.
= sure.
I'm gonna miss dropping in here.
Too bad we had to open and close in two baby,
but I'll always remember your name.
= oh that's sweet.
Look it up in the phone book sometime.
There's a number right after it.
Oh, I never forget a number.
That'll be all for today, Stella.
Anymore office experiences?
I dropped in to see Marcel de lange and guess what?
He chased you around the studio
with a sculpture's hammer and you escaped
by the skin of your teeth.
Don't be silly.
I'm not, I'm serious.
It'll happen sooner or later
if you keep on going up there alone.
The man's completely nuts.
You can't tell what he might decide to do for amusement.
That's ridiculous,
Marcel's just a harmless little screwball
and believe it or not,
he started to work on something that seems to make sense.
It's supposed to be a big secret, but I peeked.
What is it?
Well it has all the earmarks of being a head.
Of course, it could turn out to be something horrible.
= it'll have at least two heads
before Marcel gets through with it.
How about a cocktail?
= I'd love it.
We'll drink to our vindication.
And who may I ask are you?
Are you Mr. ormiston?
= tt am.
Do you mind removing your feet from my desk?
I think better with my feet up.
Sit down Mr. ormiston.
My dear fellow, you happen to be sitting in my chair
in my office and your feet are on my desk.
I haven't the slightest idea who you are
or why you're here, but I must insist...
= sit down.
I wanna ask you a few questions, most of 'em academic.
Here's my diploma.
You're from the police?
That's right, lieutenant Brooks.
Then I know why you're here
and I can explain about that traffic ticket.
I, I, I've been intending to take care of it...
No, forget about the traffic ticket.
I'm here to talk about murder.
= murder?
= yeah.
How well did you know f. Holmes harmon?
Quite well, but I assure you,
I had nothing to do with killing him.
No, I'm sure you didn't, you're not the killer type.
Had a lot of enemies, didn't he?
Yes indeed, 90% of the artists in New York
hated the man's insides.
Just as they hate mine.
Why?
Because 90% of the people who think they are artists
should be house painters, brick layers or hard carriers.
= is Steven morrow in that class?
No, I wouldn't say that.
Morrow has a faint spark of talent, very faint,
but discernible.
You think morrow killed harmon?
= that's what I wanna find out.
Mr. ormiston, how would you like to be the bait
in a police trap?
It sounds positively intriguing.
Tell me more.
Well, Holmes harmon was writing a nasty review
of Steve morrow's show the night he was murdered.
Morrow has what looks like a perfect alibi.
He's supposed to have been with a dozen other artists
the time of the murder.
However, if most artists hated harmon, as you say...
They may have cooked up the alibi for morrow?
Yeah, could be.
What do you want me to do?
Well, I want you to write a column about morrow.
Tearing him to pieces?
= you catch on fast.
Think you can do it?
My dear fellow, words are my meat and drink
and in the interest of justice,
I shall make them crackle with venomous fire.
In fact, I shall compare Mr. Morrow's artistic endeavors
with a bizarre and meaningless effusions
of a sculpture of my acquaintance
who is the laughing stock of New York art circles.
No insult could be more effective, I assure you.
That ought to do it.
Write it and we'll see how it goes.
One moment, lieutenant Brooks,
naturally you will be around if and when it does happen?
Oh naturally.
Wait here, I'll be right back.
Yes sir.
You don't mind if I go home early tonight,
do you, darling?
I've got a deadline to meet tomorrow
with that magazine cover.
Are you sure you're going right home?
What do you mean?
Well that's a very sharp looking cab driver.
Say, she is sharp.
Maybe I can spare her a couple of hours at that.
That was just to let you know I'll be thinking of you
every moment I'm with her.
Oh thank you, darling, that's why I love you,
you're always scattering crumbs of happiness.
Good night.
727 afton square.
Yes, sir.
Listen closely, Clarence, my lad,
I have penned a deathless masterpiece of barbed invective.
Yeah, don't kid me, Mr. Ormiston, you don't use a pen.
I saw you do it on the typewriter
and not very fast either.
Merely a figure of speech, my boy
and please don't interrupt.
I devote my stick of type today to a frank appraisal
of the very doubtful talents of a young brush wielder
named Steven morrow.
You will note that I do not dignify young morrow
with the term artist.
He definitely is not an artist in any sense of the word.
The empty faced girls morrow paints
have no more artistic significance
than the crazily conceived creations
of that well known madman of the sculpting profession,
Marcel de lange.
Another one.
Harmon dies and another persecutor arises to hound me.
Am I always to be beaten down by heartless ignorant critics
who find strange delight in singling me out
as a subject for their cruelty?
Why am I not big and strong
so that I could throttle this man, ormiston?
