Family Plot (1976)

[bunniefuu]

Someone is here.

Not closely.

Not willingly.

I feel they're

holding back.

What's the trouble, Henry?

Too many memories, too much pain.

Too much sorrow.

Whoever is there with you,

tell them to

speak up, Henry.

Tell them

to come closer.

I think I know who

it is, Madame Blanche.

I think I know

what's bothering her.

Her, is it?

Never you mind,

Miss Rainbird.

I won't have you doing

Henry's work for him.

Now, let's have it,

my love.

That's why


we're here tonight.

To help my friend

be rid of her torment.

She has a right to rest her weary head

on a pillow each night

and sleep the peaceful

sleep of the angels.

How did you know about

my troubled sleep?

Who told you?

Her nights cannot go on


like this much longer.

I never told a soul about my nightmares.

How could you...

Who is this person who arrives

in our presence tonight

but does not dare

to come close to us?

It's her.

It's my sister Harriet.

It must be.

She stays


her distance, Julia Rainbird,

for she does not feel your love

or your kindness yet.

There is selfishness

where you are.

I've had all

I can take from her.

Night after night,

coming into my dreams.

Whining, complaining,


trying to make me feel guilty.

As though I need her to

tell me right from wrong.

Tell her I know

what has to be done.

I've been wanting

to do it for a year.

But it is I, Julia Rainbird,

who has made the decision.

I don't need her


to goad me on!

They're making me ill with their

ugly words in my ugly dreams.

Tell her to stop it,

to go away and leave me alone.

No, no. No, no. Don't let her go.

Don't let her go away.

Harriet? Harriet,

stay with us, Harriet.

Your sister wants


to speak to you now

from the depths

of her soul.

What's wrong?

What is it?

She says, "I've waited so long

to hear from you, Julia.

"I've been so unhappy

without you."

It is you, Harriet.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I should never have

made you do it.

It's all past now,

but I'll do what I can

to make up for it.

If he's still alive,

I'll find your son.

And I'll take him in

my arms and love him

as if I were you,

my poor Harriet.

And I'll make him

one of us

and give him everything,

everything.

Far away.

So far, far away.

But I need her.

I need her help.

I can't do it alone.

You see,

I need her memory.

It's over 40 years ago,

and I don't know where the child

was taken or who it was given to.

I don't know where he is now

or who he is.

The true measure

of Julia Rainbird's love

lies in what

she does now

with your help, of course,

and mine,

and that of the dear,

departed one

who has drifted

so far from us.

We understand him.

Don't we,

Miss Rainbird?

Oh, yes. Yes, I do.

I'm willing to do anything,

anything at all.

In the end,

there will be happiness.

From the tears

of the past,

the desert of the heart

will bloom.

Goodbye, Julia Rainbird!

Goodbye, Blanche.

Goodbye.

Madame Blanche,

are you all right?

It was...

What in the world's

been going on here?

I feel as though

I've been properly done over.

Don't you remember

what happened?

Mmm-mmm.

Not the details,

Miss Rainbird,

only the gist,

if you know what I mean.

Suppose you give me

the gist of it.

Well, I wonder...

Could I trouble you for a sip

of something? Just...

Oh, of course.

What would you like?

Oh, a double shot

of anything.

A spot of that sherry

might be nice.

Yes, of course.

Thank you.

Now, tell me what you remember

of the séance.

- In a nutshell?

- Please.

About 40 years ago,

you arranged

to have your sister Harriet's

baby given away without a trace.

And now, your bad dreams

and a troubled conscience tell you

to find the grown-up person,

take him into the family,

and bestow

your wealth on him.

Excellent.

Thank you.

And why did I force my sister

to give the child away?

I guess the kid was illegitimate,

Miss Rainbird.

I don't want you to think me

a puritan, Madame Blanche.

But 40 years ago,

an unmarried mother

was not the commonplace

it is nowadays.

And in a family

like ours,

a scandal had to be

covered up at all costs.

I understand.

And I'm still

sufficiently old-fashioned

and sufficiently protective

of the Rainbird name

to want to seek

the missing heir

in a private

and secret fashion,

rather than go to

detective agencies

and put notices

in the newspapers.

Most wise decision,

Miss Rainbird.

Well, now, suppose we get to the reason

for my sending for you.

I'm 78 years of age.

I would like to go to my grave

with a quiet conscience.

Particularly as I know that my only heir

is out there somewhere,

deprived by my acts of

his true Rainbird name.

Will you help me

with your powers?

If in your heart

you believe that I can,

then I owe it to both of us

to try, Miss Rainbird.

No, I'm too old

for trying.

I've only time enough left

for results.

Find him for me,

Madame Blanche.

Use your spirit-control,

your Henry.

Get through

to my sister.

Find her son, whoever he is,

wherever he is,

and I'll pay you $10,000.

Only if you genuinely

wish to, Miss Rainbird.

But let's not think of this as

a payment to me.

There are many causes

dear to my heart

which need all the charity

the world can spare.

You've no idea how refreshing it is

for a woman of my wealth

to find someone who has

so little use for money.

Thank you.

Well, now, I regard

our arrangement as completed.

It's my bedtime.

I must take leave of

your delightful company.

This has been a most memorable evening

for me, Miss Rainbird.

See to it that

you make it a rewarding one.

At the risk of

repeating myself,

I hope you will not

forget that nobody,

absolutely no one,

should know of our search.

The Rainbird name

must be protected.

My jaw is locked.

On that note, I will say goodbye

and thank you for coming.

So, how'd it go?

I don't know. Having to

do Henry is m*rder on my throat.

m*rder.

Yeah, yeah. I know.

So how did it go?

She's hooked,

waiting to be pulled in.

Another one of

your $25 sardines?

No. This is

a big one, George.

A great big whale.

Well, come on. Give.

Keep your eyes on the road.

Don't rush me.

Okay, Blanchie.

Start way up

at the top.

Well, it was

as simple as ABC.

Henry came to me from

the upper brightness,

whispered to me, "This woman's been

having sleep problems."

From there on, things followed

naturally, logically.

Aha! So I came through for you again,

didn't I, darling?

No. What are you

talking about, George?

What do you mean,

what am I talking about?

You know damn well

what I'm talking about.

All that information that I dug up

by gabbing to the local druggist

about how she was

driving him crazy

trying to get sleeping pills

without a prescription.

That could have been

very, very useful to me.

Why didn't you

tell me about that?

What do you mean, why didn't I tell you?

I told you.

You know damn well

I told you, Blanche.

No, you always think you tell me things,

and you forget to.

I have to go through

heaven and hell,

the great beyond,

with Henry.

Henry, my a*s.

It was me.

It's always me.

Without my research, you're about

as psychic as a dry salami.

Nasty. Nasty, nasty.

I'm sick and tired of having you

have me by the crystal ba*ls.

