"Paper, morning paper..." "Morning Tribune paper." "How are we gonna know this guy?" "Remember, the man in Mike's car gotta see him too." "Oh, that's all right." "I'm going to kiss him, and how." "Good, you might as well make him happy." "It'll be the last pair of lips that hit him." "No." "You don't think he could have gone away, do you?" "Here he comes now." "Thanks, handsome." "I just couldn't pass you up." "Believe it or not, I never saw her in my life before." "I must have overlooked something." "Bloody shame, sir." "Close to annoying." "Right under me very nose." "Your nose?" "I'll get the car, sir." "Save 'em." "Okay this time, Mr Avery?" "How was it for you, George?" "Okay." "Oh, Ray." "Could we do it again?" "Number 10." "Up high!" "Ninety-nine!" "Quiet." "Do you wanna move in and take a close-up at the top of the stairs?" "No, that was terrible." "I'll make it over." "Yes, sir." "We'll do it again, folks." "All right, scene 99." "Let's run it over." "All of it." "Move that car back here." "Hold it!" "Come on!" "Take it easy." "Mr. Brent... when you dive this time, let's have less gymnastics." "And don't spin like a top when you fall." "Okay, let's go." "Come on, folks." "Move that one over there..." "What's the matter?" "What's that?" "What's the matter?" "Stand back, everybody." "Call a doctor." "Come on, give me a hand." "Let's get him to his dressing-room." "We won't need a doctor, George." "He's dead." "Dead?" "Round up every man that had a gun." "Get the property man and find out who loaded those guns." "And see that the body isn't touched." "I'm going to phone the front office." "Yes, sir." "All right, everybody." "Line up over there." "And all you fellas with guns stand over there." "Keep that door closed." "And see that no one leaves the stage and no one comes in." "Yes." "My dear Mr Little," "Since I read your scenario" "I have come to the absolutely conclusion." "That your name, Mr Little, fits you something beautiful." "And furthermore and yet besides." "Bahhh." "Yes?" "Oh, yes, Mr Avery." "Just a minute." "It's Mr Avery." "Tell him to finish on schedule." "He's two days behind already." "Talking to me is a waste in time." "But he says it's important." "That's the problem." "He's too important entirely." "Hello." "What?" "Brent?" "Shot?" "Dead?" "Oy, that's going to cost me a fortune." "What a calamity." "Quick!" "Call Steiner." "Tell him Brent was killed, shot." "What a calamity, what a calamity." "I'll get it, Bill." "Thanks." "Yes?" "Myles Brent was shot on the set." "Killed!" "Mr Grossmith has gone to the stage." "I'll be right there." "Myles Brent." "Killed." "On general principal, not a bad idea." "Except that he happens to be one of our stars." "Get back to your office and do what you can to keep the papers off this until we hear what happened." "Don't give out any story until you hear from me." "Sure, but rescue me as soon as possible." "They'll be on my neck just as soon as the police get the news." "Miss Molly." "Yes?" "Phone the brigade on the lot." "And tell them not to let anyone in or out until they hear from me." "Very well." "Thanks." "Hey, why don't you watch where I'm going?" "What's the hurry, gumshoe?" "Myles Brent's been shot." "Now there's a job that should have been done years ago." "Oh..." "You won't have to rewrite any stuff for The Death Kiss now." "Say, Marcia was on the set with him, wasn't she?" "Sure, but I don't think she did it." "What stage?" "Three." "Drop this stuff in my office, will you?" "Myles Brent, huh?" "Picture actor." "My wife always liked him." "I had that kind of trouble too." "Come on, let's go." "All right, fellas, here's something hot." "Myles Brent killed." "Shot." "Sound Stage number 3." "Tonart Studio." "Operator." "Operator." "Hey, that's the Evening Star phone." "You're telling me?" "Give me the journal, please." "Hello, Tonart?" "I want Max Hill in the publicity department." "Come on, snap him." "You know me, Connelly I never held out on the Evening Star yet." "Yeah, I know all about your deadline." "You'll get the pack." "Call me back." "Never mind, I'll get it." "Yeah." "Yes, Morris, I know." "But can I help it if he's shot in the morning?" "You gotta take those things as they come." "Yeah, I'm going over there right away." "The police oughta be here now." "Call me back in ten minutes." "Hey, come back here." "Pull down that door." "Ambulance coming." "Yeah." "Detective Lieutenant Sheehan, Homicide Squad." "Who's in charge here?" "I've been trying to get things straightened out for you." "My name is Steiner." "Studio manager." "What happened?" "Well, the company was shooting the scene during which several people fired guns at Brent." "And someone used real bullets, huh?" "People do get hurt that way." "That's the director's guess." "Oh, the director." "Did he happen to guess who did it?" "No." "That's unfortunate." "Looks like we'll have to do some guessing on our own." "Come on, Hill, loosen up." "Did someone really bump him off?" "I tell you, I don't know." "Then let us in on the lot so we can find out." "I can't let anyone on the lot." "Marcia Lane was with him in the picture, wasn't she?" "Sure, she was doing the lead opposite him." "Marcia, oh, his ex-wife." "That helps the story." "What's the name of the picture?" "The Death Kiss." "The Death Kiss." "Gee, what a tie up." "Eight men with guns?" "Yes." "Well, it might have been an accident, but..." "Frank, you don't think it was murder." "Darling, I don't even know *** Maybe he died of old age." "Maybe he never even existed at all." "Now you wait here." "I'm gonna have a look around." "Yours." "You break it." "Nothing but blanks left in these guns." "Any other guns on the set?" "That's all I know of." "You see, Captain, it's strictly an accident." "Lieutenant Sheehan." "What's your name?" "Leon