Chicago Deadline

Synopsis: On Chicago's South Side reporter Ed Adams finds the body of a dead girl. Her address book leads to a host of names of men frightened by her death but claiming never to have known her. Adams comes to know quite a lot, dangerously so.
Director(s): Lewis Allen
Production: Paramount Pictures
  1 nomination.
86 min

Three doors down, Ed. Fifteen.

She has no business here, anyway.

I'll be glad to get her out.

First thing you know, I'll have trouble.

And Ed, don't mention the Rialto.

And don't be noisy.

There's a sick girl next door.

Ed! Do you hear me?

Come in.


How do you do?

It's all right, Minerva.

I just came to take you home.

How did you know my name?

Are you a detective?

No, I'm only a newspaper reporter.

Do you mind.

I'm not going home. I'm going to lead my own life.

This kind of life?

I only came here because it was closer to the station

and I was going to move.

Oh, sure, sure.

My mother's worried about me, isn't she?

A little. She called the Police, the Missing Persons Bureau,

the papers, the animal shelters...

The last I heard she was trying to get the Governor.

Come on now, let's go.

Will there be a story?

Only if the Governor answers.

What's the matter?

Miss Maggie!

Miss Maggie!

Take a good look, Minerva.

You could end up in a place like this, too.

Dead! Lying there, her face all twisted.

I never thought she was sick as all that.

Stop your blabbering.

Ed, get that little brat in the next room out quick!

Ed, Ed, what'll I do?

Call the police.

Oh, dear!

How long has she lived here, Maggie?

Er... five days.

Ever been here before?

Never laid eyes on her.


Hello, Adam.

What are you doing here?

I saw your car downstairs, thought there might be something.

Some dame kicked off.

Yeah? What killed her?

Hemorrhage. TB, I'd say

What's her name, Maggie?


Rosita what?

Rosita Jean something. It's a French name.

You can look at it on the register. It's there.

How long has she been sick?

Well, she was sick when she came.

Find anything around?

Not so much as a letter.

That's funny.

Isn't it?

What's going on, Adams?

You know anything about this, do you?

Now what would I know about Rosita Whosis?

Careful with your hand.

How old do you think she is, Jack?

Twenty-five, twenty-six.

Not much more than a youngster.

Good looking, too, even like this.

Eight years ago she'd have made Minerva look like a dog.

Who's Minerva?

Oh, just a friend of mine.

What happens to her now?

Morgue for three days, unless somebody identifies her.

Eight years...

Funny, I wonder what happened to this one

during those eight years.

I can't get anything.

Nobody ever heard of the dame.

Somebody has to.

Pick a number.

Now, look! I don't know any Rosita.

And secondly, I wouldn't touch her dead or alive

with a ten foot pole.

Now lay off!

Poor girl. Yes, I recall her.

She visited a patient here, oh, some time ago.

She used to come in and see me.

A little dark-haired girl.

A very sweet child. I'm so sorry.

Do you remember whom she visited, sister?

I'm afraid not.

I only remember her because of our talks.

Did you know her family?

No, I don't think she ever mentioned.

Is there anything I can do?

We'll let you know.

Thank you, sister.


Hello, G.G.?


This is Adams.


Adams from The Journal.

We're trying to learn...

How did you get my private number?

If you'll answer a few questions, I might tell you.


We'd like to learn what you can tell us about

Rosita Jean D'Ur.

I can tell you nothing.

I'm afraid that's not quite true.

Why do you ask?

She was found dead this morning.

In a cheap hotel.


If The Journal or any other newspaper connects my name

with this woman, I'll sue them.

Is that clear, Mr. Adams?

Hey, who's the big shot whose initials are G.G.T.?

G.G. who?


Never heard of him, Ed.

Hey, it could be Temple.


G.G. Temple, vice-president of the Ayckroyd Trust.

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Warren Duff

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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