Leave your crystal ba*ls

out of this, George.

No, let's leave Henry

out of this

and keep the bullshit

for your customers.

You're jealous of him,

aren't you?

Oh, please, Blanche.

I like your jealousy.

It's your driving that stinks.

Hey, look. I happen to be

an actor, not a cab driver.

I can play cab drivers, but I sure

as hell don't have to drive like one.

Well, until I can collect

from Julia Rainbird,

I'm afraid you're gonna have to

go on playing a cab driver.

Neither of us seems to be very fond

of starving to death.

Well, how are we

supposed to collect?

How much is this Rainbird whale

gonna spout up?

Also, you're gonna have to go on

playing a private eye.

Christ, no! I've had it

playing private eyes.

Christ, yes.

Now, George.

Stop blaspheming.

You wanna put the curse

on 10 big ones?

Now, wait a minute,

Blanche.

Did you say

10 big ones?

Mmm-hmm.

- Ten thousand?

- Mmm-hmm.

Dollars?

Dollars, George.

Now, Blanche, you got any idea what you

and I could do with 10 grand?

Mmm-hmm. We could

even get married.

What are you always

a wet blanket for?

Oh, you flatter me so.

Well, what's the deal?

What do we have to do for the money?

I'll tell you about it

in bed, afterwards.

Aw, come on, Blanche.

Give me a hint.

Just a little foreplay.

All right. Find one man.

That's all.

Well, we've had to do worse

than that. What's his name?

Hmm.

Nobody knows.

Well, who is he?

That's the problem.

Nobody knows.

Where is he?

Nobody knows.

Well, for Christ's sake!

You mean, nobody knows, Blanche?

Nobody knows his name,

or where he is, or who he is?

Well, George,

stop yelling.

There's a possibility of one person

who might have known.

Well, who's that?

Julia Rainbird didn't

mention him to me.

Fortunately, her friend

Ida Cookson did.

Well, who is it?

The Rainbird

family chauffeur.

Well, now you're talking.

Now we're on our way.

Trouble is, well,

he's been dead

for 25 years.

Oh, for Christ's sake,

Blanche...

No, no, no, no, no,

don't start to fret, George,

or our water bed will be

no fun at all tonight.

As an actor, you should know fretting

will ruin a performance.

You're not gonna have to worry

about my performance tonight, honey.

As a matter of fact,

on this very evening,

you're gonna see

a standing ovation.

She's here.

No, not a man.

It's a woman. Right.

Follow me.

As long as you've got Victor Constantine,

we can't touch you.

So you might as well

put that thing away.

You've been calling yourself

The Trader, so we thought you were a man.

I think we deserve some assurance

that the victim is still alive.

All radios have been removed

from the helicopter as you instructed.

"Mr. Constantine

will be unconscious

"but in perfect condition

when picked up.

"Just let him

sleep the drug off."

All right, Sergeant,

turn on the lights.

Don't try and be a hero.

Yes, sir.

Well, we've done our part.

Where are we going?

Not one

g*dd*mn mistake.

How far are we going?

It's lucky for you

that you still got the victim.

I'd like nothing better than to toss you

right out of this thing on your head.

You sure have this

little trip mapped out, don't you?

I bet that thing

isn't even loaded.

Golf course, huh?

Brilliant.

Absolutely perfect.

My feet are k*lling me.

These damn six-inch heels.

I happen to like

tall women.

Everybody likes

tall women.

In fact, everyone's going

to be looking for a tall woman.

Aside from

complaining a lot,

what have you been doing

with yourself lately?

Oh, nothing much. Picking up

a ransom, that sort of thing.

Did you see

anyone we know?

Two men who looked like police

and a third who just had to be FBI.

You mix with

the nicest people.

Beats housework.

Did you say

anything to them?

Not a syllable.

Now, you see, honey?

I told you you could learn

to keep your mouth shut if you tried.

Look who's here.

Has anyone seen a tall,

blonde woman around here lately?

Gone, poof!

Who needs her?

I do.

At least

one more time.

Let me put that

there, darling.

Mr. Constantine

has left us some wine.

I don't think he likes

the imported stuff.

It was probably

my veal parmesan.

I'm afraid

I overcooked it.

He likes eating in a room

with a view. That's all.

You know how fussy

rich people are.

Don't forget to

empty that out.

Don't you think

emptying a chemical toilet

is a little below the dignity

of a jewel collector?

The wages of sin, Arthur.

I'll do it tomorrow.

Never put off

till tomorrow

what you can

empty out tonight.

b*tch.

Arthur, what's

Amsterdam like?

Oh, lots of canals.

Lots of wizened old men

with sharp eyes

sitting around, cutting big stones

into little ones.

You'll see.

I don't know what's come over me tonight.

I'm tingling all over.

I told you about danger,

didn't I?

First,

it makes you sick.

Then when you get through it,

it makes you very, very loving.

Darling...

Hmm?

It was all too easy.

It's frightening.

Brilliant planning.

They don't have

a single lead to follow.

What about the ketamine

we stuck him with?

Well, if Dr. Vogel didn't miss it

six months ago

when I had my wisdom tooth out,

he's not gonna miss it now.

Don't finish up in there.

Let's go to bed.

Tired?

Mmm-mmm.

Tingling all over.

How'd I ever let you

get me into all this?

I thought I fell in love with you because

I needed some stability in my life.

Well, I guess you're just a bad

judge of character.

Where'd you put

the diamond, dear?

Where everyone

can see it.

- You didn't.

- I did.

Are you gonna

tell me where?

You'll have to

t*rture me first.

Oh!

I intend to

in a few minutes.

Now with all due respect to the FBI

and the Bureau of Inspectors,

I have no time

to play games.

Now lest we forget,

gentlemen,

I have been away

from this desk forcibly.

I've got a lot of work

to catch up on.

Now how many more times are we

gonna go through this g*dd*mn thing?

Until we come up with something,

Mr. Constantine.

That's a hell of a way

to solve a kidnapping.

Mr. Constantine, you're not

the first victim, you know.

There have been others.

All right, all right. But from me,

you'll learn absolutely nothing.

- You never know.

- I know.

All right. Floyd?

Now, the underground garage.

Full of cars.

Sounds?

People behind me.

Was it a man,

or was it a woman?

I don't know.

Man or woman?

- Man.

- Then what?

There was a prick

in my shoulder.

I started to turn,

and I woke up in a room.

Yes, and what did you hear,

inside or outside?

The room was

soundproofed.

I never heard anything except

a disembodied voice over a loudspeaker.

Describe it.

But I've already done that.

Again.

It was the voice of a man,

no accent.

Doctored up electronically.

Unrecognizable.

How many of them

were there?

Two, a man and a woman.

Why do you say that?

Because the faintest light filtered down

from the hallway above.

