Gumshoe

All over the city, it was an ordinary day for most people.

My name's Eddie Ginley,

a small-time bingo caller wanting to be a big somebody.

That day was my 31st birthday.

I could have been home blowing out my candles,

instead of which I was helping my psychiatrist keep count of my marbles.

The count was going slow.

It's your turn, Doc.

I can't think of anything to say.

Well, you should say, "Think. What about your mother?

"Did you tap pencils when you were a lad?"

I'm not a Freudian, Eddie.

I know, Doc. A job, a few potatoes, like the next gazebo.

How's the act coming?

Fabulous. I top the bill.

Okay, so I announce the bingo. Is it a crime?

Eddie, what do you want to do?

You've asked me that question for a year.

But you haven't answered for a year.

I want to write The Maltese Falcon,

I want to record Blue Suede Shoes,

and I want to play Las Vegas.

They've done the first two.

That's the rumor.

Eddie. What?

Do you know what? What?

You're a bloody nut.

I owe it all to you, Doc.

What's this?

I'm advertising.

Ironing can be fun.

I've been on my own for about a year,

ever since my best girl ran off with somebody else.

Somebody like my brother. That's why I ended up with a psychiatrist.

That's why I ran the advert in the paper.

Somebody had to give me a present. That's what birthdays are for.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING ON HEADPHONES)

The Ginley residence.

One moment. I'll see if he's in.

Ginley. What is it? Yeah?

No, I can't hear you.

What? Hang on, I've got a pencil.

Okay, shoot, but you're gonna have to speak up.

Yeah? Yeah.

Okay.

Plaza Hotel, room 322, 7:30.

I got to the Plaza at 7:25. I had it all figured.

The guys were throwing a surprise party for me,

and they'd picked a classy joint.

It was the kind of place where the Axminster tickles your knees

and you need a black tie to take a bath.

Come in. Come in!

41? 41.

Shut the door.

Do they charge you extra for the light?

Shut up.

I'm just trying to make small talk, mister.

It's not needed.

Make your play.

To the right.

There's a dresser with a package on it.

Got it?

Sure.

What's the pitch? Pitch?

The job. It's all in the package.

And the folding green? What?

The money, $20 a day plus expenses.

Twenty dollars?

Twenty little lonely dollars.

We agreed sterling.

I can live with it.

What are you waiting for?

I was just going.

We want results.

Broad at the shoulder, narrow at the hip,

and everyone knows you don't give no lip to Big Ed.

I hadn't got a good look at the fellow,

but if the guys had hired him to give me the present, he'd done a good job.

It gets around that you read thrillers,

and pretty soon, everyone's coming on like they were packing a rod.

But thoughts like that could wait. I was late for the club.

* Take good care of my baby

* Please don't ever make her cry

Eddie! The Plaza telephone number?

Where the hell have you been?

Tommy, the Plaza phone number?

Maritime 5050. Where the hell have you been?

* Just send my baby back home *

Where the hell did you get to? Bloody show...

Eddie, your customers. They're waiting.

Eddie, I'll listen for your phone call.

Oh, you're lovely. Come on. Get on, then.

And no funny business. Just announce the act.

Hey, Sammy, get them in.

The teeth, get them in. Where do you think you are, anyway?

Will you shut up?

Now, folks, if you ever wondered what killed the big bands,

you'll soon know as we have, led by your host, Tommy Wright,

The Saturated Seven!

Bloody bugger!

Hello? Yeah? The Plaza?

Room 322, please.

Well, could you give me reception?

Yes.

I picked up a parcel from somebody in room 322,

and I wanted to give it him back, but I've forgotten his name.

What? Half an hour ago?

No, it was a fella! Mrs. Blankerscoon?

Well, could you spell that, please?

Mrs. Blankerscoon? Okay.

Mrs. Blankerscoon.

Eddie. Interval. What?

Interval, Eddie. Come on. The customers are waiting.

Come on. Yeah, yeah, Tommy.

Come here, you. Your teeth. Get the buggers in, will you?

How can I? The wife's got them.

You'll never do your turn here, I'll tell you.

Okay, folks, we'll take a break now

so eat and drink as if there was no tomorrow.

In 15 minutes, bingo, so get your brains and pencils sharpened.

Listen, Eddie, come here.

You're always pestering me to let you do a spot.

All right, I'll tell you what. Tomorrow.

If I let you do your act tomorrow,

do you think you could be early just once?

Yeah, Tommy.

Right. Early tomorrow gets Eddie a spot.

Understand? Terrific.

Eddie. Yeah.

All I ask, son, is be a pro. Be a pro like us.

A spot, eh? Yeah.

Next day, on your dressing room, they'll hang a star.

Or something like that.

Oh! By the way, Tommy! Yep?

You wouldn't give a feller 1,000 pounds for his birthday, would you?

You what? Forget it, Tommy.

I'll come early.

Who are you?

I live here.

You wanna hear anything special?

Play Melancholy Baby.

How does that go again?

How the hell did you get in here?

Come rain or hail or sleet or snow, the Pinkertons are on the go.

What's your handle? How do you mean?

What do I call you? You decide.

Hello, sister-in-law. Hello, Eddie.

Hello, Ellen. Where's William? Out.

You married the wrong brother, kid.

I wouldn't leave you alone to be threatened in this manner.

I didn't get a better offer.

They were frontier towns, old partner, and it was a game of take and give,

and the one who could draw the fastest was the only one who'd live.

You haven't changed.

I know, and I'm a year older.

Oh, yes. Happy birthday. Thanks.

We haven't got your present yet.

Oh! You haven't?

Drink? Mmm. Bourbon on the rocks.

Milk and sugar? Mmm-hmm.

Have you come to see William?

William?

Listen, if William was dying, the priest wouldn't come and see him.

I say, I say, I say.

How's the club?

You hear everything, don't you?

That's the trouble with these small burgs.

Everyone knows everyone else's business.

Well, how is it?

Okay.

And you're doing what you want to do, aren't you?

Okay, it's great. The club's great.

It's opened a whole new field of unemployment to me.

Do they laugh at you?

Yeah. Yeah, they laugh at me.

I wish they'd laugh at me jokes.

I know it's a bit late to ask, but do you use that to stir your tea?

Stick 'em up.

Same old Eddie.

It's a real one, you know.

Even you're too old to be playing with a toy one.

Put it away. Same old Ellen.

How's the psychiatry?

You do hear everything, don't you? Mmm.

It's okay. I may have to get a new one, though.

Psychiatrist? Why?

He's off his head.

Why didn't you come to the wedding?

I was waiting for the second house.

No second house.

I sent a telegram.

"To William, the best man lost. Congratulations, schmuck. Eddie."

I told the post office "schmuck" was Latin for "love."

What is a schmuck?

The guy you married.

He didn't like it.

He's got no sense of humor.

Do you think I have?

Why else would you marry him?

The brother grim.