(RAPPING OF KEY ON GLASS DOOR...DOOR OPEN..IN WITH WIND B.G. AND OCCASIONAL SOUND OF AUTOMOBILE HORN OFF)

 

WATCHMAN:

Well?

GLADYS:

(FADE ON) I want to see Sam Spade.

WATCHMAN:

Listen, Lady, this is a Office building and I ain't supposed to take nobody up after hours...

GLADYS:

I'm Gladys Dean. You've seen me around here before after hours..with Mr. Spade.

WATCHMAN:

Yeah, but...

GLADYS:

I just want to know if he's in his office?

WATCHMAN:

Well...I saw a light up there a while ago...

GLADYS:

Okay. I'll walk up...

(CLOSE DOOR..EFFECT OF WIND OUT..IN WITH SOUND OF HIGH HEELS ON TILE FLOOR)

 

WATCHMAN:

The stairs are right there by the...

GLADYS:

I've been up them before...

(HIGH HEELS ASCENDING TILE STEPS..SUSTAIN..THEN OPEN DOOR OFF)

 

GLADYS:

Who's that..who's there?

(STEPS FALTER..STOP)

 

(SOFTLY WHISTLING 'THEY DIDN'T BELIEVE ME'....FADE ON)

 

(WHISTLE BUILDS)

 

GLADYS:

(RECOGNITION) Oh...I want to see you...You've got to do something for me....You know how things have been with me..You know I'm on the level, don't you?....(PAUSE) Don't you? (PAUSE) Why don't you answer me? (FRIGHT) ..What's the matter with you?..What are you doing? ..What are you doing?....Let me....(STIFLED SCREAM)

(THREE RAPID THUDS AS KNIFE STRIKES BODY..POWERFUL, SAVAGE. ...SOUND OF BODY FALLING DOWN STAIRS)

 

MUSIC:

(FAN UP WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY..BRIDGE)

(ACCENTUATED BUZZ OF SWITCHBOARD)

 

EFFIE:

Good morning.....Sam Spade Detective Agency.

VOICE:

(OVER FILTER) Who?

EFFIE:

Sam Spade...S-P-A-D-E....You know - A shovel without cuffs.

VOICE:

(OVER FILTER) Never heard of him......

EFFIE:

Never heard of Sam - the most unpredictable man?

VOICE:

(OVER FILTER) Nope....Come again...

EFFIE:

Remember "The Maltese Falcon" - the movie?

VOICE:

(OVER FILTER) Best mystery picture I ever saw. So what?

EFFIE:

Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade was the detective in "The Maltese Falcon"...

VOICE:

(OVER FILTER) Why didn't you say so in the first place. I'd like to see more of that guy Sam Spade.

EFFIE:

You will, mister..just hold your hat.

ANNR:

That's right, Effie Perine. Your boss, Sam Spade, is going back to work again. The toughest, wisest, most unpredictable detective in all mystery fiction. Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade begins a radio series tonight, brought to you by a sponsor.

(ORCHESTRA)

 

(BUZZ OF SWITCHBOARD)

 

EFFIE:

Sam Spade Detective Agency...Good morning..Who..well I can't help it if he promised to call you, Miss Kelly..He's a very busy man...Yes, yes, I will...Goodbye....

(CLICK OF SWITCHBOARD...DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)

 

SPADE:

Morning, Sweetheart...

EFFIE:

(CONCERNED) Sam!

SPADE:

Yeah?

EFFIE:

Flaherty called up from Headquarters..He and Byrnes are coming over, Sam.

SPADE:

What do those flat-feet want?

EFFIE:

Sam, are you all right?

SPADE:

Sure.

EFFIE:

That girl you've been going around with...that Miss Dean...she was killed last night...

SPADE:

(CASUALLY) Yeah, I know...

EFFIE:

How do you know?

SPADE:

I read the papers, Sweetheart...

EFFIE:

She was strangled ..and stabbed right outside there on the steps...

SPADE:

Skip it, Sweetheart...Who's in my office?

EFFIE:

Why, nobody...I didn't let anybody into your...

SPADE:

Then somebody let himself in...

(FOOTSTEPS ..DOOR OPEN QUICKLY)

 

SPADE:

What's going on in here?

BUZZ:

My name is Joseffi Balsamo Buzzati.....

SPADE:

Your name is Joseffi Balsamo Buzzati and you're playing with dynamite...

BUZZ:

Perhaps I should explain...

SPADE:

That the elevator boy opened the door for you for ten bucks, huh?

BUZZ:

The door was open, Mr. Spade, I didn't know...I just came in.

SPADE:

(CALMING) I see...

BUZZ:

I have only been sitting and waiting for you...

SPADE:

Uh hmm...(HARD) You should have remembered to close my file cabinet after you got through..sitting and waiting for me...

(SLAM FILE CABINET)

 

SPADE:

Who are you working for?

BUZZ:

Working?...I am working for no one...

SPADE:

Who are you working for?

(BLOW OF FIST..CRASH)

 

BUZZ:

(PLEADINGLY) Mr. Spade..

EFFIE:

(FADE ON) Sam..what's happening?

SPADE:

Now get out of here before I lose my sweet disposition...Mr. Buzzati.

BUZZ:

Please...I must talk with you...

SPADE:

Phone for an appointment some time....and don't give your right name...Now blow...

BUZZ:

Yes...yes....I will go...I will go...(FADING) But I will phone you...You will hear from me, Mr. Spade...You will hear from me...

