 Mystery, romance, starring, art, and Lauren Bacall. Together in the sultry setting of Tropical Havana and the mysterious islands of the Caribbean. Once again, the magic names of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. A adventure and a tale of mystery and intrigue. Slate, you should have been with us. Layed up for repairs on a jewel of an island and the girls with a wild orchid. Be gentle with me, Joe. I'm a man of responsibilities now. I've got a boat and a hotel. And me. And her. Every sea orphan to his own paradise, you found yours. And it better not stray from it or I'll beat him over the head with a wild kumquat. You got yourself a Tigris this time, isn't it, Slate? Ah, a kitten. You heard what the man said, a Tigris. Uh-huh. You signing on with the Tampa victory again, Joe? First made on that stinking oil bucket? Oh, no, no. I don't need her anymore. We're done with each other. I just come off her for the last time. Oh? All I need is right here in this little package wrapped in Shanghai silk. I give it to you. Why, thanks. We didn't expect it, did we, Slate? Don't let the tears well up in gratitude, Mr. Val. You're only to keep it for me till I come back for it. Will you do that for an old seaman? Sure. In a good place where no one can touch a greedy finger to it. Let's see. We got a safe. Will that do? Slate keeps all his valuables in it. His necktie. His, uh... That does it. His necktie. It's the best place we've got, Joe. How about it? Just remember that in this bit of silk, you hold the rest of Joe Bishop's life. I'll remember, then take it. Hey, what's that combination again, seller? Don't bother to answer him, honey, because he won't need it. Who asked you, Buster? Slate's peopleite. He's got a gun. You're cute, honey. Hand it over you, the thing in your hand. Give it to Tommy. You know something? I bet he's dead. Anybody want to discuss it? Hell, don't Slate. He'll kill you, too. You'll read me, honey. So around the floor, Slate boy, that's what you tell him, doesn't he, honey? Hold on to a man like that. And now Tommy's gonna go away with it. Because right now, Tommy doesn't want anyone else to die. Mr. Cordovin! Shut up! But, Mr. Cordovin, I brought the package. You said that... My current suggestion to you, Thomas, is to shut up. Sit down and watch. Consider the beauty which surrounds you and savour it if you can. Sit down, Thomas. Corus Girls dancing. Not supposed to send me? See how delicate. That one over there. He's fat, Mr. Cordovin. He's tattooed. Prumative goddess! Doesn't it turn your blood to ice, Thomas, to realise we are here now beyond the reaches of civilisation a part of it? I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Cordovin. This is a crummy walk down joint in Havana with a 50 cent table cover charge. Here's the package. Thank you, Thomas. Did you have any trouble? I killed a man. You did, Thomas. Another life, another death added to the fabulous tears of Siva. Open the package, huh? Of course. Thomas. Gaze. Uh-huh. How much are they worth? Tears of Siva. The priceless tears without flicker-floor, the treasure of the far indies. Ganga Khan laid a city to waste for these. Look, all I see is two-star sapphires. And all I want to know is how much are they worth. They are priceless. Observe them. Pick one up and look at it. It will light up the whole room. Go on, go on, Thomas. Pick one up and look at it. Sure. I first saw these beauties after a pic sticking with the Rajov Similu. He showed them to me. This is pretty. Not the Rajov Similu blade polo. The other one, the one with the wives. Uh-huh. This star sapphire doesn't light up nothing, Mr. Cordovin. What did you say? It don't even show a star. Well? Maybe they're priceless because this ganga's character liked them. But from where I'm sitting, they're dimes to our items. Let me see. What wild joke? Someone has bundled. I'll have his head, do you hear? I'll have his head. Tony. I knocked off a man for two marbles. Give me for losing control, Thomas. Yeah. Someone will die for this. Yeah. A man makes big protest. Two bullets in chest. Give him rest. You think they did that, King? Our man finds peace in many ways, Mr. Slate. He only does not know when it is coming to him. I didn't have to come to him that way. Look, Slate. Maybe Joe Bishop bought it that way. Maybe he could... He tasted wild fruit on a tropical island. He didn't expect to end up on a slab in the police ward. The police will take care of it, Slate. They'll find his murderer. It's out of your hands. Is it? Is that how you want it? Whatever you want, Slate. Take your hand off my arm. Let's go get your coat. I want to talk to the skipper of the Tampa victory. Whatever you want. Send him away, King. I'm not into anyone. Mr. Shannon. One of my last six-quiz advice is eavesdropping. Goodie. Now I don't have to be polite. Thank you, sir. You have come to share your bereavement over the deceased, the deceased Joseph Bishop. And to ask if Joseph's dying song was for me. It might have been. We couldn't make out the words. Joe's pain gotten away. And he had no message for me, for Junius Cordova and his intimate of many places and many memories. No message. The name of a part, perhaps, of a person or a thing. No name. Try for a number. I have consumed your priceless