I can see him now, a drink at his elbow,
chuckling over his cleverly turned phrases.
He has money and food and drink while we must starve.
It is unfair, I tell you.
= where does he live?
At the Bagley terrace on east 54th street.
I changed my mind, driver,
take me to the Bagley terrace on east 54th street.
Yes, sir.
Keep the change.
= gee thanks.
Yes?
Hello ormiston, I'm Steve morrow, remember me?
Oh yes, I do remember you.
That was your one-man show at the 57th street galleries
last week, wasn't it?
= you know it was.
What can I do for you?
We're gonna talk about that column of yours I just read.
Do we do it out here and wake up the neighbors
or am I invited in?
Well I must say...
I'll do the saying, make up your mind.
Come in, by all means.
Ti detest brawls in halls.
I refer the verbal brawls, of course.
I'm not so sure this is going to be verbal.
Just what was your idea in taking me apart?
Please sit down Mr. morrow and I'll try to explain.
I'll stand on my feet, it better be good.
Are you threatening me?
Take it as you like, I asked a question.
As a critic, I voice my own opinions.
I sincerely believe what I wrote about you.
= that's a lie.
You wrote a very good review of my show last week
and now all of a sudden,
you decide I haven't got any talent.
What are you trying to pull,
the same kind of stuff harmon used to,
slapping artists around just for the fun of it?
Mr. morrow, I will not be intimidated in my own home.
Your mention of poor harmon convinces me
you are capable of any violence.
I must insist that you leave immediately,
otherwise I shall call the police.
Very well.
Get away from that phone before I ring your neck.
Take your hands off him, morrow.
Oh, lieutenant Brooks,
the well known police trap, huh?
Very old stuff, lieutenant.
Old, but still good.
You don't think this really proves
I killed harmon, do you?
Figure it out for yourself.
Harmon was writing a column about you.
He was murdered before it was even finished.
Ormiston wrote and printed his
and you barge in here and try to ring his neck.
He's the murderer, I'm sure of it.
I've been through a terrible ordeal, lieutenant.
I don't know how you feel about it,
but I feel the need of a drink.
Will you join me?
Why not?
I'll get it right away.
Sounds like ormiston dropped the bottle.
Don't go away.
Ormiston!
Joe, out that door.
Good afternoon, Picasso, how's the masterpiece coming?
Think you'll make the deadline?
I'll make it just in time to take you to dinner.
Where's your police guard?
Oh, lieutenant Brooks sent a man over,
but the fellow made me nervous,
reminded me of a great Dane with reproachful eyes,
so I sent him back.
= you shouldn't have done that.
Nobody knows who the killer's gonna pick next
and he seems to specialize in art critics.
Nobody's going to murder me, darling,
t have too much to live for
and you're my biggest much.
'Sides, I have work to do.
I have to dig up enough material for a Sunday column
and I haven't the slightest idea
where I'm going to find it.
Are you sure it won't disconcert you
if I drop in around dinner time?
You always disconcert me, darling, but I love it.
You lovely man.
See you later.
Take care of yourself.
You happy?
Very happy, ours is a very fortunate alliance, my friend.
Before you came into my life, I felt put upon.
I was haunted constantly by the feeling
that I was persecuted, helpless to fight back,
but now I have a feeling of power, limitless power.
No one shall stand in my way.
So when every critic will recognize my greatness.
They'd better.
Greetings, Marcel.
What's doing in the realm of genius?
Ah, miss medford, you do me the favor to visit me again.
Please come in.
Marcel, I'm stuck for a Sunday column
and you've gotta help me out.
I'll do whatever I can,
but there's very little news with me.
How's this little number coming along?
Ready for me to crack a big story on it yet?
No, not yet, but very soon it will be
and again, I promise you, when it is completed,
you shall be the first to see it.
Good, but that gets me no news now.
Maybe I'd better interview you on the hal ormiston murder.
After all, he lambasted you as well as my boyfriend
in that column of his.
Did you kill him, Marcel, and if so, how?
Surely you can't be serious, miss medford?
Of course not, nice harmless little guy like you
wouldn't hurt a fly.
Hey, Marcel, you're holding out on me.
You mean about poor Mr. ormiston?
No, you sold the horns of the dilemma.
Oh that, yes, I sold it,
but I didn't consider the sale
important enough to mention it.
Who bought it?
= that I can't disclose.
My client requested that there be no publicity.
Mm, well at least I can write a line or two
saying you sold it.
Oh, and by the way, I'm a little surprised at you.
= t don't understand.
= you make a sale and don't even
offer a hardworking art critic a glass of wine.
Oh, my profound apologies.
I'll fetch the wine immediately.
That's better.
Knock off a copy of this for a quick look.