A. Grossmith." "I'm the president of this concern." "Well, what about it?" "Now look here, Sargeant." "Do you realize what this has cost me already?" "You have no idea." "It cost me up to now... $239.351." "Yeah, and it cost Brent his life." "Which also loses me money." "I can't have no more Brent in my picture." "Pardon me, Lieutenant." "Mr Grossmith means to convey that this regrettable accident need not be converted into a Roman holiday for the rabble." "I assure you that Mr Grossmith feels deeply, very deeply the tragedy of this affair." "And his point is, naturally, not to throw consternation into that great and unseen army of Mr Brent's admirers." "Now that is precisely what Mr Grossmith means." "That's just what I was going to say." "Mr Steiner, Mr Steiner." "Pardon me." "What is it?" "The peckers are on my neck." "I've got to tell them something." "There's no use stalling any longer." "And they've got a story now about a mysterious woman." "They don't know themselves, but they say it makes a great story." "Tell them it was an accident." "They won't believe it." "Then make them." "You don't know those boys." "They've got imagination." "I don't care if they got fallen arches." "Tell them the Brent shooting was an unfortunate accident." "Yes." "Is that satisfactory to you, lieutenant?" "Nothing is satisfactory." "I can't tell what it is because..." "I don't know myself." "Here's all he had on him." "Keep that." "Well, I'm sorry to gum up the works." "But it wasn't an accident." "It's murder." "Murder, oy." "What a calamity." "How do you know?" "This is the bullet that killed him." "A 38 calibre, center fire." "All the guns the extras used were 45s." "And you can't fire a 38 bullet through a 45 gun." "It's an old Chinese principle." "Where did you get this?" "Out of the wall of the set." "Don't you know better than to meddle in police matters?" "Oh, I'm sorry." "I didn't mean to meddle." "I just wanted to help." "You see, I like to dabble a bit in murder cases." "Well you just go and dabble some place else." "All right." "Who is he?" "One of our scenario writers, Franklyn Drew." "Oh, writes detective stories, I suppose." "Yes." "How did you know?" "They always do." "Well, this makes a difference." "Looks like we've got a murder on our hands." "You go and get that assistant director." "That brilliant young man who said there were no other guns on this set." "Right." "Who is Marcia Lane?" "What?" "You don't know who is Marcia Lane?" "Over a million dollars we spend advertising her all over the nation." "She was on set just a minute ago." "Let's have a talk with her." "Howell, ask Miss Lane to come here." "Yes, sir." "Steiner and the detective want to see Miss Lane immediately." "Well, hurry." "I'm fluttering, sweetheart." "Bill." "Tell Miss Lane Steiner and the dick wanna see her." "Okay, chief." "Oh, Pete." "Rush Miss Lane over to Mr Steiner and the dick." "Now?" "No, next Tuesday, you sap." "Oh." "Come on, get going." "Oh, all right." "Pardon me, Miss Lane." "Mr Steiner and the dick wanna see you." "Thank you." "You're welcome." "What can they want with me?" "They just want to annoy you with a lot of routine questions." "They always question people like you first to give the guilty ones plenty of time to make up good alibis." "It's part of the system." "Been going on for years." "Sit down, Miss Lane." "Thank you." "I don't wish to be unpleasant but there are a few questions I'd like to ask you." "Certainly." "How long have you and Brent been separated?" "We were divorced last May." "Why?" "Well, I don't quite see..." "Divorce is a matter of record, lieutenant." "I don't think we have to go into that now." "Say, will you go up to your office and write "bad little boy" 500 times?" "When did you last quarrel with Myles Brent?" "I don't remember." "Didn't you love him?" "I wouldn't answer that, Marcia." "Say, just what is your interest in this case?" "Personally I don't care who killed Brent." "But I would like to know how it was done." "Besides that, I'm..." "I'm a friend of Miss Lane's." "Wasn't your name mentioned during the divorce proceedings?" "No." "Sorry to disappoint you." "What did you do with your gun, Miss Lane?" "My gun?" "Yes" "I didn't have a gun." "Didn't you use one in the picture?" "No." "But when you fired with the other..." "As a matter of fact if Miss Lane had fired she couldn't have hit him." "She was around on the other side of the set when the shooting took place." "If you don't lay off, I'm gonna take you downtown." "What for?" "How do I know what for?" "Good, I was beginning to be afraid you might say something sensible." "Hey!" "What are you trying to do there, huh?" "Don't move, now." "I got you surrounded." "Don't lie, now." "What did you try to hide there, huh?" "Why, nothing..." "We'll see about that." "Hold this..." "Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute." "No, you don't." "Yeah?" "Oh, yeah?" "This letter all ready to mail was found in Myles Brent's pocket." "In this letter he told his lawyer that Marcia Lane refused to sign a release as beneficiary of his life insurance policy." "So you stand to collect $200.000." "Miss Lane's lawyer wouldn't let her sign the release." "I know all about that." "It's too bad you weren't the one that was shot." "So that gives you a pretty nice motive." "No funny business, now." "Come on, keep moving." "Here's your man, chief." "I caught him red-handed." "He was trying to ditch this gun." "Look." "Look." "It's loaded too." "I tell you, I..." "Save your breath." "Put the braces on him, Owen." "Now ain't that astounding?" "Something told me to take a squint around." "I sees 'im trying to ditch his gun, see?" "And I puts two and two together, I says to my..." "I says to myself, that's the man." "I guess I used uncanny skill." "38 caliber and loaded." "It's