 Time's passing, I'm back. We're hired. We can set up the music or put it up in neon. But down here on the outer part of San Francisco, you're too busy staying alive to worry about the next guy and where he's coming again. Most of the time, you've got as much chance of a fly paper flyer in front of life, but it works out. Or I rent boats and do anything else to keep my stomach and my conscience running even. It's like juggling hot marbles on a high wire. You're just a living and you haven't any more kids coming in the summer, diving into an empty pool. I found that out last Tuesday night. I was sitting in my office after dinner, watching a fog stream through a gate and wrap up the day for the night. I sat on wrecking wheels and lights were just going on in a thousand dollar a month apartment and ran away. Got a picture of warm rooms and cold martinis. They kind of stood aside from my self story. I was on a page during an address books filled with bad breath and tired memories. I was getting older for the page and the regrets were piling up around my knees when the phone rang. Man right, Father? This is from a lady, Father. Are you busy? You're alright, Father. Carrying up old phone numbers. Are you reforming or angry? We're the ones, Father. It's just we were asked. You dropped the address. Do you expect them to last forever? Nothing's as good. What's on your mind? I want to ask you a favor. Make it a small one, Father. I'm a lot of big ones. Small ones have feet for you. Yeah, another customer told me the same thing, Father. His brother was on the way to the chair and wanted me to smother him some rubber underwear. I'm asking, Father. She's not safe. Okay, Father. What do you mean? And you see me at about an hour? I'm glad I see you've been rosy. You're injured? I was treated something early. No, I'll take a ring check on that, Father. That's what no one's friends do. I'll see you at 8.30. I'm at 4.00 or 8.30 when I started up the desk to Father Lady Perry's church. I figured the services were over, so I hung around in the vestibule for a couple of minutes trying to look like a part-time bell ringer. The last few people staggered off and then another boy came off and gave me the high sign. It was a cold, fiery-flipping little kid who looked so subservable in a minute and just about as young. Are you the new backstreet? Yeah, that's right. You the new backstreet? I'm in awe to bring you the new backstreet. My name's Bill Sinkoff. Little Swiss Father called me. Yeah. I mean, where's Father Lady Narokage? That's in the back of the film, MissINGOVA. He's talking really loud in there. No. This'll do. I'll write right here. No, MissINGOVA. I'm sorry. Father says to you say a boomerang stabs. Oh, say little good, believe it. He turned out like a human when I lay around to hang up the Tcentury West at Tresden in a guyly fit-up in the backstreet a couple of miles over. Little Swiss came to tell Schreber and me there. It's a booze! Why are I so envious? I'm not that high on a deck! Just get out! This is an over! I tried to learn early to look for trouble, any place, any time. You can find it at the top of the market at the bottom of the bay. This is the first time it caught up with me in the middle of a church. The lead gutter's thickest can say on New Year's Eve. I spent around a minute of dying for a little date that I wasn't seeing in it. It went down like young hens in the hailstorm. And I grabbed for him. I must have hit my head in the face of a Marvin Teller or something. And I just got dragged for a minute. I stumbled down the aisle and went into the street after the guy with the odd drawl on his side. The fog was so thick you couldn't move a new pixel with a cute light. I guess I covered every alley and street in the neighborhood, but it was like running after a half-ton of feathers in the middle of the meaning for him. I don't know how much later it knows. When I stopped for a minute in an empty drawer and I tried to remember what I was choosing, the siren was crying somewhere in the distant south. I started back for the church. The coroner's wagon went just turning away when I got to him. Father rightly had disappeared. I saw a light in the lectern, so I went upstairs and ran in the back. He came to the door in his church sleeve. He just stood there for a minute looking at me. Then he moved me inside. You had a scene, father? Yes. He did. So done. It's red, father. A little joke. After your change. Yeah. It goes fast and smooth. I'll get the tank, father. I'm not asking that, Petsy. I'm not asking you for anything anymore. Unless I need trouble. You know, somebody told you a bad story, father. That wasn't my gun. I should have known better than to call you. I should have known it meant trouble. It's your middle name. Petsy, you're married to it. You're looking for a wrong man. It wasn't my party. My cause is it is mine to ask you a favor, Petsy. Anything you want, father. It's too late now. We were going to have an outer burst. Tomorrow we'll