Tight Spot

Excited, Pete?

About what?

Why, about the fact that you're gonna be

one of the biggest men in the country tonight.

- Think so? - Think so?!

After twenty-five years of running the underworld,

Benny Costain, the most powerful and feared man in the country today,

is gonna be waded into by one Pete Tonelli.

You got any idea what Mr Costain does to...

people who try things like this?

He's not gonna be around to do anything

after you get on the stand, Pete.

Yeah.

Maybe.

Maybe I'm gonna be on the stand.

Why, sure you are, Pete.

You're gonna get on the stand.

Now, we'll see to it that nothin' happens to ya after you do.

We sure will.

Oh, now, look, kid, it isn't so bad.

See if you can't think of this joint

as a sort of a training ground for future life.

'Course, training for what beats me.

But I never been in prison before.

Half the time, I don't know what they're talkin' about.

Because I don't know, I do something wrong.

Then they yell at me as if I was stupid or somethin'.

Okay, kid, so now you can relax,

'cause you finally get the first break you've had

- since they dragged ya into this trap. - Break?

Certainly. They turned you over to me, didn't they?

I just happen to know more about this joint

than those grafters that built it.

Yeah, but I don't.

Okay, so you don't. So I'm gonna tell you.

Certain things in the beginning's more important to know than others.

And other things is even more important than that.

And one of the most important things in this place

is "don't volunteer for nothin'".

- Don't volunteer? - Now, remember that.

Whenever they come around, waggin' their tails,

and trying to act all warm and friendly like

about some extra work that's gotta be done,

you don't do nothin'.

You just sit there, like a hunk of wet wash,

and don't volunteer.

Why not?

Well, why should you help the very jerks out

that's keepin' ya here, for one thing?

And don't ever do one bit more than just exactly what you're told to do.

But how do you get around 'em?

Okay. Supposin' they come to me, and they say,

"Conley, on this floor there's a spot."

Do I go ahead and wet-mop from here to extremity?

Not you.

Not on your life, I don't.

And, what's more, I don't go over that floor

except just where they point out it's spotty exactly.

And what do we usually say about that?

You usually say, "Don'tcha have no brains, Conley?"

"Don'tcha know we meant you to clean the whole filthy floor?"

And that always gives Conley a chance to say...

"If I had any brains, what would I be doin' in this trap?"

Come on, you're wanted in the warden's office.

The warden's office?

For what? It's just about time for the dinner to gong.

Now, don't show off, Conley.

Come on.

Like poor, dumb sheep, we're moved from barn to stall,

and nobody takes the trouble to tell us why.

It's inhuman.

Don't volunteer for nothin'!

This way.

When the inmates are thrown off schedule,

you can't blame their stomachs for growlin' a little.

Hello, Conley.

As I understand it,

Conley will remain in our custody

even though you'll take her outside the prison?

That's right, Warden.

Get her into her street clothes, Willoughby.

Yes, ma'am.

Anything wrong?

I'm sure if there was, I'd be the last one to be told.

That will do, Conley.

I don't suppose it'd do any good

if I ask if my civil rights is bein' violated?

I have a court order to make you available to the federal authorities.

In an unfed condition?

We won't be long, Lieutenant.

This time, the inmate's stomach is not to be blamed.

Four years of too many potatoes, Conley.

Potatoes?

I thought those were plastic cotton balls they were testin'.

Look out, will ya?

Would you mind tellin' me what this is all...

Nobody talks to me.

Well, aren't we the real, life-size Boston Blackies?!

Why? Why?

Help yourself.

Thanks.

Hey, look at them new styles!

I guess maybe these old rags of mine must look like Easter parade, 1902.

Look, sister, I wouldn't know styles if you shoved 'em down my throat.

You're sure of that, huh?

Why? Because you had so many of 'em shoved down your throat?

Why is it nobody ever thought of buildin' a nice, big statue

to the first cop who ever called a girl "sister"?

Because, if he hadn't come along,

the police'd sure put on their bare faces for small talk.

What's it with a cop? Always gotta call ya "sister".

You like "mother" better?

Maybe I'd like my own name for a change.

- Maybe you would. - Yeah, try it for size.

Oh, look! Polka dots!

Look at that dress in the window!

I hope you don't object to a person looking out their own window?

You'll know right away if I object to anything.

What'll you do, light up?

Would the world collapse if somebody was to tell me somethin'?

Somebody will.

Wait.

- Whole floor cleared? - Yes, sir.

- How about the roof? - The men are already up there.

What are we gonna have, a party?

What kind of prisoners do you keep here?

Willoughby, get her settled. I'll be back in a minute.

You didn't tell her anything?

What about the trip down here? You sure you weren't followed?

I'm sure I was. I lost 'em.

- You're positive? - Please...

All right.

What's she like, Vince?

Oh, just like the rest of 'em that come through the line-up.

Smart-talkin', brassy, third-class citizen.

And she's our last chance.

If she doesn't come through,

we'll be thrown outta court Monday, and there goes our two years' work.

Then she oughta be in the city jail, where Costain can't knock her off.

Let's do it my way.

- What's so interesting? - People.

And cars.

But mostly people, who can go anyplace they wanna go.

Haven't seen anybody like that for four years.

- Who's that? - My daughter.

- Are you married? - I was.

He died in France, in the Normandy landings.

Ah, none of us never knew that.

It must scare you to death

to have a daughter like this, with a job like yours,

that always keeps pointin' out what can happen to a girl.

And she's pretty.

Pretty lucky kid, to have a mother like you that's so crazy about her.

'Course I am crazy about her, but...

how did you know?

You should've seen the look on your face

when I said she was pretty.

Willoughby, send her in here.

I guess they want you in there now.

Ah, for what?!

I don't know any more than you do, but you'd better go.

You don't, huh?

Oh, we've finally arrived at the place where somebody's gonna explain

this outrageous draggin' of a person from here to there?

Yes, we've, er... finally arrived at that place, Miss Conley.

Would you please sit down?

My name is Lloyd Hallett.

I'm an attorney for the government.

You mean I'm up for some kind of tax rap?

No, you're not up for any kind of rap, so you can just relax.

Would you care for a cigarette?

Er...

One for later, after dinner.

Certainly.

It's just that we thought that you could be helpful

by giving us some information about a case that I'm prosecuting.

Case? What I know about cases, you could put on the head of a pin.

Perhaps I can be a little bit more explicit.

You do that.

You, er, used to go around with a man by the name of Pete Tonelli,

didn't you, Miss Conley?

Go around? You mean, like merry-go-rounds and revolvin' doors?

I mean, you used to be a friend of Tonelli's.

Friends, perhaps, but nothin' more.

Miss Conley, there's no danger of implicating yourself in anything

by any answers that you might give me.

I'd just like it made clear that, if Pete's done anything,

he can do his own hangin'.

- Well, that point is now on the record. - That's good.

You, er... took a trip one time with Pete, didn't you?

It was on a yacht.

And I believe you went to the West Indies.

Yacht?

Yeah, you know, those long, white things.

I know what's a yacht.

Some cops has always gotta assume,

just because you've been hauled in and persecuted falsely...

"Persecuted falsely"?

I'm sure the lieutenant didn't mean to offend you, Miss Conley.

Excuse me, please.