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Lost Command CD1

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I suppose it's fair to say|infidelity made me what I am today.
I know lots of investigators|won't handle divorce cases.
The truth is, not that many guys|are good at matrimonial work.
It takes finesse and experience.
Hell, everybody makes mistakes.|But if you marry one,
they expect you to pay for it|for the rest of your life.
I don't care whose fault it is,|his, hers or the milkman's.
If one of them comes to me,|it means they're both miserable,
and that's my job,|putting people out of their misery.
Oh, no!
No, Kitty. How could you?
You said you were going to|the beauty parlour in Hollywood,
and now I find you here|where they said I'd find you,
in room 19-H of the...
Bird of Paradise Motel.
...of the Bird of Paradise Motel|in Redondo Beach,
at two in the afternoon on|October 27th, 1948, with this man.
Mr Berman, it's unnatural|to discuss what year it is
when you're staring at your wife|in bed with another man.
My lawyer said to be very specific...
We'll establish the date. Just...
It's an earthquake.
- Relax.|- Mr Gittes? Did you feel that?
Yes, Gladys, we felt it.|Everybody all right?
- Right.|- Are we OK?
Relax, Mr Berman.|It's just a temblor.
A trembler?
A temblor.|I know how edgy you must be, Julius.
- My friends call me Jake.|- That makes two of us.
- That's what my friends call me.|- Is that right? Is that right?
He's a Jake and I'm a Jake.
Yeah. How about that?|Two Jakes. Now, listen, Jake.
I never lost a husband yet,|but I got a golf date at one o'clock.
If I'm not ready to tee off at 12:55,|they'll break every club in my bag.
You're kidding. That's terrible.
The Wilshire Country Club.|I'm lucky they let me join.
I know what you mean.
Please, Mr Berm...|Jake... Go ahead.
No, Kitty, how could you? You said|you were going to the beauty parlour,
and now I find you here,|where they said I'd find you,
in room 19-H of the Bird of Paradise|Motel in Redondo Beach,
at two in the afternoon|with this man.
- Kitty, how could you?|- What's going on?
You said were going|to the beauty parlour...
What will this prove?
...room 19-H of the Bird of Paradise|Motel in Redondo Beach, with him!
How could you, Kitty?|How could you?!
With him?! Not with him!|Not with him! Not with him!
Get her out of here!
Damn!
What the fuck... hey!|What the fuck...?
- Damn!|- Just calm down, ma'am.
Where'd that gun come from?
Somebody call an ambulance!
Come on. Get pictures|of everything, Larry.
Most cops' ethics are|a little like the cars they drive.
Black and white.|Lou Escobar is different.
I did my share of fighting|in the war and even got a medal,
but Lou lost a leg with|the first Marines at Guadalcanal.
He knows about regrets and how life|doesn't give you a fair shake.
You can't trust a guy|who's never lost anything.
How's that, Lou?
Your client shot a guy|right out of the saddle.
I never had anything like that|happen before,
not with me in the room, anyway.|See you, Lou.
You witnessed it.
I was next door.|By the time I got in the room,
Berman had him trapped in the john.|He fired two shots through the door.
- Maybe they struggled over the gun.|- I'm sure they did.
Why are you so sure,|if the door was closed?
You're right, Lou.
Maybe the guy shot himself three|times and gave Berman the gun...
- Jake, walk me to Homicide.|- I just came from there, Lou.
I got an appointment at eight o'clock|at Perino's with Linda.
I'll give you an escort. Where|did Berman get hold of the gun?
- In the bedroom.|- In the bedroom.
How do you know|he didn't have the gun?
I'd never frisk him|before I let him walk in on his wife
while some guy was slamming her|into the wall...
Just asking you, Jake.
Berman got the gun from somewhere|in the motel room and fired it.
- Somewhere in the motel room?|- That's absolutely all I know.
Then what happened?
What usually happens|when somebody pulls a gun.
Everybody ducks.
I guess you talked|to the investigating officer
Detective Loach.
I just came on duty, Lou.
Now, this is not a case where|I want any difficulty for anybody.
It's simple. A guy gets fucked|getting fucked. Let's not get cute.