the gun all right." "Who is this fellow?" "Name's Chalmers." "He was an extra on the set." "Why did you kill Brent?" "I never killed nobody." "You can't alibi yourself out of this." "That's the only 38 gun on the place." "You killed him." "Why?" "I tell you I didn't." "You gotta listen to me." "Shut up." "You'll have plenty of time to talk later on." "Do you know this man?" "Why, yes." "Everyone on the lot knows him." "He was head electrician for years." "How much did you pay him to kill Brent?" "Now wait a minute, lieutenant." "Why not pin the murder on the murderer?" "That's not against the rules." "What are you talking about?" "Chalmers didn't kill Brent." "How do you know?" "His gun hasn't been fired." "How did this gun come to be loaded?" "I loaded it for Brent." "I lost my nerve." "So you had planned to kill Brent, huh?" "Yes, I wanted to kill him." "I had every reason in the world to kill him." "But he made no attempt." "So you can't arrest him." "Not unless you want to make a fool of yourself." "You know, I'm beginning to think you're giving us the rash." "Prove it." "You're a detective." "Take them off, Gulliver." "And maybe we'll put them on him." "Well, we seem to be right back where we started." "Yes, perhaps you may have some very valuable suggestion." "Yes, I have." "What?" "The cameras were photographing when Brent was killed." "There might be something interesting on the film." "It wouldn't hurt to look." "Not bad." "How soon can we see the stuff?" "We could get a print in, say, three or four hours." "Can we get them going?" "Certainly." "Come, Mr Grossmith." "You take the name and address of every person on this set." "And warn them all about trying to leave town." "Right." "In any of your books, does the detective ever sock the novelist on the nose?" "No." "Write it in sometime." "Seems to me like a good idea." "Marcia." "Oh, Frank." "It won't be very pleasant to see it all over again." "But it may help us a lot if we look carefully." "Is everybody here?" "I think so, Mr Grossmith." "Mr Steiner is in the projection booth." "He'll be right in." "All right." "There he is now." "Are you ready, Mr Grossmith?" "Yes." "Mr Grossmith's ready." "Quiet, please." "Quiet." "All right, turn it over." "Rolling." "Mark it." "Action." "Can I get your car, sir?" "It'll be right here." "Thanks handsome." "I just couldn't pass you up." "Believe it or not, I've never seen her in my life before." "I must have been overlooking something." "Bloody shame, sir." "Most annoying." "Right under my very nose." "Your nose?" "I'll get the car, sir." "Lights!" "Turn on those lights!" "Not hurt badly, but he must have received a sharp blow." "Yeah, it looks like it was done with a blunt instrument." "You know, I had an uncle once who was knocked out the same way." "Only he got hit with a shovel." "Whoever rocked your cradle overdid it." "A rouge smeered cigarette butt started it off." "Can you tell me if that's studio makeup?" "Hard to say." "Perhaps we should call the makeup man to tell you." "Thanks." "How did it happen?" "I swear I don't know." "I was leaning over the machine checking the focus" "I thought the building came down on me." "How about another print?" "Yeah, but we'll take care of it this time." "There was something on." "And whoever cut it off didn't want it to be seen." "If we have the laboratory man provide a new one right away." "Could you, Mr Glossmith?" "Why, yes, there's no reason why we couldn't." "Will you come with me?" "No, Hillicker will go with you." "I have another angle." "Where do I find this makeup man?" "Makeup department." "Clear out in the other end of the lot, just at the end of F street." "Sounds like a sleeper jump." "Thanks." "It's a special panchromatic rouge of my own make." "Only two people on the lot are in the habit of using it." "Who are they?" "Miss Collins and Miss Lane." "Who's Miss Collins?" "She's one of our players." "Is she in this picture you're photographing?" "No, I believe she's working in The Night Riders and they're out on location." "And the only other person on the lot that uses this rouge is Marcia Lane?" "As far as I know." "I see." "Thanks." "You're welcome." "Wait a minute." "You have quite a stock of this rouge on hand, haven't you?" "A few tubes of it." "Just as I thought." "Anybody could get at it." "Not very well." "All the makeup that is not in use is kept in the cabinets." "And the cabinets are locked?" "Yes." "It's hidden." "Hello?" "Just a minute." "It's for you." "Hello." "Yes, Hillicker." "How?" "All right." "You stick around there and see what you can find out." "Tell Steiner I'll see him at his office." "The negative of that last scene has been ruined." "Someone poured acid in the container." "This thing gets more muddled every minute." "You're telling me?" "How do I get to Steiner's office?" "I'll show you." "Thanks." "And you're not going with me." "Right at the end of the street." "Right." "You ought to have a map of this place." "Oh, Lieutenant." "You know that anybody could have taken the rouge from Miss Lane's dressing room." "Sure." "A very interesting detail." "What do you make of it, Drew?" "Got me." "It's more of a mystery than anything I ever wrote." "What I can't undertsand is why anyone should want to murder Brent." "Not if it were a supervisor." "I don't see why anybody wants to murder anybody." "It's a silly idea." "You're going to try and solve it?" "Yes, why not?" "It would be fun." "Besides..." "Marcia?" "Yes." "Oh, say, Tom." "If you see her, don't say anything about that director." "It would only upset her." "No, no, no, of course not." "If I can help you, let me know." "Thanks." "Has anything been moved on the set?" "No." "Police instructions were to leave everything undisturbed." "Well I'm gonna have another look around." "I want to find out just