time. Good day. And made the goddesses of whatever be with you. You know what's wrong with a roly-poly man? He's going through life thinking he's skinny. Okay, Mama Freud. Just get your coat. Do I have to, Slade? It's a warm night. Well, we're going. It might turn cold. Get it? Hate to see him. Joe set us. Is that the way you say it, Slade? Look, let me handle it, will you? White Joe sent you. He's a friend of ours. And Joe's a friend of the Skippers. Now we're all friends. Hi. You got the makings? What does Frisker do, you seafaring man, you? He means the makings for cigarettes. Oh, here. They come all put together now. Take one. Thank you. Tell me something, mate. Nope. It's about Joe. Nope. Take the pack. Yep. You were talking about Joe when I interrupted, Mr. Joe and the Skipper friends? They're going to milk cows together. You can't get a lot closer than that, Slade. Real close, them two. Since Port-au-Prince, they pat each other on the back every time they pass. How come since Port-au-Prince? Since then, that's all. Since Haiti. Since the checker game. You can have my cigarettes, too. Let's start with the cows. Nope. Let's start with the checker game. Joe went ashore in Port-au-Prince. Didn't come back. Skipper chewed his pipe stem in two neatly. Tried to get another first mate, couldn't. Called me. Skipper and me went ashore and found Joe. Playing checkers? With a lady. What lady? Owns a sailor's rest in Port-au-Prince. I can hardly wait till the part about the cows. They're going to milk them. Joe and the Skipper. In Pennsylvania. Huh? Sure. Since Port-au-Prince, they decided to quit the sea. Gonna buy a farm in Pennsylvania. And milk cows. Milk cows. Yep. Something happened there in Port-au-Prince, Mr. The man who sails the sea decides no more sailing. Something happened. Changed them two. Let's go talk to the Skipper. Nope. Sleeping. He'll wake up. I tried to stop you. You'd knock me down, wouldn't you? Make you walk the plank. They don't do that no more. They're knocked down. Skipper's sleeping in his cabin. Come on, sailor. Try the door. If you want to handle this, you're going to let me. I'll try the door. See? Skipper's not a tidy man. Sextant off the wall. Coffee stains on the charts. And what a dusty compass. Yeah. Look at the Skipper. Huh? Come here. Look at him. Oh, you should have just told me about it. Stabbed in the heart. Dead. Now, let's get out of here. We got enough fuel on bull venture to get to Port-au-Prince? No, not quite. Why? Because that's where we're going. We'll pick up some gas in Guantanamo. The question's still hanging in midair. Why? Look, two guys had a dream about owning a farm in Pennsylvania. One of them was a friend of mine. I've got a boat that can get me to Haiti. That's not very far to go for a friend. What makes you think the answers are in Haiti? That's where two sailors suddenly decide to become farmers. Whatever brought them that decision also made them dead. Let's go to Haiti, sailor. Looks like they're about ready to shove off, Mr. Cordovin. Give me the glasses, Thomas. Yeah. You might notice, Mr. Cordovin, that the boat and the girl make a pretty picture. Shh, let me enjoy it. That Shannon louses it, huh? Seems very efficient. On your wanderings on the dock did you find out the destination? Yeah. A character whispered to me, Port-au-Prince, Haiti. And here's some money, Thomas. Fire a plane. Where, too? Port-au-Prince, Haiti. I want to give those two an interesting welcome. Our stars, Humphrey Bogart and Lauren McCall, and the second act of our story. Know what they say about this place, Slate? I know what seamen say. What do they say? They say when Paris catches cold, Port-au-Prince sneezes. Well, that's not the way I heard it. The way I heard it, Sailor... Hmm. Those jeans you wear keep throwing me. Then buy me a Paris dress. Maybe that'll make you remember. Look, Sailor, I... Mil, pardon. Monsieur, eh, Mamezelle? You are young in Haiti, no? No. Then follow me. Ten dollars, the guided tour, and you will grow old. But in ecstasy. One buck. One buck for a sailor's rest run by a lady. The place of Mamezelle Denise? For one dollar? Do not insult me, Monsieur. I give you that for nothing. 12 roues d'etouçons. Or am I respectable? And oh, why do you, too, Sailor? I'm going with you. Now, here's some money. Check in at the Elise Hotel. I'll meet you there. I'm going with you. This is a sailor's rest, baby. How are they gonna get any if they see you walk in? Well, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Come back in one piece, respectable Shannon. No, honey. But better open up, or we'll scream. Remember me, honey? Yeah. You kill. You're doing good, honey. And me. Do you remember me, Mr. Val? Ah, you're enchanting, Mr. Val. You must shut the door, Thomas. And you may go through all the feminine galaxy of reactions, Mr. Val. Fright, terror, wonder, curiosity. Which? Dibs on the last one. Sheer delight you are, Mr. Val. Isn't she, Thomas? No, no, no. Tear yourself away from us. I could lean out the window and yell. What's the French word for help? Even if I told you it would never rise to your classic lips, Mr. Val, this gun would bury it in your throat. No, no. Let us just sit here in delicious contemplation of each other until Mr. Shannon brings us the tears of Siva. From there, I