Haven't seen you in a while, Jake.
I never seem to get away|from my desk.
Makes me wonder|if I should've made Captain.
For your 20th year,|I'll get you a pillow for your chair,
something you can|sit on besides Loach.
Jake, there's a call for you.
This is Homicide.|It ain't your office. Let it ring.
You're not lost, are you, Gittes?|You know the way out.
Jesus, don't go.|You're just the man I want to see.
I can't. I got asked to leave.
- Is that true?|- Yes, Mr Weinberger.
- Answer the phone, please.|- Get the phone.
Homicide. Lieutenant Loach,|it's... for him. His office again.
Take your call.
He's been disruptive, Mr Weinberger.
Disrupting Homicide is not all bad.|So, we have sheets, blankets,
one shower curtain|with broken rings attached, toupee...
And I do need to speak with Mr Gittes|about our client.
- Our client?|- I'm counsel for Jake Berman.
We have one...|two-inch Smith & Wesson revolver
registered in the name|of the dead man, Mark Bodine,
on behalf of B & B Homes.
No wire recording|on the police report?
His men didn't pick one up.|What's B & B Homes?
You're not thinking, Jake.|B & B Homes. Bodine & Berman.
It's another of their corporations,|Berman's and the dead man's.
Just remember,|you have a fiduciary relationship
with our client, Mr Berman.|We'll talk about it later.
I'll be in my office.
Can I use your phone?
Cotton was right.|We should have turned up B & B Homes.
Maybe Berman's partner|would still be chasing his wife
instead of cooling his dick|at the County Morgue.
So my client didn't level with me.|Not exactly news.
Cotton only tells one side|of the story in court.
Escobar knows I don't|tell him everything.
And when husbands and wives|lie to each other,
one of them comes to my office|and lies to me.
If I waited for an honest client,|I'd be sitting around
until Rocky Graziano played|Rachmaninoff at the Hollywood Bowl.
- Lucy, what's going on?|- I don't know, Mr Gittes.
I wouldn't go in there if I was you.
What are you doing to that woman?|Let go this instant!
- Ralph!|- Oh, my God! Don't you touch me!
My goodness.|I'm terribly, terribly sorry.
- I know how difficult this must be.|- Yeah.
- It must hurt you so.|- Yes, it does.
Everything will be fine.|Just rest for a moment.
See? All right.
Scotch.
All right. Who the fuck is that?
- Mark Bodine's widow.|- Who?
The wife of the guy Jake Berman shot.
Yeah.
- She knows you were there.|- So what? So was Mrs Berman.
Why isn't she breaking her house up?|It'd be more appropriate.
She wants to talk to you.
You're a war hero.|You may be slick as a floorwalker,
but you and that little kike killed|my husband, you son of a bitch!
Get my lawyer on the phone.
They're not gonna|get away with this.
If you were there, you would've|known that when Mr Berman
saw Mrs Berman in bed with your|husband, he lost his head.
That prick never lost his head|or his first nickel. Not only that...
- Get me a handkerchief.|...there's Kitty Berman.
She's a cold-hearted, frigid bitch.|She and Jake were in this together.
In what together?
Jake and Kitty Berman|killed my husband and you helped.
What the hell. I'm going home now|to call the newspapers.
It would be highly irresponsible|of me to allow you to do that.
- Give me one good reason.|- I'll give you two.
You can't walk|and you shouldn't drive.
All right.
Ralph, don't just stand there,|call the lady a cab.
My God.|She just walked right into it.
- Get her out of here.|- That's kidnapping.
Not if you take her home. Walsh!
Get the wire recorder out of the car,
and don't leave evidence|laying around like that.
Larry? Why didn't you tell me that|Berman and Bodine were partners?
- He just gave us B & B Homes.|- Yeah, sure.
Look. When you get her back there,
take her in through the window|or the side door.
Stay till she sobers up. Papers'll be|jumping all over the lawn like flies.
- Like the song says, till then.|- Yeah, sure.
Your tuxedo is laid out|and your private phone line is on.
- Thank you, Gladys. Good night.|- Good night.
Bird of Paradise Motel,|October 27, 1948, 1300 hours.
I'm based in bedroom one...|OK, Ralph... on the bed?