Coming up.
Evening, Walter.
Oh hello joanie, what's cookin'?
Big favor for me if you'll do it,
ti lifted this little number and I have to
get it back to where it came from in a hurry.
How about rushing it right through for me?
Sure, how big do you want it?
Oh, a three column cut for my Sunday page
and rush the original back to my office.
Meanwhile, I'll shoot through a caption.
Okay.
Rush, rush, rush, that's all you get around here.
That statue of yours is beginning to take form.
Do you approve of it, my friend?
It's pretty.
Yes, you're right, it does have beauty and strength,
although those who do not appreciate true art
will probably call it ugly.
That's funny, where's my sketch?
It's gone.
That girl took something.
What?
Are you sure?
= yeah.
Walter sent this up, miss medford.
Oh thanks, Pete, I have something for him too.
See that he gets it right away, will you?
Okay.
Hey, wait a minute, you unhappy about it?
I'm very unhappy about it,
Walter called me just when I was about
to make my fifth straight pass
and now you give me a rush job.
I thought you told me last week
you were through shooting craps forever.
That, my dear young woman, was the day before payday.
Get me that man, Nora, will you?
Tired, aren't you Stella?
= a little.
Few more minutes'll do it. Think you can stick it out?
= sure.
= hello?
Oh, hello sweetheart.
Look darling, I'll be a little late for our engagement,
t have an errand to do.
Oh come on, let the errand wait.
I'll be all finished in a few minutes
and ready to do the town.
Sorry, can't put it off, gotta see a man about a sketch.
Oh, so it's that kind of an errand, huh?
What do you expect me to do,
sit around here and twiddle my thumbs 'til I hear from you?
Oh please, not thumb twiddling.
Awful things are said about thumb twiddlers,
but if nothing better occurs to you,
you might meet me here.
I won't be long, bye.
Hey smitty, come here.
Take a look at this.
What about it?
Remind you of anything?
Well let's see now,
ves, it does, reminds me
of that big gorilla down at the zoo.
My kids are sure crazy about him.
Is that what you had in mind?
Nope, not exactly.
See what I mean?
Yeah.
Miss medford, why don't you identify this guy
as the creeper or is it a secret?
Maybe she's trying to mystify her readers.
Yeah, hey boy, come here.
Take this up to miss medford right away.
Okay.
This is a conspiracy.
I telephoned miss medford at her office.
She isn't there.
= you scared?
Yes.
And you should be frightened also, my friend,
she has that sketch I made of you.
= is that bad?
Yes, it is.
She must be showing it around town.
At this very moment,
she's probably showing it to Steven morrow.
The operator said she might be with him.
He has a studio at 727 afton square.
Well that winds it up.
Another morrow girl is waiting to make the pinup fans drool.
= not bad.
So you think I might get a movie contract
if the right people see it?
Why not?
The hungry maw of the cinema
is always waiting to devour a new beauty.
Hello?
Yeah, she's here.
It's for you, Stella.
= hello?
Hello beautiful,
this is a man who never forgets a name or a number,
only when I called your number just now, nobody answered.
= well I wasn't home.
But lieutenant Brooks, how did you know I was here?
Well a smart cop has to know all the answers.
I even figured that the answer might be yes
if I asked you to go to dinner with me tonight.
Why, why ves, I'd love it, I guess.
Hold the phone a moment.
Say, is it all right if I meet lieutenant Brooks here?
Sure, you can even buy him a drink.
Hello, lieutenant, it's a date.
Great, great, I'll be there in 20 minutes.
Bye.
Do you think it would be safe going out with a detective?
It's your constitutional right to call your attorney
when you're in the custody of an officer of the law.
But I haven't an attorney.
Then remember, anything you say or do
will be held against you and you'd better
put on some clothes too unless you're planning
on playing tennis with the guy.
Good luck.
Pietro, my greatest work is haunted.
The meddling girl is planning to cause trouble,
just as I am about to give the world a deathless masterpiece.
If only header here would strangle her.
But perhaps my friend the creeper
has already taken care of that detail.
= just a minute.
Who are you?
What do you want?
Stop screaming.
Help, help!
Help!
= hello Marcel.
Well why the astonished look?
Is my hat on cockeyed or something?
= no.
Your hat is beautiful.
It's only that I didn't expect you to be calling at night.
Oh, now don't tell me
you're putting a curfew on visiting art critics?
Well, aren't you going to invite me in?
Yes, of course, come in.
I'll tell you why I came back, Marcel,
I'm still stuck for a Sunday feature
and I thought if we sat down and talked,
I might coax a story out of you.
Perhaps a history of your career
from the time you decided to be a sculpture.
It would make good,
why are you startled?