SPADE:

(CHUCKLE) Maybe I'd better set a few rat-traps around this office. What do you want, Sweetheart?

EFFIE:

Flaherty and Byrnes are outside, Sam, you've got to be careful....

SPADE:

You're excited, Sweetheart...You look pretty when you're excited...

EFFIE:

You've got to listen to me...

FLAHERTY:

(FADE ON) Hello, Spade...

EFFIE:

Just a minute, I didn't say you could...

FLAHERTY:

Take it easy, sister...Come on in, Byrnes...

SPADE:

Not busting in or anything, are you, boys?

FLAHERTY:

We thought you might want to talk to us, Spade.

SPADE:

Yeah....I've been sitting here eating my heart out for you....Now get this....

BYRNES:

You get this...

FLAHERTY:

Take it easy, Byrnes....We got something you might be interested in, Sam....

SPADE:

Yeah? What?

FLAHERTY:

This... (METALLIC CLINK AS KNIFE IS LAID ON DESK) ...kind of knife they call a Flemish Kidney Dagger... It's the little ice-pick that did the job....

SPADE:

On who?

FLAHERTY:

Miss Gladys Dean....Your girl, Sam.

SPADE:

I don't have girls, Flaherty....Miss Dean was a friend of mine.

BYRNES:

That ain't the way we heard it....

SPADE:

You're putting on weight, Byrnes...You want to be careful....You look too much like a cop already...

FLAHERTY:

We're trying to give you the breaks, Sam...Don't you see, we come to get the story from you...So far we only talked to the night watchman....Come on, Sam. Clean up.

SPADE:

What do you want?

BYRNES:

We want to ask a couple of questions! Where were you last night? What was wrong between you and the dame?!!

SPADE:

Now I'll ask one. Have you got a warrant?

FLAHERTY:

Now, Sam...

SPADE:

Then clear out of here....You heard me. Go play cop and robber on somebody else's time...

FLAHERTY:

Where'd you buy it, Sam?

SPADE:

What?

FLAHERTY:

The knife.

SPADE:

(LAUGHS) .... Are you guys kidding?

BYRNES:

You killed her. She came here with blood in her eye and you met her on the steps and....

SPADE:

(POWERFUL) Shut up!! .... Listen, you monkeys, if you're ever gonna get those brass buttons, you've got to keep on your toes...

FLAHERTY:

What do you mean, Sam?

SPADE:

I wasn't here last night. I was at Goldie's place... All night...in a stud game...

BYRNES:

The alibi.

SPADE:

Try and crack it.

FLAHERTY:

That's what we'll have to do, Sam...

SPADE:

And do it now...

FLAHERTY:

(FADING) Come on, Byrnes...

SPADE:

And don't come back till you're ready to make a pinch...

FLAHERTY:

(OFF) Sorry you feel that way, Spade...

SPADE:

That's the way I feel...

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

EFFIE:

I'm glad you told them, Sam....Now they'll keep away from you...

SPADE:

Yeah? Why?

EFFIE:

Goldie'll tell them you were there and that'll be the end of it...

SPADE:

Why should Goldie lie for me? I was working late at the office that night.

EFFIE:

You mean you were here in the office?

SPADE:

I like your hair up like that, Sweetheart...Makes you look like an old-fashioned girl...

EFFIE:

Why did you tell them that, if you weren't there?

SPADE:

I need time, baby, time...Goldie doesn't open till five in the afternoon...

EFFIE:

Oh, Sam....

SPADE:

Take it easy.. What did that night watchman have to say?

EFFIE:

I don't know....He....he

SPADE:

Did they find any finger-prints?

EFFIE:

Only the marks around her throat where she'd been strangled.

SPADE:

I see...

(OPEN DESK DRAWER)

 

EFFIE:

Sam...if there's anything I can do...

SPADE:

You could put things where I ask you to, Effie... Where are those letters from Gladys Dean...the ones I gave you yesterday?

EFFIE:

I put them in your top drawer just like you said to do.

SPADE:

They're not here, Sweetheart...

EFFIE:

I haven't been near your desk all morning.

SPADE:

Somebody has...Effie..

EFFIE:

Yes?

SPADE:

I want a notice in all the personal columns of all the afternoon papers.

EFFIE:

Go ahead --

SPADE:

Type this out, baby....(DICTATING) Buzzati... B-U-Z-Z-A-T-I

(CLICK OF TYPEWRITER)

 

SPADE:

Changed my mind...Think I can help you. Get in touch with me at once...Type in this telephone number and sign it Spade...

(CLICK OF TYPEWRITER UP TO)

 

MUSIC:

(BRIDGE WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY)

(B.G. MURMUR....BELL HOPS CALLING...ETC. OF LOBBY)

 

OPERATOR:

(OFF) Hotel Sherwick, good afternoon....Hotel Sherwick.....

(OPEN ELEVATOR DOORS)

 

ELEV. BOY:

Going up, sir?

SPADE:

Yeh.

(FOOTSTEPS..CLOSE ELEVATOR DOORS..B.G. OUT..START ELEVATOR WHINE)

 

ELEV. BOY:

Yes sir?

SPADE:

Room 322...

ELEV. BOY:

Mr. Buzzati?

SPADE:

Yeh.

ELEV. BOY:

Is he expecting you?

SPADE:

Yeh. He's expecting me..