how he was murdered." "And with what gun." "I got an idea how Brent was killed." "You wanna hear it?" "Some other time." "Better go home and sleep it off, Chalmers." "That's what you think." "Chalmers don't know anything, huh?" "But listen." "I've been on the set and I've been seeing things." "Yeah, snakes and pink elephants, I'll bet." "Yeah, all right, be smart, be smart." "Now listen, you're gonna come to me later." "I'll see you in the morning." "Go on home." "Poor boy." "All he does is cash his paycheck and drink it." "Wanna have a look around with me?" "No." "I'm not much of a detective." "Besides, Mrs Avery is waiting for me." "All right." "Good luck." "Thanks." "Go find Sheehan." "He's someplace on the lot." "Bring him here." "Mr Drew." "Mr Drew, what happened?" "What happened?" "Here, here." "Swell, ain't it?" "I made it myself." "Who's in there?" "It's all right, Sheehan." "I found the gun that killed Brent." "Where?" "Right here in this lamp." "Why, it's gone." "Probably got tired sitting there and decided to take a walk." "No, I'm not kidding." "I came down to the set to take a look around." "Just by accident I noticed this... this... smudge on the lamp here." "So I looked inside." "Found a small Derringer fastened there." "Attached to an electromagnet." "There's the wire it was connected to." "And I got a bump on my head that knocked me out." "This proves one thing." "Whoever killed Brent knew a lot about electricity." "Who's in charge of these lamps?" "The head gaffer." "What's that in English?" "The chief electrician." "Who is he?" "Al Payne." "Where can I find him?" "Tom will take you over." "Come here, kid, let me take a look at that head." "That's all right." "Now listen." "You stop monkeying around with police matters." "It's a tough racket." "That head of yours won't stand another wallop." "Come on, let's get going." "Mr Drew..." "I've been thinking." "No." "Yeah." "The first thing I ask myself when I investigate a murder is whodunit." "That sounds logical." "And the next thing I ask myself is who could do it." "And then?" "And then I ask myself again who wanted to do it." "And how do you answer yourself?" "Well..." "I ain't come to that yet." "You take Chalmers, for instance." "He didn't like Brent." "Why shouldn't he be an exception?" "He didn't like Brent on account of Brent had him fired." "When was this?" "A couple of months ago." "When Chalmers was head gaffer they had an argument." "Head gaffer." "Yeah, Chalmers is an electrician, isn't he?" "Yeah, Chalmers had a couple of drinks and him and Brent had an argument." "Say, Gully, you are a first-class gumshoe." "Investigator." "All right, investigator." "Right now, will you run up to the casting office investigate and find out where Chalmers lives?" "Sure, what are you gonna do?" "Put the finger..." "I mean apprehend him?" "Maybe." "You wanna come along?" "Oh, boy, I'll say." "Got your gun?" "Yep." "Got my gun, my badge..." "We'll need those." "Come on, let's get going." "The director hasn't anything to do with it." "The channel man really sets the lights." "You mean he tells you where to put the lights." "Yes." "When was this set lit?" "The afternoon before." "They rehearsed the scene with the principals so they wouldn't hold when they called the extras." "Do you remember anything particular about that one light?" "To be truthful with you, we had a lot of arguments on that set." "Mr Steiner didn't like the photography and he wanted more light." "Steiner?" "Was he there when it was rehearsed?" "Yes." "Who else?" "Well, they were all there with the exception of the extra people." "There were no extras there, huh?" "No, only Chalmers." "You know, he's a sort of a privileged character around this lot." "He used to be our head gaffer." "Chalmers used to be an electrician?" "Yes." "Miss Lane felt sorry for him and made Mr Avery give him a bit in her picture." "Oh, Miss Lane got him the job." "Yes." "Could you give me the address of the cameraman and Chalmers'?" "Sure." "And, by the way..." "If a writer by the name of Drew asks you anything don't answer him." "*** Well, you can't keep me from hoping." "This is it." "Look." "It's that Chalmers in trouble again." "Do you wish to see Mr Chalmers?" "Yes, is he in, Mrs..." "Miss Potts, and I don't know anything at all about his comings and goings." "Doesn't he answer the bell?" "No, he doesn't." "I was just going in." "It's cleaning day today, you know." "I suppose he's lying stiff and the place all clotted up with gin bottles." "Let's go in and have a look around, captain." "As a tenant, he wasn't so bad until he lost his job." "Then he started acting queerlike." "See, I told you." "I laid it all down to him." "I said, Mr Chalmers... my bungalow court isn't an alcoholic ward." "As I thought." "Drunk again." "Well, this is the end." "This is no key to cure." "Out he goes." "I'm sick and tired of his carryings on." "The fellow's dead." "Dead?" "Well, he didn't think of me, no not him." "I suppose my $28.50 back rent was all spent in booze." "Did I have Chalmers spotted." "All I did was ask myself whodunit." "Poison, all right." "Familiar smelling stuff too." "Boy, that guy would drink anything that wasn't too thick to chew." "Well, I guess this about washes up the case, huh, Mr Drew?" "Looks like suicide to you, eh, Gully?" "Sure." "I guess Sheehan would think so too." "He may be dumb, but he ain't blind." "He's not as dumb as he looks." "Do you wear a wristwatch, Gully?" "Huh?" "Do you wear a watch on your wrist?" "Well... you see, it's a present from the wife." "I gotta wear it." "Why do you wear it on your left wrist?" "Well, I use my right hand the most because I'm right-handed." "Did you ever try to write with it on you right wrist?" "No." "Neither did, Chalmers." "Which makes this note a very interesting piece of