But not enough to give me a chance

to see who they were.

- Yes, and who did the cooking?

- She did.

Why?

Because a man

would not bother

to put the parsley on the filet

of sole. That's why.

How old is she?

Come on now. Please.

- How old is she?

- 25.

- Why?

- Why?

Because if a man my age is

gonna get kidnapped by a woman,

he wants her to be 25.

That's why.

Describe your return.

The return.

The disembodied voice tells me to sit

with my back to the door.

The light goes out. The door opens.

They both come in.

I feel a prick

in my left arm.

The next thing I know,

I wake up in that hospital bed

with you sitting there,

thinking up questions!

Thank you, Mr. Constantine.

You're doing great.

That's what you think.

All right, let's start

all over again.

Ah, sh*t!

Why, Henry, you have such

a beaming smile on your face.

I smile because

I'm happy, Blanche.

It comes through you,

Blanche,

from your friend,

Ida Cookson.

I'm her guide, Henry.

Friendship can be claimed only

when it cannot be denied.

Tell Ida Cookson

we're all thankful here

for the warm tranquility

in her heart.

It will grow even warmer as she trusts

in you, and confides in you,

and holds back

no secrets from you,

be they her own or those

of her intimate friends.

Did you hear that,

Mrs. Cookson?

Yes, Madame Blanche.

Henry, I want you

to seek Walter for us now.

Search through the double strand

of kindness

until my friend Ida Cookson is joined

in loving communication

with her dear,

departed husband.

I will try, Blanche.

But first, the mist

must part a little,

and the veil must rise to let in the light

that will show us the path.

I'm ready now, Henry.

Ready! Ready to follow you

wherever you want me to go.

Where? Where are you

taking me, Henry?

Yes, yes, yes! I see.

I see your hand beckoning to me.

Oh, what a lovely garden,

Henry. My, my.

Oh, is that

a statue there?

Oh! Could this be Walter standing

beside the fountain?

How can you

do this to me?

- I need your car keys. I'm in a hurry.

- Oh!

Do you realize what damage you can

do to my psyche, breaking in this way?

For God's sake, just give me your keys.

I need them.

Yes, Henry!

What for?

I've located the daughter

of the Rainbird chauffeur,

- and I'm not going around there as a cab driver.

- Oh!

What am I supposed

to do without my car?

I don't care

what you do.

Take a taxi.

Just give me the keys.

The trees are swaying,

and the branches part!

But there's no one there!

Here.

I see shadows falling! The air is

getting cold! The brightness dims.

Goodbye, Henry! Goodbye.

Did you find Walter?

- Where?

- In the kitchen.

I did.

I wonder if I could speak to you

for a couple minutes, Mrs. Hannagan.

Why, sure.

Do we know each other?

No, I'm Frank McBride of the law firm

of Ferguson, Ferguson and McBride,

and I just wondered if you would

mind answering a couple questions

about your background.

- My background?

- Mmm-hmm.

It's as dull

as dishwater.

I mean, what in the world

would you be wanting with that?

Well, let's just say that the information

that I'm interested in

could be worth

a great deal of money.

- Oh, yeah? To who?

- Mmm-hmm.

Well, we'll get around to that pleasant

little subject in a minute

if you don't mind.

- Okay.

- Oh, swell.

Now, why don't we just start

at the beginning? Your parents.

Oh, they're both dead.

God rest them.

Your father was a chauffeur,

though, right?

How the heck

did you know that?

He was a chauffeur

for the Rainbird family.

Right again.

You'd be a hell of a detective,

Mr. McBride.

I don't know about that, my dear.

Now during this

period of time, though,

can you remember anybody being

a close friend of your father's?

There was a man. It was

way back when I was in school.

There was this guy that my father used

to drink beer with

and sh**t pool with

down in the Village.

This Harry Shoebridge.

Had a poultry shop with his wife, Sadie.

Shoebridge.

Yeah.

His business

was always lousy,

even when times

were good.

And she used to

have miscarriages

like other women

have birthdays.

Well, they stopped trying,

and they moved away to Barlow Creek

and adopted a kid,

I think.

A boy?

Yeah, an infant.

But, you know,

I'm not so sure.

It's all kind of hazy,

and I keep connecting it with...

Well, I remember

this night

with my dad driving over there

to the Shoebridge's all alone,

and then getting in

a big fight with Ma,

because he'd come

home at 4:00 a.m.,

and he wouldn't tell her

what he was doing or something.

Now after my dad passed away,

God rest his soul,

my ma was damn mad

at the Shoebridges,

because they never

showed up at the funeral.

Then she found out why.

Why?

A year earlier, they'd gone

to their own funeral.

Dead?

Their house burned

down with them in it.

Well, what about the son?

Mrs. Hannagan, can't you see that

there are customers waiting?

Oh, yes. Yes.

I'll be right there.

She'll be right there,

ma'am.

Look, Mr. McBride, about all this

being worth something...

Mrs. Hannagan!

- Yeah.

- Wait a second.

This Shoebridge son,

where do I look for him?

Well, try the

Barlow Creek Cemetery.

What do you mean,

the cemetery?

Well, I'm not sure,

but I think he's dead, too.

Sorry.

Dead end, Blanche.

Dead and buried.

Caretaker.

Do something for you?

I'm just a friend

of the family.

None left.

Bad business, that.

You mean the fire?

Never liked them

multiple funerals.

Too much work involved

all at one time.

They died together,

yet they're not buried together

in the same hole.

How come?

Search me.

Here. Look.

Died 1950.

Died 1950.

Both died the same date.

Old stone.

This is

a practically new stone.

Smart fellow, ain't ya?

Why? Have I stumbled on

to something?

Well, nice meeting you.

Better get back to my work. I got

a job coming in here tomorrow.

Turn that damn

thing down, Marcella.

I can't even

hear myself think.

How do you expect me to remember

anything that far back?

I'd have to go through my old files

for that kind of information.

Well, Mr. Wheeler,

I hate to insist.

You know something,

Mr. McBride?

You lawyers are all alike.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Well, come on.

I don't have all day.

What year did you say

the family died?

Uh, 1950.

What month?

Oh, I can't

help you there.

Shoebridge.

- Can I sit down here?

- Sure. Yeah, go ahead.

Shoebridge.

Shoebridge.

Here it is.

"Shoebridge. Harry and Sadie.

Large marble. Model 28.

"Paid in full.

Check number 93.

"First Church of Latter Day Saints,

Barlow Creek."

What about the son?

Edward Shoebridge.

He's their son.

Edward?

Yeah.

Nope. Nothing.

What do you mean,

nothing?

There's gotta be something.

Maybe it came later.

Wait a minute. You're talking

about Eddie Shoebridge.

His headstone?

Yeah, that did come later.

I think in '65.

Sure, I remember that kid.