(WHINE STOPS..OPEN ELEV. DOORS)

 

ELEV. BOY:

Yes sir..322...second on your left, sir..

SPADE:

Thanks..(STEPS)

(CLOSE ELEVATOR DOORS..FOOTSTEPS..THEN KNOCK ON DOOR..KNOCK AGAIN..KNOCK AGAIN AND OPEN DOOR...)

 

MUSIC:

(FADE ON PIANO PLAYING "THEY DIDN'T BELIEVE ME")

ANN:

(SINGING SOFTLY) I'm the girl whose boy one day you'll be..They'll never believe me..(CLOSE DOOR) (SPEAKS)...Just put the tray on the table, waiter...I'll sign the check..(SINGS)..that from this great big world you've chosen..(PAUSE..PIANO GOES ON)....Well, what are you waiting for?

SPADE:

I like the tune.

MUSIC:

(DISCHORD -- PIANO JANGLES OUT)

ANN:

Who are you?

SPADE:

I was just passing by in the hall and I heard you playing. Mind if I listen.

ANN:

(AFTER A PAUSE) Unh unh...

MUSIC:

(TAKES UP PIANO MELODY AGAIN)

SPADE:

Nice song.

ANN:

My manager thinks I ought to put it in my routine...

SPADE:

Night club singer?

ANN:

Yes..

SPADE:

Where's Buzzati?

ANN:

He's not in right now...I answered your notice in the Journal, Mr. Spade.

SPADE:

Who are you, baby?

ANN:

I'm Ann Garrand..Friend of Mr. Buzzati's....He was in your office this morning, wasn't he?

SPADE:

You ought to work on a quiz program.

ANN:

Did he tell you anything..about it?

SPADE:

Whatever he told me is strictly confidential, sister..

ANN:

If he told you about anything besides the prayer..he's talking through his hat..(PAUSE) ..Did he tell you anything else?

SPADE:

No. He didn't tell me anything except about the prayer.

ANN:

(LAUGHING) I don't think you trust me..

SPADE:

After all these years, Miss Garrand?

ANN:

You're right. We haven't been acquainted long, have we? Drink?

SPADE:

Always...

MUSIC:

(PIANO OUT)

ANN:

I'll have to get some clean glasses.. (FADING) ..Just make yourself at home...

SPADE:

I usually do...

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

SPADE:

(HUMS MELODY SOFTLY)

(DRAWERS BEING JERKED OUT QUICKLY)

 

MUSIC:

(TAKE UP MELODY FOR AGITATO TREATMENT..BUILD FOR SHARP BREAK WITH)

(OPEN DOOR)

 

ANN:

(FADE ON WHISTLING..ABRUPT STOP) What are you doing?

SPADE:

Taking a look around.

ANN:

You didn't ask me.

SPADE:

I was afraid you'd say no..

ANN:

I see. Okay...Oh...What do you drink?

SPADE:

Scotch..

ANN:

I'll have to call down for some...

(CLICK OF PHONE)

 

SPADE:

There's four bottles of Scotch behind the bar.

ANN:

Hello...hello...

SPADE:

Put down that phone!

ANN:

(HURRIEDLY) Hello...There's a man in my room...Send Archie, the porter up..quick...

(PHONE BEING KNOCKED TO THE FLOOR)

 

ANN:

I don't want anybody ransacking this joint.

SPADE:

I get the idea.

ANN:

You'd better beat it, Mr. Spade, unless you want to waste time explaining to a plug-ugly porter who's crazy mad in love with me...

SPADE:

Tell Buzzati I want to hear from him..

ANN:

Okay...and no hard feelings, baby.

SPADE:

(STEPS) I'll see you later.

ANN:

(FADING) ...I'll see you later, baby..

MUSIC:

(PIANO TAKES UP MELODY)

(DOOR OPEN AND CLOSE)

 

MUSIC:

(OUT)

(FOOTSTEPS..OPEN ELEVATOR DOORS)

 

ELEV. BOY:

Going down, sir?

SPADE:

Quick service, Buddy...Weren't waiting at the floor for me all this time, were you?

ELEV. BOY:

We try to please, sir...

(CLOSE ELEV. DOORS..WHINE BEGINS)

 

SPADE:

What kind of hotel is this?

ELEV. BOY:

It's a theatrical hotel, sir...You see all the stars here..Why, only the other day I saw...Oh, but I'm sure it doesn't interest you, does it?

SPADE:

I said down. What are you going up for?

ELEV. BOY:

(NO CHANGE IN TONE) The gentleman on eleven wants to see you, Mr. Spade.

SPADE:

Who?

ELEV. BOY:

The gentleman on eleven....Mr. Portlass...Of course, sir, if you'd rather not.

SPADE:

Why not?

ELEV. BOY:

Right, sir.

(TAKE WHINE OF ELEVATOR UP TO..)

 

MUSIC:

(TAKE UP WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY FOR BRIDGE)

(DOOR OPEN..SOFT SHUDDER OF GONG)

 

PORT:

(OFF) Who's there?

ELEV. BOY:

Mr. Spade's here, sir..

PORT:

(OFF) Ah, send him in..send him in...

(FOOTSTEPS) (IN TIME WITH MUSIC)

 

MUSIC:

(FIRST PHRASE OF MELODY..MENACE..SUSTAIN SHIMMERING CHORD..OUT)

PORT:

Mr. Spade, sir..Allow me to introduce myself..I am J. G. Portlass...artist's representative..carnivals, tent shows...