fiction." "Say, Gully." "Come here." "Take a look in here." "Now, what do you see?" "A bottle of gin and a piece of ice." "What else?" "Use your powers of observation." "Oh, you mean that piece of lettuce in there." "Don't you notice that little service door in the back has been left open?" "Whatever." "The icemen probably left it that way." "My wife says you can't trust those icemen anyway." "If the iceman had left that little door open when he put in the fresh cake there wouldn't be any ice there now." "Oh, I never thought of that." "Let's have a look outside." "Look." "Someone must have stood here a long time." "Them are fresh footprints, ain't they?" "Step up there a minute." "Look out for those tracks." "Now what?" "Look through the window." "Do you see Chalmers sitting there?" "Yeah." "The door's open." "Supposing someone stood here and doctored Chalmers' gin in the icebox on this side," "and then stood here and watched him drink his last drink." "Through the window, what would you say?" "And then watched him die." "Then wrote the note and put the pencil in his hand, huh?" "Yeah." "Only that's where he made his mistake." "Put the pencil in the wrong hand." "That's just what I was thinking." "Gully..." "You know, if a car was parked here." "It would entirely conceal that door and that window." "Yeah." "Then Chalmers didn't kill himself, huh?" "Let's leave that to Sheehan." "If I'm any good of a guesser, he ought to be here by now." "We found him tumbled over the table." "Dead, huh?" "Don't let Sheehan know what we found out." "I gotcha." "The captain got here 15 minutes ago." "Captain?" "What are you and that Keystone cop doing here?" "Now looky here, Sheehan, you can't talk that way about me." "Remember I'm chief of the studio police and I got rights." "I..." "I..." "Nature in the raw." "Here's another opportunity for your skill, Lieutenant." "We've been waiting for you," "Everybody around here seems to know more about police matters than the police." "That's noble of you to admit." "Did you two losers touch anything around here?" "Nothing important." "Good, then clear out." "And take that uniformed moron with you." "Come on." "Suicide, huh?" "Looks like it." "Well, I always thought it was Chalmers right from the start." "Now who's the Keystone cop?" "You don't even know Chalmers was left-handed." "Come on!" "Left-handed?" "Sure." "That starts it all over again." "I can remember when murders were nice, clean, simple things done with machine guns and meat axes." "But this case!" "Keep coming." "All right." "What seems to be the trouble?" "Battery's dead." "But didn't Miss Lane get a new battery just last week?" "Yeah, I don't understand it." "It's bone dry." "The liquid's all gone." "Just as I thought." "You were right." "Poison." "The electro... electrolytic *** 38%... distilled water 33%, electrolytic liquid 11% by volume the man said at least a spoonful would kill a man dead." "Electrolytic acid." "Did he say anything else?" "No, that was all." "Hey." "Ain't them the same kind of tread that left the marks under Chalmers' window?" "There's probably a thousand cars in Hollywood that have that make of tire." "Yeah, I never thought of that." "Say, Gully." "I want you to get me the key to Brent's dressing room." "But don't anybody know it's for me." "Say, I'll get you the key to the city if you want it." "I have a couple of things to do." "I'll meet you here in half an hour." "Okay." "Who is it?" "Frank, may I come in?" "Just a minute." "Why all the locks?" "I was just going through some old letters and didn't want to be disturbed." "Oh, I see." "Where have you been?" "I've been waiting all afternoon for you." "Oh, I've just been doing a little sleuthing." "Marcia, you trust me, don't you?" "Why, yes, of course." "You know I'd do anything in the world for you, don't you?" "I believe you would, dear." "Then... is there anything you know about the murder of Brent that you haven't told me?" "No." "I've just come from Chalmers' place." "He's dead." "Chalmers?" "Poisoned." "You mean murdered?" "If it isn't that, it's a good imitation on it." "Oh, how awful." "Whoever did it used electrolytic acid." "Acid out of a battery." "The unfortunate part of the whole thing is that... they used your car and the acid out of your battery." "My car?" "That's why my car wouldn't start." "Yes." "I only told you this because I'm afraid." "Sheehan will find out and arrest you on suspicion." "That would mean headlines and scandal." "What do you want me to do?" "I want you to get out of here." "Any place, just so Sheehan can't find you." "But that's running away." "Only for a day or two." "Just to give me time." "I'll go to Mary's at Malibu." "She'll help me." "That's swell." "Make it fast, will you?" "There's no knowing how close Sheehan is behind me." "I'll telephone you when I have it all worked out." "You may have a long beard by then, but I'll try and hurry." "Bye-bye, sweet." "Come in." "Leon." "I suppose you're surprised that I'm here, huh, Marcia?" "Frankly, yes." "You haven't come to see me since... since Brent's accident." "I should think you'd know why." "I don't." "I only know that I... that I want to help you." "I have all the help I need." "Marcia, you mustn't treat me like this." "I never said anything to you while Brent was alive." "But you should know how I feel." "You've succeeded in making your feelings quite plain enough." "Marcia, I..." "I'm very fond of you." "Not the kind of fondness I care about." "Please go now, Leon." "I'm in rather a hurry." "Marcia." "Maybe some day you will come to me and ask for help." "Maybe you will apologize to me for laughing about how I feel for you." "Perhaps Brent wasn't killed for nothing." "No matter how smart they are they always slip up." "What's your name?" "Pardon me." "Hello?" "Yes, sir, I