He wasn't too popular

around here.

Some say he set

that fire himself,

you know,

to get rid of his family,

and then disappeared to make it

look like he died in the fire, too.

They never did

find his body.

You mean, there's

no body in that grave?

Well, as I recollect,

that's why the local parson

wouldn't say any services for Eddie.

Well,

wasn't there a death certificate?

I wouldn't know about that,

and I don't need to know.

I'm just a businessman,

Mr. McBride.

Ah, here it is.

"Edward Shoebridge. Granite special.

"Ordered November 12th.

"Paid for November 18th, 1965.

$395."

Now, that's funny.

It's paid in cash.

They don't

usually do that.

- Who was it?

- I don't know, Mr. McBride.

I guess he didn't

want his name known.

Well, what do

you mean, "he?"

You just said "he."

I did, didn't I?

Well, you know, I seem to sort

of remember that it was a man.

Yeah. A young fella.

Slightly bald.

I'd say

in his late 20s.

And did you see him again

when you put in the headstone?

We didn't do that.

He came by and

picked it up himself.

Yes, I remember now.

In one of those

tow trucks,

you know,

the kind that garages use.

Gotcha.

No, there is no death certificate here

for Edward Shoebridge.

Only Harry J. Shoebridge

and Sadie L. Shoebridge.

That's all you have?

Well, there is this.

It appears to be an application

for a death certificate

for one Edward Shoebridge,

dated November 4th, 1965.

"Inasmuch as applicant could

furnish no proof of death

"for party whose body

had never been found,

"and who could supply

no medical death certificate

"and nothing from the coroner's office,

the application was denied.

"Applicant, when informed he could file

a petition for court action,

"declined

the suggestion."

Does it say who

the applicant was?

Yes. "Request was made

by Joseph P. Maloney,

"426 Main Street,

Barlow Creek."

Attagirl. Thank you.

Welcome.

Fill her up?

Please.

You want me to check

under the hood?

If you would, please.

Better be careful

with those matches.

Oh. Right. Sorry.

- This your place?

- Yeah.

Then you must be

J. Maloney.

Tell me, does that

stand for John or Jim?

Joe.

Right.

Everything's okay.

It's funny.

You didn't hardly need any gas.

Didn't need no oil.

Guess you didn't come here

for the car, huh, mister?

Could you get my

windshield, please?

Don't worry.

You wouldn't happen to know a guy

by the name of Edward Shoebridge,

would you?

Used to live around here.

Name don't ring

no bell with me.

What would you be

wanting with this...

What's his name,

Shoebridge?

Yeah. Legal matter.

You're a lawyer?

Yeah.

Name's McBride.

Frank McBride.

First time I ever talked to

a lawyer didn't cost me money.

Actually, Mr. Maloney,

by talking to me,

- you could make yourself some money.

- Yeah?

I'm prepared to pay a reasonable

sum of cash right now

for any information that could

lead me to Eddie Shoebridge.

Where I come from,

lawyers are usually bad news.

Oh, no. Not this time.

This time they're good news.

Matter of fact,

I think that Eddie Shoebridge

would be delighted

when he hears from me.

What are you

gonna tell him?

Well, my client has asked me

to keep that confidential.

Who hired you

to find this guy?

That's confidential also.

Sure like to help you, mister.

Business ain't all that good around here.

- I think you can help me.

- Is that right?

Mmm-hmm.

See, people around here have been

telling me that Eddie Shoebridge is dead.

Well, if he's dead, looks like

he ain't gonna be hearing

all that good news you

have to tell him, huh?

I think he's alive.

Sure don't keep

this car very clean.

You want to tell me why you put

a headstone on an empty grave, Maloney?

What headstone?

The one you paid $395 for

back in 1965.

You owe me $2.47, mister.

Two weeks before that, you went

to the county courthouse

and asked for a certificate of death

for Edward Shoebridge,

and you were

turned down.

You wanna give me

your credit card?

No. Credit cards are out.

Like you,

I prefer to pay in cash.

Now this one happens to be my

personal favorite.

Isn't it exquisite?

Probably too expensive

for me.

Can I help you, sir?

Excuse me.

I'll be right back.

Mrs. Clay? Would you take care of

Mrs. Cunningham for a few moments?

Certainly,

Mr. Adamson.

I'm afraid

I rather like it.

Hey, Eddie,

you old son of a b*tch.

If it's all the same to you,

I prefer Arthur Adamson.

Now, what in the hell

are you doing here?

Had to see you about something

kind of urgent.

That's all, Eddie...

Arthur.

Couldn't you have

phoned me?

Some things you don't

put on no telephone.

Hey, you got

any booze around?

All right, Joseph.

What is it this time?

New freezer

for your wife?

Mother needs

another operation?

Bookies threatened

to k*ll you? What?

Come on, Eddie. You make me sound

like some kind of sponger.

Not that I ain't grateful

for all your favors.

Did I ever

have a choice?

Okay, okay.

Here it is.

First off, I gotta

ask you a question.

Go ahead.

Now tell me. No sh*t now, Eddie.

Can you think of any reason

why anyone would be sniffing around

in your life after all these years?

I can't think of

any reason at all. Why?

Well, there's this guy

comes around the garage today

trying to locate

Eddie Shoebridge.

Claims he's a lawyer

who's got good news for you, Eddie.

Won't say what or who

he's working for.

Calls himself McBride. I knew he was

a phony the minute I seen him.

- Police?

- No way. He's a real amateur.

I traced his license plates

with the bureau.

Doesn't even drive

his own car.

"Blanche Tyler,

17 Castle Heights Road."

What did he look like?

He's tall, thin, about 35.

He's always got a pipe on.

Asking a lot of smart-a*s questions.

What'd you tell him?

Nothing.

Not a g*dd*mn thing.

I didn't have to.

He knew everything.

Fake headstone

you had me put up.

How I tried to get you

officially declared dead.

The son of a b*tch says he thinks

you're still alive.

He's looking

for you, Eddie.

And any son of a b*tch who's looking

for you is looking for me.

Well, whatever he's up to,

he won't find me.

You worry too much, Joseph.

Yeah, I worry too much,

'cause you only planned the fire

and locked your old man

and old lady in the bedroom.

I poured the gasoline.

I lit the rags.

And I thank you.

The happiest day of my whole,

inglorious childhood.

All right, you want to kid about it?

It's all right with me.

I'm gonna

track this guy down.

And then what?

This.

You'll never change,

will you?

You got no cause

for complaint.

When you needed me,

I was always there, wasn't I?

Look, put that thing away.

And listen to me.

I want you to go back to Barlow Creek.

Do nothing. Say nothing.

Let me look into this matter

in my own, quiet way.

And if I need you for anything,

I'll contact you.

Okay?

You're the boss, Arthur.

