The Dark Corner Page #4

I think he wants to finish where he left off.

You'd think after San Francisco

he'd leave you alone.

He will. This is just for the record.

- Don't play it too close.

- I'm still working by the book.

Jardine is definitely not the bookish type.

Yeah.

I know.

I decided to wait.

I don't want you to be

in that corner pocket all alone.

In addition, I might add,

you've aroused the maternal instinct in me.

I want to look out for you.

- You hate him an awful lot, don't you?

- Who?

The man who hired White Suit.

He makes it easy.

Brad, what has he got on you?

Nothing. Nobody has,

and nobody's going to.

Not you either.

All right, but remember I can get

brand-new tough guys for a dime a dozen.

Here.

Get yourself two dozen.

I'd rather pick you up at a rummage sale.

I'm a sucker for bargains.

Speaking of which,

if you can't get nines in those nylons,

I'll take eight and a half or even ten.

Doesn't matter.

I'll make a note of it.

Come on, let's finish the dance.

- Thanks, Brad. Good night.

- "Good night"?

Can't I come up for a minute?

I'm thirsty. I want a drink of water.

There you go again,

pitching low and outside.

OK.

You all right, buddy?

- Brad, are you all right?

- Yeah.

- Did he hit you?

- No, I scraped it on the hydrant.

You'd better take it easy for a minute. Let's

go in Mrs Schwartz's for a cup of coffee, huh?

Come in. Sit down.

- Can I do something for you?

- Some hot coffee.

Yes, surely. A nice cup of coffee.

Brad, was that an accident?

I don't know. The jury's still out.

Hey, mister. I saw that car.

I got part of the number too.

- What was it?

- I only got the first part. 6-3-N-9 something.

- 6-3-N-9.

- Yes.

- Is that all you got? What kind of a car?

- I couldn't see very well. I think a Lincoln.

- Here, kid.

- Gee, thanks, mister.

Do you think you can trace that number?

I know a cop I can call.

He can check on it, call me back.

What do you think you're gonna prove, Brad?

Maybe nothing.

But I know a guy who's handy with a car.

They tell me you have to be in San Francisco.

You know, on account of the steep hills.

- There a phone in here?

- Back on the wall.

(loud car horn)

Oh, it's getting late.

I've got to go to Scarsdale.

Scarsdale? At this time of night?

Unfortunately.

Such is the hectic life of an art collector.

For six months I've been trying

to get a Turner landscape.

Tonight of all nights,

the owner is in the mood to talk business.

Confidentially,

I've got to close the deal tonight.

I've already sold it to Mrs Kingsley.

Then you can't afford to haggle over price.

Lovers of beauty

never haggle over price, Tony.

I probably shan't return much before dawn.

How I detest the dawn.

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