will." "Oh, wait a minute." "Here she is now." "Miss Lane." "Mr Steiner would like to see you in his office." "Thank you." "What's your name?" "Mr Wheatcroft." "Mr Todd, please." "Mr Wheatcroft calling to see you." "All right, thank you." "Pull down that blind." "Did you see Brent when he came in?" "I see everybody." "What kind of a suit did he have on?" "There it is." "Funny Sheehan missed looking in here." "You've been keeping him too busy." "See what those letters are." "Here's one from a dame named Agnes." "Agnes who?" "She ain't that dumb." "She don't say much." "Except that uh... she can't live without him." "Married, too." "Says her husband don't understand her." "Well, it's that old, old story." "Two men and a woman." "The internal triangle." "What kind of place is the Cliffside Inn?" "You know, one of those weekend places with all the Mr Smiths, and Mr Jones, and Mr Browns." "How far is Ocean View from here?" "Why?" "I'm beginning to think there's a woman in the case." "No..." "Mr Drew, this case is becoming complicated." "Even for me." "Come on." "Gee, it's 4:30." "I gotta check in." "Listen." "Don't go away without me, will you?" "All right, Gully." "I'll pick you up at the gate on my way out." "Mr Drew, I've been looking for you." "Miss Lane wants to see you." "She's in Mr Steiner's office." "Thanks." "Yes, sir." "Go right in, Mr Drew." "When did you find out your car wouldn't start?" "About an hour ago." "Well, with all your dabbling you didn't throw us off." "You've thrown yourself off if you think Miss Lane had anything to do with Chalmers or Brent either." "All right, all right, just sit down there." "And keep quiet." "Where did you go this afternoon?" "I went downtown." "In your car?" "Yes." "Where did you park it?" "On the street." "In front of Ellsmith's flower shop." "I ordered some flowers for Myles..." "Mr Brent's funeral." "Then where did you go?" "You went to Chalmers' house, didn't you?" "Wait a minute, I won't stand for this." "You can't trick Miss Lane into answers." "And have little boy blue over there take them down." "Now keep quiet, Drew." "We're trying to get to the bottom of this." "Oh, no, you're not." "Sheehan is trying to force Miss Lane into admission of things she's never done." "She might as well talk here as downtown." "I've got a warrant for her." "For what?" "Suspicion of murder." "What's your theory?" "It's as simple as ABC." "It would be if you thought of it." "Chalmers killed Brent because he hated him and she offered him money." "Then she got frightened and killed Chalmers thinking that he would get drunk and give it away." "Every piece of evidence we've got points to her." "It was her cigarette that blew the film, her car that made the tracks outside Chalmers' house, and acid from her battery that killed him." "Oh, that's a lot of bunk." "I know." "You've got to make an arrest." "It's okay with you." "Steiner, you can't sit there and... let them arrest Marcia." "She has nothing more to do with these murders than Lincoln had to do with the burning of Rome." "Mr Drew, we don't know whether Lincoln burned Rome or not." "And we don't care." "But this man is a policeman, so let us hear what he has to say." "We are not paying you to quarrel with the police." "I don't care if you pay me a dime." "Sheehan, if you arrest Miss Lane now there'll be a lot of nasty newspaper headlines." "Hold out for another 24 hours and I'll be responsible." "Better than that, I'll prove she's innocent." "You're making yourself ridiculous." "I'm trying to protect one of your stars." "Wait a minute, Steiner." "Maybe he's right." "What about this scandal?" "What about her box-office name?" "Haven't we got enough trouble here already without having Marcia arrested?" "Mr Grossmith, if you want to accept the responsibility, you can." "But remember..." "This is a murder case." "Two people are dead." "And how do you know someone else won't be killed?" "For my part, I believe that the police should not be interfered with." "Well, all I gotta say is that it's..." "a terrible calamity." "Let's go, Hillicker." "I guess the explosion's over." "Someone in this studio killed Myles Brent and Chalmers." "And he's trying to pin it on Marcia Lane." "But they won't get away with it." "Come on, Miss Lane." "Marcia." "Honey." "I'm sorry." "But I'll get you out of this as soon as I can." "I know you will, Frank." "I'm not worried, really." "Come on." "Special issue!" "Read all about it... here." "Hollywood mystery." "Marcia Lane accused of studio murder." "Extra!" "Read all about it." "How do you do, sir?" "How do you do?" "I'm from the publicity office at the Tonart Studio." "Yes?" "I'd like to see a list of the people who sent flowers to the Brent funeral." "Oh, I think I have a list." "Thanks." "Terrible thing that Brent murder, wasn't it?" "I hear they're investigating Marcia Lane." "Yes, I guess she'll be one who won't send flowers." "Yes, she will." "She was here early this afternoon and ordered a big wreath." "Is that so?" "Here you are." "Mostly women." "It's surprising many of them gave their names." "Oh, some of them didn't." "There was a lady here just now who signed a check then thought better of it and threw it out." "Didn't want the husband to see the cancelled check." "Perhaps." "Oh, pardon me." "Yes, madam?" "Do you have any gardenias?" "Certainly." "Oh, good evening." "Alone?" "Yes, I'm not stopping." "Oh." "I have a key here a friend of mine carried away with him." "Oh, thank you." "My name is Drew." "I'm from the Tonart Studios." "I'd like to keep this thing quiet." "Keep what quiet?" "Brent's visit here the night before he was murdered." "You see, if the papers get hold of a story like this they'll play it up and it's bad for the picture business." "Well, it doesn't do us any good either." "All right, let's get