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Hi, this is Randy Stone.I cover the Night Beat for the Chicago Star.You know, stories start many different ways.But this one began modestly enough with a zero on a typewriter.That's right, cipher naught nothing.
But to one man of Chicago's four million, that zero meant death.
Night Beat, starring Frank Lovejoy as Rudy Stone.
Mine is a funny kind of a job.When that evening sun goes down, I start walking through the dark city.Peering into bleak alleys, wandering through the bright neon.Listening to the sounds of the city at night.The whisper of footsteps.
The shattering roar of an L train.The sob of an ambulance siren. I wander up the boulevards, down the back streets, searching for something in the dark city.And what exactly is it that I seek?
Brother, it's something more elusive than the farthest star.I seek the city's heart.Tonight I must have walked for miles.The cold wind off Lake Michigan ad-libbing with my ribs and the hot breath of my deadline biting into my neck.
Then ahead of me, I saw that friendly oasis in the darkness.Benny's all-night beanery, otherwise known as Tomain Junction.Throwing caution to the winds, I started through the door for a cup of coffee.
Operator.Operator, answer me.
Nobody around but Benny polishing the counter and this little blonde yapping excitedly into the wall foam near the door.
Such devotion.Somebody should get that excited over me.
Hello, Mrs. Warren.Yes, we were disconnected. Has he come home yet, Mrs. Warren?
How are you, Benny?How's the bicarbonate kick?Oh, hiya, Randy.You always say that, but you keep coming back.Ha ha ha, glutton for punishment.
Well, you've got to find him.You've just got to.
Get her.What's with her, Benny?Oh, no, 25 calls she makes like that.25 times she gets the same answer.25 times she comes over to get more nickels.Business is good, huh?Yeah, a hole in the head.What's in it for me making change all night?
Give me some change, please, Nichols.
Lady, sooner or later, I gotta run out.This is it.
I don't make them here, lady.
Now, will you please... Well, then, any change?Quarters?Dimes?
Now, let me take a look, see if I have any.
Oh, yes, please do.But hurry, please hurry.I gotta reach him.
Randy, make with the catch he's passing out.
Oh, easy, lady, easy.Oh, cold!Coffee, Benny, quick. There's one thing I'll say.If Gabriel's trumpet doesn't succeed in waking the dead, all they've got to do is send for some of Benny's coffee.
After I got a couple of sips down the girl's throat, she started coming out of it.Tears rolling down her face, her whole body trembling with sobs.
You passed out, but good.
I've got to find him.I've just got to.
Oh, now, take it easy.You're still shaking.Now, come on.Have a few more sips of this so-called coffee.
Well, if you think Benny's coffee is bad, you ought to try his hamburgers.
I've just got to find him.
Who have you got to find?
Ask a foolish question, you get a foolish answer.Only before I could ask any more questions, a little lady was on her way out of the place. I looked at Benny just to make sure he'd heard the same thing I had.He'd heard.
His mouth was hanging open like somebody had taken off the hinges.I left the beanery and started after the girl.At first I thought I'd lost her.Then I saw her sagging against the side of a building under the elevator tracks on Dearborn Street.
She saw me coming.What do you want?Oh, I'm just an old busybody.
I don't know what to do.I'm going crazy.I should call Mrs. Warren again.Maybe he came home.
The man you killed, huh?Well, that makes sense.Now, listen.
You don't understand.You just don't understand.
I've got to find him.I've just got to.
You've killed him, but you've got to find him.Yeah.
I must go.Please.Please let me go.
I'm not holding you, kid.
I don't know where to turn.
You don't want to go anyplace, do you?You want help.All right.Here it is.
My name is Stone.Now that we're formally introduced.
Maybe you can help.Maybe you can, Mr. Stone.
Yeah, but first I've got to know why you keep calling the home of the man you killed to see if he's gotten in yet.This is slightly confusing.
All right, I'll tell you.My name is Ruth Baker.I'm receptionist and secretary for Dr. Stanley Loring.
There was a man, Philip Warren.A week ago, he saw Dr. Loring for an examination.Today, this afternoon, he came back for the report.I was in the outer office when Mr. Warren left the consultation room.He looks strange.Strange and frightened.
Will you give me a cigarette, Miss Baker?
