 An importer, a beautiful woman, a nut, and a guy I couldn't figure out. But before we were through, one was in the hospital, two were in the morgue, and the fourth was waiting for the hangman. All that because of a blue burguenet, which was something I'd never even heard of before. Ah, since the author of crime fiction comes in to explain the challenge to you, the adventure is the Philip Morrell we bring you tonight's exciting story, the blue burguenet. Knock on my glass, mellowed out the door, sounded like a fresh out of Yale insurance salesman. Making his first enthusiastic curl of the morning. Some more height and weight. This is Norman Voorhees. I'm an importer located here in Los Angeles, in San Francisco, and in the eyes. I'm Philip Marlowe, private detective, located all in one place, which means that your rent bill is higher than mine, and that's all. I have a little time for flippin' things. And I have less time for high-handedness. I don't make ends meet by pulling a rickshaw either, Mr. Voorhees. Cigarette. I don't. Mr. Marlowe? I need an escort for a cleat of rare stilts, which is to be blown to San Francisco tonight. At 25 a day, plus expenses, I could be your man. I'd so much fuss over a few bolts of stilts. In this case, it's the embroidery on the material, a very rare and very intricate Chinese design. Which in basic English means what? Oh, come, come, Marlowe, this stilts was legitimately purchased at a low figure, and a profitable resale is my only option. And why the pistol-packing routine? Because I was forced to outsmart a half-dozen competitor to get this material. Hmm, there are poor losers in every business, is that it? Exactly. Now, will you take the job? All right, where do I report, and when? At my warehouse on Salt's Figaroire, at 9 tonight. Here's my card. Either my assistant, Miss Sandra Lane, or I will be on hand. Fine. Oh, and by the way, Mr. Voorhees walked in and tested. No, I apologize, Mr. Marlowe. If you hadn't been that quick, I wouldn't have hired you. Good day, sir. I've got a report of his built-up stilts. It's faded. Dropped the card into my pocket, punched out a couple of overdue letters, and I ran into the land and left the office for lunch. Outside, the sun was too high and the smoke was nothing to do until 9. I watched the seagulls collect overhead and swear at me. When I got to my car and opened the door, it was Leonardo Balciera. Does that mean anything to you? Frankly, no. Then again, I haven't checked the rogue's gallery in almost a month. Stop it, Marlowe. I haven't traveled the width of this country without a moment's sleep to hear empty words. No. Where is the Blue Bergenet? The Blue what? The Bergenet. The Blue Bergenet, Marlowe. Where is it? Look, Balciera, maybe you have all your marbles and maybe you don't. But either way, believe me, I've never heard of a Bergenet, red, white or blue. Don't lie to me, Marlowe. With my own eyes, I saw him going to Europe. Buries. Buries. What does that mean? You know that. Buries never mentioned such a thing to me. You lied. I've only been here in Los Angeles an hour, but already I know that Buries has the Bergenet. And I swear, I swear by all that holy, it will be in my hands where it belongs before morning. And if you don't... Marlowe, what are you doing? Don't move, Marlowe, don't move. I still got the gun and I'm still sure. Now remember, I'll be back for the Bergenet. How did you know, Marlowe? I get it all right. Oh, you must be Mr. Marlowe. Please come in. Mr. Buries is finishing some business in the study, but I... Oh, yes. Now, I'm sure we'll both see Marlowe satisfied for this. Yes. Mr. Marlowe. Well, I didn't expect you. Excuse me a moment, please, sir. Well, today I'll see both you and the Monsignor. I don't know. I haven't seen you until Mr. Buries first no man yet today. Marlowe? You're on the wrong page at the wrong time. What's the trouble, Mr. Buries? That again. But you know about the Bergenet, Marlowe? Nothing, but a nut with a gun in his hand wouldn't believe that. Now, you tell me, just what is a blue Bergenet, Mr. Buries? It's an ancient ceremonial helmet. Oh, you mean that night in Armistice? One of those tin cans with a hinge front for taking your seat. This particular helmet was only ornamental. It was made of solid gold and covered with jewels. It was completed in 1560. By none other than the great Italian master Benvenuto Cilini. The entire helmet, or