Kiss Me Deadly

Please stop!

Please!

You almost wrecked my car.

Well?

Get in.

And now fellas...

we'll hear mat fine new platter by Nat King Cole.

"I'd Rather Have the Blues."

The thumb isn't good enough for you. You've gotta use your whole body.

But would you have stopped if I had used my thumb?

No.

What's this all about?

I'll make a quick guess.

You were out with some guy who thought “no” was a three-letter word.

I should've thrown you off that cliff back there. I might still do it.

- Where you headed? - Los Angeles.

Drop me off at the first bus stop.

Do you always go around with no clothes on?

What's the trouble, Officer?

A woman escaped from an asylum upstate.

Young and wearing a trench coat.

Seen anybody up the road that fit that description?

- No, I haven't, Officer. - Okay, move on.

Haven't seen a thing, Officer.

- Oh, my wife's been asleep. - All right. Move on.

May I have my hand back now?

So you're a fugitive from the laughing house.

They forced me to go there.

Took away my clothes to make me stay.

Who?

I wish I could tell you that.

I have to tell someone.

When people are in trouble, they need to talk.

But you know the old saying.

What I don't know can't hurt me?

This wheel doesn't feel right. It keeps pulling over.

- Good evening, folks. - Check the right front wheel.

Yes, sir.

- What'd you find? -

Caught in the spindle. It was binding against the drum.

Oh, we must've picked it up when we went off the road back there.

Yeah? The only thing I ever pick up when I go off the road is poison ivy.

- Thanks, kid. - Thank you.

- Would you do me a favor, please? - Wouldn't mind at all.

Would you put a stamp on this and drop it in the mailbox for me, please?

Yes, ma'am.

Anything else, ma'am?

Did you find out what was wrong with the wheel?

Oh, yeah. You picked up a piece of branch...

when you took that little, uh, trip off the side of the road.

So long. Come back again.

You're angry with me, aren't you?

Sony I nearly wrecked your pretty little car.

I was just thinking how much you can tell about a person from such simple things.

- Your car, for instance. - What kind of a message does it send you?

You have only one real, lasting love.

Now who could that be?

YOU.

You're one of those self-indulgent males who thinks about nothing but his clothes...

his car, himself.

Bet you do push-ups every morning just to keep your belly hard.

You against good health or something?

I could tolerate flabby muscles in a man if it would make him more friendly.

You're the kind of a person who never gives in a relationship...

who only takes.

Ah, woman.

The incomplete sex.

And what does she need to complete her?

Why, man, of course. Wonderful man.

Au right, an right. Let if go.

That bus stop will be coming up pretty soon, and I don't even know your name.

You forget. I'm a loony from the laughing house.

All loonies are dangerous.

Do you ever read poetry?

No, of course you wouldn't.

Christina Rossetti wrote love sonnets.

I was named after her.

- Christina? - Yes, Mike.

I got your name from the registration certificate, Mr. Hammer.

Get me to that bus stop, and you can forget you ever saw me.

- If we don't make that bus stop - - We will.

If we don't...

remember me.

No! No!

- She passed out. - I'll bring her to.

If you revive her, do you know what that will be?

Resurrection. That's what it would be.

And do you know what “resurrection” means?

It means “raise the dead.”

And just who do you think you are that you think you can raise the dead?

- Put him in the car too? - Naturally.

Mike.

Mike-

Hey, Mike.

Mike-

- Hi, Velda. - Hi.

Dr. Luciano, call the operator; please.

You're never around when I need ya.

You never need me when I'm around.

- Pat's here. - Five minutes. That's all you've got.

Nurse-

- Hi, flatfoot- - Hi.

Three days ago, I was figuring I'd have to finance a new tux to bury the corpse.

Three days?

How am I doin'?

You're doin' all right.

In a couple of weeks, you'll walk out of here.

Can you remember, Mike?

How it happened, the whole thing.

I never thought I'd smell that again.

Ooh. Look at all the goodies.

- I have a cab. - Mr. Hammer?

You won't need the cab. We'd like to ask you a few questions.

That figures. See ya later.

- Why don't you come in? It may be a while. - I'll wait here.

We're not getting very far, are we, Mr. Hammer?

Well, now, we have most of the facts. All we need is a little more fill-in.

I almost get myself killed, all he wants is a little more fill-in.

Is it too much to ask for your cooperation?

- And make 'em try it again? - You'll be given full protection.

Maybe we'll have better luck with some more elementary questions.

Your full name, please, Mr. Hammer.

“Michael Hammer. 10401 Wilshire Boulevard, Los Angeles, California-”

Now just what do you do for a living?

According to our information, he calls himself a private investigator.

- His speciality is divorce cases. - He's a bedroom dick.

He gets information against the wife.

Then he makes a deal with the wife to get evidence against the husband.

Thus playing both ends against the middle.

Just how do you achieve all this? You crawl under beds?

Nothing so primitive.

He has a secretary. At least that's what he calls her.

What's her name, Mr. Hammer?

- Velda Wichman. - She's a very attractive young woman.

Real woo-bait. Lives like a princess.

He sics her onto the husbands, and before you know it...

he's got his evidence and he's ready for the big squeeze.

Who do you sic onto the wives, Mr. Hammer?

That's his department.

All right. You've got me convinced. I'm a real stinker.

Now if that's all you've got on your minds, I'd like to get a long home.

Yes, I know. You're anxious to get back to your life's work.

You're free to go.

Open a window.

- Thanks for waiting, Pat. - Yeah.

She was a cute kid. Had the nicest way of needling a guy.

There'll be a long pause before those characters get a line on who killed her.

The law isn't fast enough. You could do it a lot better. Is that it?

Now look, Mike. Who do you think you are?

What's the pitch, Pat?

An ordinary little girl gets killed, and it rings bells all the way to Washington.

There's gotta be a pitch.

I'll give you a bit of advice.

Too many people like you have contempt for anything that has to do with the law.

You'd like to take it into your own hands.

But when you do that, you might as well be living in a jungle.

I picked up a girl.

If she hadn't gotten in my way, I wouldn't have stopped.

She must be connected with something big.

Mike, why don't you tell us what you know...

then step aside like a nice fella and let us do our job?

- What's in it for me? -

Mikey! Mikey!

Hey, Sammy. Look. My friend just returned from the grave.

Hey, Mike!

Va-va-voom!

I'm sure glad you're back, Mike- Like Lazarus, rose out from the grave.

Now tell me, what happened? What did you do, huh?

Did you drive too fast in that new rod?

Where is it? Velda says you were gonna pick it up.