Oh, certainly, Mr. Warren.Here. There's a lighter on the table.
Never mind, I don't want a cigarette.
Hey, what time have you got?You're a minute slow.
But a minute is important.Very important.
If you're going to catch a train.
No, it's always important.
Oh, yes.You know, I've lived all my life that way.Paying attention to time. being punctual.My wife considers it a nuisance.Do you?
I'm afraid I hadn't thought... You should.
Everyone should.Time.Have you thought how many different ways one tells time?It can whisper in an hourglass.Or tinkle in a tiny little clock.Or it can roar.Or... Yes?All my life it's been important to me.Now he won't tell me when.
All he says is sometime.That's not fair, Miss Baker.It's not right.
Look, Mr. Warren, perhaps you'd better lie down.Oh, no, no, no.
I've got several things to do.Many things, in fact.
You don't.But that doesn't matter at all.You know, in my office, I can hear the chimes of the clock in the tower above me.I've always listened to them.I like them because time is important.But I never heard them chime midnight.
I guess midnight is a special time.It's either tomorrow or today.It's in between.Tells a man that the day is over, another one's going to begin.It's like standing on the edge.Goodbye, Miss Baker.Goodbye, Miss Baker.
Miss Baker, will you come in, please?
Is Warren gone, Miss Baker?
Yes, he just left, Dr. Loring.
That was certainly unexpected.I was almost certain it wasn't that serious.Well, put his examination report back, will you?
The closed file, Miss Baker.
Oh, I'm sorry.What was it?
Why he acted so strangely.
Don't worry.You'll go home, think about it.When the first shock wears off, you'll accept it.What else can you do?What else can anyone do?
After that, I went back to my desk, Mr. Stone.I was checking my files and... Come on, Ruth.
I made a mistake.A horrible mistake.
Well, when a patient comes in for examination, only Dr. Loring knows his name.The technical laboratory has only a number, a number on a card.Mr. Warren's was 5-1-2-9.I typed it wrong.I typed 5-1-2-0.
The card number of another patient.
It was a mistake.I put Mr. Warren's name under the wrong laboratory number.The number of a... of a man who is going to die. Certainly, Dr. Loring will be able to tell if Warren... Well, just a routine checkup would indicate symptoms.
It took actual laboratory work to make certain.
He'll kill himself.He's that kind of a man.And if he does, I've killed him.Murdered him.And if... I... I don't want to live.I'll kill myself, too.
Oh, now, come on.Come on.Now, there's no time for that.Does Dr. Loring know?
And he tried to reach Warren?
Oh, we've been trying since his ambulance. He must have gone home first because he left his wife a note.
Suicide note?Yes.Ruthie, come on, let's go.
To Warren's home.And if he's not there, well, Chicago's a big city.It'll be tough finding one man among four million people.But we can try.
I found the note when I got home, Mr. Stone.I knew Philip went to see Dr. Loring, but I didn't know... Just the note and nothing else, Mrs. Warren?No, nothing.
You called the police right away?
And you haven't left this apartment?
Not for a second.Well, didn't he phone, try to get in touch with you at all?No, Miss Baker, he did not.And if my husband isn't found before he kills himself, I'll see to it that you... I keep telling you it was a mistake.
Anyone could make a mistake like that.Mistake? To make a man believe he's going to die in horrible pain?No, that's no mistake, that's murder.The cruelest kind of murder.Don't!Get out of here and leave me alone!Get out!
Wait a minute, Mrs. Warren.I crucified this kid because she made a mistake that could happen only once in a million years.
To my husband!To anyone!Oh, leave me alone!
You want to find him, don't you?
Now, what kind of a question is that?
A nice, reasonable question.You want to find him.All right, help us.
But what can we do?By midnight he'll... He'll be dead, the note he left said so.Someone's at the door.It might be him.
I'll get it. Mr. Warren?Warren?Why, no, I... Paul!
Paul!Yes?Paul, what did you find out?
Oh, nothing.I checked every precinct station between here and the Oak Street Beach.
And the girl who... I see.
Paul is a friend of Philip's.
Yeah, yeah, there's nothing you said?No, no one's seen him.And no suicide report?Not his.
We've got two hours to find him.You know, that bothers me.Why should he choose exactly 12 o'clock to die?