Bergenet, as that particular style is called, is decorated with a brilliant blue enamel. Also the work of Cilini. And it hasn't lost its roster even to this day. That's interesting. What's it worth for gold and the jewels on it, I mean? Oh, $30,000, $40,000. But that's merely its intrinsic value. As an arch-revic, it's almost priceless. However, the last time I heard of the Bergenet was in Italy, before the war. Yeah, but the man with the gun doesn't believe that. He thinks you've got it in your hip pocket. The man with the gun must be Leonardo Bartieri. That's right. How'd you know? He does. The great uncle of Bartieri was the last rightful owner of the Bergenet. And Bartieri has his own interpretation of the laws of primal geniture. He shows up periodically to threaten, to inspire and import the world over. He's practically an international joke. Yes, well, I find it hard to laugh at screwballs when my clients lie to me. Do you mind if I see the bill of lading on the silk? Andrew, show Mr. Marlowe all the papers on the silk pen section. Yes, of course. I hate to see him in doubt this way. Obviously, it distresses him so. By then, I got curious to see just how... So I signal for a stop. You mind telling me why I'm being tailed? Huh? Come on. Sit for a touch. You've got the sugar. Okay. I tell you, coming out of Norman Voice in Beverly Hills. Now, what's he to you? I could say it was my mother, but she wouldn't believe me. I'm waiting my time. He's been a lot of money for a little information. Information about what? A blue bergenette. An auto Bartieri. And blue bergenette for his hubby. Matter of fact, you might even say that he's crazy about them. I'm shoving off. Your name? That didn't prove anything, and I knew that I'd still have to wait until nine o'clock when I was due at the warehouse on Figaroa before I could start anything there. It was only five then, so I went back to my apartment, showered and shaved and grabbed a little cleat and had a glass of stale Mexican beer. I took a cab to South Figaroa in the crate of silk. The place where the ten minutes after nine and the knuckles on my right hand were bruised. The lane came to the door. Oh, so I'm so glad you're here. Why? The price of silk dropping? Please slow down, Joe. I've had nothing but strange noises in this warehouse, everything's Mr. Vory's left. Why, I've finally locked myself in. Where is Vory's? He had a phone call right after dinner. Something important he asked me to wait for you. No, where's the silk? In the back in the crate. Come on, let's hurry. All right. Come on, let's call him better off. There's a truck and a driver waiting outside the errands. Here's a bill of ladings in the pile of the plane. Bill. What is it? You'll... You'll be very careful. Won't you? Why, Sandra, can you say it like that, Helen? Come on, baby, smile. After all, it's only a bowl of silk. Do you come to terms with my friend, Balthierra? I didn't try. It looked like he's leading to what I wanted, now it seems as though I'm right. Nothing else but Marlowe. And at this point, it would kill me to see it get into anyone else's hands. Then die, dear! If everything that means anything to me, that pig, Hamilton, I should have done that taking me a week ago in New York. It would have been simpler that way. No, you're Marlowe. Get in that truck. Wait a minute, Balthierra. We've gone riding together before. It didn't do either of us any good. I know, Marlowe, I know. But you didn't have the blue bergenet all wrapped up with you then, eh? Nice. Okay, okay. Well, anyplace, just so I can get the bergenet out of that ugly crate without interference from anyone, including you, Marlowe. The silk is nothing but common food, little man, all right. What makes you say Gory's had it? They cost almost a new who it was. I followed him, and he led me straight to Gory's. You've been a busy little bee, haven't you? Been harder than I anticipated. My original plan was subtle and perfect. I even sent my wife away on an extended vacation, so they wouldn't be able to get at me to her. The turnrider aside, he's from the symbol of Balthierra, pal. And by much power these days for 30,000 bucks, that was your fancy warp on it. But the blood of ancestors that do it, an empire flows in my veins. To me, the bergenet is the heart and soul of a tradition that will never die. I'm penniless now, but that golden helmet will be the storm that will recreate