My Favorite Brunette

Hey Warden, when's he going?

Taking him down now.

Guess that pink slip ain't coming warden?

Looks bad.

How do you think he'll take it?

Like a soldier my boy.

No ketchup? This is the worst last meal I ever had.

Sorry Jackson, here's the Warden.

Sure glad to see you Warden. So the Governor came through

with that stay, I knew he would he's a very good guy.

Sorry Jackson, no word from the Governor.

Sorry.

No word?

No word, huh?

Well, I'll know who to vote for next time.

Come on Jackson.

Nice cosy little nook.

So that's it. Mind if I take a look?

I wouldn't advise it.

You're getting soft Warden.

Gas. Haven't even put in electricity.

Right in here, Jackson.

I'm going to grant you a special privilege not often given to a man

in your position.

It's what you asked for. The chance to tell your story to the newspapers.

To get it off your chest. Thanks, Warden.

See you in a while Jackson.

I'll be right here.

Mr Jackson I think you're wonderful. You've really got what it takes.

I ain't exactly a cream puff. Cigarette?

Nevermind. Thanks George.

There might be a saw in that one.

Well you've got what I call guts.

The way I figured... Anybody got a match?

The way I figured if a guy feels in his heart he's taking a phoney rap

it's not so tough to kick the bucket.

It's not so tough to walk that last mile.

It's just... tough to light a cigarette, that's all.

Say Jackson, how did you get into this mess?

Was it a... woman?

It's always a woman. You should have seen this woman.

Skin like smooth satin. Beautiful blue eyes.

Dark silken hair. Kind of a gal that make you want to give away your last shirt.

I borrowed this from the Warden. This girl...

How did you meet her? Did she come up to your office?

Did you fall in love with her?

Wait a minute, one at a time.

You may not know this but I wasn't always a detective.

Before they pinned this murder rap on me I had one of the sweetest

little rackets in San Francisco.

A legitimate business? Better than legitimate, it was profitable.

My office was in the Trafalgar Building, just on the edge of Chinatown.

In Chinatown. No, not right in.

Do you know California Street, from the hill at Stockton?

Coming down the hill on a cable car you could just see my office.

Third floor front. Ronnie was the name, "Ronnie, Baby Photographer".

I'll never forget that day. For two hours I'd been trying to make that little brat smile.

I threw the book at him every sure-fire trick of the trade

This kid's going to grow up to be a sponser.

He's even wearing out the lights.

Quick, snap it!

Watch the birdie!

There you are, another masterpiece.

Sweetems you're wonderful.

You're wonderful too, Mr Jackson.

That's because I was a kid once myself.

I'm just dying to see those proofs. When will they be ready?

The first thing in the morning Mrs Fong. I'm sure you'll like them.

Goodbye you little rascal.

Pull him off! Give Mr Jackson back his fingers!

Time! Time!

Doesn't he get meat at home?

You happy little gourmet.

He's sweet though. Let me see.

"Baby photographer. A fine job for a two fisted he-man like Ronnie Jackson.

I had promised to have pictures of the kid ready by morning so I got to work on development.

Must have been about 20 minutes later, half an hour or something like that

when I heard a door slam in the hallway outside.

I knew it was Sam McCloud coming back to his office from a busy day

pinning the goods on a few assorted croocks and murderers.

Sam McCloud, the coolest, toughest private eye in the business.

I wanted to be a detective too. It only took brains, courage and a gun.

And I had the gun.

I'd figured out a way for Sam to hire me, so I started across the hall.

Already I could see my name in big letters "Ronnie Jackson, Private Eye".

What I didn't see was the small print underneath: "Rest in Peace".

Don't worry your pretty little head about it, baby.

Hi Sam.

Listen baby, it will take more than a couple of... to scare me off.

We'll have to talk that over some rainy night in front of a nice warm fire

I'll bring the matches.

What's on your mind, Ronnie?

Matches... No, I mean, look Sam, it came today, license and everything

now can I be your partner?

I told you before, stick to watching the birdie and you'll die of old age.

But I was cut out for this kind of life.

All my life I wanted to be a hard-boiled detective like Humphrey Bogart,

Dick Powell, even Alan Ladd.

Have those beautiful women coming into the office, those warm fires on those rainy nights

that's the kind of life I want. How about it Sam?

Smooth, huh?

