The Blue Dahlia Page #2

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I go where I want to

with anybody I want.

I just happen to be that kind of a girl.

I'd have thought Dickey's death would

have made a little more difference.

We lived in a five-room house,

and I did the laundry.

And I never went anywhere

'cause I had a kid to look after.

I don't have a kid

to look after anymore.

And the people I go with now don't use

a kiss as an excuse to sock each other.

Keep on drinking that

and you won't need an excuse.

Really?

You're not paying for my drinks.

Well, why don't you answer it?

You want to run everything else around here.

Hello?

This is Johnny. Oh, hello, Buzz.

You got the place, huh?

Yeah. Yeah. Where George lived

before. Walked right into it.

Yeah, there was 19 guys ahead of us,

but they like George, here.

Oh, that's great, Buzz.

Hey, what's your telephone number?

Hillside

8-6-6-1. Okay. Bye.

- The boys found an apartment.

- Yes?

I didn't know these

things were ever blue.

They're Eddie

Harwood's calling cards.

He owns a night club on the

strip called the Blue Dahlia.

Helen. Let's try just once more.

I'd love to. I'm a girl

that tries and tries.

Well, suppose we begin

by your not drinking anymore, huh?

Suppose we begin by

you minding your own business?

- I said you've had enough!

- Take your paws off me!

Maybe you've learned

to like hurting people.

I could tell you something about

Dickey that would hurt you plenty!

What about Dickey?

What about Dickey?

- Noisy in here, aren't you?

- So what?

What do you call that, a prayer meeting?

Okay, Mr Morrison, just doing my job.

- Better close up. It's gonna rain.

- Okay.

Maybe you'd better pull the blinds down, too,

if you're gonna push your wife around.

A call from the house detective.

Pretty, isn't it?

Now what about Dickey?

- Forget it, Johnny. It was nothing...

- What about Dickey?

It was nothing, I tell you.

- Talk, tell me, will you?

- Johnny, please.

It could happen to anybody.

I'd been to a party.

I had to take Dickey with me.

I had a few drinks.

Oh, stop the tears!

All right, hero.

I was drunk. I was in a car smash.

Dickey was killed.

I wrote you he died of diphtheria

because I was afraid to tell you the truth.

How do you like it?

Johnny!

That's what I ought to do.

But you're not worth it.

Line, please.

York 2-3-3-8.

Mr Harwood, please. Mrs Morrison calling.

Will you ask him to call me, please?

Yeah?

Johnny?

Oh, oh, yeah, Mrs Morrison.

George and me, we're Johnny's pals.

I know. That's why I'm calling.

We had a quarrel. He walked out on me.

Walked out on you?

Well, don't you worry about a thing.

George and me, we'll bring him

back if we have to frogmarch him.

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