paradise curl. I wanted to borrow one of your boats. We won't be going out, Petsy. We've got a funeral inside. Yeah. What do you want me to say? Don't say anything, Petsy. Just listen for a minute. I asked you to come up here tonight, but I didn't tell you to bring your friends. If you've got any private price for those waterfront hoods, that's your business. But don't bring your beast into the church. And I tell you I never saw the guy before. And I'm only a matter. I'm shooting at you when you get little jerk, wasn't it? What else am I supposed to think? They'll find them when they're done. Nothing you'll say, Mr. Petsy. I like you better without the camper, father. And I like you better before your hands. That's ready, Petsy. I warned you about that waterfront car, the cheap fuzz, the cheap women. I told you, Petsy, roll around and dirt long enough and some of it's found a stick for you. You've got it all over your face and your hands and it's working inside you, Petsy. It's working in deep. That's the end of the sermon, father. I tried to warn you, but you had to figure it. We'll figure this one, Petsy. There's a nine-year-old given his way to the North. He steps in front of the window to save your life. I'll go ahead. Thank you. Well, I will find out. But you better be on call and I'll catch up with the guy. He's gonna have a lot of praying to do. And I expect that if it's church for them to live around, a couple of red-spaced Irish cops in uniform were wandering around the rest of the room, turned into their home and turned them like mad with their labir and their breasts. And over in the corner, half a dozen of women had their heads together cupping our friends over a square egg. Outside of them, the place was deserted. I do the course a quick rundown. A couple of eyes over where I figured the gentelmess had passed, I picked up a matchbook. We were out on the fence at Mass Yard, Fissure, Illinois. And there was a same-member stalled inside the cover. I just got rid of the top of the way in a bell ring and I took a closer look with my same-member. I put the matchbook in my pocket and I started home for the apartment. Maybe the cab wasn't going fast enough because halfway there, three years' stock of hitties caught up with me in the ceiling. Started to jump. The cab driver was kind, though. And we got to Mass Yard. He offered to have me as far as the curb and extra four bits. At the time I made it to my front door, I was feeling more than any man in an Irish way. The reception committee didn't have much. They were short and dark, all three of them. With rows of loose, early fat women, that should have been, and small pig eyes with a stupid cigar smoke, willing on a wide nostril, and up their faces. Hi, I know that. How do you feel? That's better after you found the girl. Hey, Jack, Novak don't like it. He'll call the vacate. No, they don't build summits that strong. Very nice. It's easier that way. Tell us that, sir. I don't know who you three picked up. Novak. Remember me, man. Yeah, I remember. You're a west coast punk, sir, all the like, Novak. Couple of taps and you cry. Ain't that right, Lutz? Maybe Novak's tired, fellas. Help him into a chair. Yeah, Novak, sit down. Lutz wants to say something. All right, then start and get out of here. We want the gun, Novak, and we want the papers to fill with it. Sorry for the great puzzle, sir. I can't help with the answers. You better tell Lutz, Novak. It's liable to get rough. All right. My gun's over there in the desk, and the paper's on the wall. Very nice, Novak. Just once more, Novak. Where's the gun and where's the papers? Look, I'll spell it for you. I don't know what you're talking about. All right. That's Max. Get his arm. All right. All right, hold it there. Okay, Lutz. Mr. Lady, do you want a sip of this? Let's turn around, Novak. The gun and the papers, where are they? I don't know. The gun, Novak. The papers. No use for us. We lost it. All right. It's a big flaw. I'm gonna find his own right back. It's been nice this summer when I woke up the sun was bleeding through a rip in the blind and there was a funny smell in the room. My stomach felt like a piece of practice rip in a Boy Scout class. Then the room got noisy. You wake up slow, Novak. I'm a hard-knocked. We're never on time for the party, are you, gentlemen? I'm choosy, Novak. I don't like your friend. All right, then take that social work. That's your choosy. I got a phone tip. I'm gonna drop it for a visit. Have a fun? Yeah. This is a gal in the kitchen, bored to death. Huh? Take a look. It's hard. Who roots it? Sally Kimburn. That's what her driver's license says. Your friend of yours? How would I know? Even her mother could be found. What's your address, isn't he, Novak? Must have been a red party. I wouldn't know, Herman. I closed early. If you're a drunk, what happened? I said I closed early. Three gents were drinking my scotch when I got home about 10.30. They were anxious about a gun and some papers and they figured I could