If you knew my husband, you'd understand why.The ticking of the clock was the most important thing in his life.You could set your watch by his schedule.Up at 7.30 in the morning, never 7.28, never 7.31, 7.30.Breakfast to 10 minutes to 8.
Irma, Irma, we haven't time to worry about Philips City or synchracies right now.We've got to find him.As the young lady said, we've only got two hours.
Try to think the way he would.
What does he do for those two hours?Where does he go?What does he want to see?
He's lived all his life doing things exactly the same way.That's all.
Well, that's something.What are you getting at, Stone?Well, I was just thinking.Nobody ever lets go of life without holding on to something else.Nobody knows whether you can take a memory with you or not.
Maybe it's just a face, a melody, a favorite place.Nobody knows, but we like to think so.
Philip... Go ahead, what were you going to say? Philip would want to die exactly as he'd lived, knowing exactly when and where.
That's what I mean, Mrs. Warren.I want a list of every place your husband might go.But... I'm telling you, Mama.
But there are so many places.
A hundred, a thousand, what's the difference?Write them down.I'll go with you, Stormy.No, no, you stay here with Mrs. Warren.Somebody's got to be here if he shows up.And step on it with that list, Mrs. Warren.
We've got a lot of places to cover by midnight.If we haven't found him then, we can cut our list down to one place.The county morgue.
Night Beat stars Frank Lovejoy as Randy Stone.
Find one man out of four million people.Find one place out of a thousand square miles of city and do it in two hours, 120 minutes.A long chance?Compared to our job, a buck on the Irish sweepstakes was money in the bank.
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Police, a thousand cops had Warren's description.Two, Warren himself.The way he lived was a clue to the way he might die.On time, punctual.But where?The first list... The first place on this list was a little restaurant where he sometimes ate.
They knew him there, all right.
Mr. Warren?Yes, I know him.Has he been in here tonight?Tonight?Yes, tonight.I see you don't know Mr. Warren very well.Mr. Warren comes here on Tuesday evenings only.This is Monday.
Cross off one place.Go to the next.Yes, they knew Mr. Warren.No, he hasn't been in tonight.This is Monday.He comes here only on Fridays.Grab a cab and hurry on. Watching the minutes go by, watching Ruthie die a minute at a time.
Telling her no matter how bad we were doing, the cops would find him for sure.The cigar store, where he stopped for cigarettes, missed him by an hour.The newsreel theater, sure an old customer, but he comes on Wednesday for the new weekly show.
Ruthie wanting to call Mrs. Warren again to see if the police had found him yet, but no time.Forty minutes gone, an hour lost, going down the list. Hey, kid!No, not right now.Listen to me.Every night a man stops by here.His name is Warren.
Oh, I know him.What about him?Well, has he been here tonight?I'm sure.Hey, what gives with that guy?What do you mean?Well, any other night he's by here, six o'clock sharp.Tonight he comes past after ten.Buys a paper, a late edition.
He's never done that before.In fact, I never seen him after six.Which way did he go?
Did he say anything to you?
All he does is buy the paper, walk away, and then he throws the paper away like he don't want it in the first place.Which way did he go?Straight up Michigan, that way.You got to admit it's unusual.
Yes, I admit it.I admit it.Thank you.Come on, Tabby, move.So we went straight up Michigan Avenue that way.All we accomplished was to lose another five minutes of our time.And brother, when it came to time, we were really scraping bottom.
Those ever-loving cops were becoming more important by the second.One by one we kept scratching names off the list.The cafeteria where we sometimes stopped for coffee, but not tonight.The drugstore where we stopped for stamps, but not tonight.
Then the last place on the list, the very last.A little cocktail lounge on Michigan Avenue.One of those she-she joints where the lights are so soft and low you can't watch the bartender watering the booze. Our two hours were just about all used up.
Oh, pal, if you can't, nobody else can.Thank you, partner.I'm looking for a man named Philip Warren.Do you know him?
Oh, yeah, yeah, quite well.I consider Mr. Warren one of my special customers.
Is he here tonight? Well, what do you ask?We don't have time for anything but yes or no answers, please.Yes or no?
No, I really don't feel I'm at liberty to discuss with complete strangers.