- Mayday. Bail out.|- What's wrong?
Some linen supply guys are making|a delivery right outside your door.
They're making a delivery...
- Yeah?|- Hi, kid. Got the wire recording?
- Right here. You want to hear it?|- Yeah.
Kitty, how could you?
You said you were going to|the beauty parlour in Hollywood...
Jake, for Christ's sake,|are you there? Are you OK, Jake?
Yeah, I'm fine.
Hang up and put|the recording back in the safe.
I can't do that, Cotton.|When the power comes back on,
it'll trigger the alarm|for 40 blocks,
and I'll have|the LAPD all over my ass.
Stay till the power's on and|put the recording back in the safe.
I just want to go|over it before the police do.
- Is that it?|- We've done business many years.
And we'll keep doing business
so long as you protect|your client and mine, Jake Berman.
- Cotton.|- What?
Thank you. Fuck you.
Thank you, Jake.|Always a pleasure doing business.
Honey.
Kitty, there's a... woman
who can give "akey" a bad time,|and you know who.
Honey, I think you do know. We're|talking about Katherine Mulwray.
Mark, not again.
Kitty, Katherine Mulwray can give|Jake a real bad time.
I'm telling you, she retains|rights to the subdivision,
and if I can get to her I can prove|Jake has taken advantage of the land.
- We could all strike it rich.|- Just hold me. Hold me.
Just help talk Jake into...
Kitty, there's a... woman
who can give "akey" a bad time,|and you know who.
Honey, I think you do know. We're|talking about Katherine Mulwray.
Mark, not again.
Kitty, Katherine Mulwray can give|Jake a real bad time.
I'm telling you, she|retains rights to the subdivision,
and if I can get to her I can prove|Jake has taken advantage of the land.
We could all strike it rich.
I've spent half the night|at Perino's waiting for you.
- My God. Linda.|- What have you been doing?
- Nothing. Just an emergency.|- A nothing emergency?
That I'd like to hear about sometime.|Maybe you'll tell me in another life.
- What are you talking about?|- No, Kitty. How could you?
You said you were going to|the beauty parlour in Hollywood...
What'll this prove?
...in room 19-H of the Bird of|Paradise Motel in Redondo Beach!
Hello, darling. I'll be right there.
I can explain everything.|Are you at Perino's?
Would I be answering my own phone|if I were? You jackass.
Honey, I'm so sorry.|I'll be right there.
- You and that little son of a bitch.|- Who is this?
You're going to pay for this,|you Irish dick!
- Where is she?|- Upstairs in bed.
- She's fine. Ralph's with her.|- Ralph? Jesus Christ.
All right, Mrs Bodine.|What did you take?
It's enough to make you wanna skeeve.
All right. Let me have this.
Come here.
- We'll do this sunny side up.|- You bastard!
- Call the doctor.|- You sleazy lowlife.
Hers, if you can find the number.
I'm going to rip|your face off, you son of a bitch!
That's all right, honey.|Don't worry about a thing.
I'm going to make sure|you don't even get your hair wet.
That's right.
Chuck Newty, Mr Gittes.|Mr And Mrs Bodine's attorney.
- Come on, Minnie.|- How are you?
Mr Walsh indicates you've been trying|to keep Mrs Bodine from the press.
That's fine.|I have no quarrel with that.
At least until the courts|arrive at some criminal charges,
then, of course,|there'll be civil actions.
- Civil actions?|- Mrs Bodine is not only widowed,
but she's been left out in the cold|financially as well.
Chuck.
Mr Bodine and Mr Berman did business|with a San Fernando subdivision,
but it was not an association|either man trusted.
In the event of|either partner's death,
all liabilities are to be assumed|by the surviving partner,
but, of course, all profits, as well.
Therefore, when Mr Berman|shot and killed Mr Bodine,
we could be talking about a man|who exploited his wife's infidelity
to the tune of a $6 million profit,
and used you, however|unwittingly, as an accomplice.
- Chuck, did you hear me?|- Excuse me a moment.
- Who's that?|- Mattie Rawley.
- She's from Pasadena.|- So is General Patton.
All right. Fine.