may improvise. You want to play shakers with the news, no? No. What do you want from the news? I want to talk to you. Sit down, talk. We play shakers to prevent them from boring each other, huh? I'll take the black. You know a man off the freighter-tamper victory first mate named Joe Bishop? Who are you? Joe's friend. Move a shake, you. How do I know you're Joe's friend? He died in my arms. We. I look into your face, I see sadness. Your friend. Jump. Yeah. Two for one, you will lose. Joe died, huh? Uh-huh. He was here. His captain came for him. The captain was knifed to death. He was a Jew. He was a bad luck Jew. I don't know what you're talking about. He was once given to Joe by the Mamaloi. I'm still not with you. Mamaloi, voodoo lady. In the hills outside of Port-au-Prime. Why did this, whatever you call it, mama, something give anything to Joe? Perhaps Mamaloi liked you. Can you take me to her? It's not allowed. I didn't ask you that. You wish to go to Lady voodoo. That's the impression I'm trying to make. Denise will take you later tonight. Now move a shaker. I hope you know the way. Quickly. Go to her. How about you? I wait here. Go. Mamaloi is expecting you. What? How does she know I'm... Go. Come in, Slate Shannon. You are Slate Shannon. And you wish to know of Joe Bishop. Those drums outside told you all that? The drums, other things. Joe Bishop is dead. Maybe you can tell me who killed him. Those who want the tears of Shiva. That doesn't mean anything to me. Two sapphires that I want to give to a sailor because I'm tired of robbing them between my fingers. He told me he would return for them. Sapphires, valuable? To me no longer. To those who covered them the wealth of kings. You still got them? Here, in this pouch. Take them, my son. Use them to find those who have struck down the sailor. I'll do my best. Leneesh, where are you? I'm waiting for you. Stop waiting. I'll raise you back to Port-au-Prince. You're Mr. Shannon with the tears of Shiva. How do you know? It could be the housemaid with knees to match. Await you, dear woman. Your life against his? Let him in. Go away, Slate. He'll kill you. So unworthy of you, Mr. Bowel. Instead of frightening him away, you have only... You have only given him into my hands. My compliments, Mr. Shannon. You're a gallant. I counted on that. What are you doing here, Chubby? The tears of Sera, Mr. Shannon. You have them? They cost me many tragic hours, Mr. Shannon. The hour when the seamen told me he had them would sell them to me. The hours are waiting while Thomas killed him. But there's a ladel when I discovered Thomas had brought me worthless bottles of glass. They would not suffer any more such endless agonies, Mr. Shannon. Joe Devil crossed you, huh? I was gonna set your phonies while the real jewels were with a voodoo crone so we could grow sapphires on a Pennsylvania farm. The tears of Sera, Mr. Shannon. Death, Mr. Shannon, like this gun. You don't want them, Slate. Give them to him. Yeah. I'll do that. Chubby. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. You ought to die, Chubby. Your fat, you're starved. Exercise more like this. Watch him sail a run. Never take the wheel. Steady as she goes. We're running without lights. Tired, Slate? Yeah, sure I'm tired. I ran fast and the cops in Haiti ran as far as I know they're still looking for quartermen. Slate? Yeah? Do you think those sapphires will make nice earrings? They can get them away from the Port-au-Prince chief of police. He said he'd take care of them. He'd send them back to that lovable old witch. That's Court of Ensela. Give her the gun. They're shooting at us. Turn around, Sela. Head right for them. Are you crazy? Do what I tell you. Okay, steady. We'll crash into them. Get back a pass out of Sela. Come as close as you can. We've got to take that chance. What are you doing with that harpoon? I've speared a lot of fish with this. Maybe I can get me a towel. Now, Sela, make your pass. You've got good aim, Slate. Now what do we do? Go back for the big fish. Steady, Sela. I'm going to board her steady. Board, Mr. Shannon. You've made a mess of things. You can redeem yourself by handing over those sapphires. You think you can handle this tub with one hand on the wheel and one hand on a gun? Exquisitely. You've got one shot. After that, I'll get to you. If you miss me, you're dead. It's a lumpy sea, too. Well, Corderman, only you give up too easy. Ship shape. I'm going to throw you a line. Throw us in, Sela. Put this on, Slate. What is it? I bought it in Haiti in a little shop. I don't care where you bought it. Just tell me what it is. Well, this part is a love charm. And this part is a long chain, so it hangs over your heart. What'd you pay for it? What difference does it make? Put it on. Anything to amuse you, Sela. Now that you've got it on, don't you feel anything? Nothing. What's it supposed to do to me? Make you feel loved. It says so in the directions. Well, you better read the directions again. All right. Oh, yeah. Here it is in small print. What is? I'm supposed to get inside that necklace with you. I knew there was something wrong. Come on. Now what does it do to you? Well, we can take it from here. Throw away the directions, Sela. Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall together in...