together." "Sure, what do you want?" "Who was the woman with Brent?" "Mrs Brent." "There is no Mrs Brent." "They were divorced." "Well, then I don't know who she is." "You see, I wasn't here when they checked in and they left in such a hurry I didn't see them go out." "In a hurry?" "Why?" "Well, a fellow came in here and started a row." "Then he waited in that telephone booth over there and they came down and he stepped out." "At least that's what Charly says." "Who's Charly?" "One of the night bellhops." "Could I see him?" "Sure." "Oh, Charly." "Yes, sir." "This gentleman wants to ask you a few questions." "Shoot." "Do you remember seeing the man who waited for Myles Brent in the telephone booth the other night?" "I just got a glimpse of him before the fight." "What fight?" "When Brent hit him in the patio." "How did it happen?" "The lady ran out to the car when she saw the guy came out of the booth." "Then the guy steps up to Mr Brent and says:" "Brent, I wanna see you." "I thought it sounded kinda silly because he was seeing him right there." "Then what happened?" "Brent takes the guy outside in the patio." "That's when he socked him." "Then did Brent get into his car?" "Yeah." "And the other guy picked himself up." "Boy, was he mad." "And was his face red." "What did he say?" "What didn't he say." "Listen." "It was awful." "And then he beats it." "Would you remember this man if you saw him again?" "Well, I might." "And then again, I might not." "It all happened so fast." "Would you remember the lady?" "Sure." "Say, she was a honey." "She talked kind of funny." "Like she was a foreigner, or something." "With an accent?" "Yeah." "That's fine, Charly." "You've been a great help to me." "Here." "Thanks." "Good night, and thanks." "Say, are you a detective?" "No, I'm just from the studio." "Will there be detectives here?" "I hope not." "Call for Mr Wallace." "Calling Mr Wallace." "Which booth did that fellow hide in?" "There." "How long has it been out of order?" "Just since the guy hid in there." "I guess he kept pounding on the hook." "Shelf, shelf, that's all you can think about, shelf." "Already this picture cost me $239.351." "Better I put my money in the bank." "Can I get any interest from a shelf?" "I'm not asking you to do anything." "But how can we finish the picture without print?" "I told you 17 times that we can use a double." "And play the whole kissing scene in a longshot?" "Why not?" "Because it's all wrong." "It's terrible." "I've got my reputation to think of." "And I've got my money to think of." "Money, money." "What's money?" "Now, just a minute." "Let's take it calmly." "The New York office is of the opinion that the murder of Brent won't hurt the picture." "If we can release it soon enough." "So why not shoot that scene with a double and wind it up?" "It's the last scene in the picture." "It can't possibly do you any harm." "Exactly, Steiner's quite right." "Oh, all right." "What's the use of arguing with him?" "Good." "We can get the company together and shoot it tonight." "Wait a minute." "What about Marcia?" "Oh, we can arrange with Sheehan to use her for that one scene." "She can come over with the whole police department if he likes." "Everybody is on call, everything on the set is standing." "They can shoot it in half an hour." "Todd." "Oh, hold on a minute." "What time?" "Seven thirty... say nine thirty." "Make it nine o'clock." "We'll save a half hour." "Todd, we are going to shoot the last scene of The Death Kiss tonight." "Round up the company for a nine o'clock call." "Sure, Mr Steiner." "Max, we're retaking The Death Kiss." "Get busy on the call." "Okay." "You have Brent's double on call, haven't you?" "Yes, I'll have him all right." "But, say, what about Miss Lane?" "I'll take care of her." "Hey, Mac, put that light over on the roof." "Screen 80, Joe." "Good evening." "You know Mrs Avery?" "Yes, of course." "How are you?" "How do you do?" "I'm surprised you've come to see the retake." "Put it down to morbid curiosity." "That's the woman of it." "She insisted on coming." "Well, come along with me." "I'll have Howell make you comfortable." "He's very good with the ladies." "Put that light high." "Put it up." "We'll do it the same way." "You two girls in the back." "On the left." "Watch out." "Gulliver." "Yes, Miss Lane." "Do you know where Mr Drew is?" "He went away and left me after he promised he wouldn't." "Do you know where he went?" "I got an idea, but I can't tell." "Do you know when he'll be back?" "I don't know." "He'll turn up." "You can't lose that guy." "We're ready for rehearsal, Miss Lane." "All right, thank you." "Go ahead." "We'll wait here." "Thank you." "And just as you reach here, Miss Lane steps up and kisses you." "And much to your surprise, because you don't know her." "Then you turn, read your line to the doorman and walk out to the kerb." "Right." "Alas, I'm so sorry about it." "I know it's going to be difficult for you, but I'll try and help you all I can." "Thank you, Tom." "Oh, do you know Mr Johnson?" "Yes, how do you do?" "Shall we try it once?" "Oh, George, let's have quiet, please." "Quiet." "Rehearsal." "Take your places, please." "Hit them on." "Everyone ready for rehearsal?" "Okay." "Camera." "This business gives me a funny feeling." "What do you mean?" "I don't know." "Just gives me a funny feeling, that's all." "Supposing it should happen somebody else gets shot?" "That's ridiculous." "Well, maybe it is, maybe it ain't." "Anyway, I don't like the set and I don't like the title of the picture." "The Death Kiss, ugh." "From now on we have no more titles with death in it." "Getting superstitious?" "Say, you ain't got no nerves." "I ain't afraid either." "I'm just a little scared, that's all." "What can possibly happen?" "That's it." "Anything." "I must have been overlooking