Say, I can be a lot of help to you Sam. Look, here's my latest invention, right here.

A camera with a keyhole lens.

Takes pictures through doors. I've been kicked out of five hotels already.

How about it Sam? Can I go to work for you?

Just give me a simple yes or no.

No.

Oh, but that's too simple. Why don't you give it a little thought?

I'm going to Chicago for a few days. I'll leave the door open

so you can come through and answer the phone.

Little stiff.

I could go with you, I've got a coat just like that.

I could help you out a bit in case you're running any keyhole work...

You're sure there's nothing I can do for you? Yeah, you keep your nose clean.

That's the last chance I'll give him.

Keep my nose clean. Answer the phone.

I oughta go in business for myself. "Ronnie Jackson, Private Eye".

I could catch those gummed-up hopsles over a warm fire even if it wasn't raining

Drink as much as he can.

I suppose you wonder why I act this way. No, every girl that comes in here does that.

I need a detective. Please say that you'll help me.

Yeah, but look, I'm just... Please Mr McCloud, please.

Just call me Sam.

This is my type of case. Spll it sister.

My name is Carlotta Montay, Baroness Montay.

Baroness?

I feel as though someone's watching me. Yeah, that's me.

I arrived here three days ago on the Queen of Peru, with the Baron, my husband.

Oh, you've got a husband.

This was taken the day we arrived.

A two-column cut in the "San Francisco Citizen", he must rate.

I'm in trouble, deep trouble.

What's the wheel chair for? My husband is an invalid.

He hasn't been out of that wheel chair in seven years.

You're in trouble. Keep talking.

At the dock I went ahead to clear our luggage through customs.

I was gone 5, 10 minutes at the most. When I returned he had disappeared.

A snatch job, huh? Have you gone to the police?

No. If I go to the police they'll kill him.

Who's they? That's what I want you to find out.

Look, I have no money, but this ring can be pawned anywhere for at least $5000.

Oh, look sister, five grand is a lot of moolah! You don't have to...

The ring is nothing. We Montay are the generous.

If you will just find my husband I will be so grateful.

You will see.

I'll bring the matches. But this isn't necessary.

What's the matter? Listen, they mustn't find me here.

I don't hear anything.

Be at this address as soon as you can.

Would five minutes be too soon?

We're dealing with dangerous men, be careful.

They mustn't know you're a detective. Don't worry your pretty little head

about it honey, I'll find your husband... fool that I am.

Somebody's coming.

Guard this map, with your life. With my life?

Hurry.

It's you Mabel, I'm sorry.

There you are.

Come in the studio some night after hours and I'll take your picture.

When everybody's gone, no charge.

Except for the negatives. Come right in. Prints are a dollar and a half. Any time.

Well, what are you waiting for, you want to be a detective, don't you?

Let's see, what was that address?

Oh, the map, my life.

Smooth.

Small bullets.

Ain't this your camera, Ronnie? Oh, yeah thank you very much.

You don't have to pull no gun on me to kiss me. Any time.

Well, there I was on my own, a missing husband and a dark eyed dreamboat

up to her gorgeous lips in trouble.

What a parley.

And that mysterious map, the whole thing just like you'd read it in a detective magazine.

I head my car up to the address the doll gave me and turns out this place is practically

a sleeper jump from town.

Anyway... later that afternoon I'm driving through the gates of one of those

upper bracket estates down in the peninsula.

Pretty soon I come to another gate.

That should have been my cue to put the car in reverse.

Then I get a load of the mansion.

What a joint. Must have been something left over from "Wuthering Heights".

You know, the kind of a house that looks like you've been hunting quail in the hallways?

I didn't know it then, but I was going to be the quail.

Beautiful day, isn't it?

Maybe it isn't so beautiful.

It is day, though.

But it's late.

Sort of.

Allow me.

Dr Lundau, good afternoon sir. Good afternoon, Kismet.

Baroness Montay is expecting me.

Pronto. Oh, yes. Won't you come in?

Pronto.

Nice cheerful place. What time do they bring the mummies out?

Very amusing sir. Madame la baronesse is in the living room.

Shall I announce you? Nevermind, I'll take it from here.

May I help you with your overcoat?

Pardon sir, your collar.

Here we are. Thanks Cuddles.

Very amusing.

Miss Montay. Hello. Pretty song, isn't it?