Isn't it touching

how a perfect m*rder

has kept our friendship

alive all these years?

You better believe it.

I'm sorry to disturb you,

Mr. Adamson.

There are two gentlemen here to see you

from the police department.

Tell them

I'll be right out.

Jesus Christ, Eddie!

Wait here.

Arthur Adamson.

What can I do for you gentlemen?

Sorry to bother you,

Mr. Adamson.

Andy Bush,

Bureau of Inspectors,

and this is

Lieutenant Peterson.

- Hi.

- My pleasure.

No doubt you've been

reading or hearing

about the

Constantine kidnapping.

Well, I have a confession

to make, Inspector.

When I heard of the size of

that stone, my mouth watered.

Professionally speaking,

of course.

Well, just so you don't feel

discriminated against, Mr. Adamson,

we're routinely covering every gem dealer

and jewelry store in the city.

Well, I'm flattered.

Have you,

by any chance,

noticed anything out of the ordinary,

Mr. Adamson?

Any unusual movement

of large or small stones

into the markets

these last few days?

Absolutely not.

I see.

I take it then that you're going

on the assumption

that this ransom stonehas been

cut up into smaller gems?

That's correct, sir.

It makes

a lot of sense.

We think so.

If I may presume to make

a suggestion, it seems to me

you gentlemen ought to be covering

the antique and secondhand jewelry markets.

They buy from anyone.

Whereas we jewelers buy exclusively

on the wholesale exchanges.

- That's already being done, Mr. Adamson.

- Oh.

I think we've taken up enough of

Mr. Adamson's time.

Well, I'm sorry I haven't been able

to be of more help to you, gentlemen.

However, if I do hear of any unusual

transactions in the marketplace,

I'll be sure

and contact you.

Yes, we'd appreciate that.

Much obliged.

Take care.

Goodbye, sir.

Good day.

And good luck.

Mrs. Clay, close up

as soon as you wish.

I have some work

to do in here,

and I'll let myself

out the back way.

- Good night.

- Good night.

Your friend, Blanche Tyler,

is a spiritualist.

A spiritualist?

That's what it says

on her shingle.

Also, there's no one home.

A spirit is never at home.

Get in.

What do you think

we should do?

We'll wait.

We still don't know

who the man is yet.

Yeah.

- Must you?

- Mmm-hmm.

That must be her.

That must be the fellow with the pipe

who called on Maloney.

A cab driver.

Lumley. Lumley, what's this?

Where are you going?

I'm going home to my own bed

where I can get some sleep.

No, you're not.

Blanche, is that all you've ever

got on your mind?

What are you saving it for,

a rainy day?

Hey, honey, you never know

when you're gonna need it.

You're not being

friendly, Lumley.

Blanche, I'm too pooped to pop.

I'd be useless to you.

You're always useless to me!

You're always pooping out when I need you most!

...so we can collect a huge sum of money.

You call that being useless?

You know what

I'm talking about.

Come on inside and

stop being difficult.

Not tonight, Josephine.

I'm out of here.

You're a fink!

If I'm a fink, honey,

you're an ungrateful b*tch.

What about tomorrow?

What about it?

You've got important

work to do.

I want you to be sure

about Eddie Shoebridge.

See that you find him

and talk to him!

How many times are you going to

tell me that? Huh?

And how many times

am I gonna have to tell you

that tomorrow I have

to work in my cab?

So it'll wait

till Sunday.

You better give me a quick synopsis.

I'm confused.

Simple. A cab driver

is shacked up

with a sex-starved medium

named Blanche Tyler.

And don't ask me why,

but apparently, they're on the trail

of some spook named Eddie Shoebridge.

Fortunately, not on the trail

of your favorite kidnapper and mine.

How can you be so sure?

You did hear him talk about collecting

a huge hunk of money.

Couldn't that be

the reward that's on our heads?

You got yourself a point there,

Frances, old girl.

And only time will tell

whether it's any good.

One thing's certain.

We're not going to change

our game plan. Not now.

Buy me a drink, Arthur.

A shiny car.

A limousine?

Why does he drive

so fast, Henry?

What's that on the seat

beside him?

I hear the sound

of a baby crying.

Quick, Henry, before he disappears

from view, ask...

Yes, I know.

I see him now.

The uniform.

A chauffeur.

Words.

Henry, I need words.

Who? The what?

The Rainbird chauffeur?

Good heavens.

Old Michael O'Keefe, our chauffeur.

Where is Michael going?

Henry, ask him

where he's taking Harriet's baby.

Oh, more pictures are

coming in too fast.

I can hardly

make them out.

Henry, a graveyard,

a headstone?

I don't

like this, Henry.

A shoe. Bridge.

A shoe bridge?

Oh, don't do this to me, Henry.

Speak to the chauffeur.

Oh, God,

something's burning.

The house. Quick, Henry.

The house is on fire.

Well, take me

away from here.

I don't want

to see this.

I can't bear the sound

of their awful screaming.

Go back to

the chauffeur, Henry.

Get Michael

into our presence.

Miss Rainbird

remembers him.

Yes, I remember.

And, Madame Blanche,

listen to me.

Can you hear me?

I've remembered

something else

that could be

terribly important.

Wait one minute, Henry,

before you go.

Miss Rainbird deserves some kind

of assurance about Harriet's child.

He's a man by now,

and we have to know.

Is he happy, Henry?

Is he alive,

and well, and happy?

Well, if you can't,

you can't.

I certainly

can't force you.

Yes, of course

she'll understand.

Until next time then.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, my love.

What happened?

Don't you remember?

Not a blessed thing.

It doesn't matter now.

Listen, listen,

Madame Blanche.

Your Henry jogged my memory of something

I'd completely forgotten.

When our poor

old chauffeur, Mike,

realized that

he was dying,

he wrote to me and said there was

one person on Earth

who had promised

that he'd make it his business

to know where Harriet's son was

as long as he lived.

It was the parson

who baptized the newborn baby.

And there's an additional thing

I can tell you.

Don't tell me.

Let me guess.

500.

Not a penny.

Not even 100 for expenses.

It's all or nothing,

George,

until I can produce his name

and his present address.

Jesus, Blanche.

However, she gave me

a marvelous clue.

Here we go again.

No, here you go again.

To the man who might tell you

if Shoebridge is dead or alive.

Yeah, who's that?

Bishop Wood at

St. Anselm's Cathedral.

Holy Christ, Blanche.

No, George, not him.

Bishop Wood at

St. Anselm's Cathedral.

He was a parson once,

and he baptized the Shoebridge baby.

Excuse me.

Sorry.

Do you know how I could make

a date to see Bishop Wood?

If you want to make

the appointment today,

you'll have to make it

through the chaplain.

Which one is

the chaplain?

When the service is over,

I'll show you where to go.

Oh, dear.

The bishop,

where are they taking him?