- Here. Keep them.|- Thanks.
What I do for a living may not be|very reputable, but I am.
In this town, I'm the leper|with the most fingers.
No court's going|to view me as an accomplice.
Probably not.
Mr Berman will undoubtedly plead|temporary insanity.
And if he's successful,|you'll be sued
for allowing a crazy man to see|his wife in another man's arms.
On the other hand,|if there's evidence of premeditation
in the killing of Mr Bodine,|Berman's not crazy,
Mrs Bodine gets to keep|her husband's money,
and she would have no need to sue|you at all, quite the contrary.
Let's keep in touch, Mr Gittes.
Does that mean he wants you to prove|your own client is guilty of murder?
- Yeah.|- Is that ethical?
Larry, he's a lawyer.
Jesus!
Bodine mentioned Evelyn Mulwray's|daughter on the wire recording.
He did? What did he say?
Just her name. I couldn't hear.|Right before Berman shot him.
That doesn't mean anything.|It could have been just gossip.
Coulda.
See the Pontiac|auto show at your dealer now.
Pontiac. Fine car.
Time changes things.
Like the fruit stand|that turns into a filling station.
But the footprints and signs|from the past are everywhere.
They've been fighting over this land|since the first Spanish missionaries
showed the Indians the benefits|of religion, horses,
and a few years of forced labour.
The Indians had it right all along.|They respected ghosts.
You can't forget the past|any more than you can change it.
Hearing Katherine Mulwray's name|started me thinking about
old secrets, family, property,|and a guy doing his partner dirt.
Memories are like that -|as unpredictable as nitro,
and you never know|what's gonna set one off.
The clues that keep you on track|are never where you look for them.
They fall out of the pocket
of somebody else's suit|you pick up at the cleaners.
In the tune you can't stop humming,|that you never heard in your life.
They're at the wrong number you dial|in the middle of the night.
The signs are in|those old familiar places
you only think|you've never been before.
But you get used to seeing them|out of the corner of your eye,
and you end up tripping over the ones|that are right in front of you.
I should have been wise to Berman's|hand-wringing act from the beginning.
It was as plain|as the shoes on his feet.
What do you call four|drowning Mexicans? Quattro sinko.
You know who Lou Escobar is?
Yeah. He's Captain of Detectives|in Homicide.
You know you turned|his sister down for a house?
- Had to be done.|- Had to be done?
Folks, here is Eucalyptus Place.|And there is 17.
- With you in a moment.|- OK, no problem.
I'm sure you're gonna love|living in El Rancho San Fernando.
- We sure are.|- Thank you.
You know who else|couldn't buy a house here? Me.
I can build it and I can sell it,|as long as I don't move in next door.
They don't want Mexicans|or Jews around.
Let me tell you something else.|The customer is always right.
- I got a wife to protect.|- Protect? Don't you mean divorce?
Yeah. That, too.
Your wife is a|possible accessory in this.
- To what?|- Come on.
You pick the one time you can|murder a man and make him pay for it?
- One way or the other, she helped.|- Stay away from my wife, or else.
I recognise that as a valid threat|coming from you,
but the police will think|the same thing -
you murdered your partner|for his half of the subdivision
and $5 or $6 million to which you and|your wife are now legally entitled.
Ty, what's the problem?|Tyrone Otley, JJ Gittes.
I know Mr Gittes from the DWP|when I worked for Hollis Mulwray.
It's the same problem.|These earthquakes are shaking up
our water wells like soda pop.|Only it's not soda pop.
Millions of gallons of water|and gas under these homes.
It's getting hazardous.
- What do you mean, hazardous?|- Could explode.
You said it was marsh gas. I thought|only natural gas was explosive.
Mr Berman, whether it comes from|an old marsh or baked beans,
all gas is natural. Gas is gas.
- How do I get rid of it?|- Call the gas company.
- You all right?|- Yeah.
How am I going to...
build homes with the gas company|drilling holes in the ground?
Where were we?
I was accusing you of murder,|Mr Berman.
Call me Jake. Which way's your car?|I'll walk you to it.
So, Jake...
Why all this nervous Nelly horseshit|you gave me in my office?
I'm telling you,|I was genuinely nervous.
