The Dark Corner

Synopsis: Private investigator Bradford Galt has moved to New York from San Fransisco after serving a jail term on account of his lawyer partner Tony Jardine. When he finds someone is tailing - and possibly trying to kill him, Galt believes Jardine is behind it. As he finds there is rather more to it, he is increasingly glad to have his attractive new secretary Kathleen around, for several reason.
Director(s): Henry Hathaway
Production: 20th Century Fox
Rotten Tomatoes:
99 min

- Galt in?

- He's in the building someplace.

He'll be right back. May I help you?

Lieutenant Reeves.

Maybe you can help me,

if you know anything I want to know.

I don't know anything

you couldn't find out by asking Mr Galt.

Nice quality, loyalty.

- How long have you been working for him?

- Several weeks.

- What do you know about him?

- I like him.

Keep you busy?

I sharpen pencils, do the typing,

answer the phone,

and mind my own business.

Well, look who's here.

Hello, Reeves.

- What are you working on?

- My income tax.

Get to the point, Reeves. What do you want?

Why didn't you let me know

you were moving offices?

Why should I?

I notified the commissioner of licences.

- But you didn't notify me. I wanna know too.

- Why?

I've taken a personal interest in you.

I promised my friends in California

to see you didn't get into mischief.

You're an impulsive youth, you know.

Look. I got a fast shuffle out West.

Now all I'm asking is a fair chance

to work up a legitimate business.

I'm playing this by the book,

and I won't even trip over a comma.

I hope not. You got a nice setup.

Good view... and a good-looking secretary.

You'd be smart to keep it clean.

It's nearly six. I'd like to leave now,

if there's nothing else.

There is.


Have dinner with me.

Is this part of the job?

It is tonight.

Being a private detective, I don't suppose you

could uncover a pair of nylons somewhere?

I'll make a note of it.

Working conditions

are certainly looking up around here.

(man) Watch the lady hit the ball.

There she comes. It's a foul ball.

All right, she doesn't know her own strength.

You're out, lady!

How about it?

Come on, step up. Who wants

to hit the ball next? Right this way.

Say, that was OK.

- How do you do that after all that chop suey?

- My father was a major-league umpire.

- Well, what else can I beat you at?

- What kind of games do you like to play?

You know, we got some great playgrounds

around 52nd Street.

- Among them your apartment?

- Just a coincidence.

I haven't worked for you long,

but I know when you're pitching a curve,

- and I always carry a catcher's mitt.

- No offence. A guy's got to try to score.

Not in my league. "I don't play for score,

I play for keeps," said she with a smile.

Say, you wanna give me some change?

Ten pennies.

(man) Win something

every time you pull a string.

- Hey. Let's take a look at the competition.

- All right.

- Here.

- Oh, gimme another one.

I might fire you and get a Tahitian secretary.

You won't like 'em,

those grass skirts are a fire hazard.


Aren't any of these for women?

Hey, now here's a nice secretary.

- Mr Galt?

- Don't worry, I'm not gonna fire you.

Mr Galt, I think someone's following us.

Yeah, I know. Guy in a white suit.

About five foot ten, brown hair.

Sports shoes. Ring on his left pinkie.

Don't stare back.

Let's go.

- I've never been followed before.

- A terrible reflection on American manhood.

- Why is he following us?

- Maybe he likes your big blue eyes.

- Look.

- Hm.

I'll put you in a cab. Go round the block

and park across from our office.

- What then?

- I'll ask him to the office for choir practice.

If he's sings nicely, I'll revive him. When he

leaves, follow him. Tell me where he goes.

OK. But...

- What have you been doing?

- What do you think I've been doing?

You could've been doing a lot of things.

You're stubborn and impulsive

and you think you're tough.

You've got some blind spots too.

Yeah? Name one.

Sentiment about women, for instance.

You're afraid of emotion.

You keep your heart in a steel safe.

I suppose you're the blowtorch type.

I can be warm.

(loudly) Good night, Mr Galt.

(loudly) Good night, Kathleen.

See you in the morning. OK, driver.

(footsteps approaching)


There's a pepper pot under the hat, buster.

Let's take a walk.

Face the wall.

Legs apart.

Lean against it.

All right, shell out.

(heavy thump)

(Galt) Make nice brass knuckles, don't they?

Brass knucks ain't legal.

I just carry my change the hard way.

All right. Let's play twenty questions.

You answer them correctly,

maybe I won't knock your teeth out.

We'll start easy. What's your racket?

Same as yours. Private dick.

That's the wrong answer.

We don't go on ajob without a licence.

I left it home.

OK. Let me coax you.

I can do it the hard way.

- How long you been shagging me?

- Two days. I was in your pocket all the time.

- Who buys the tickets?

- A client.

I don't know his name. He pays me by mail.

You know I can't tell you his name.

It ain't ethical.

Yeah, sure. You and me both,

we're up to our ears in ethics.


What's his name? Who's paying ya?

(choking) Jardine.

Come again?

Anthony Jardine.

What's he look like?

Tall. Yellow hair.

Fancy dresser.

Thinks he's class on a stick.

- Where do you live?

- With my brother-in-law on 23rd Street.

What's his phone number?

(blurts out) Chelsea. 043510.

- (man) Yeah?

- Fred Foss there?

- He ain't here.

- When will he be back?

I don't know. Want me to tell him something?


I catch you shagging me again,

I'll ram these right down your throat.

Here. Get the suit cleaned.

Jardine's particular about neatness.

I keep this. I got a poor memory

for names and numbers.

I may want to look you up again sometime.

Hey. This cab's taken, buddy.


Did you lose him?

That's fine.

You should have William Powell

for a secretary.

William Powell, who's he?

Don't you ever go to the movies?

He's a detective in The Thin Man.

That's pretty hot ginger ale you're mixing up.

- Who was that man?

- White Suit?

- Yeah.

- Just hired muscle.

- Who hired him?

- Forget it. You'll be better off.

Had the smell of Judas on me

since I touched him.

Who? Come on, open up that steel safe.

I wanna know and I wanna help.

I can't, baby.

But that's...

that's awful good talk.

I like it.


If you don't wanna lose that stardust look

in your eyes, go while the door's still open.

You stick around here, you'll get grafters,

shysters, two-bit thugs, maybe worse.

Maybe me.

I like those odds. I'll take them.

And I'm staying.

Whatever this is,

I've got a feeling you can handle it.

And I like your style, Mr Galt.

Thanks, Kathleen.

Having said my little piece,

I think it's time for me to go home now.

- See you in the morning, boss.

- Hadn't you better start calling me Brad?

Say, about those nylons. What size?


I'll make a note of it.


- Good evening, Mr Jardine.

- Evening, Henry.

Good evening, Mr Jardine.

- Mrs Reynolds, so nice to see you.

- What a lovely party. This reminds me...

Yes. Mrs Cathcart's in the ballroom.

Hello, Jardine.

I practically live here.

I shouldn't bother to leave.

A delight to have you.

You're dining with us tomorrow too.

Oh, yes, thank you. I'll be here.

Where's Mari?

She's inside somewhere.

Wasting her charm on a lot of dullards.

Shall we go in?

Ah. Guten Abend, Frau Keller.

The wife of the Austrian critic. She looks like

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Jay Dratler

Jay Dratler (September 14, 1910- September 25, 1968) was an American screenwriter and novelist. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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