Where the Sidewalk Ends

1

'13th Precinct. Address, 238 Third Avenue.

'Cars 1235, 1236 and 78.

'Signal, 30. Authority, CB. Time, 9.03pm.

'Dispatcher number 79.

Car 905, call the dispatcher.

'88, 394. Dispatcher 88.

'73rd Precinct. Address, 171 Herzl Street.

'Cars 1634, 1635 and 89.

'Signal, 32.

Auto, out-of-town licence plates.

'Operator entered basement

of that address.

'Authority, CB. Time, 9.05pm.

'Stations 88, 394. Dispatcher number 79.'

- Hello, Murphy.

- You're late for the ceremony.

- Still up in the squad room?

- Yeah.

Lieutenant Thomas will be in charge

of this precinct...

...and no-one else.

So far as you are concerned,

he has no superiors.

You'll give him your co-operation...

and your obedience,

and I expect this precinct

to maintain its high record with the

department under your new lieutenant.

Do you wish to make any remarks,

Lieutenant?

I'll talk to the men individually.

Good idea.

Dixon, I want to talk to you.

- I'll use your office, Thomas.

- Yes, sir.

- That's all, boys.

- Congratulations.

Good luck, Lieutenant.

Sit down, Dixon.

We've had 12 more legitimate citizen

complaints against you this month

for assault and battery.

From who? Hoods, dusters, mugs.

Lot of nickel rats.

You're a big disappointment to me, Dixon.

You've just seen a man who

started out at the same time you did

take a big step up in the department,

which you'll never do

unless you get hold of yourself.

I know what to get hold of, sir:

a little more pull.

Sit still!

You've got to learn what's expected

of a police officer and what isn't.

Yes, sir. I'll try to learn

not to hate hoods so much.

You don't hate hoodlums, you like

to beat them up. You get fun out of it.

You like to read about yourself

in the newspapers

as the tough cop

who isn't afraid to wade in anywhere.

Your job is to detect criminals,

not to punish them.

Is that all, sir?

I'm reducing your rank, Dixon.

You're going back to second grade.

Any more complaints against you

for cruelty or roughhouse

and you'll be back in uniform

pounding a beat.

It's no fun telling you this.

You're a good man with a good brain,

but you're no good to the department

unless you learn to control yourself.

All right, you can go now.

Thank you, sir, for the advice.

Hey, Willie. Willie!

How you feeling, Willie?

Feeling fine, thanks.

Don't you think

you'd better be in bed, Willie?

Parole rules allow me to 12 o'clock.

I got 20 minutes yet.

How's Mr Scalise, Willie?

What you tryin' to do, trap me?

I ain't consortin' with questionable

characters and nobody can prove I am.

That's a nice boy.

You better get to bed, it's good for you.

Sure.

- Who is it?

- Willie.

My point. Come on,

eight the hard way, two fours.

- Seven the loser.

- You're lucky tonight, Mr Morrison.

The little lady brought me luck.

- Your dice, Mr Paine.

- Pass.

- Your dice, Mr Morrison.

- OK, I'll shoot 3,000.

- I'll take one.

- I'll take 500 of it.

I'll take the rest. You're covered.

- Hello.

- Care to join our game, Mr Bender?

- Sure, sure.

- How are things?

Oh, fine.

Bumped into a couple of old friends

of ours, Dixon and Klein.

They asked about you,

but I think they're too busy to drop in.

Too bad.

All right, come on, dice!

Give it to me, a six. Right back.

Here we go, six!

- Ten.

- Ten.

Mr Morrison is from Texas, and very rich.

Here, you breathe on 'em.

Now you got Lady Luck ridin'

with you, dice. This is it, a six!

Give it to me!

There it is, a six!

- And getting richer.

- Six is my lucky number.

I'll shoot the whole 6,000.

- Are you taking any, gentlemen?

- A grand.

Same here.

Four open.

You're covered, Mr Morrison.

I like your friends, Mr Paine.

Can't get better action in Amarillo.

All right, dice,

now we're going for the big money.

Come on!

What do you know? A seven!

If you don't mind,

I'd like to go home, Mr Morrison.

- Morgan.

- Ken, I have to be at work at 8.30.

That's right, you can't keep

a working girl up all hours.

- Then I'll take you home, Morgan.

- We'll all go. I'll get your things.

There y'are.

- Mr Morrison.

- Yes, sir?

You're 19 grand into it.

Oh, well, that's all right,

you'll get it back some other night.

I ain't leavin' town for a week.

Tell him you changed your mind,

you wanna stay.

No, Ken, I told you

I could only stay until midnight.

- You can't do this to me!

- I'm not doing anything to you.

I brought him here.

Oh...

- So that's it.

- Yes, that's it!

And you're foulin' me up again.

That's all you ever do!

You're telling him to stay.

- No, I'm not.

- Why, you...

Morgan!

You heel!

'16th Precinct. Address, 43rd Street

Hotel, 372c West 43rd Street.

'Cars 618, 619 and 12,

proceed immediately.'

That's us.

- Hello, Sergeant.

- Hiya.

- Foley.

- Hi, Sarge.

- Dice joint, huh?

- Yeah. A floater.

- Get his name?

- Morrison. Big barracuda.

He was DOA. Knife cut his heart in half.

Nobody did it, nobody saw it.

There's a cut on his hand.

He hit somebody hard.

Who runs this parlour?

Tommy Scalise. He's in there.

So dream boy finally

stepped into something, huh?

I've been waiting quite a while.

You should've gone home to bed,

Willie, like you were told.

You'd be asleep now,

with no parole troubles.

I live in this hotel.

I just dropped in for a cigarette.

How do you do, Mr Scalise?

Where did you hide the knife, dream boy?

Go easy, Dixon. Keep your hands off me.

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