The Mob

Well, what do you think?

These look like they were mined with a toothpick.

You said you wanted something for around $150, Johnny.

Yeah, but these look like samples.

Would you like something for around two-fifty?

I'll tell ya, I'd like something for around five hundred,

but I only wanna pay a hundred and fifty for it.

-These, they look more like it. -(DRAWER OPENING)

Six hundred and eighty-five.

How much off for the police force?

Why should I knock off anything just because you're a policeman?

Thought you might wanna try and bribe me.

I'm always readin' about cops being bribed.

I've got more influential friends than you in the Boy Scouts.

Ah, come on, Fred, make me a deal.

You know Mary, you oughta cut the price in half.

I've known Mary since she was eight years old,

and the price is still six hundred and eighty-five bucks.

-How do you sleep at night, Fred? -Just fine, thanks.

How much, cash?

How much you got?

-About three hundred. -It's yours.

Wrap it up.

Stay back!

All right, drop it.

Don't turn, just drop it.

I'm Lieutenant Henderson, 21st Precinct.

My badge is in my right pocket.

Get it out.

Toss it back here.

Okay, Lieutenant.

I'm Johnny Damico, detective third, from the 6th Precinct.

Who's the pigeon?

Tony Rogers. He shot up one of my men about two hours ago.

-Hey, what's happening? -You got a phone?

-Yeah. I'll call in, Damico.

All right, get outta here. Go on, get out.

What happened?

-All right. Get back, get back. -What is it?

You, too, nosy. Or did you shoot this guy?

No. Lieutenant Henderson shot him.

He's callin' in. I'm Johnny Damico, 6th Precinct.

-Gerrity, Bill Gerrity. Is he...? -Yeah, he sure is.

-Hey, you made good time. -What's up?

Just a small killing.

Funny nothing came over the radio on this.

What do you mean, nothing came over? How'd you get here?

We were just cruising.

-(DISPATCHER ON RADIO) -Call it in. I'll be right back.

Hey, what's goin' on out there?

Where's the man that just came in here to make the phone call?

-Phone call? -Yeah.

-Big fella, trench coat, black hair. -Oh, him.

He just walked in the front door and went out the back.

Lieutenant Banks.

-Lieutenant Banks. -Lieutenant, this is Damico.

-Yeah? -I'm at a shooting on West 63rd.

It just came in over the radio. What are you doing there?

I saw the whole thing.

Big fella shot a little fella, and I pulled a gun on him.

-In the best tradition. -Well, he flashed a badge,

said he was Lieutenant Henderson, 21st Precinct.

Little fella was Tony Rogers, and he'd just killed a cop.

I searched the dead guy. He was carrying identification.

Edward Jensen, 1911 Inland Avenue.

-What's that name again? -Edward Jensen.

Where is this Lieutenant Henderson?

He jumped into a lunch room to phone. I find out he went out the back door.

Johnny, you're kidding!

I know it sounds like a bonehead play, Lieutenant,

but the badge he flashed was the McCoy,

and he was carrying a police revolver.

Get down here right away, Johnny.

Is it bad?

Right away, Johnny.

Okay.

And you even hand him back his gun. Why didn't you give him train fare?

But I'm tellin' you that badge was real! You couldn't fool me with a tin job.

Sure, it was real.

It was taken off the body of Lieutenant Meary

by the guy who murdered him three hours before.

I didn't hear about any killin'. I was off duty.

You know who Edward Jensen was?

-No. -You should.

Jensen was a principal witness

in the Grand Jury investigation of the waterfront rackets.

Lieutenant Meary was a special investigator assigned on that case.

The guy with the badge?

Your description is the same as Meary gave us, just before he died.

I shoulda gone fishing.

I called the Commissioner and the District Attorney

while you were on your way down.

They wanna see you tomorrow morning.

Pretty upset?

Don't count on your pension.

Well, the Army's always waiting.

I'll do what I can, Johnny.

Thanks.

-Where are you going? -1 got a date with Mary.