It's upsetting when your wife's|involved with a strange man.
You didn't know it was your partner?
How should I know? You didn't.
If it was my partner and my wife,|I would've known.
That's your business. I'm not|complaining. You did your job.
Somebody out there?
- Funny thing about land.|- What do you mean?
I used to know the people|that owned this. Did you?
No.
How you gonna plead|at the preliminary hearing?
That's Cotton's job.
You think you'll get away with this?
I'm not getting away|with a thing, Jake.
Tell you what I'm gonna do.
You guarantee Mark Bodine's widow her|husband's share of the subdivision
so I don't worry about the police,|and you won't worry about me.
Otherwise, I'll prove that|you deliberately murdered the man.
You know something, Jake?
You might think you know what's|going on around here but... you don't.
You might think you know...
How long have you been here?
Jake, you'd better lie back.|The doctor's on his way.
Not long.
- You ever been here before?|- What difference does that make?
- Yes.|- Me, too.
Really?
This used to be all orange groves.
Walnut groves, too.
- How did you say you got this land?|- Take it easy. I didn't say.
Mr Gittes,|this isn't the time to discuss it.
- You should lie down and...|- Who are you?
Kitty Berman.
Sorry, Mrs Berman, I...|I didn't recognise you.
That's understandable.|We've never actually been introduced.
What about you, Mrs Berman?
Do you know where|Mr Berman got this land?
I've asked you nicely|not to involve my wife.
Jake, please.
I think there's something you should|do before you ask any more questions.
What's that?
Get your head examined.|You may not be thinking clearly.
I don't like waking up|with someone staring at me,
especially when I can't|see their eyes.
You're lucky you're awake at all.
Mr Weinberger,|Lieutenant Loach again,
Mr Novak, Mr Weinberger again,|and a Mr Oatley.
- Oatley?|- Tyrone.
- Otley.|- Gosh dang it. Otley.
Gittes Investigations.
It's Lieutenant Loach.|It sounds serious.
Gladys, it's only serious|if it's Escobar.
- Mr Gittes isn't in...|- You were tailing Berman.
Ralph is. I thought|you were going to see a doctor.
First thing in the morning.
You just had your bell rung|pretty good, Jake.
- Yeah.|- Captain Escobar. It's serious.
- Take a message.|- He's after the recording.
- He doesn't even know we have it.|- Are you going to lie to him?
Would I lie to him?
When was the last time|you saw the Mulwray girl?
She must have been 14, 15 years old.
People can get in a lot of trouble|in that amount of time.
I'd have heard.
She ever send a bottle of Scotch|saying, "Welcome home, sailor"?
How about a fruitcake|for Christmas? A postcard?
Cripes, Jake, you're not responsible|for Evelyn Mulwray's death.
And you're not responsible|for Katherine Mulwray's life!
Her name was on the wire recording.|That's all I'm saying.
That's got nothing to do with our|problems with this fellow Berman.
- How do we know?|- OK. I'll check the land title.
I'll see if there's|anything peculiar.
- You don't have to do that.|- If I don't, you will.
Why don't you put that file away?
Life's been good.|You're a seven handicap.
- Six.|- Six. Marrying a wonderful girl.
Why don't you go see a doctor?|Put that file away.
Dear Jake, I'm leaving|with Katherine for Mexico.
I couldn't wait for you any longer.
Once we're safe,|I'll get word to you through Khan.
Please, don't try to look for us.
My father is crazy enough|to track you to us.
I want my daughter|to believe a new life is possible.
I know I told you|I don't see men for very long.
You seem to be that rare exception.
I can't say goodbye to you. Evelyn.
P.S. Katherine said that you seemed|a very nice man, and Curly concurred.
- I see you survived the war.|- Yes.
It's been a long time,
but I read about you|in the papers once in a while.
What can I say? Trashy publicity's|part of my business.
The less you want, the more you get.
Please. I enjoy it.|I'm sure many people do.
Besides, you are very successful.
- I can't complain.|- Does that mean you are happy?
Who can answer that question|off the top of their head?
Anyone who's happy.
What about Katherine?
I'm sure she's as happy|as she can be.
