(GUY NOIR THEME)


SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions -- Guy Noir, Private Eye --

(PIANO)
GK: It was February and business was slow. I was doing some surveillance of a tall dark-haired woman but I was doing that on my own. She was a runner and everyday she ran past the building a couple times in her green exercise pants that enabled me to see her gluteus to the maximus and the sidewalks were icy and if she fell I wanted to be able to give assistance. So I followed her in my car. And then one morning (PHONE RINGS) I got a mysterious phone call. (PICK UP) Hello--


SS (ON PHONE): Hi.


GK: Hi.


SS (ON PHONE): Who's this?


GK: It's me.


SS: Is that really you?


GK: Sure. Why not?


SS: It doesn't sound like you.


GK: Well, I haven't been myself lately.


SS: Oh. You just sound different.


GK: I feel different.


SS: Oh. What you doing?


GK: Now?


SS: Now.


GK: Not much. Talking to you.


SS: Yeah. Same here. I was thinking of stopping up.


GK: Sounds good.


SS: You don't mind?


GK: No.


SS: Just for a minute. Jack isn't there, is he?


GK: No, just me.


SS: Okay, sweetheart. See you in a jiffy.


GK: Okay, sweetheart. You got me all excited.


SS: I love you.


GK: Love you too.


SS: You sure there isn't something wrong?


GK: I don't think there's anything wrong. At all. (BRIDGE) I had no idea who Jack was but I figured we could work that out, so then I heard her footsteps in the hall and (KNOCKS ON DOOR).....Yeah. Come on in, sweetheart. (DOOR OPEN, FOOTSTEPS) The door's unlocked. Oh-- Lieutenant McCafferty.


TR: Sweetheart?


GK: Sorry.


TR: Didn't know you felt that way about me--. Honey--


GK: What can I do for you, Lieutenant?


TR: I come up to ask you a secret favor, Noir. And I mean hush hush. Promise?


GK: Okay, I promise.


TR: I ever hear about this from anybody, and I mean anybody, that's curtains for you, Noir, and I mean it.


GK: Don't worry...


TR: "Don't worry," he says. Listen to him. "Don't worry. Boy if it was you, you would be plenty worried, let me tell you, buddy.


GK: Just calm down, Lieutenant.


TR: Calm down!!!!! Calm down????? My wife is after me about to cut me off at the kneecaps and you're telling me to calm down????


GK: Okay, okay-- just tell me what I can do for you.


TR: This is strictly between you and me. You understand?


GK: Of course.


TR: Loose lips sink ships, if you get my drift. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Who's that?


GK: Hold on. I'll be right with you. (KNOCKS)


TR: Oh boy-- It's her. It's Monica. -- (FRANTIC FOOTSTEPS)-- Don't open the door. -- I'm gonna hide in the coat closet.


GK: Okay. (DOOR OPEN) You go in the coat closet.


TR: You get rid of her. Tell her I'm working on a case. (DOOR CLOSE)


GK: Okay. Right. ??? Yeah. Come on in. (DOOR OPEN)


TR: Wrong door! That's me!


GK: Sorry. (DOOR CLOSE) Come on in! (DOOR OPEN)


TK: Hi. Your name Noir? Guy Noir?


GK: Who's asking?


TK: That's for me to know and you to find out. (SLOW FOOTSTEPS)


GK: What can I do for you?


TK: I need some information. About a particular individual.


GK: What's his name?


TK: Her.


GK: What's her name?


TK: That's what I need to know.


GK: Who is she?


TK: That's my question.


GK: Huh?


TK: She told me her name and I forgot it. Because I didn't think I'd ever see her again. But now I've fallen in love with her and I don't know who she is.


GK: Where did you meet her?


TK: She's a waitress at Danny's Deli.


GK: So ask her what her name is.


TK: I can't do that. She'd think I forgot her name because she didn't mean anything to me.


GK: Doesn 't she wear a nametag?


TK: She does but part of her name is covered up by her corsage.


GK: What part of her name can you read?


TK: -ona.


GK: O-n-a.


TK: Right.


GK: Mona. Ramona. Iona. Desdemona. LaVona. Arizona.


TK: None of those.


GK: I see. Well, how about you bring her a fresh corsage and you say, "Here, darling, let me unpin that flower from your blouse, and put a new one there--" and you look at her nametag.


TK: Huh-uh.


GK: No?


TK: She's got a boyfriend. The dishwasher. Great big guy. Watches her like a hawk. If I made one move toward her blouse, he'd be all over me like a bad suit.


GK: Oh. Okay. Well, how about this? (KNOCKS ON DOOR)


TK: OH MY GOSH. THERE HE IS NOW.


GK: Take it easy.


