A (5:25)
Mrs. Hartnett, you got yourself a boy. Doma Hartnett gave me a New York address. One of the local hostelries went on a wait. I put out a few feelers for Ricky Temple and got nowhere. He dropped out of sight. I decided on an interview with Cal Hendricks. He was a newspaper man and if anybody could give me a lead, I felt he could. What in the world do you want with a shifty character like Ricky Temple? I'm hunting a diamond necklace for a client. I'm glad it's business, Steve, but I don't know if I can help you on hunt. When the gambling probe started a couple of months back, Ricky crawled down a sewer someplace for the other rats. I'm sure he's in New York. He used to hang around the west side up near Columbus Circle. Thanks, Kel. May go ask at some of the places up there. I'll leave you spare change here, will you? I can take care of myself. Don't worry. The last time you came back from a gambling joint, you were wearing a barrel Never mind. With a belt in the back. I went north towards Columbus Circle and started asking questions in different small hotels, as well as some of the big ones. It took that afternoon and the better part of the evening. Finally, I got the address of Ricky Temple's latest hideout. What do you want? Ricky Temple be around. Who? You, buster? I want to see Temple. He's an old friend. Temple ain't got no friends. And say, ain't you Steve Granger? Suppose I am. Blow. We don't want private snoops around smells up the joint. I'll teach you to mind your adverbs, mister. Now move aside. I don't think so. All right, Granger. What's the routine for? Came up to see you, Ricky. Your butler hasn't learned his manners yet. He was told to keep out the characters. You were a character, but I'm in. Okay, you're in. How much do you want to keep your mouth zippered? You got the wrong man, Ricky. I'm not up here looking for a quick buck. I'll spit it out then. I'm busy inside. I'll take $30,000 worth of diamond necklace that belongs to Mrs. David Hartnett. Don't be silly, Granger. You've got it. She wants it. Good night, snoop. The door is open. And I just ran out of time. There's a killing mixed up in this, Ricky. No, there isn't. You haven't read the papers. Mrs. Hartnett's brother was shot and killed. When the police find out about that necklace, they're gonna get inquisitive about you. You sure about this? Would I be here if I were kidding? Here's a paper I picked up. Take a look. Sammy. Beat it. Okay, inside. What's the game? Be sure I get my percentage right. Come inside and shut the door. I'm invited to stay a while, huh? I just want you to get something clear in your mind. I have not got the necklace. That puts you on a spot. Suppose I pull out 3500 clams and ask you to hand it over? Well, come on, Ricky. Tell me the rest of the story. What happened to the necklace? I. I don't think I'll say anymore. Let Mrs. Swartnet come over. I'll talk to her. You'll talk to me, or I'll get police headquarters on the phone. I'll tip them two ways. One, about the necklace, second, about this. You'd spill, huh? I would. When the study grand where the life's concerned, plots a killing. Maybe. Maybe I ought to call my mouthpiece. He'd Know what to do. Cut the chatter. Haven't got a lawyer, and you know it. Look, look, Granger, I don't know what the play is, see, But I. I got a couple details. Maybe they'll help you get back the necklace, huh? I'd better get it back, or you and I will tangle with a cop looking in. Okay, okay. I'll tell you what I know now, you see. Hey, yo. Hold it. I'll continue with this interesting story in a minute. As the door opened and the two shots reverberated through the room, Ricky Temple dropped to the floor. I snapped a fast shot at the figure in the doorway, saw him clutch at his shoulder and then beat it. I tried to head after him, but was stopped by Ricky's outsider, Sammy. By the time I persuaded him to let me go and to call the cops, the customers in the other room had vanished quicker than snowflakes in a heat wave. Then the Police arrived with Lt. Mike Harding in charge. Well, gumshoe mixed up in another shooting, huh? Yeah. Harding. Who is he? Ricky Temple. He'll never be missed. I suppose you start talking about now. I told Harding what I knew about the killing. One of his men found a gun which had been dropped in the hall. Well, that's something, I guess. I'll have ballistics go over the gun for Prince. Yeah, I'll check with you later in the day, Mike. Where'll you be? In my office or at Cal Hendricks place. Okay, Granger. You'll hear from me. Well, this is flattering, Steve. Two visits in one day. Not your hardened visage I'm interested in. You know David Hartnett, the theatrical producer? Is he the one who owned the missing diamond necklace? He bought it for his wife. I found Ricky Chappell, by the way. Find out anything? He just started to open up for me when somebody cooled him. Harding is taking his body down to the morgue. Seems to me that Temple was fronting for someone. He must have had a Boss name on. McHenricks. Harold Dixon. Dixon? Didn't occur to me he'd have a finger in this pie. More than one finger, I imagine. Hmm. Yeah, I just can't browse over to his spot and accuse him of being in with Ricky Temple. Oh, no. Excuse me. Hendrix speaking. This is Harding, Homicide. Is Steve Granger around there? Hendricks? Yeah. Yeah, Harding, down at headquarters. Thanks. Hello? Granger, the lab man checked that gun and came up with something. What? The gun was registered to a hood named Nick Farrelli. You know him? No. He works for Harold Dixon. We've Got out a pickup on Farelli. Thanks Harding. I'll check you later. So long. What goes, Steve? You were right about Harold Dixon. Uh huh. I'd give four to one it involves more than 3,500 bucks. I left California dug Mrs. David Hartnett's address out of a coat pocket, hailed a cab and went over. She greeted me at the door.