SPADE:

(COLD) What did you want to see me about?

PORT:

(CHUCKLES) Very direct, sir...very direct. Might I be as direct with you and ask you an honest question?

SPADE:

There's nothing like trying.

PORT:

Are you the kind of gentleman who would be interested in sharing in a fortune of some...two hundred thousand dollars?

SPADE:

Yeh...I'm that kind of gentleman.

PORT:

Good, sir.. There was a Mr. Buzzati in your office this morning...

SPADE:

Was there?

PORT:

Did he talk to you about a certain matter? Did he perhaps mention...the prayer, Mr. Spade?

SPADE:

He might have...

PORT:

I see.....(DIRECT) Where is The Persian?

SPADE:

The Persian? I thought he was an Italian...

PORT:

What? Oh... Ha, ha... Very clever. Pretending to think I mean Morbi.

SPADE:

Who's Morbi?

PORT:

Morbi is Mr. Buzzati. Pet name, Morbi, given him by his lady friends.... No, I don't mean him, sir.... You know what I mean - The Persian, sir!

SPADE:

Why should I crack to you?

PORT:

You're a bit worried about the sad case of .... Miss Gladys Dean, are you not?

SPADE:

If you know anything about what happened last night.. Lay it out, Portlass.

PORT:

I will, sir....

(LOW SHUDER OF GONG)

 

(OPEN DOOR)

 

ROC:

(FADE ON) You rang for me, Mr. Portlass?

PORT:

Yes, Mr. Roc..... This is my assistant, Mr. Spade... Lattimer Roc... Once one of my foremost clients... Superb hypnosis and mind-reading act..

SPADE:

When I'm in the market for a snake charmer I'll call you, Portlass --

PORT:

(CHUCKLES) Right, Sir...Mr. Roc, will you open the first drawer of file B and give me what we shall call Exhibit One..

ROC:

Oh, yes..yes...I know what you mean, sir. (OPEN FILE) Here you are, sir..

(CLINK OF KNIFE ON DESK)

 

PORT:

Interesting copy of a Flemish Kidney Dagger..I had it made some time ago along with eleven others for a certain professional knife thrower who's under my management...

SPADE:

Buzzati...

PORT:

The Great Buzzati...

SPADE:

You're telling me he killed Miss Dean?

ROC:

Mr. Portlass is making no accusations..He would like to point out that Miss Dean was amongst Buzzati's numerous lady-loves before she turned her eyes on you...

SPADE:

I thought Miss Garrand was Buzzati's girl ...

PORT:

He is not a one-woman man, sir..He skillfully has kept Miss Garrand in ignorance of his escapades..(CHUCKLES) It would relieve the pressure a good deal if you could present this little weapon to Messrs. Flaherty and Byrnes of the city police, eh?

SPADE:

What do you want to know?

PORT:

I am interested in the immediate whereabouts of the Persian....can you help me, Sir?

SPADE:

Maybe .. for dough ... and with a little time ...

PORT:

By what time, Sir.......

SPADE:

Wait a minute..Who is this Persian?

PORT:

Oh...I'm afraid I can't answer that question, Sir...

SPADE:

You can't!

PORT:

No sir...only a handful of people know that, sir. You must understand..

(KNOCK OVER CHAIR)

 

PORT:

Mr. Spade!

SPADE:

(RAVING) I understand I'm getting strung along with a 'now-you-see-it-now-you-don't' routine. You think you can sit there with aces up your sleeve and ask me questions.

PORT:

Please Sir ...

SPADE:

You need me more than I need you, Wise Guy...I'll be around at five o'clock to do business if you're ready to loosen up...If not, you can drop dead, you and the hypnotist and the rest of the animal act...Good-bye Mr. Portlass!

(DOOR OPEN AND SLAM)

 

SPADE:

(PANTS) (LAUGHS SOFTLY TO HIMSELF) Nice going, Spade - nice going.

MUSIC:

(IN WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY FOR BRIDGE)

OPERATOR:

Hotel Sherwick, good afternoon...Yes..thank you...(CLICK OF SWITCHBOARD) Yes, what can I do for you?

FLAHERTY:

(FADE ON) You seen a Mr. Sam Spade, mister...?

OPERATOR:

Spade?...No, I don't think so.

BYRNES:

We know he was here..

OPERATOR:

He might have gone up without coming to the desk...I don't know...

(ELEVATOR DOOR OPEN OFF)

 

FLAHERTY:

There he is getting off the elevator..Come on, Byrnes..(FOOTSTEPS..SLOW THEN QUICKER PACE) Hello, Sam...

SPADE:

You got nothing better to do than play tag with me, Flaherty?

BYRNES:

We did something else..

FLAHERTY:

That warrant you asked about, Sam..

SPADE:

You got it?

FLAHERTY:

Uh uh.... Goldie said he didn't see you last night, Sam.

SPADE:

(PAUSE) So?

FLAHERTY:

Come on outside...people are looking...

(DOOR OPEN..IN WITH TRAFFIC B.G...DOOR CLOSE)

 

SPADE:

What's the charge?

FLAHERTY:

What's the use stalling, Sam? ..we got the warrant.. Flag a cab, Byrnes...

BYRNES:

(UP) Hey, hack...(WHISTLES)

(BRAKES..CAR STOP)

 

FLAHERTY:

Come on....Get in, Sam..You can call your lawyer from... (CAR DOOR OPEN) This cab is taken..Get another one, Byrnes, an......