I don't know.

Do you think he's sick?

You know he's moving.

You sure you gave him enough?

Just the usual dose.

He looks so harmless.

You know, when I was a little kid

living in that village,

he always made me feel

like I was something evil.

And look at me now.

Well, I feel

years younger.

You know, one more like this one today,

and we'll be naturally gray.

It was an incredible job.

You know, I really think

it's worth more than a million.

Well, I'm sorry, darling,

but I'm not going back

and rewrite my ransom note

that I left in my prayer book.

You'll have to be a good sport

and settle for a million.

You were beautiful, Fran.

Just beautiful.

I was scared.

I told you it'd be

all right, didn't I?

People in church

are inhibited.

They don't jump up, and run around,

and make a lot of noise.

They're all too

religiously polite.

Shall we go on

congratulating ourselves,

or would you like to

talk about him now?

Who?

"Who." The man

with the pipe.

So you saw him

there then, huh?

Larger than life.

Larger than death,

you mean.

There's no doubt about

who he's after now.

What were you planning

to do about him, dear,

besides just not

telling me?

I'm not planning to do

anything about him.

Joe Maloney's been itching

for that job. He's got it.

I'll phone him as soon as we put

our guest in his quarters.

I was right about that

silly cab driver.

For once in my life,

I hate being right.

Well, how in the hell could he have

known we were going to be there

when you and I are the only two people

in the world who knew that?

I've got a thought.

It's a dumb one.

Well, say it.

Do you believe in ESP,

extra sensory perception,

all that sort of psychic phenomena?

What do you mean?

Madame What's-Her-Name?

Blanche Tyler.

Jesus.

You and I know that

that's off the wall,

but can we afford

to be wrong?

I'm afraid our two

quarrelsome lovers

are going to have to

share a fatal accident.

Oh, my God.

But Maloney wouldn't be willing

to do that, would he?

Of course he'd be

willing. Gladly.

He'd believe he was protecting himself

and his old buddy.

Well, I don't want

to know about it. Okay?

Promise me, Arthur.

Come on, now, dear.

That's what's so exciting

about all of this.

We move as one. Everything together.

Nothing held back.

It was gross negligence,

losing him that way.

He was all we had.

I didn't lose him, Blanche.

He was kidnapped.

Why would anyone want to do that

to a bishop?

For the ransom, dummy.

It's a million dollars.

I can't get over it.

You know that I was right there.

Forget about the million.

What about our 10,000?

We've got nowhere

to go now, Lumley.

And what am I gonna

tell Miss Rainbird?

I suppose Henry and I are going to

have to exhaust ourselves again

doing your work for you.

What do you mean,

my work?

My work is driving a g*dd*mn cab,

for Christ's sake.

And starting right this minute, that's exact...

That's exact what?

Go ahead.

Answer the telephone.

Hello? Who?

Mr. Maloney?

Barlow Creek? Go ahead.

Hello.

Can you speak a little louder,

Mr. Maloney?

I said I traced you through

the license plates on that car

your lawyer friend

was driving.

I figured if you was still looking

for some dope on Eddie Shoebridge,

- I might have something for you.

- Oh.

How come you changed

your mind, Mr. Maloney?

I didn't say nothing

to your man,

'cause I felt it was none of

my business and none of his,

but I been thinking about it,

and how I could use the bread.

So for a little

consideration,

I'm willing to

lead you to someone

who knows Eddie Shoebridge's wife.

It'll cost you a grand.

Oh, don't be silly,

Mr. Maloney.

I have my lawyer

right here beside me,

and he says

he'll give you $100

provided it leads

to something.

Make it two.

All right.

It's a deal.

Where do we meet?

You and that

lawyer friend of yours,

you drive up and meet me

at Abe & Mabel's in two hours.

Abe & Mabel's?

Yes, it's a cafe up the road

to Mt. Sherman,

about five miles up

off Route 22.

- You know where it is?

- Yeah. Why so far away?

Can't we meet somewhere

more convenient?

Well, this party I'm gonna take you

to happens to be up in that area.

I see.

Mr. Maloney, are you admitting

Edward Shoebridge is still alive?

I ain't saying a thing till

I see the color of your money.

In two hours.

What do you think?

Smells fishy to me.

I know.

But even fish smells good when

you're starving to death.

What do we have to lose?

He's the only clue left.

You got $200 on you?

You know me better than that.

Of course not.

Fix me

another one of these.

You don't need another one.

You already got one.

We only got two hours

to get there.

- I'll eat in the car.

- Come on.

You're impossible.

A couple of beers, please.

He must be late.

Thank you, dear.

You kids

sit over there.

Well, how was

Sunday school today?

Noisy.

Five Cokes, please.

We didn't make

any noise.

That's right.

That's why you're here.

Don't blame me.

Did I say anything?

Hello.

I'm sorry I'm late.

I'll get you a chair.

That's all right.

I'll sit over here.

I'll join you.

Look at that.

Nice arrangement.

Don't be obscene, George.

Oh.

Thank you, my dear.

Just see that you keep your head

screwed on straight, will you?

He's not coming.

Well, that's

the end of that.

George,

what's the big hurry?

Just slow down a little,

will you, please?

I told you not to drive

so fast, George!

I don't know what's wrong.

The accelerator seems to be sticking.

George, for God's sake,

slow up, will you?

I can't.

My hamburger's coming up.

The accelerator is stuck.

Use the brakes!

- They don't work.

- What?

The brakes don't work.

What do you mean?

No!

- George!

- Come on, woman.

Don't grab me,

for God's sake!

It's not me.

It's the brakes don't work.

I'm getting

violently ill, George.

You're choking me, Blanche,

for Christ's sake!

George! Do something!

Put your foot down.

Grab the brake!

Reach down and pull the hand brake.

- Pull on it!

- I am pulling!

Get your hands off the steering wheel.

Now, pull on it!

- I am pulling.

- Pull it.

Come on, Blanche.

Get your hand off

the g*dd*mn wheel!

Get your

g*dd*mn foot down!

Need to see to...

I gotta get off

this road.

Blanche,

just hang on, baby.

Wasn't that fun?

Damn you,

George Lumley!

What's the matter

with you?

It wasn't me.

It's Maloney.

He wasn't driving!

Of course,

he wasn't driving,

but he screwed up the car

and broke the brakes.

- Maloney?

- Yes.

What? Do you think

it's a coincidence, Blanche? Huh?

Your car is gonna be out of commission,

looks like, for a couple days.

So let's go find us

another way to get home.

George.

Are you all right?

I think so.

How about you?

I'm okay.

I'm sorry.

- Do you really think Maloney wanted us dead?

- Mmm-hmm.

But why in the name of God would

anyone want to do that to us?

I don't know, but you can bet it

has something to do

with your mysterious friend,

Eddie Shoebridge.