something." "A bloody shame, sir." "Most annoying." "Right under me very nose." "Wait a minute." "What's the matter now?" "I can't get it with the mike there." "Well, go ahead and fix it the way you want it." "Swing it in here farther." "Come on, farther." "Now down a little closer." "There." "Is that in your picture?" "No, it's in place there." "Okay." "Test it." "One, two, three, four." "One, two, three, four." "Microphone number two." "All right, let's go." "Okay for sound." "Oh, Lieutenant." "Can I see you a minute?" "Well, if it isn't our little mystery writer." "I knew you'd turn up." "Have you solved it?" "Come over here a minute." "What's the revelation?" "I went through the clothes that Brent wore the night he was murdered." "I found a room key to the Cliffside Inn in his pocket." "I went up to the Inn and found that he'd registered there the night before as Mr and Mrs Brent." "Not unusual for him, was it?" "No, but the husband of the woman that was with him waited for Brent in the telephone booth in the lobby." "When Brent came down they had a fight." "Brent beat him up and left with the woman." "Now there's your motive." "The fellow who hid in the telephone booth is the fellow who murdered Brent." "It's a motive, sure." "But it seems to me that everyone around here had a motive." "Yes, but the same man knew a lot about electricity and a lot about film." "Now, Chalmers couldn't have thrown that cigarette butt in the film because he was nowhere around at the time." "Marcia couldn't have poured acid on the negative." "She knows less about film than you do." "But the same fellow, whoever it was, found out that Chalmers had discovered his contraption in the lamp." "Stole Marcia's car, took acid again, doctored Chalmers' gin, and then returned the car." "But why did he take Miss Lane's car?" "To give himself a double headed out." "If you believed that suicide gag, it would be the end of it." "If you didn't, everything pointed to Marcia." "Whatever happened, he wouldn't be suspected." "Yeah." "But you have got to show me that the guy who is at the end is someone here at the studio." "And that he had access to the light, the film, the car and everything else." "That's easy." "The man who hid in the telephone booth left his trademark." "What's this?" "Well, you know as well as I do." "Scribblings a man makes on a piece of paper are as identifying as a signature." "Oh, now all we've got to do is to find the guy that scribbled like this, huh?" "I've done that too." "Take a look at this." "Where did you get this?" "In Grossmith's office." "Now, Avery, Steiner, Grossmith and Howell were in there having a conference." "And you think one of those four killed Brent?" "Yes?" "This is interesting." "But I've only your word for it and that don't count for much." "Well, I'll keep your paper dolls." "But you've got to get me more substantial evidence than this before I can let Miss Lane go." "Take good care of these guns, boys, and don't forget to check them back to me." "Thank you." "Sure the gun isn't loaded?" "You bet not." "I just looked." "Mind if I look?" "Not at all." "Is that clear to you?" "All right, we'll take it." "Is everybody ready?" "Let's make it." "Johnson, powder up, will you, please?" "Sure." "Thanks." "You're welcome." "Frank." "I've been so worried about you." "Darling, I'm hot on the trail." "I've got an idea." "If I'm right, I'll have this whole thing wrapped up and tied before you know it." "But don't go away before I'm through, will you?" "You bet I won't." "Miss Lane, will you stand in a minute, please?" "See you later." "It isn't loaded, is it?" "What do you think, I'm crazy?" "Mind if I look?" "No, go ahead." "Thanks." "Say, Bill, those aren't the same guns you used before, are they?" "I know." "I couldn't get 38s before so I slipped in the 45s." "Nobody knew the difference." "You mean 38s were called for before?" "Yeah, we made a row about it." "Who insisted?" "Okay, coming up!" "Come on with me." "Listen." "I've got it." "This is Bill, the property man." "He tells me on the day that Brent was murdered he was definitely ordered to give all the extras 38 caliber guns." "Yeah?" "Did you get it?" "38 caliber guns were ordered." "Now, if Bill had supplied them, we would never have known that it wasn't an accident." "But he didn't." "He had to use 45s." "That's how he knew it was a murder." "Now, the fellow who ordered those 38s..." "Say, who ordered those guns?" "Go ahead, Bill, tell him." "Well, it was Mr..." "Turn those lights on!" "Lights." "Give me a light." "Here you are, Sheehan." "There he is." "There he goes." "Up there." "Come on, he went this way." "No, there he is." "Come on." "There he goes." "Stand where you are or I'll shoot." "Avery." "Mr Avery!" "He's the that who ordered the guns." "Yeah, and like a fool I told you about him under the microphone." "He was listening in with the earphones." "So it was him." "Don't look at him now." "He's dead." "He's dead." "Yes, I am glad." "The woman at the Cliffside Inn, huh?" "You stay here, Hillicker, Come on." "Come with me." "I got him." "I got him." "There's your man." "Who is he?" "You'll suffer for this." "You despicable cad." "So, you're a policeman, eh?" "Pardon me." "I think I owe apologies, Miss Lane." "And to you too." "I'm sorry I was unpleasant." "You know, at first I could have sworn it was you." "I knew it and it made me quite angry." "But you're much more clever than I gave you credit for." "Well, that sounds like a new contract." "We'll talk about that later." "Oh, Lieutenant..." "Would you mind telling me why it is that detectives always wear their hats even in the presence of ladies?" "Sure." "That's so we won't have anything in our hands or arms in case we have to use them." "That's one for the book." "Do you mind if I write it in right now?"