Peeper

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Twentieth Century-Fox presents...

a Robert Chartoff-Irwin Winkler

production.

Michael Caine and Natalie Wood

in Peeper.

A Peter Hyams film.

Costarring Kitty Winn...

Michael Constantine...

Thayer David...

Timothy Agoglia Carey...

Liam Dunn and Don Calfa.

Production designer:

Albert Brenner.

Film Editor:

james Mitchell.

Music by Richard Clements.

Director of Photography:

Earl Rath, A.S.C.

Screenplay by W.D. Richter.

Based on the novel Deadfall

by Keith Laumer.

Produced by Irwin Winkler

and Robert Chartoff.

Directed by Peter Hyams.

Here's looking at you.

I suppose I should tell you how it all began.

Except I'm not sure

I know exactly when that was.

My name is Tucker.

I'm a private investigator...

or 'peeper"as they like

to call it here.

They have a lot of strange words

for things in America...

and none of them

are in plain English.

I came to Los Angeles

right after the war.

I guess, like everybody else,

I was looking for success and glamour...

and Betty Grable.

As it turned out, Betty Grable

had an unlisted telephone number.

So do success and glamour.

I opened a small offiice around the corner

from Hollywood Boulevard.

The rent was cheap enough,

and I figured...

if Betty Grable ever trips

on her way to a big premiere...

I could run around the corner

and help her.

You never can tell, you know.

Thoroughbreds have weak ankles.

So that's where I was that night.

It was after midnight,

there was nothing good on the radio...

and I couldn't get my heart

into doing my bookkeeping.

I kept on trying to get the numbers

on the adding machine to lie...

and tell me I wasn't broke.

The adding machine

kept telling me the truth...

which is that the robbers

make more money than the cops.

I read in the paper

the other day...

where President Truman said this country

is in the middle of a postwar boom.

I've kept my windows open,

and I still haven't been able to hear it.

I've also kept my door unlocked...

for prosperity to walk right in.

Maybe that's where it all started.

I should've locked my door.

You maybe looking for somebody, tough guy?

Good-bye, tough guy.

You're in your offiice

late at night, minding your own business...

and someone races down the hall

like that... You get curious.

judging by the sound,

it was either a guy or a 200-pound lady.

My hunch was it was a guy.

You have to go with your instincts.

I saw George Raft

do this in a movie once.

I don't know exactly what it proves...

except, if you add up

all the times I've done it...

I'm out about a dollar.

I don't like the light!

You're right.

It doesn't do you justice.

- I'm Lou Anglich.

- Oh, charming.

Don't worry. I didn't read none of that.

You must have a lot of dough...

the front you put up.

It's my cleaning lady's day off.

- These are the ones I like.

- I like 'em too.

- How'd you find me?

- I was passing by.

- Oh, really? I have a rather restricted clientele.

- Oh, I get it.

The widows' and orphans' friend. But a guy

which maybe he ain't had all the breaks...

You throw him out on his tailbone.

You know something?

You're not an American.

- I can tell. You talk funny.

- You think so?

Hey, take a look at this.

That's my little Anya.

My kid, see?

I don't see her

for 29 years. 1918.

I tell you a secret. Sit tight.

All right. Now I tell you.

I come into my own lately.

Yes, that's very nice,

but I couldn't help noticing...

- That some people were trying

to get into my office...

- Listen to me!

I put my kid in an orphanage

29 years ago.

It was a nice place... trees, fiowers,

other kids to play with.

l-I had to go away on business.

You get the picture?

When you came back, she was gone.

And you are holding my shirt.

- Oh.

- Thank you.

Only two years later,

they give her away to some stranger.

- She was adopted, you mean.

- Adopted? The place is a pawnshop!

I got ahold of this mug

that worked there.

He charged me $7 5.

In 1918, that's a million!

Anyhow, he told me

she was took by a guy named Conroy.

- Where's this Conroy now?

- Beats me. At the old address, nobody knows him.

I checked the first day

I got in town.

- What do you mean, got in town?

- I've been in Tampa, Florida.

I left L.A. 12 years ago.

I only been back a couple days.

You mean you haven't

looked for your daughter since 1 91 8?

I been busy!

Anyhow, listen to me.

It was down in Tampa that I come

into my own... in the Sunshine State.

- You're holding my shirt again.

- Oh. So, listen.

I come back to give Anya her fair share.

You are playing games with me.

I got another picture.

- I can't see in this light.

- Well, it's supposed to be the guy... Conroy.

It was taken

when Anya disappeared.

This picture was taken

in the spring of 1918 in Los Angeles...

the Wilshire area,

probably in Hancock Park.

It was probably taken around 3:00

on an April afternoon...

because the light hits from the right.

The number on the front... 547, odd... means

that the house is on the north side of the street.

So, if it's still there,

she'll be easy to find.

You are a smart guy.

Who have you shown this to?

Lately, I mean.

Only the people in the house

where Conroy used to live.

- But you drew a blank.

- Yeah.

Well, 29 years

is a long time.

This contact at the orphanage...

Would he have a name?

- What's the matter with you?

Everybody's got a name.

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