Maloney's probably got him buried

in his backyard.

Doesn't want us

to find out.

That way.

Hi there.

Sorry I'm late.

Congratulations on the nice job

you did on our car, Maloney.

What are you two doing standing

in the middle of the road?

You know perfectly well

what we're doing on the road, Maloney.

You must be Blanche Tyler.

Pleased to meet you.

Where's your car?

Let's just say it ain't exactly

in running order. You know what I mean?

Well, hop in. I'll give you a lift

to the nearest station.

No, thank you.

We don't ride in hearses.

What do you think I came up here for,

the fun of it?

And you want me to take you to this party

that knows Eddie Shoebridge's wife?

Why don't you just go ahead

by yourself this time, Maloney?

We'll skip it.

He's all charm.

Who's that?

That's Maloney.

He's after us.

Come on.

Hey, guys,

let's get the hell out of here.

We better get the police.

And lose our $10,000?

May I be of some help

to you, madam?

I'd like to see

some bracelets.

Any particular kind?

Do you have anything with turquoise

or perhaps pearls?

Yes, please be seated.

Anything wrong

with our houseguest?

He's fine.

I gave him a very nice lunch

and a fresh bottle of wine.

Maybe one of these

will appeal to you?

Are those seed pearls?

That's right.

What are you

doing here?

These look like

freshwater pearls.

The message has

come through on KFAG.

They've located

the stone we asked for.

In New York.

Harry Winston. 53 carats.

These are very nice.

How much are they?

$315, including tax.

When do we make

the pickup?

Tomorrow night, 9:30.

Good. Now go on home.

Would it be possible

for you to set these aside

so that I can bring in my husband,

and he can look at them?

Of course, madam.

Now for the bad news.

Take a look at this.

Incompetent b*stard.

He blew it.

Now we'll have to eliminate

these two ourselves.

Ourselves?

That's right.

Tomorrow night,

right after we return our guest.

- Oh, I can't.

- You must.

Remember, share

and share alike.

You stop it! Stop it!

Did you decide

on this one?

Yeah, that'll be fine.

- I'll have it wrapped for you.

- Thank you.

But it was more than that,

much more than that,

that you left behind

as your precious gift to life.

Yes, Joseph Maloney,

you were a generous man.

You gave of your

heart and soul.

You gave the very best

that was in you,

and no more than that can be asked of

mortal man on this Earth.

You loved

your wife dearly.

You bestowed upon your

dear mother and father

all the care,

all the attention,

patience and comfort that they needed

in the sunset of their lives.

And those of us who are left

behind to grieve for you, Joseph,

can only bow to

the divine judgment of our Lord

who has chosen to take you away

from us in this cruel accident.

Oh, how great

the holiness of our God!

For He knoweth all things,

and there is not

anything save He knows it.

And He cometh

into the world

that He may save all men

if they will harken unto His voice.

For behold, He suffereth

the pains of all men,

yea, the pains of

every living creature,

both men, women,

and children,

who belong to

the family of Adam.

And he suffereth this that the resurrection

might pass upon all men,

that all might stand before him

at the great and judgment day.

Can't you

leave me alone?

Isn't it enough

that you k*lled him?

No, that's not so,

Mrs. Maloney.

It was the other way.

You. You started

it all coming here

and messing in things

that were none of your business.

Now go away. Please!

Mrs. Maloney,

I have to talk to you.

He's dead and buried.

There's nothing to talk about.

Why didn't he want me looking

for Eddie Shoebridge?

I am not listening to you.

Get away from me!

Mrs. Maloney,

your husband tried to k*ll me,

and you were in on it,

weren't you?

No.

Well, then why are you always running away

from me? Is that why?

No.

Do you realize that you are

an accessory to an attempted m*rder?

I had nothing to do with that.

I don't know what you...

Perhaps the police would think

that you did have something to do with it.

You want me to go to

the police about it?

For God's sake.

You wouldn't do that.

Look, just tell me.

Where is Eddie Shoebridge?

I can't.

Mrs. Maloney, where is he?

Please tell me.

There is no

Eddie Shoebridge.

He went up in smoke 25 years ago

and came down in the city.

He calls himself

Arthur Adamson.

Arthur Adamson?

If he finds out I told you,

he'll k*ll me.

Now, go away and don't ever

come near me again.

Fake! Fake!

Well, wait a second now.

You're the one that's exaggerating.

No, no, now, I'll give you two

or three days maybe I missed,

but never

more than that.

Tell him

it's deeply important.

Go on. Stand up.

Why me? What makes you think that it's me

that ran up all the extra mileage?

What about that

little as*h*le Herbie,

or Al, the one

on the day shift?

I understand.

I'll be there.

Yes, I promise

I'll be there.

The answer's no.

He says I must work the shift,

and I must work it tonight.

And do me a favor,

Blanche.

Please don't give me

a hard time.

You didn't put up

much of a fight.

Hey, honey, look, after all the goofing

off I've been doing on your behalf,

I'm within a gnat's eyelash

of losing my cab

and getting kicked

right out of the company.

Lumley, you're thick!

You won't have to drive a cab

if we can get this thing over

and done with and collect the money.

If, darling, if.

You're always giving me ifs.

I can't eat ifs

and neither can you

while Julia Rainbird and you are

waltzing around in the great beyond.

I mean,

come on, sweetheart.

The least I can do is show up

or work every now and then.

After all, didn't I give you

the guy's name?

Yeah, but the phone book is full

of Arthur Adamsons. Look at them.

It's very simple. All you need

to do is find out the right one.

It's a snap. The one

that's close to 40 years old

and trembles a little bit

at the name Eddie Shoebridge.

Easy.

We do that tomorrow.

Now would be much better.

A bird in the hand, Lumley.

Please.

Sweetheart, the only bird

that's gonna be in my hand,

and I'm very sorry

to say this,

is a steering wheel

from 4:00 to midnight.

Sure.

Why should I get a kiss?

Just when I was beginning to think

you weren't impossible.

Maybe I'll do it

without you.

The hell you will!

Come on, now, Blanche.

Please.

This Shoebridge fellow's gone to

a lot of trouble not to be found.

Now you got no idea what kind of trouble

you could get into.

Yeah, well, whatever it is,

he'll forget about it

when he hears about the millions

he's coming into.

Blanche, come on. Just sit down

on your pretty little behind.

And I must say,

it is quite an...

No, it is.

Very attractive little behind.

And just wait

for me, okay?

And tonight when

I get home, we will...

Right. Very nice. Plot our strategy.

Know what I mean, darling?

Who needs him?

You wouldn't be

Arthur Adamson, would you?

Excuse me.

Excuse me!

Hello.

Are you Arthur Adamson?

Hey, Art!

Yeah?

A.A.?

I'm sorry.

We're just closing.

I understand. I'm not shopping.