put them straight. I couldn't, so they laid me out. Now tell me how sorry you are. I've laid them for you, Novak. Now let's have it straight. That's the straightest you're gonna get it, Herman. If it's not exciting, then let's try it, Squire. He's so brave for a pumpkin hot water. I'm not gonna spin, I'm gonna burn. Then you better start practicing, Novak, because I'm gonna burn you. You better hurry, Herman. Your pen is catching up with you. Watch your mouth, Novak. You're not talking to your dental friend. Now that's hard to tell, Herman. You're both in the same template. Now show me the warmth before I cut you a rest. That game's body is all the warmth I need, Novak. Now talk. How did you get so dead? I told you once. Pick up a three gents and ask them what they look like like you. But try smarter than they used around Chicago. I know. They wouldn't leave their birth certificate. Go ahead, smart boy. Get in all the elastic cans. But don't ask me to calm the parade board for you. I don't know, Herman. You won't be there to make round like prison ones. When you're knee deep in the rain and your boots spring at least, you might as well turn around and take your chances barefoot. Herman, there's boys left with the body, and I grabbed a hand from the bathroom in a cold shower. Then I started out to look for the only honest guy in the room, an ex-doctor in a boozer building in the Draco Madigan. A pretty smart man until he found out he can pour in your worries at $4 a fifth. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. He pulled the wrong spear through his teeth at $4 a fifth. I finally found him sitting in the middle of a bourbon fog in a little spanish joint from around the upper beach. Especially at district. He was just at the end of the park trying to get to make the time for the flpatient box of cleaner'sặcmem late. Excuse me, your captain's friend grew short one, about the end of that wave. Come on, Jaco. So going up I got to talk here. Jaco, would you cut it out? Say, I don't need to be rude or unjustly, I don't think I ought to give her a clue of the clientele in this play. This woman next to me, Patsy, the one with the stony gaze. She's been here ever since I came in, and I don't mean to be uncharitable, but I think she's a picture of a perfect boy. I pass her to a member of the Old Castilian School. They can do no excuse for the conduct she's exhibited. I do know I was eating good enough to buy her three rounds of Portuguese brandy. Imported, mind you, but what do I get for my pain? It's not even a civil offense, sir, I got. I've been sitting here in the most gentlemanly way, sipping this delicate mustard in great muscles, and trying to keep the party going. But did she help? No. I talked to her about politics, medicine, literature, peace, firing, shelling, misunderstanding. I even talked about the weather. I got off to the statue. Oh, a simple oversight, Patsy. It might happen to anyone. First woman will have her own trouble. You're always in trouble, Patsy, and that's the way you stay till you find some kind of moral rubbock. You've got to find direction instead of trying to be so righteous in an evil sort of way. Stay tuned with our decaying civilization. Like me, Patsy, why tempt the folks? It's much more practical to buy off your destiny with a good sip of Irish whiskey. You ask, you juggle? Yes. What kind of trouble this time? Three dentals from the east. They're shooting up the town and I'm running in front of them murder rats. Patsy, you are not pleased guilty. The rest might do you good. Somebody's got a nine-year-old kid, an older boy. Oh. Where did that happen? Inside of a church. The dentals took me in for somebody else instead of shooting. I've been getting bigger, Patsy. What am I supposed to do? I want you to check on a driver named Mark Quinlan. Pass or a girl, Travis Timberl. Tagged by the Xamarin, the Chronicle Mores, and later on the horse parlors out on anything, will you? Find out everything you can. All right, Patsy, but you've broken up a beautiful party. You disillusion me about Queen Isabella here and I have suddenly grown good for the thirsty again. Let's have four or five for the road, shall we? Well, you're a jucker in the time. Well, only if you say so, Patsy, every time I leave the hallowed confines of a bar room, I'm a poor pilgrim clad up in the vices of the crass everyday world. Attracted the effing, merely discountulately, against the bitter winds of chance. Cops and buffets is about endlessly by the cool storms of fortune. By the way, I need coffee. All right, we'll have to bet. Patsy, refreshment later and I'll get going. Where's Yoko? Where can I find you? I'm a check by my office and I'm going to see Father Lady. Well, as soon as he mentions taking the pledge, that's your cue to leave. Good night, Leather. I'm counting for just a piece of the answer, but all I got was question. Who was the three gentle things that was the stuff they were after? Mike Quinlan. Where did he fit in? In that