Not any more. I've got an artist waiting to work with you.

See if you can't get something that looks like your pal.

Well, that won't take long. I'll phone her.

And I don't want you to leave here tonight.

-But why hang around? -That's an order.

We'll go to the Commissioner's office together in the morning.

Okay.

Weight, approximately 160 pounds.

Height, approximately five feet eleven.

This is gonna be a big help!

I'm sorry, Commissioner, it was the best I could do.

It was dark, and raining, and after he showed me the badge,

I didn't pay too much attention to him.

You should be back patrolling vacant lots.

A man commits a murder right in front of your own eyes.

You tip your hat, shine his shoes,

and send him off with his hot little gun still in his hands!

-You're suspended for sixty days. -Yes, sir.

That's only for publication, however.

Instead of actually suspending you,

we're gonna give you a chance to get yourself killed.

We want this man awfully bad.

And I'm stuck with you, because you're the only one

who knows anything about what he looks like.

No record?

No record, no pictures, no prints, no anything.

Meary gave us the name Blackie Clegg.

Our boys have been hearing the name around the waterfront

the last couple of weeks.

Sit down, Damico.

Yes, sir.

What do you know about this waterfront setup?

Very little, sir.

I'm not surprised at that.

But, anyway, your job is to bring in Blackie Clegg.

I think we should brief him, just for background,

but Radford can handle the racket end.

About three months ago, the union came to us, and asked our help

in getting rid of the racketeers who worked their way into the waterfront.

Meary, who was killed last night,

and Radford here, were assigned to the case.

How do the rackets work? -They got a hundred angles.

Kickbacks from everybody workin' on the docks.

Highly organised thefts from loadings and unloadings

that bring 'em in about fifty million a year.

Contributions. I could go on for hours.

We began getting withesses from the truckmen,

the steamship lines, and the longshoremen.

Enough to convene a Grand Jury and start presenting evidence.

Then they evidently sent out some new boy to take over.

Things began to tighten up, but we still had enough to go ahead.

-Jensen was our prize witness. -And Meary was one of our best men.

How far had Meary gotten?

I don't know for sure. We were working separately.

But pretty near the top, I guess. He scared somebody.

This Blackie Clegg, he's the new boss?

That's what Meary said.

You don't have anything on him?

We know someone who might be able to identify him.

-Who's that? -You.

-How do I work? -We'll get everything set up for you.

You will be Tim Flynn, a middle-sized crook from New Orleans.

We'll have the New Orleans Police phoney up a record for you

in case anybody checks.

What have I done?

A few misdemeanours, and a manslaughter rap.

We'll arrange for you to fly to New Orleans tonight.

Get aboard a boat, work your way back up here.

It'll take about a week.

Make sure you're noticed plenty on that boat.

These boys probably check on anything they think looks suspicious.

Yell for all the help you need, and keep reporting in.

Another man can pick up, in case you're knocked off.

That's a cheery thought.

It's no stroll in the park.

And don't forget, Damico,

Clegg saw as much of you last night as you did of him.

Already thought of that, Commissioner. Also thought of somethin' else.

There's another guy got a better look at him last night than I did.

-Who's that? -The lunchroom proprietor.

He won't be much help.

We picked him up dead in an alley at four o'clock this morning.

Clegg's a little gun happy, isn't he?

Remember that when you're prowling around late at night.

Yes, sir.

Whose picture is that?

That? Oh, that's old Heathcliffe Damico, he's an uncle of mine.

He operates a string of girdle factories at Pompton Lakes.

-Look, I'm not really suspended. -Well, then why the story?

Detective mumbo jumbo.

Your friends'll know that isn't your picture.

I'm not expecting any trouble from my friends.

-It's late, I've gotta get back. -Wait a minute.

It's beautiful, Johnny.

The budget must've groaned and cracked a little.

I just sold some of my oil interests, and there it was.

-Oh, I love it! -Good.

Do I see you later tonight?

No, Mary. As a matter of fact, maybe not for a couple of weeks.

Why?

Well, I have to go underground.