Is Mr. Adamson around?

No, I'm afraid not.

But if you come back tomorrow...

All right. But just to be sure

I have the right Mr. Adamson,

he is a gentleman

of about 40, I trust?

Yes, that's about right.

Oh, that's the first encouraging news

I've had all afternoon.

Now isn't there someplace

I might reach him without delay?

- You mean tonight?

- Yes.

Well, he usually goes

directly home from here.

But tonight would be very bad,

because I believe he's giving a party.

I know he left unusually early

for some such reason.

Isn't there something I can tell him

for you in the morning?

This is personal,

rather personal.

Oh, I see.

Perhaps you'd like

to leave him a note.

A note? Very good.

Yes. Come this way.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Is anything the matter?

I was just thinking.

Instead of leaving this note here,

it might be better if I sent

Mr. Adamson a telegram tonight.

What's his address,

please?

Well, I don't...

It's all right.

We're friends.

- 1001 Franklin Street.

- 1001 Franklin.

Thank you very much.

You've been very kind.

You're a Capricorn,

aren't you?

No, I'm a Leo.

That's what I thought.

Pete, hi.

Hello, there,

Blanche, baby.

Have you seen George?

Yeah, he just left a few minutes ago,

but he'll be back.

- Took a party of four out to River Valley.

- River Valley?

Oh, dear.

That could take all night.

Easily. What's up?

- Would you give him a message for me?

- Sure thing.

Just tell him

I found him.

You found him?

That's right.

He lives at 1001 Franklin.

1001 Franklin.

That's where he lives,

and that's where I'm going now.

You found him,

and that's where he lives,

and that's where

you're going now.

- Thanks, Pete.

- Any time, Blanche.

You wanna go over

the new pickup spot once again?

I know it by heart.

Are you all right?

I will be.

You sure?

Have to be there at 9:30.

Let's get going.

Bishop Wood,

it's time to go.

Have you your

vestments on?

Yes, but I haven't

finished the chicken.

Oh, I'm sorry,

Your Excellency.

Now, here's what

I want you to do.

Place the armchair in the center of the room,

facing away from the door,

and seat yourself in it.

You're going to be

comfortably put to sleep.

But it'll last only

for a short while.

Thank you very much.

You are most considerate.

Let me know

when you're ready.

By the way, I haven't quite

finished that book

you were kind enough

to let me have.

May I take it along?

With our fingerprints on it?

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Nice try,

Your Excellency.

Thank you. Don't bother then.

I'm ready.

All right, I'll be turning

your light off now.

We mustn't be late.

See who it is and be careful.

It's her.

That woman, Blanche Tyler.

This is incredible!

Is that

cab driver with her?

She's alone.

If I didn't have to make

this pickup in 35 minutes...

Well, what are we

going to do?

Nothing!

Until later tonight.

She's gone.

Come on.

Let's go.

Hurry, hurry, hurry!

- I thought you said...

- I know.

Mr. Adamson?

Watch him.

Oh, Mr. Adamson. How lucky I am not

to have missed you.

Apparently, you didn't

hear me at the front door.

Apparently.

I am Madame Blanche Tyler,

the spiritualist.

Good evening, honey.

Madame Blanche, I wonder

if I might suggest you

to remove your car

from our driveway.

You see, we're terribly late

for an appointment.

Yes, when you hear why

I've come, Mr. Adamson.

Or should I say Shoebridge?

You won't mind

being late at all.

My dear lady, I know exactly

why you've come here.

How could you?

And exactly why you and your friend,

that cab driver...

You know George?

...have been

sniffing along my trail

like two little eager bloodhounds

these past few weeks.

I had no idea,

Mr. Adamson.

Well, all right,

Madame Blanche, you found me.

Music to my ears.

And I'm perfectly willing to listen

to your demands, whatever they might be,

but not right now.

No demands, Mr. Adamson.

No, no, no! Hardly that.

Julia Rainbird

wants nothing from you

but the privilege

of making you heir

to the entire

Rainbird fortune.

The whole, lovely

millions and millions of it.

Now if she made any demands at all,

they were on me to find you.

Through psychic means,

of course.

Let me

get this straight.

Is that the only reason

you and your friend

have been, shall we say,

investigating me?

Oh, yes, and don't think

it's been easy.

Oh, Mr. Adamson, you've given George

and me the devil's own time of it.

Tracing you from

a foundling baby

to a young boy named Shoebridge

to a man named Adamson.

Oh, but, Mr. Adamson,

here you are. Here I am.

It's a happy moment

for us all, isn't it?

It's the bishop.

Does anyone know

that you've come here?

No one, no.

Anyone? No, no.

No. Not a soul.

Not even George, so...

You have nothing to worry about,

Mr. Adamson.

I promise.

I won't breathe

a word to anyone.

It looks like Miss Tyler

needs some rest.

Will you do as I say?

No. No.

Unlock the door.

Cheer up, Fran.

Let's go get the new diamond

for our chandelier.

Wow.

It's gorgeous.

And now for

Madame Blanche.

Oh, my God.

Blanche?

Blanche?

Blanche?

If I'm

talking too much,

perhaps it's because

you're not talking at all.

It's my stomach, Arthur.

m*rder doesn't

agree with it.

You think

I'm looking forward to it?

If Joe Maloney had been more efficient,

they'd both be dead by now.

You can have

my share, Arthur.

You can keep both diamonds

all to yourself if you'll just end it.

I'll tell you

what I'll do.

If you help me

carry Sleeping Beauty

up out of the cellar

and load her into our car,

and drive her out

to some deserted road

where a suicide

can take place,

I promise you we'll talk

this thing over. Okay?

What about

the cab driver?

Well, if she was able to find us,

I'm sure he can, too.

He'll walk

right into our hands.

Your hands, Arthur,

not mine.

Don't you think we ought to go down

and take a look at her?

It's been a while

since we gave her that shot.

- You do it.

- Okay.

You'll be happy to know

she's still unconscious.

Blanche.

Shh!

I'll put this end

in her exhaust pipe

and the other end

in the window.

That way,

it'll look like suicide.

Better go

and get her now.

I'll take her in our car.

You follow in hers.

You take hold

of her feet.

Jesus, she's heavy.

George!

Got them.

Blanche, you faked

that one beautifully.

You are still the champ.

Thank you, George.

Do you realize how much

the reward is for those two?

Yes. But do you realize

how much more the reward would be

if we could find the diamonds

and turn them in?

What's the matter

with you?

Blanche,

what's the matter?

Blanche,

what's the matter?

What is it?

Blanche, you did it!

You are psychic!

What am I doing here

on the stairs?

You're not a fake.

You actually found one. Look.

I did?

Now, I'll get the police on the phone

and give them our good news,

and call Miss Rainbird

and give her the bad.

Operator,

can I have the police?