BUZZ:

(FADE ON) You will not need another one...

SPADE:

Buzzati.

BUZZ:

Keep the gun levelled, Miss Garrand...Get inside, Mr. Spade..Come on.....turn him loose...

SPADE:

Looks like you two guys will have to get along without me.

FLAHERTY:

This won't make it any easier on you...Sam...

BUZZ:

Inside, Mr. Spade..Get back, you two..Back! Now! Close the door, driver....

(CAR DOOR SLAM..START MOTOR)

 

ANN:

Hello, Mr. Spade...

SPADE:

Told you I'd see you again, baby....

BUZZ:

Duck around the corner here, Driver...

(MOTOR UP - SQUEAL TIRES)

 

BUZZ:

Okay - stop --

(SHRIEK BRAKES) (OPEN DOOR)

 

ANN:

Outside, Mr. Spade --

SPADE:

Can't make up your mind.

BUZZ:

We're changing cabs -- (CALL) Taxi --

(FADE MOTOR ON - OPEN CAR DOOR)

 

BUZZ:

To the Feather and Plume Costume Company on River Street, driver...

(MOTOR INTO SECOND...THEN UP TO THIRD)

 

BUZZ:

Happy to see you, Mr. Spade...I've missed you.....

MUSIC:

(UP WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY FOR BRIDGE)

(DOOR OPEN...FOOTSTEPS)

 

COSTUMER:

Right this way, Mr. Buzzati. We've just finished the new set of knives you ordered.

SPADE:

What's the matter, lose one of the old ones...Buzzati?

COSTUMER:

Here you are, sir....We've weighted the handles exactly the same as those Flemish kidney daggers we....

BUZZ:

Yes, yes...Thank you very much...

COSTUMER:

The target's there on the wall...

BUZZ:

Thank you...

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

BUZZ:

Now, Mr. Spade...do sit down....Keep the gun steady, Miss Garrand....You don't mind if I test these instruments while we have our little talk...

SPADE:

Help yourself, Buzzati --

BUZZ:

You've been getting around a good deal, Mr. Spade...You saw Mr. Portlass, didn't you, eh?....He told you where The Persian is...didn't he?...(EFFORT)

(CLINK AS KNIFE HITS TARGET)

 

SPADE:

Bad shot, Buzzati...you're way off the bull's eye...

BUZZ:

Come now....did he tell you about The Beggar?

SPADE:

Beggar?

BUZZ:

You know what I mean....Come on.....talk!! (EFFORT)

(CHINK OF KNIFE)

 

BUZZ:

I don't like to threaten you, but --

(DOOR OPEN)

 

COSTUMER:

Pardon, Mr. Buzzati....Phone for you, sir....

BUZZ:

(FIERCE) I do not want to be disturbed...(CHANGE) All right, all right, I'll get it...You will excuse me, Mr. Spade...

SPADE:

Gladly, Buzzati...gladly.

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

ANN:

You were saved by the bell that time, baby... Buzzati usually gets what he wants...

SPADE:

Yeh.

ANN:

You'll have your hands full explaining to those two cops, won't you?

SPADE:

I don't know...

ANN:

Are you going to beat that Dean rap?

SPADE:

Maybe....There's one point that could pull me through...

ANN:

What's that?

SPADE:

A love letter they found in her purse...

ANN:

Who was it from?

SPADE:

Just signed with a nick-name...Morbi.

ANN:

What?

SPADE:

Morbi....M-O-R-B-I....

ANN:

I see...(WHISTLES MELODY WITH THOUGHTFUL VENOM)

(OPEN DOOR)

 

BUZZ:

(FADE ON)....And now, Mr. Spade, we'll continue our little talk...

SPADE:

I don't think so, Buzzati...

BUZZ:

Stay where you are!

SPADE:

Put that knife down and get out of my way....

BUZZ:

I'll put it where it'll do the most good....(EFFORT)

(CHINK)

 

SPADE:

You're slipping, Buzzati...

(STEADY FOOTSTEPS)

 

BUZZ:

Shoot....Shoot, Miss Garrand....Shoot, I tell you...do you hear me?

ANN:

(WHISTLES MELODY)

SPADE:

Miss Garrand isn't interested...Take it easy, Buzzati, I'll show you a couple of tricks I picked up in a bar room...

(FOOTSTEPS....THEN THREE RAPID POWERFUL BLOWS OF THE FIST...GROAN...BODY FALL)

 

MUSIC:

(IN WITH TREATMENT OF MELODY FOR BRIDGE)

(BUZZ OF SWITCHBOARD)

 

EFFIE:

Sam Spade Detective Agency...good afternoon...

SPADE:

(FILTER) Hello, Sweetheart...

EFFIE:

Sam.....Sam...Flaherty says you ducked him and Byrnes in front of the Sherwick Hotel..

SPADE:

That's right, Sweetheart....

EFFIE:

Sam...You got to meet me at the Dollar Billiard Hall right away...

SPADE:

Why, baby?

EFFIE:

Flaherty phoned and said..You be at the Dollar Billiard Hall in half an hour or he's throwing out the drag net for you.... Meet me there right away, Sam....Say you will.... just for me...

SPADE:

Okay, sweetheart...just for you...

MUSIC:

(QUICK BRIDGE)

(CLICK OF BILLIARD CUES....B.G. MURMUR)

 

VOICE II:

Hey, Louie, rack 'em up...