Oh, Randy.Randy, it's not gonna work.We're not gonna find him.
Something wrong with Mr. Warren?Well, to put it mildly, yes.Now, come on.Well, if you'll tell me why you want to... Now, listen, please.You see, it's not really proper to tell just anyone who happens to inquire.
Now, unless we find him in the next 15 minutes, Warren is going to die.
Look at this girl here.If Warren dies, she'll... Never mind.Look at her face and tell me I'm joking.
Oh. All right, I didn't know.Mr. Warren's a good customer.You know, two strangers asking.Was he in here, and how long ago?He came in a little while ago.I thought it was strange, you know, because he's late.He always comes in promptly at 5.35.
About ten minutes ago.He sat at the usual place, but then he didn't drink it, Sherry.
Do you know where he went?No, no, I don't.Did you see him go?
I saw him leave.All right, now think.Has he ever said anything about going anywhere from here?
No, no, no.He was always very quiet. Oh, but I think his office is near here.What makes you think that?Well, he mentioned once he always leaves it at 5.30.I see.Thank you.Where's the phone?Near the entrance.Come on, Ruth.Thank you.
What is it, Mr. Stone?What did you think of?
You got his home phone number?
Yeah.Written down here.Good.
I want to know where his office is.
All his life, punctual, methodical.Everything to him was a habit.Maybe it's a crazy hunch, but I could be right.He could have gone to his office.
Come on, come on.Answer, answer.
They've got to be there.They said they'd stay.
But they don't answer.Ruth, do you remember where his office is?Must be on your records.
I don't remember it.But we can go and get it.
They're not there.I told them to stay there, the fools.
The phone directory.Might have a business listing for him. Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren.Poor, poor Peter.Philip, Philip Warren.
No, only his home phone, the number I just called.
If Mrs. Warren isn't home, she might have gone to the police.Maybe they found him.
That could be it.Keep your fingers crossed that they found him alive.
Well, well, Randy Stone, snooping around this precinct for stories?
Listen, I'm in a hurry, you've got to tell me something.
There's a general call-out for a man named Philip Warren, have you got anything on it?
I'll take a look.Warren, Philip Warren.That's right.
Oh, Mac, come on, come on.
Nothing here on that name, Randy.
Nothing?Mac, you're crazy.The call went out this afternoon.Every precinct has got it.
Well, this is one of them, but there ain't a thing here.Take a look for yourself.Here's the sheet.
I'll take your word for it, Mac.Listen, put out a call right away.He's got to be picked up.He killed somebody?He'll kill himself.You hear that, Mac?He'll kill himself if he's not found before midnight.Before midnight?But that's just 15 minutes.
They didn't have a call for him.
That's crazy.They must have.Mrs. Warren, call the police.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.Just a minute, Cabby.Look, Ruth.Let's figure it.That last cocktail lounge, the bartender said Warren came in every evening at 5.35 and he left his office at 5.30.That makes his office a five-minute walk from the cocktail lounge.
And what he said to me, remember?
He said he liked to sit in his office and listen to the chimes from the tower above his office.
Tower?Tower?Five minutes from that cocktail lounge on Michigan Avenue.
The Wrigley Building.They're clocking the Campanile Tower.Ruth, that's got to be it.We've got ten minutes to get there and find the office.Cabby!Wrigley Building, fast!
The red in the traffic lights didn't mean a thing, but it still took us three minutes to get to the Wrigley Building.When we got there, the hands of the clock in the Campanile Tower pointed to seven of twelve.
And as we looked up, the larger hand crossed out another minute of Warren's life.One more went by before the night watchman heard me pounding at the doors.And then he opened them.
Hey, hey, what's all the fuss?
Look, look, my name is Stone.Chicago star.
Yeah, well, that give you the right to pound on doors?No, please, please, just listen.
Does a man named Philip Warren have an office in this building?
No, he ain't got no office.
Sure, of course I'm sure.Man named Warren works here, really.
Sure, works for Western Research.
Did he come in tonight?Eh, why?Stop asking questions, please.We've got to find him or he'll be dead.
It was all right when he walked in, I didn't see... All right, take us up to him. Hey, you've got to sign the in and out sheet, just like everybody else.
All right, all right.We'll sign it.