- No problems?|- I can't quite catch your concern.
- Is a reason she might need money?|- I can't see why.
She owns a lot of land.|Taxes have risen since the war.
I wouldn't know. We've had|no contact for quite a while.
Odd flowers.
Yes. Isn't it amazing|they still grow here?
It's her favourite. She bred them.|You see those purple hues?
They're caused by|the burning of the seed.
This is how I remember her last.
Where did she go from here? If she's|in trouble, I just wanna help her.
If she is in trouble,|you would not be the one to help.
Like her,|you are a prisoner of the past.
You would do her more harm than good.
Such things have happened.|Wherever fate has taken her,
I'm sure that she is grateful|for what you've done for her.
Isn't that enough?
I don't wanna live in the past, Khan.|I just don't wanna lose it.
You keep it.
I am The Whistler. And I know|many things, for I walk by night.
I know many strange tales|hidden in the hearts of men.
I know the nameless terrors|which they fear most.
The city's different at night.|The air smells better.
It's harder to see that the oil rigs|outnumber the palm trees
and it's almost like|the good old days.
At least the way|I'd like to remember them.
Stay in this business long enough
and every street leads to|a place you'd like to forget.
Every case brings back|memories of what might have been,
and every skirt|reminds you of another woman.
Or, if you've got it bad enough,|the same woman.
Trick or treat.
You shouldn't be breaking into|people's offices, Mickey.
Not with your reputation.|And Halloween is this weekend.
I guess we got the jump on everyone.
Liberty Levine,|say hello to Jake Gittes.
Liberty Levine?
He can wrap his fist around|a roll of silver dollars.
- What's this?|- It's a hand grenade.
You ought to know that.|You're a war hero. See?
Don't let go of the handle.
You only have what, four seconds|to answer your calls, nudnik?
You wouldn't have enough time.|You were very popular today.
Weinberger. Escobar.|Weinberger. Weinberger.
He wants to sue somebody, naturally.|Linda. Escobar. Linda again.
She's nuts about you.|I wonder what she wants.
Captain Escobar, he wants the Berman|wire recording, by tomorrow.
Otherwise, he's coming after you|with a court order
for withholding evidence,|conspiracy... So, Jake...
You got criminal,|you got civil, you got love.
But before anything of this|nature comes to pass, you got me.
And I want you to do something|for me. I need a favour.
Favour?
I think that the Berman|wire recording is in your safe.
So what I want you to do is open the|safe, drop the grenade in the safe,
and then, most important|of all, close the safe.
- You're crazy, Mickey.|- That may be.
But do you know a better way|to stay healthy?
All right.
I was wrong. It's not here.
Liberty?
That was a nice show. Take a bow.
Where is it? Where is it, Jake?
- At my lawyer's.|- Your lawyer's?
I want the Berman wire recording|by tomorrow. Be a mensch.
Otherwise, I'm going to have|to give you a serious reprimand.
I'm shedding all over the place.|I'm sorry.
Lie back.
Mickey do this to you?
I thought so. I saw he and Liberty|going down as I was coming up.
Mrs Bodine...
How do you know|the biggest hood in LA?
I've seen him around town.|Santa Anita. Private screenings.
The Bolanos fight at the Legion.
- Jake introduced us.|- Berman?
They grew up together in|Boyle Heights. They're best friends.
What can I do for you?
Testify that Berman knew his wife|was in bed with his business partner.
Just that one little thing?
And I hear you have a recording that|proves Berman murdered my husband.
That's what they say,|but I'm not sure it proves anything.
Anyway, I'd like it.
- Mrs Bodine...|- Lillian.
Lillian.
- Ethically, I can't do that.|- Ethically?
I have certain|statutory obligations.
I can't use information|adverse to a client,
when I acquired that information|while employed by the client.
Then I'll hire you.|Prove Berman planned it.
- Lillian, just listen...|- No! Put the weasel in jail.
Nothing else matters.
How about five or six million bucks?
Your husband's share|of the subdivision.
Berman said he'd let you have it.
- Could I make a phone call?|- Please.
That's what your lawyer told you|to say to six million bucks?
Yes.
- You always do what he tells you?|- More or less.