VOICE III:

That's not the way...that's a two cushion shot...

EFFIE:

(FADE ON) Excuse me...Has Mr. Spade come in yet?

VOICE II:

Spade? Haven't seen him...

VOICE III:

Maybe he won't be coming in...I hear he was...

(DOOR OPEN....AND CLOSE)

 

EFFIE:

Sam...

SPADE:

(FADE ON).....Hello, sweetheart...

EFFIE:

Oh, Sam, are you all right?

SPADE:

Sure...

EFFIE:

You think you'll be able to square yourself with him?

SPADE:

With who?.... Flaherty?.... (LAUGH) I'm not worried about him.....I've been mixed up with knife throwers and hypnotists and mugs that make him look like a cocker spaniel in a wild animal act, sweetheart..

EFFIE:

But, Sam, they think you killed that Dean girl... Don't you realize ...

(DOOR OPEN)

 

BEGGAR:

(OFF... FADING ON) Illah.... Illah... Illah... Illah.. Charity... give twenty-five cents for a place in Paradise.. Read in leaflet all about it.... Illah... Illah....

SPADE:

Who's that guy?

EFFIE:

I don't know... some beggar... please listen to me, Sam..

SPADE:

Beggar!

VOICE II:

Come on... scram.. no bums allowed...

BEGGAR:

No bum... Prophet of Paradise..Take leaflet... here... here....

(RUSTLE OF PAPER)

 

VOICE II:

Can it... get him out of here....

BEGGAR:

Take leaflet... take leaflet...

EFFIE:

He's trying to give you one, Sam...

BEGGAR:

Take leaflet... (SUDDEN CHANGE TO QUIET, CULTURED ACCENT) .. Take one, Mr. Spade... Take this one... and don't throw it away...

SPADE:

Huh?

BEGGAR:

The Persian... (UP) Give twenty-five cents for place in Paradise... (FADING) ... Illah... Illah... Illah.. Illah.......

EFFIE:

What did he say to you...?.....What's on that paper, Sam? ... Let me see....

(RUSTLE)

EFFIE:

(READING) ..The Persian arrives with Paradise... Number 2281... What does that mean?....

(FOOTSTEPS)

 

EFFIE:

Sam, where you going?... Flaherty'll be here in a minute....

SPADE:

(FADING) I got better things to do than stand around waiting for a policeman...

EFFIE:

Sam!

(DOOR SLAM)

 

MUSIC:

(TREATMENT OF MELODY FOR BRIDGE)

(FLING DOOR OPEN... HURRIED STEPS ON)

 

PORT:

(FADE ON PROJECTING) Miss Garrand... Miss Garrand!

BUZZ:

(FADE ON) She's not here.

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

(DOOR OPEN OFF)

 

PORT:

We'll wait.. she will come home in time... Sit down, Mr. Buzzati.. Ah, I'm glad you've come around, sir.. We cannot afford to be divided at a time like this...

BUZZ:

But if neither of us knows where The Persian is, Portlass....

PORT:

We shall know soon, sir...Mister Sam Spade is coming at five with the information.

BUZZ:

Spade! I don't want to see him....

PORT:

(CHUCKLE) I've noted the bruised condition of your jaw....

(PHONE RING)

 

PORT:

Your pardon, sir...

(TAKE RECEIVER FROM HOOK)

 

PORT:

Hello...yes... yes... excellent.. (ASIDE) He's here! Yes, send him up... (CLICK OF PHONE) Perhaps you would like to retire to the bedroom, Mr. Buzzati...

BUZZ:

(FADING) Yes. I don't want to see him again just yet.. Not just yet.

(DOOR CLOSE)

 

PORT:

(QUICKLY) Now, Mr. Roc, if Mr. Spade is in possession of the information we want, we may be forced to rely on your hypnotic talents to relieve him of it.

ROC:

Yes sir... His mind will be an open book to me.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

 

PORT:

Good... Open the door for him...

(DOOR OPEN.. STEPS)

 

PORT:

I see you are a punctual man, Mr. Spade...

SPADE:

(FADE ON) Skip it, Portlass. I'm here on business..

PORT:

You have the information?

SPADE:

I'll hold up my end. All you have to do is level with me.

PORT:

Very well, Sir, I shall "level" with you.... Put up your hands! Sit down, Mr. Spade, sit down... Ah, now Mr. Roc, you may go to work...

ROC:

Thank you, sir... (WHISPER) Relax, Mr. Spade... relax...

SPADE:

What's the wrinkle?

ROC:

Magnetic hypnotism, Mr. Spade... You are drifting... you are drifting...

SPADE:

Get him away from me.

ROC:

You are drifting, Sam Spade. Sleep is rolling over you.

SPADE:

Get -- him -- 'way --

ROC:

... sleep... sleep... sleep...

PORT:

(WHISPER) Is he under?

ROC:

We shall see, Sir... Sam Spade?.. Where's the Persian, Sam Spade?

SPADE:

Persian... Persian arrives with Paradise... Number 2-2-8-1...

PORT:

That's it! 2281 [...] we've got [it], Mr. Roc, we've got it!

ROC:

But what does it mean, Sir?

PORT:

Eminently simple. The Paradise is the name of a tent show. The Mammoth Paradise Carnival...

ROC:

Where do we find it, Sir? Where do we find it?

PORT:

It's lying unloaded in the train-yard of the Townsend Street Railroad Terminal.... Mr. Roc... Quick, my hay.. my stick. No time to lose!

