Chicago Deadline Page #4

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How long did you know her?

A couple of years.

Remember the first time you met her?

Yeah.

She was a sweet kid, wasn't she?

Yeah.

One of the most beautiful girls I ever saw.

Seeing her lying there in that cheap flea-bitten hotel, alone.

Who threw her to the wolves, Solly?

Adams!

That's enough.

Some other time when you check that artillery.

Get those arms down.

I don't know Rosita. I never heard of her.

If I were you, you didn't either.

Drop it. Forget it. She's poison.

Go!

Ed, Howard wants you.

Hello, Ed.

Hi.

What does Howard want?

I can't keep up with a genius like yourself.

But you've done something.

There's a detective and G.G.Temple in there.

Temple?

Hey, watch out for this for me, will you?

Just in case I get pinched or have to run out of here

too fast to pick it up.

All right, Ed.

Come in.

Oh, hello, Adams.

You know both these gentlemen.

Yes, I think so.

Mr. Temple has just been telling me

about a phone call he had from you.

Yes, sir.

He's also been explaining that his connection

with this Jean D'Ur woman was entirely respectable.

He told the police all he knows about her.

Yes, sir.

Where are you getting your information, Ed?

How did you learn that Mr. Temple knew this girl?

I don't think it's anybody's business how a reporter

gets his information.

There's no crime involved in this case.

As far as I know.

They're trying to identify the girl.

Well, so am I, boss.

It happens to by our business.

And it happens to be mine also.

Your business as I understand it is to write the news factually.

Not a lot of irresponsible insinuations.

I haven't written anything yet, Mr. Temple,

except the simple story of a girl's death.

Do you intend to connect me with this girl?

That depends.

It's obviously factual, as you put it,

that you knew her.

It's also obviously factual that you're scared out of your pants

or you wouldn't be here.

Adams!

Okay, boss.

Why are you so interested in this girl?

Simply routine.

A kid dies alone in a cheap hotel.

Without friends. relatives or anyone caring

whether she's buried in a grave or in an ash-can.

That's all the story there is to it, at first.

Just a simple little human interest yarn.

Then you start bouncing the corpse down the street

and suddenly you have the whole place all to yourself.

That interests me.

How did you get Mr. Temple's private number?

Maybe he goes around writing it on the walls

of pay stations.

Ed, I know you too well.

You don't fool around with a little thing like this...

unless you've got something.

What is it?

Sorry.

You will tell us, Ed.

Really?

Adams, you know perfectly well that The Journal

can't have any part in the withholding of evidence.

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