The Ghost Breakers

Hello, operator? Operator?

Operator, the lights in my room.

What? The lightning?

Well, do you suppose you could send up some sort of light?

I'm leaving for Cuba tonight and I still have packing to do.

Well, thank you.

The entire hotel's in darkness.

They're sending up some candles.

The lights are out all over the city.

New York has had many storms, but never has the whole place gone dark.

It's very strange.

Exciting, isn't it?

Oh, that must be the boy.

Oh. I hope these will help, Ms. Carter.

They will. Thanks. We expect to have the lights on soon.

Oh, that'll be fine.

Hold it, sister.

Just like Christmas, ain't it?

More like the Fourth of July.

Yeah.

Nice night for a murder.

How did you know?

I didn't. I didn't!

I just said it would be a nice night for one.

One flash of lightning

and we're practically back in the Middle Ages.

You'll have to get used to candles, Ms. Carter.

There's no electricity on Black Island.

The castle today is exactly as your great-great-grandfather built it.

You mean, the ghosts have to find their way around in the dark?

How depressing.

Oh, so you know the stories about Castillo Maldito?

Mother told me about it.

She also told me about Santa Claus, Snow White and the seven dwarfs.

Unfortunately, the legends about the castle are not bedtime stories.

Oh, Mr. Havez, I believe you're trying to discourage me.

Well, I suppose as a member of the Cuban consulate,

I should paint the castle as a palm-fringed paradise.

But, privately, Ms. Carter, I advise you to stay away from Black Island.

Oh, come now. You don't believe in ghosts.

We must admit there is a dividing line somewhere

between superstition and the supernatural.

All I know is that during the last 20 years,

no human being who has tried to spend a night in Castillo Maldito

ever lived to see a sunrise.

I bet I will.

Very well. I shall cable that you are coming.

Who's there?

It's Kelly. Raspy Kelly.

Speak up. I can't hear you in the dark.

Come on, push that button. I don't wanna be here all night. I'm in a hurry.

But Mr. Lawrence ain't got time to talk to nobody tonight.

Alex!

Just a minute. I is coming, boss. Oh.

Thunder and lightning going...

What a night, and ain't nobody don't want me.

Mr. Lawrence's domicile.

Who's calling?

Broadcasting station?

Just a minute. He's getting dressed.

No, no, not you. Wait a minute.

Ouch! Will you quit buzzing there?

Do you by any chance know where I put my pants?

How lovely! Alex.

Alex.

I is coming.

Look, give me the candle and you fall over the furniture for a while.

Yes, sir.

Basil Rathbone must be giving a party.

Yes, sir.

Kind of rough, isn't it?

You know, Alex, every time we have a storm like this,

something happens to me.

You remember that Greek girl in Los Angeles?

I sure do.

Mmm, I don't like it.

I don't like it either.

Who was that on the phone?

Radio station, boss.

They said don't pay any attention to the storm

'cause they's gonna use some kind of auxiliary power.

"Aux," what?

They mean you'll go on the air at the regular time.

Well, did they get a positive okay from heaven?

I don't know.

If that's Raspy Kelly, I owe him some money.

Well, from the tone of his inflections, you better pay him.

And that dame in Cincinnati. Boy, what a storm that was.

Hiya, Larry. Hiya, Raspy.

Say, get my hat and coat, will ya, Alex?

Yes, sir.

Say, here's that 50 for that Frenchy Duval story.

Thanks. When you gonna spill it over the air?

In just about 30 minutes.

Yeah?

How can they broadcast on a night like this?

They'd manage to stay on the air if the world was coming to an end.

They would, eh?

You don't mind, do you? No.

Thanks. I got another one for you. Even better.

It's about Machine Gun Marky.

Oh, really? Is it hot up to the minute?

Is it hot? Wait'll you hear it.

He's driving his car, see?

Another car comes along, runs him into a ditch.

Marky gets all smashed up.

When did it happen?

Well, I can't tell you exactly, but it'll probably be tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Yeah. Well, so long.

Hey, Raspy, wait a minute.

Does your mob know you're giving me these stories?

Oh, don't worry. But anytime you get...

Don't shout.

Anytime you get too gabby on the air,

the boys just tune you out.

But they don't mind a little publicity. They kind of like it.

I know. I plug them or they'll plug me.

You get the idea.

Raspy, you don't mean... Now, listen.

Have you got a match or a blowtorch? Alex, where are you?

Right next to you, boss.

Oh, you look like a black out in a blackout.

This keeps up, I'm gonna have to paint you white.

Oh, that's better. Where's Raspy?

I heard a door slam.

You did?

Better get going, Mr. Larry.

Yeah.

You know, you sure do keep me worried.

Oh, don't be silly. I'm in great shape, for the shape I'm in.

I know, but a lot of folks don't like you, boss.

I expect some of these mornings when I come to get you out of the bed,

I'll have to pull the sheet up instead of down.

Well, you can stop worrying for the next four weeks.

Finish packing my bags and pick me up right after the broadcast.

Yes, sir.

Tomorrow we'll be up in those trout streams.

Don't forget your muffler.

Ah, that's the life.

Those great open spaces, fresh mountain air.

Go to the window at 6:00 in the morning,

open it, climb in and go to bed.

Ah, life, love and the pursuit of happiness.

Remember that redhead in Poughkeepsie?

Well, don't be late.

Yes, sir.

Getting up 6:00 in the morning, climbing in and out of windows.

If only you had some relative to go with you.

Don't worry about me. Poor working girl, honest but tough.

I can take care of myself.

That must be him now.

Come in, Mr. Parada.

I'm sorry to be late.

Oh, am I intruding?

Not at all. This is Mr. Havez of the Cuban consulate.

This is Mr. Parada.

How do you do?

I presume you are here to witness the transfer

of the estates to our charming friend?

Yes, as a matter of routine.

Very well. Here are all the rights and titles

to the Castillo Maldito on Black Island,

and to the island itself.

I am sure you will find them all in good order.

And here, my dear, is your transportation to Havana,

if you still care to use it.

Well, outside of the ghosts, are there any new reasons why I shouldn't sail tonight?

Now, maybe this is a good reason.

I just received this cablegram giving me the authority

to offer you $50,000 for your castle.

$50,000!

This doesn't make sense.

Why should anyone offer so much for a castle full of secondhand spooks?

Who's making the offer, Mr. Parada?

I'm sorry, I'm not at liberty to tell you that.

Excuse me.

Hello. Yes.

You don't know me, Ms. Carter.

My name is Mederos. Ramon Mederos.

I want to warn you against selling your castle to Parada.

What did you say?

Well, I...

I can't see you right now. Where are you?

I'm in the hotel. When may I see you?

In 20 minutes?

I'll be there.

In the meantime, be cautious.

Everything's in regular order, I'd say. Thank you.

And now if you will witness the transfer with your signature, Señor Havez.

Just a record for me to have in case anything should happen to Ms. Carter.

Thank you.

The Castillo Maldito is now your property.

Oh, what do you wish to do about that offer?

Well, must I decide now, this minute?

After all, anything over $4 calls for deep thought on my part.

Take your time, my dear, until sailing time.

Thank you.

I hope you'll change your mind.

I'll be in my room down the hall

if you wish to reach me. All right.