ROC:

Yes sir...

SPADE:

(CALM) What's your hurry? (REACTION) Back up, Portlass...

PORT:

Spade!

SPADE:

You're not the only one who carries iron.. Come on... reach!

PORT:

Roc, you fool... he wasn't under...

SPADE:

It was time to play dead, Portlass.. I wanted you to tell me what the Paradise gag is all about... Now I'm cutting myself a piece of this cake...

PORT:

There's no way to prevent you, sir. You shall be a full partner now, Spade. Yes, we shall share and share alike.

(CRASH AS CHAIR STRIKES HEAD... CRASH AGAIN AS IT SHATTERS. GROANS. FALL.)

 

PORT:

Good work, Buzzati! Good work, man!

BUZZ:

(FADE ON PANTING) Lucky I was in the bedroom.

PORT:

(JUBILANT) Lucky! This is our lucky day, Mr. Buzzati... we have an appointment with the Persian at the Townsend Street train-yard... Our fortunes are made, Mr. Roc, Mr. Buzzati.... our fortunes are made!

MUSIC:

(IN WITH BRIDGE... BLEND INTO MELODY ON PIANO)

SPADE:

(GROAN)

ANN:

(CASUALLY) You're coming out of it, baby.

SPADE:

Huh? Oh... Oh, hello... Ugh... Where've you been?

ANN:

Sneaked in after the others took a powder...Found you laid out here... Somebody hit you with a chair and...

SPADE:

Yeh... (SNAPPING OUT OF IT) Yeh, I remember now. Telephone. Where's the telephone?

ANN:

Right by the bar... Who you...?

(TAKE RECEIVER FROM HOOK)

 

SPADE:

Hello. Hello. I want Overland 3224... and hurry it up, sister....(PAUSE) That must be your favorite tune, baby....

ANN:

It's my manager's favorite tune. He wants it in the act.

SPADE:

Yeh? Who's your manager?

ANN:

Mr. Portlass...

SPADE:

Oh... he is? I see...

ANN:

You see what?

SPADE:

I'll tell you sometime... (UP) Hello, Effie... Sam... I want to... Yeh, yeh, I know the wires are tapped... Want to tell you I'll be at the Townsend Street train-yard... Yeh, the Townsend Street train-yard...

MUSIC:

(IN AND UP FOR BRIDGE...OUT UNDER)

(BANGING AND PUFFING OF TRAINS... OFF)

 

ROC:

(LOW WHISTLE AS SIGNAL)

PORT:

(FADE ON WITH STEPS) (PROJECT WHISPER) Yes, Roc...what is it?

ROC:

Found it! Here's the box car, sir... Number 2281...

PORT:

Yes, by Hannibal, he's right...

(GRATING OF BOX CAR DOOR... SCUFFLING OF FEET)

 

PORT:

Inside quick... here, lend me a hand... (EFFORT) There... Now, up, Mr. Roc... Hah... There we are... Close it, Buzzati, close it, sir...

(CLOSE BOX CAR DOOR.) (EFFECTS OUT)

 

(STEPS)

 

PORT:

Ah, excellent... Now, Roc, you will search the far end... Mr. Buzzati and I will take this side...

ROC:

(FADE WITH STEPS) Yes...sir... yes sir, Mr. Portlass.

PORT:

(STEPS) Think of it... think of it, Mr. Buzzati...we are in the presence of the Persian... Think, sir... we shall roll in wealth for the rest of --

ROC:

(OFF...EXCITED) Mr. Portlass... Mr. Portlass!

PORT:

Yes, Roc?

ROC:

Look here. Right here... as sure as I'm alive! (EFFORT) The Persian...

PORT:

Run... run [and] help him, Buzzati... (STEPS... DRAG RUG) Ah, careful... careful... gentlemen... You are handling a priceless treasure..

(GRATING OF DOOR...OPENING)

 

BUZZ:

What's that?

PORT:

The door... It can only be one man. You should have killed him, Buzzati!

SPADE:

He did his best, Portlass. (EFFORT) Come on up, Miss Garrand.. It's open house...

ANN:

(FADE ON) Hope we're not breaking up the party.

PORT:

No. Even Mr. Spade's presence cannot spoil this moment.. We have found The Persian.

ANN:

The Persian!

PORT:

You have caused me enough trouble, Mr. Spade. If you try to leave this car, I shall most certainly blow your brains out...Close the door, Mr. Roc!

(CLOSE CAR DOOR)

 

SPADE:

I'll stick around. I want to see him.

ANN:

Who?

SPADE:

The Persian...

PORT:

(LAUGHS) The Persian is not a man, sir... but a rug! A priceless Persian rug stolen centuries ago from the Mosque at St. Sophia.. Yes, Mr. Spade, here is the Persian at my feet. Worth a king's ransom...

SPADE:

I see.. And where're you collecting, Portlass? Who's buying?

PORT:

There's not a thieves' market in the world without a fence who'd sacrifice his soul for the rug... once he's sure of the prayer...

SPADE:

The prayer... That's where I came in.

PORT:

Unroll it, Mr. Roc. Unroll the beautiful thing. Show Mr. Spade the inscription.

ROC:

Yes sir....

(FLAPPING AS RUG IS UNROLLED)

 

PORT:

It is inscribed with the words... Allah... Y'Allah, Alahu Akbar... Words sacred to four million worshippers... Have you found the prayer, Roc?

