Bad Day at Black Rock Page #3

I knew a man who lost his arm once

in a threshing accident.

He used to hunt all the time.

He was quite a man. He...

Sorry. If there's anything I can do

while you're around...

No, I was just looking for...

No, it doesn't matter.

You were looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?

I was looking for a man named Komako.

Komako. Sure, I remember him.

Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.

Got here in '41, just before Pearl Harbor.

Three months later, they shipped him off

to a relocation center.

Tough.

You don't happen to remember

which one they sent him to, do you?

Who knows?

Why don't you try writing him?

Glad to help you out.

I'm afraid you'd be wasting your time.

I've already written...

but they don't forward my letters.

They keep sending them back.

They do?

- Need any help?

- I can manage.

Well, I need a little help.

I'd like to rent your jeep.

That'll be $2 an hour. Gas extra.

- $10 for my time.

- Why not ask him where he wants to go?

He wants to go to Adobe Flat.

Is the road marked well?

Yeah, it's about six or seven miles down.

Fine, then I won't need your time.

- I thought you might need a little help.

- Oh, no.

I'll get along fine, thank you.

Liz, do you have a license to hire cars?

You might get into trouble.

I won't say a word to the sheriff.

You shouldn't have done that.

Thought it would be better if he went and

got done with it. What can he find out?

I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Reno.

You know that.

This is liable to be the hardest $10

you ever earned in your life.

- What do you want?

- He asked about Komako.

- Do you think he'll kick up a storm?

- A storm?

- What about?

- I don't know.

All I know is that

I don't want no more trouble around here.

Never again, trouble.

You don't know anything about Komako,

do you?

I do not. That's the point.

The point is, what you don't know

won't hurt you.

Maybe there's something I ought to know.

Maybe there's something

I ought to ask you...

before the stranger returns

and starts breathing down my neck.

Tim, you're just a lost ball

in the high weeds.

I told you a long time ago,

nothing happened for you to worry about.

The thing is, I do worry.

Maybe I ain't much else,

but I'm sure a worrier.

And I'm still the law.

Then do your job, Tim.

What is my job, Mr. Smith?

I'd better find out

before Macreedy does it for me.

Macreedy will do nothing.

And neither will you, Tim.

- Suppose I decide to try.

- That might be dangerous.

You got the body of a hippo

but the brain of a rabbit. Don't overtax it.

Yes, Mr. Smith.

Tim, buy you a cup of coffee?

- From LA?

- Yeah, from that private detective.

What does he say?

Who is this guy, anyway?

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