Is it that my statue frightens you?
Oh, I'm not startled, Marcel
and I'm certainly not frightened of a statue.
The sheer artistry of your work overwhelms me, that's all.
Why it's magnificent.
= you think it worthwhile then?
Oh, not only that, it's masterful.
Such strength, the perfect neanderthal man.
You have described it faithfully.
Oh, don't speak, Marcel.
Just let me admire it silently from all angles.
Certainly, there's no hurry.
I'll fetch some wine.
Okay you can come out now, gorgeous, the law is here.
And there I found him, half drowned, unconscious,
the inspiration for my greatest work.
All thoughts of destroying myself disappeared.
I was afire with a determination to work again,
to create a statue that would bring cheers
instead of sneers from the critics.
And you were the first to see it, miss medford,
just as I'd promised.
And you've given me a great story, Marcel.
Oh, it's really big.
Wait'll you see it in print.
You mustn't leave yet, you haven't heard the whole story.
I'll fetch some more wine.
Oh please don't bother, I have a deadline to meet.
I promise you that you will not miss your deadline.
Observe, the bottle is covered with dust.
It's a memento of more prosperous days.
I'm opening it because it is a special occasion.
But really Marcel, I must be going now.
You will find that this is worth waiting for.
Hello Nora, this is Steve morrow.
Any idea where my adored one might be?
No I haven't, Mr. morrow.
What's the matter, you got that stood up feeling?
I'm beginning to get it.
Well she should call in.
Tell her I'm on the verge of thumb twiddling, will ya?
Yes, Mr. morrow.
Okay sweetheart.
You have no idea what this experience has done for me,
miss medford.
You remember me when I was a frustrated beaten man,
but now I fear no one, not even you.
Me?
Why should you be afraid of me?
Why did you steal my sketch?
Oh, oh, so you know about that.
Yes, why did you steal it?
Well, I thought I was doing you a big favor.
I don't have to tell you that artists thrive on publicity
and I thought you'd appreciate my running
a sketch of your statue in the Sunday art section.
Very generous motive, if true.
Are you sure there was no other reason?
= what other reason could there be?
I thought perhaps you might have guessed
the identity of my model.
Sorry, all I know about him is what you told me
about fishing him out of the river.
I am greatly relieved.
So am I.
I really can't stay any longer, Marcel.
I'm sorry, but I must ask you to stay.
I wouldn't think of having you leave
without meeting my model in person.
He'll be here presently.
You'll find him very interesting.
Look little man,
this may be your idea of a joke,
but there's nothing funny about it to me.
You are right, there's nothing funny about it.
It's tragic.
I regret very much that a beautiful girl like you must die
just as your colleagues harmon and ormiston died.
Marcel, you're mad.
Things like this just don't happen.
You can't go on killing people.
= but I can.
My devoted friend is my symbol of strength,
of power, for him, I shall destroy all of my enemies,
including you.
It's not at all complicated.
You will meet the creeper.
The river is close by.
You will simply disappear.
You'll never get away with it.
That sketch of the creeper is in the engraving plan
of my newspaper right now.
Someone's bound to recognize it.
Perhaps, but even if someone does recognize it,
they can't possibly suspect that you are here.
= you think not?
You're forgetting a little detail, aren't you?
Possibly, what is it, may I ask?
Your signature on that sketch.
Newspaper people aren't dummies, Marcel.
That signature definitely links you
with your ugly little pet.
The police are going to ask you plenty of questions.
In that case, I shall insist that I had no idea
that I was harboring a murderer.
In fact, I shall be properly horrified
by discovering that my model was this monster.
The police, naturally, will arrest him
and there will be no doubt about his conviction
and the publicity will make my statue famous overnight.
You let the police get me, huh?
Certainly he would.
You heard him say it.
He's gonna show that statue to the world
and the moment he does,
people will know that you posed for it.
You'll die for the murders he planned,
but he'll live, he'll be famous.
He doesn't care what happens to you.
= yeah.
Stop, you fool!
Don't touch it.
= come here.
= wait.
Open up in there!
Joan, are you in there?
Yes, Steve, help!
Shut up.
Open up in there.
= Steve!
Hurry, Steve!
Steve.
Oh Steve.
You certainly got here at the right time.
How'd you manage it?
I saw that sketch on miss medford's desk too.
Gimme a hand,
we've got to get this man to a hospital in a hurry.
What I can't understand is why you went back to Marcel's
when you knew his model was the creeper.
= but I didn't know.
Well how could that be, you saw the sketch?
Well I had no idea it was a sketch of the creeper.
You call yourself an art critic.
= Steve,
hm?
I don't wanna be an art critic anymore.
Does anything occur to you?
Mmhmm.