Angel Heart

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How are you?

Hello!

Yes, this is Harold Angel.

Yes, initial R, like in the phone book.

Excuse me?

Winesap.

Herman Winesap,

Winesap & Mackintosh?

Hold on a second!

Winesap from Winesap &...

Mackintosh. I've got it!

Of course I know what an attorney is.

It's like a lawyer,

only the bills are bigger.

Sure, I'll hold.

A**hole!

Hello, Mr. Winesap? Harold Angel.

Yeah, I could be free.

Would this be with your firm?

Gimme that again.

Louis... how do you spell that?

Cyphre... okay.

What is it... foreign?

Is your client a foreigner?

Mr. Winesap, could you

give me a few more details?

Okay, I know the place.

It's a long way up, but I can be there.

Hallelujah!

Show right now how much you love God!

I want you to show! It's your time!

Open up your hearts

and open up your wallets!

Open your purses!

Open your pockets!

And give it up! Praise the Lord!

Somebody has been talking about me

riding around in a Cadillac.

If you love me and want to give to me,

then I should be in a Rolls-Royce!

Would you come with me, please?

An unfortunate husband

of one of Pastor John's flock

took a gun to his head. Most unpleasant.

Mr. Angel? Please?

Allow me to introduce my client,

Monsieur Louis Cyphre.

Hi, Harry Angel.

- Pleased to meet you, Mr. Angel.

I don't want to appear impolite,

but do you have any I. D.?

- Sure! Here...

How's that?

GU N PERM I:

Nothing personal.

I'm a little over-cautious.

You know how these things are.

- I know. So...

How did you hear about me?

I guess

you guys just looked in the phone book.

Usually that's what happens. Because

my name is "Angel", it's under "A"...

People are lazy.

They see the first name

and...

- Johnny Favorite.

Excuse me?

Do you by chance remember

the name Johnny Favorite?

Johnny...

No, I don't think so.

You never knew him?

- Am I supposed to?

He was a crooner before the war,

quite famous in his way.

Well, I tell you, Mr. Cyphre...

I'm sorry!

I usually don't get involved

in anything very heavy. I usually

handle insurance jobs, divorces,

things of that nature.

If I'm lucky sometimes

I handle people. But I don't know

no crooners

or anybody famous.

- His real name was Liebling.

I don't know any Liebling, either.

What do you want from me?

Does this man owe you money?

- Not quite.

I helped Johnny

at the beginning of his career.

You were like... his agent?

No!

Nothing so...

Monsieur Cyphre has a contract.

Certain collateral was to be forfeited

in the event of his death.

You're talking about a guy that's dead?

- He was drafted in '43,

North Africa.

"Special Entertainment Services".

There was an attack,

and his head and face was badly injured.

He had...

- Amnesia. I think you call it...

Shell shock.

- Exactly! - I know how that feels.

Why? Were you in the services?

- I was in for a short time.

But I got a little f***ed up.

Excuse me! They shipped me home,

and I missed the whole shebang:

The war, the medals, everything.

I guess you could say I was lucky.

Johnny wasn't so lucky.

He returned home a zombie.

His friends had him transferred

to a private hospital upstate.

There was some sort of

radical psychiatric treatment involved.

His lawyers had

the power of attorney

to pay the bills, things like that.

But you know how it is.

He remained a vegetable, and my

contract was never honored. - I see.

I don't want to sound mercenary.

My only interest in Johnny

is in finding out if he's alive or dead.

Each year my office receives a

signed affidavit confirming

that Johnny Liebling

is indeed among the living.

But last weekend

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