ROC:

I'm looking, sir.

PORT:

So you see, what it lacks in intrinsic worth is made up in religious value... An enviable possession, sir, and one which....

ROC:

Mr. Portlass... Mr. Portlass... I can't find it... It's not here....

PORT:

What? ... What are you saying, man?

BUZZ:

What's he talking about?

ROC:

The prayer...it's not here...

PORT:

No!...Let me see....Impossible....

BUZZ:

It can't be... It can't be...

SPADE:

You're a bad actor, Buzzati...

PORT:

Eh?....What was that?...What do you mean, Spade?

SPADE:

Ask Buzzati...

BUZZ:

Don't listen to him...he's lying..

PORT:

You...

(STEPS)

 

PORT:

...I should have known. You tricked me, Buzzati. You have the original...

BUZZ:

I should have gotten rid of you long ago...you lying, conniving, double-dealing...

ROC:

Look out, Mr. Portlass!!

SPADE:

(EFFORT) I'll take that gun...Now...Play nice. Come on....Line up there...

PORT:

I deserve it...We allowed you to talk us into squabbling among ourselves.

SPADE:

You're getting smart, Portlass.

(COP'S WHISTLE OFF)

 

PORT:

Wh-what was that?

SPADE:

What did it sound like?

PORT:

A-a policeman's whistle...

SPADE:

I didn't keep it a secret I was comin' here.

PORT:

Then I must appeal to you, sir...You must let me go..I admit there's been some good-natured violence, but I do offer you my humblest apology.

SPADE:

That won't bring Miss Dean back to life, Portlass.

PORT:

But I know nothing of that matter, sir...

SPADE:

Who does?

PORT:

Buzzati does...as I told you before..

SPADE:

Not Buzzati, Portlass. Miss Dean was stabbed at close quarters. Buzzati throws a knife....

PORT:

Then, as I've suspected, it was...Miss Garrand.

SPADE:

Guess again, Portlass....A woman couldn't have pulled that one off...Neither could Mr. Roc. It took a man in his prime to leave marks like those on Miss Dean's throat...

PORT:

I'm...I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning, sir...

SPADE:

You killed Gladys Dean. You killed her because you knew it would look like a natural for Buzzati. You even used his knife to get him in deep because you were afraid he'd beat you to The Persian.

BUZZ:

What do you say, Portlass...What do you say to that?

PORT:

I can only say...Out of my way, gentlemen... I'm getting out of here.. (EFFORT)

(OPEN CAR DOORS WITH SUDDEN FORCE) (FADE IN MURMUR OFF...WHISTLE)

 

BUZZ:

Stop him, Spade!

SPADE:

He's not goin' anywhere. That yard's full of cops and they'll shoot on sight...

FLAHERTY:

(OFF...PROJECT) Get back...Go on...Get back there!!

PORT:

(PROJECT) I'm afraid not, sir....I have other plans...

FLAHERTY:

Open up, boys!!

(ROUND OF SHOTS...GROAN...BODY FALL)

 

ANN:

(SHUDDERING) Oh, Sam...

FLAHERTY:

(FADE ON) Spade...Spade, are you okay?

SPADE:

(THE FINGER) I'm great, Flaherty, except for that murder rap you got on me...

FLAHERTY:

Sorry, Sam...

SPADE:

Forget it...

BEGGAR:

(FADING ON) No. Do not let anyone leave. Do not let anyone leave..

SPADE:

Who's this?

FLAHERTY:

This is Mufti Hassim, Sam. He's the Curator of the treasures of St. Sophia...

SPADE:

Oh yeh....we met before...in The Dollar Billiard Hall..

BEGGAR:

I gave you that leaflet, Mr. Spade, to direct the thieves to this imitation of The Sacred Persian.

SPADE:

For what?

BEGGAR:

I hoped they might furnish me a clue to the original that has been so long lost...

SPADE:

Sorry, Bub. They only know what I've told 'em...and I told 'em what I got from you...

BEGGAR:

(SIGH) Alas...I suppose it will never be found... but the search must go on forever...

PORT:

(OFF) (GROAN)

ROC:

(FADE ON) Mr. Spade...Mr. Portlass is asking for you, sir.

SPADE:

Yeh?....

(STEPS)

 

SPADE:

...What do you want?

PORT:

(WEAKLY) Your hand, sir....

SPADE:

For what?

PORT:

As you would put it...I think they've....'got me'...

SPADE:

You were playin' for keeps, Portlass.

PORT:

I know, sir...This is a moment of supreme defeat...but at least I have lost to an equal...To a master...

MUSIC:

(UP ON QUICK CUE...BRIDGE)

EFFIE:

(FILTER) Sam Spade Detective Agency...Good morning...

SPADE:

Hello, sweetheart...This is Sam..

EFFIE:

Sam! I've been worried to death about you. It's four A.M. Where are you?

MUSIC:

(FADE ON PIANO PLAYING MELODY) (ANN SINGING)

SPADE:

At an Owl's Drug Store. Just dropped in to let you know I was still alive and...

EFFIE:

And since when have they got music in an Owl, Sam?

SPADE:

Haven't you heard, sweetheart. It's a new wrinkle. Musical soda jerks...So long, sweetheart...

MUSIC:

(UP BIG ON QUICK CUE...BIG FINISH TREATMENT OF MELODY MOUNTS UP AND UP AND OUT TO BALANCE)