breadcrumble in my apartment, who did he belong to? Then the girls were piling up faster than flies on donuts when the cat pulled up for a stop sign of 16 submission and a little guy with a worried mouth and a loud sports car jumped in. His lips were wound around a phony kind of smile like a head raider just beforehand. He just kept for a big party. It's a K-Driver with friends. How are you? I'm good. I'm easy for you, mister. You got a name? I don't want to talk. I'm from the next corner. We both mean it, Novak. Me and Mr. I'll look, Junior. If you want to play the heavy, go find a melodrama. Where you at? Stand down. That's as good a name as any. All right, here's your corner. Tell me, Kimbrough. Where is Kim Novak? You're fast with a question, mister. I'll ask you one. Who's Sandel? I got the gun, Novak. Yeah, then who's Sandel? I'll do the asking. You sit there and make the answers. You're running out of tickets, Junior. Come here. All right, now reach out for that gun and I'll slam you through the floorboard. Who's Sandel? It's a cargo hood. He's got to get me. We're supposed to play. That's a good plot. Now, who are you? Mike Clement. All right. Now, what about Tommy Kimbrough? They muster up on my kitchen floor this morning. Somebody's going to get Sandel. Maybe we're on the same train. How do you look like? I don't look alike. All right. You can leave anytime now. Sure, Novak. There's getting high. See you later. Faster than a Mexican divorce. The black sedan pounded by on all 12 and Quinlan folded up like a playpen and a high wind. We tried to follow the car, but it would have been easier to win the Kentucky Derby on a polvo stage. So I went back to the corner where Quinlan was still hugging his cement. He was draped over the curb like a tired carpet. And if his suit was a brighter yellow, we should have passed for a loading zone. Kalman was there with all his relevant uniforms, so I told the cabbie to drive on. I just couldn't seem to take the picture of little Jane Quinn. He went quiet in that shirt. Well, when I got close to a phone, I paid off the cabbie and I put in a call to Jocko. I called Newton to examine her morgue, and he said the Jocko was just left. So I called Brune. I asked for the guy who was living in Chief of Swifty in the tallest glass. Compromatic in the city? There's no right. How'd you make out? Let me tell you about these pacifist paper men down here. Men of high birth pass. True breeding. They like Jocko almost as much as I do. What did you find out about Quinlan? My industry informant sent him as an ex-convection. Sent out for arms robbery in 1940 and paroled about two weeks ago from Juliet. Quinlan had a few dealings with a man named Matt Sandel. From what I can gather, Quinlan is supposed to have taken the rest with Sandel and his brother. What else? Quinlan is a local boy out of Bernal Heights. He has a sister past. She belongs to Sandel. She's probably the only sales girl in town with a six room apartment. She's the best part of the marina. You got the address? She lives in Old Town. Down at the foot of Fillmore Street. Sounds good. Maybe she has a family. She's getting in and out from Sandel. The church priest said you need answers instead of a slump machine room. I'm having the pushing time. Thanks, Gekko. I'll see you at the apartment. Oh, that's me. On your way, I'll pick up something for dinner at the delicatessen. Will you? There's stuff in the ice box. Fix yourself a sandwich. That's me. Dinner without bourbon. Life without hope. I'll borrow from the neighbors. Good night, lover. When I hurried up, I caught a key car out on Banner's Avenue and I headed down into the marina. The rancher box was still stocking with questions and little kids still are held up far enough to lead but at least a few of us were getting thin. I figured it was one out of three. Sandel or either one of his gentles. But which one? When I got down to the foot of Fillmore Street, the fog was thicker than angels of the fat ladies convincing me. The fog horns out beyond Yacht Harbor started on overtime. The B.D. Towers was one of those 20 minutes in places with the only memory to try lots of brass and brunettes during the rare but now they're in uniform left along to the dormant. I found Quillen Shifter in the penthouse apartment. I left him in the door and felt like Clyde Beanie with a broken beard. I lied to the grammars and managed with a good settler. They came in and ran out at the right places and then stood close to the ground. I felt like the first boy after sending a blue out his candle. Ah, talent and malice. Want to come on? All right, it's pretty darned. My name's Marybeth. I got some news for you. I'm Bobby Cunning. They're good to talk. I'm looking for answers, Marybeth. We want to contain an advertise. Your brother is good. Send us out of here. Marsha, could you please imagine helping Mr. Marybeth? I don't even like. Yes. Look, I got spruced in my pocket, baby. You don't have to rest with those cards now. I'll send them