the ground. Oh, there are hundreds of trees, and they're just like... Oh, he came in with that gunman's hand while I was waiting here for Mr. Vory's. Oh, no. Yeah, I carried his butt. The truth now? Mr. Vory's had the blue bergenet. He said he bought it from someone I don't know who. That shipment of silk to San Francisco was only a decoy to get Balthierra and this man Hamilton off the trail. And Balthierra was decoyed to a vacant lot all of 10 whole minutes. Do you still believe me? I don't know anything more than that. I'm a straight. I want to get out of here. I don't know anything more than that. More to handy as head's been cut. Yes, there's water in the back. I'll go get some. Thanks. Okay, come on, Hamilton. Wake up. Come on, come on. Come to life. Winking out a fight around the green eyes again, which I did, and better price some fast answers out of Mr. Hamilton. This kidnapping reckless driving an assault with a deadly weapon and I'm in the same mood. So don't move until I finish calling the police. The police? You're going to call the law? Yes, straight information. And if you don't think I mean it, just try getting tongue-tied and see what happens. Oh, wait a minute, Marlowe. We've been waiting a lot of each other's time here. My membership card. Jenny Hamilton, investigator. Office of the Curated Italo-Hispanic Museum in Chicago. Well, now it's suspicious of you at first, Marlowe. Yet all the time you were on the same team and didn't know it. Ha, ha, ha. I hope the hour ago. Like this. One, two, three. The museum inherited the Chalini helmet known as the blue brilliant net from its owner, Alexander Balthierra. He opened the war. He was Leonardo Balthierra's great uncle and he disinherited that bug years ago. I located the helmet in Italy and brought it to New York last week. We stole it from you there and everything points to one man in the seat. That's Norman Voris. And when we... Oh, Voris, the airport. Leonardo Balthierra now. Out of his accent. Look, what do you know that I... He's Voris' assistant, that's all. She knows that Voris had that helmet. She's in plenty of trouble right now. With that much of holdin' is set up and quick. I mean, you're right. That shipment of silk was a side tracker, wasn't it? For you and Balthierra. And a big piece of this thing is missing, Marlowe. There must be somebody else involved that we don't know about. Yeah. And with you out of his hair, Voris undoubtedly intended to get rid of the burgannette tonight at your... Ooh. Wait a minute. What was that guy's name? A red-faced fact. A very complexion joke. Yeah. Could it be Corday? Corday. That's it. Then we suspect the big one left Chicago three months ago and lives in Beverly Hills now. Huh? I've got my dress on. Oh, good. 621 North Maple. It's a long shot. Oh, what can we lose at this point? Besides, it's about our turn for a break. Hey, you really look beat. You sure you can make it? I wouldn't miss it for anything. With great warm reception. It kept him hidden from anyone. Okay, and he had tried to kill me. That's why I had to kill him. You're a husband. Yes. I'm Mrs. Leonardo Balthierra. You're also a clumsy, hot-headed vixen. Oh, stop it. Could I help it? You sent me for water at the warehouse tonight, Marlowe. I took that opportunity to get away because I had the helmet in the trunk of my car. I practically fell over Leonardo outside. He saw me there. He realized I'd been working with Voris right from the start. He was murderous. But you didn't have to leave him here and kill him on my living room floor. Then because that idiot's husband of mine would let me starve rather than sell the burger, never got it. But Voris was greedy. He double-crossed me by trying to sell it to Corday here without me. Once the jewels were stripped and the gold melted down, the trail would end, of course. I would be out. And that would have been fine by me. Norman Voris, at least, was a very deep, efficient little man. He's a very dead little man, so shut up about it. I'm getting nervous. Let's get rid of Marlowe here somewhere and finish our business. Not so fast. Give me the fine message. Take the murder on the floor, private dicks in the house. How can I stay in my business with things like that happening? And before we settle anything else, we're gonna clean it all up. Take my gun. That's exactly where you'll find many of those living outside long-established relief agencies.