Just take us up.Yeah, OK.Got to use the freight elevator, though.Regular ones don't run at night.Not this show.I don't care which one we use.
Just get us up to Warren.I stopped looking at my watch while that freight elevator droned its deadly way up to the floor where Warren had his office. And then at last, we were there.
Western Research Office is right down that way, I'll just... You'll call the police.Call the police.Tell them you're calling for me to get here as soon as they can.Oh, sure, okay.Thank you.Come on, Ruth.
There's no light inside.It's open.
There's no one here.Find the light switch.I can't.
All right, never mind.I'll light a match. What's the matter?
I thought I saw someone at the desk when you lighted that match.
Well, I thought of the same thing you did, and I... Herman.
Herman, you still here?Yes, Paul.Mr. Stone is here, too.Stone?Yes.Turn on the light, Paul.
Why wasn't the light on in the first place?
Well, we thought if Philip came here and saw a light, he wouldn't come in.
That's right, Stone.We called the police.They had nothing yet, so we came here.We thought... You called the police?
We just couldn't stay home and do nothing.
The police didn't tell you anything, huh?No, everyone's looking for Philip.I'll ask you nice, Paul.Where is he?I don't understand.Let's stop playing patty cake.Where is he?I tell you, we don't know.Sure you do.Why, you're one of his best friends.
Where is he? Come on, give.
We don't know where he is.We came here for the same reason.You never called the police about your husband like you said.You didn't want them to find him.You're insane, both of you.
Come on, poor boy.Tell me where he is.I tell you, I don't know.Now let's try it again.Come on.Stone, you're a... Never mind me.Let's stick to the subject of the moment.Where is he?I told you.Where is he?All very neat and clean, wasn't it?
Let the old boy kill himself.Just don't do a thing about it. You tell me when, Paul.How much insurance was he going to leave to your lady friend?You sure it isn't one of those non-cancellable policies, Paul?
You know some of them don't pay you off on suicide.Tell me where he is.
Tell me!Stop it!Stop it!Stop it!Stop it!He's on the tower.
Top of the building.I saw him.He's going to jump.Here's your boyfriend, Mrs. Warren.Catch!The tower, Ruth.Come on.
No time.Tower's only two flights up.Come on.I'll need you. It was one minute of 12 when we took the first step of the two flights.The run-up was like one of those dreams in which you stand aside and watch yourself.
There was a queer impersonal detachment about it that made the horror even more real.Then we were out on the roof.
No, no, not yet.What the... Where?
Look!On the tower!Warren!Warren, wait!Warren!Yes, I'll wait, because it's not quite time.
I've got to finish up today.You've got to listen to me. You're not going to die!
Do you hear me?He said I was!But he wouldn't say when!He wouldn't tell me when!But I know, I can tell you!It's not quite twelve, but what it is!
Ruth, make him listen to you.
Mr. Warren!Look at me!You know who I am?
Yes, I know!I know everybody in the world!And I can see everybody from here!
Please!The report was a mistake! You're not going to die, do you hear?It was a mistake!Please, listen to me!
You're right!You're all right!Everybody lies to me all my life!You want me to suffer!I can't! I tell you I can't!And I know when I'm going to die!
But you're not!It was a mistake!My mistake, not the doctor's!I swear!We're not lying to you, I swear it!Randy!Randy, wait!
Oh, mother in heaven.Get your boys ready, Max.They're all set.But him!What about him?Keep talking, Ruth.He's watching you.Keep talking.
Mr. Warren!You're all right!Do you hear?You're not going to die!
He said I was.He told me.
Please don't lie to me, please.
It's the truth, Mr. Warren.You're not going to die.Do you believe it?
You can get him now, Mac.He'll hold on until your boys reach him. So, here I sit, trying to write my story for tonight.But I keep hitting that one key.Zero.Zero.Cipher.Naught.Nothing.Ah!Oh, dear.
Someday, a nice, peaceful story is going to be written about a flock of happy little birds, leisurely circling a burned-out world, wondering whatever happened to all those crazy, two-legged characters who spent their lives knocking each other's brains out.
What a nice thing to read, that'd be.Yeah, but wait a second, who'd write it?All right, you broken-down, two-bit philosopher, the makeup editor's got to go home, too.So let's get going.Hello?Give me a rewrite.
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