- And who tells him what to do?|- What do you mean?
That woman at your house|the other night. He listened to her.
That's Mattie Rawley.|Everybody listens to her.
- He's her lawyer, too?|- Her husband's.
Any reason Mr Rawley would have|to be interested in Jake Berman?
He was a friend of Mark's.|That's how I met Mattie.
Tell you what I'm gonna do.
You can't have the recording,|but you can listen to it.
Mark and Kitty... talk on it?
Mainly, yeah.
If you're not up to this,|I'll understand.
I'm up to it.
All right?
Adam boy charlie, adam boy charlie.|Lawrence Walsh.
- Mayday, bail out.|- What's wrong?
Some linen supply guys are making|a delivery right outside your door.
They're making a delivery...
Honey.
Kitty, there's a woman who can give|"akey" a bad time, and you know who.
Does that mean something to you -|"akey"?
Mark called Berman Jakey sometimes.
Kitty, there's a woman who can give|"akey" a bad time, and you know who.
"There's a woman who can give Jakey|a bad time, and you know who"?
- Something like that.|- Honey, I think you do know.
We're talking about|Katherine Mulwray.
- Mark, not again.|- Kitty, I'm telling you...
Sounds like he thinks this Katherine|could give Berman a hard time.
Did Mark ever mention her to you?
Mark never talked about women|with me. He was a chaser.
And he never had to run very far.
If I get to her I can prove Jake has|taken advantage of the land.
- We could all strike it rich.|- Just hold me. Hold me.
- See what I mean?|- About what?
Did you ever hear of whipstocking?
Whips and stockings? God damn it.|That son of a bitch was...
Lillian, just calm down.
I always knew that Kitty|was a perverted little snat.
- Kitty, how could you?|- Don't let it start.
...to the beauty parlour...|- Don't let me hear. It's coming.
Don't let me hear.|No, don't let me hear!
God damn it, you son of a bitch,|don't let me hear!
I don't want to hear any more!
All right.
Where'd that gun come from?
All right. All right.|It's over. It's over.
Somebody call an ambulance!
- I'm getting out of here.|- Can I help you?
Stop me.
- Don't let me go back to the house.|- So stay here.
I'm not responsible|for one more thing.
- No! Damn you, you bastard!|- All right!
All right!|That's enough! That's enough.
Don't make me do it.|Don't make me do it. Don't...
You're going to make me do it,|aren't you?
You're going to make me.|You're going to make me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.|Yeah, I am. All right.
Take the rest of|that goddamned thing off.
Honestly, I'm trying to be|a gentleman about this.
Now just... get down on your knees.|Down on your knees.
Stick your ass up in the air,|and don't move until I tell you.
I did come across some documents.
You've met Mrs Bodine.|Lawrence Walsh, my oldest associate.
Mrs Bodine and I have been having|a lengthy consultation, and...
I see.
Going over a number of matters.|Mrs Bodine has expressed a wish
to employ us to locate the previous|owner of the B & B subdivision land.
Pardon me, Jake.|Can I talk to you for a minute?
Excuse us, Mrs Bodine.
This is Berman's|title insurance report.
- The previous owner was Mickey Nice.|- Mickey Nice?
Now look at the previous|title transfer.
Now, don't go off half-cocked,|we don't know what this really means.
You got to admit it was generous|of Katherine to give her land away.
From Katherine to Mickey to Berman,|same day, same place.
- It's Ralph calling again.|- I'll take it in my office.
Ralph? Hold on.|He'll be with you in a minute.
- Is everything all right?|- Fine.
I'm at the Bay City Laundry, corner|of Little Washington and Venice.
Somebody's following Berman|besides me.
- Probably the cops.|- No. It's a guy in a tan Studebaker.
- Not the cops?|- No.
All right. Stick with Berman. Get a|number on the Studey. I'm on my way.
Do you think Mr Walsh|has any idea that we...
Absolutely none.
- They're still in the laundry.|- Who?
Berman, Mickey,|that hood Liberty and some blonde.
Some blonde?
What the hell is|Chuck Newty doing here?
- Is that the tail?|- Yeah.
Stay with Berman, I'll cover|the mouthpiece. You got dimes?
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