out. It's going to get worse when your bed is gone. Take a look at the paper. Yes. Yeah, you can practice it. Look at our house test. You're going to spend a lot of money. Let's quiet down and talk to the murderer, shall we? Where's your husband? You're hurting me. Where's Sandel? Can I talk to you? Where's Sandel? Where is he? I see my arm. You'll break it. I'll tear it up and throw it in there. I understand that. I don't know. Smile. I don't... He killed your brother. He shot him down on the street. I don't trust nobody. All right. If you don't believe me, take a look at this chronicle right there on the front page. Do I know that? Look at it. No. Sandel's gone. I'm going to say he's gone to the hotel. He's doing the non-venomities. He lies to me. No, sir. That's a great sense that he lies to me. Yeah, you're a mistake, baby. I'll see you later. Don't worry about it. Why would you? You're lying to me. Sandel, you promised me. You're telling me. Get more of this. We have somebody at a dose. Like that older boy, huh? You got it once, you know that. Get up for the second time. There's no second time. Get up. Get up. Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... Son of a... most of the town. You can only tell when it's safe because all the towns out in the bay get a free ride. Halfway there, the driver was ready to quit but for an extra two bucks he threw the cabin second and crawled the rest of the way and we got a block from the church. By that time the falls were so stiff it could have started for the town. I did the last block on foot. I was just about 20 yards away when I spotted sand down on Max the Dental standing under a suit light just outside the door to the church. They waited a minute and then turned and started up the steps. Don't bother Sandel, you're called too late. Oh wait, who's out there? It's a smart phone, boss, over. Smell that. Come closer, I can't see you in the cross. There's nothing to get me Sandel. There he is Max. You're flying blind Sandel. You made the fit for nothing. I got the gun and I got the papers. You're flying, Max. Come on out, Norbex. I said you're late Sandel. I already made the deal with Max. You have money, Norbex. This'll get you up. Not even cares, Max. What's one of these up the outer boards? He's not worried, Norbex. You want to tell him a lot or should I? Max deals a lot better than you shoot, Sandel. Ask him about it. I'm saying nothing, Lord. He's talking crazy. Let's go out and get him. Ask Max about this afternoon, Sandel. Ask him who he is when just got it. Ask him how I got the gun and the papers. He's crazy, Lord. I'm not so sure, Max. Don't be a sucker, Lord. No, Max, play it, too. Sorry, Max. He's just a kid. He's turning your life to wire. Good thing, Max, but I can't stand him. All right, Sandel. Now it's just you and me in the park. Come on in, though. Thanks for a real good deal. You know where I can see it. All right. That's five shots, Lord. You got one left to make good on. All right, Sandel, don't worry about it. There's nothing. Don't know that. Yeah. No, you ought to know that. What I do is you. Cut it out, will you? You didn't get hurt. Talk to that other boy, huh? I don't mean to hit the kid. Oh, I'm sick of you, I'm sick of you. That's enough. All right, I said that's enough. Just stand out. Yeah, okay. Two minutes ago, we got to book them for murder. You can have a mirror, Herman. Yeah, give the state the money no vaccine. Nick's broken. That's your Pessie? Have her here, Father. Oh, Mr. Jeff. Hello, Mr. Pessie. Howdy. This is the man, Pessie. Grandfather, that's him. Our pray for him, Pessie. Why are we so proud of him? He wasn't worth it. Except the same thing about two men on a hill in Calgary. He looked at the next morning. Things got a lot clearer for everybody. His story was the same birthday time, but then so were the characters. After Mike Quinlan joined up with Sandale on his boy's back in 1940, a sort of bank job in Chicago. And instead of cutting in miles on the coast, Sandale burned him to take the rap for the three of them. Then Sandale came west to operate and lined up Quinlan's sister for his girlfriend. By the time Quinlan was parole, he was cast on Sandale's game and had lots to think about. He lined up enough good evidence to put Sandale on his two boys and went for a nice and many threatened discrepancies. Sandale didn't cut him in for these girls. He got him so wide of his sister. Sandale wasn't generous. He wasn't gen two, so he played along with his parents. He can earn generous pockets. When the parents came to swap money for evidence, Quinlan picked the church for a curtain round and eventually wouldn't adapt to the evidence. That's where we time and time it. But we were all set to go when something scared Quinlan off and Sandale came in, mistaking for Quinlan, his sister was late. Sandale's wife had to get at Quinlan to his girl, Sally Kimbrough, and once he wouldn't spell, I killed her and sent her to the body in my apartment to take care of it.