TK: Take it easy!!!! He's probably got a butcher knife in his hand. He's Sicilian. You know how those people are. (KNOCKS)


GK: Be right there.


TK: Oh my gosh. I gotta hide in this coat closet. (FOOTSTEPS)


GK: You know-- (DOOR OPEN, SLAM) Well, I'll just let them work it out--- Come on in. the door's unlocked. (DOOR OPEN) (SLOW FEMALE FOOTSTEPS) Yeah, what can I do for you, kid?


SP: My name is Winona, Mr. Noir.


GK: Winona. Like the town.


SP: Right.


GK: You're the waitress at Danny's Deli.


SP: Right. It's only temporary. I'm in school. Nursing school. I used to be a singer. Did a lot of touring ... recording ...you know.


GK: Hey, wait a minute. I've heard of you. Winona Corazon. Right?


SP: Right. My real name is Wilma Corcoran.


GK: Hey, no such thing as real name -- you are who you think you are--- gosh, I loved your music.
SP: Thank you. -- I just felt as if the music business was so shallow, so selfish -- I mean, there I was on stage and ten-thousand people screaming for me and I just felt, like, Why? Why am I doing this?


GK: I saw a video of you once. There was a lot of fog and these bare-chested men lifting you up and you wore a big orange cape of some sort --


SP: Right. That was for "Appassionata" --


GK: "Appassionata" right--


SP: My first big hit.


GK: How did that go? Sing a little--


SP: (SINGS IN SPANISH, "APPASSIONATA" AND A FEW LINES)


GK: Wow. So you left that all behind so you could --


SP: There was money and glamour and big black limos and hotel suites and all the rest, and it just wasn't me. And then my uncle got sick and I went to take care of him and -- suddenly I found myself.


GK: Nursing, huh?


SP: Caring for old people. Geriatric nursing. It's what I love. People who need me, old people, people your age -- people who are no longer who they were, but they're still PEOPLE -- you know what I mean?


GK: I'm afraid so.


SP: I want to be there for them. Care for them. Ease their pain. Bring a little sunshine into their twilight years. Help them to accept death as something natural and good--


GK: You know, some of us don't want help--


SP: But I need your help, Mr. Noir. My record company is after me to do one more CD and -- I just can't. I can't. That part of my life is all over now.


GK: You can't--


SP: My record producer is after me and if he ever (KNOCKS ON DOOR) -- OH NO. OH NO. IT'S HIM. I JUST KNOW IT.


GK: You know, sometimes our fears are unfounded -- I've seen several cases of that lately --


SP: Where can I hide? (KNOCKS ON DOOR) What's this?


GK: It's a coat closet, but I wouldn't--
SP: I'll go in here. Just get rid of him for me. Please. (DOOR OPEN, MUFFLED VOICES, DOOR SLAM) (PAUSE. KNOCKS)


GK: Come in. The door's unlocked.
(DOOR OPEN, HIGH HEELS. DOOR CLOSE.)


SS: Hi.


GK: Hi. Like those green pants.


SS: Thanks.


GK: Looks like you've been out running in high heels.


SS: It gives my ankles more of a workout.


GK: I'm sure.


SS: Was I talking to you on the phone a few minutes ago?


GK: I think you were.


SS: But I don't know you.


GK: You know me better now than you did before.


SS: But I thought you were Steve.


GK: Did you want me to be Steve?


SS: I don't know.


GK: So there's hope.


SS: Is Steve here?


GK: No.


SS: Oh.


GK: But I'm here. How can I help?


SS: I need to talk to Steve.


GK: You could talk to me. I'm a good listener.


SS: But you don't know me. Steve's an old friend. I've known him for three years.


GK: I could get to know you. Three years isn't long. We could find ways to spend three years.


SS: Look, I got a wrong number, okay?


GK: Don't jump to conclusions. Look, you're all perspiry, I could take you to my place, you could get cleaned up, we could go to lunch. (KNOCKS ON DOOR)
SS: Oh my gosh. What if that's Steve? And he finds me here with you? Is there someplace I can hide?


GK: There is but it's full. Let me just open the door, it's probably FedEx. Probably a Jehovah's Witness.


SS: I don't know. (FOOTSTEPS)


GK: Try to think positively. Sometimes these things work out on their own. (DOOR OPEN) Yeah, what can I do for you?


TR: Hi. I'm looking for Jennifer.


SS: Steve!


TR: What you doing here?


SS: I thought he was you.


TR: You're kidding. This old dude? (HE LAUGHS) Come on. Let's have lunch.


SS: Okay. (HIGH HEELS) Bye, Mr. Noir.


GK: Bye. Nice to meet you. And if you ever (DOOR CLOSE, THEME)


TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...Guy Noir, Private Eye.


(MUSIC OUT)