Page 23 - Murder on the Dirigible

Murder on the Dirigible

MATTHEWS: Yeah, sure. Just don’t touch any of the controls.

METCALF: Right. (goes out of cockpit) Mrs. Pomello: could you
come in here, please?

POMELLO: Uh-oh. I liked you better when you were rude, Mister
G-man.

METCALF: I don’t give a damn how you like me. You’ve got some
tough questions to answer.

POMELLO: Oh, what’s the rush? All right, I’m coming. (gets up
grumbling and goes into cockpit with Metcalf) Well, Oscar, are you
part of this inquisition?

MATTHEWS: Rita, this is all his doing. I’m just trying to guide this
balloon back to civilization.

METCALF: Sit down. (she sits) First, I’m going to tell you a few
things, like it or not. Fisk was a crook. He operated in seven states
and the District of Columbia. His law practice was a front for
gambling, prostitution and—before repeal—bootlegging. But he was
too clever to get himself tied directly to those rackets. Instead he
took the profits in the form of legal fees and invested them in
legitimate businesses. So the bureau couldn’t pin a thing on him. But
we kept watching, waiting for him to make a slip.

POMELLO: What are you saying, copper? I don’t know anything
about Fisk’s other activities. He was my financial adviser: I can find
my own booze and crap games.

METCALF: I know, I know. You don’t have to act so innocent with
me, lady. You didn’t even meet Fisk until three years ago, after he left
Atlantic City for good. Even so, he must have had a lot of enemies in
a lot of places. I went through his briefcase here, but I couldn’t find
anything illegal.

POMELLO: Not even a pair of dice?

METCALF: Very funny, but you’re still under suspicion. Was there
anything between you and Fisk beside business?
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