Three on a Ticket

[first lines]

[Mike finds his secretary doing calisthenics in his office]

Michael Shayne:
Angel, what are you doing?

Phyllis Hamilton:
My beauty exercises, Mike.

Michael Shayne:
You don't need to do that.

Phyllis Hamilton:
Oh, no? With all those dizzy blondes throwing themselves at you, I'm not taking any chances. Besides, I want you to love me when I'm old and gray.

Michael Shayne:
Why should a couple of years make a difference? Anyway, I'm allergic to blondes. Can I help it if I'm irresistible?

[Phyllis calls the homicide squad to report a murder]

Phyllis Hamilton:
This is Mike's secretary, Phyllis. A corpse just walked in and fell down on the floor.

Inspector Pete Rafferty:
What!

Phyllis Hamilton:
You don't have to shout at me. I said a corpse just walked in and fell down on the floor.

Inspector Pete Rafferty:
That's what I thought you said. Keep him there, I want to question him!

Helen Brimstead:
I can't keep paying blackmail the rest of my life.

Michael Shayne:
What do you want me to do?

Helen Brimstead:
Well, he's an escaped convict. If you tried to arrest him and he should resist, you could...

Michael Shayne:
Knock him off?

Helen Brimstead:
If that's what you want to call it.

Michael Shayne:
It's a little out of my line. I haven't killed a husband in some time.

[Tim is rummaging through Phyllis' desk]

Michael Shayne:
What are you looking for?

Tim Rourke:
Bodies.

Michael Shayne:
Oh, the janitor probably swept them out this morning.

Michael Shayne:
I think I'll go see a blonde about a man.

Phyllis Hamilton:
Okay, let's go.

Michael Shayne:
Oh, well, I won't need you this time - strictly business.

Phyllis Hamilton:
Your definition of business seems very elastic.

[Phyllis and Tim are standing in the middle of the wreckage of what used to be Mike's office]

Phyllis Hamilton:
What a mess.

Tim Rourke:
Yeah, Mike seems to be on the wrong side of this case - they're bringing the fight to him!

Phyllis Hamilton:
Mike, your repulsive blonde is on the phone.

Michael Shayne:
You mean "impulsive".

Tim Rourke:
Hey, Mike. You're still holding out. Why? Don't you trust a federal agent or are you gambling with Phyll's life to cut yourself in on the deal?

Michael Shayne:
Is that the way it looks to you?

Tim Rourke:
Yeah.

Michael Shayne:
You better get yourself a pair of glasses.

[the police have just arrested Mike's pretty client for multiple murders]

Phyllis Hamilton:
Well, that's one more blonde out of my life.

[last lines]

[with the case wrapped up, Tim slugs Mike]

Tim Rourke:
I hated to do that Mike.

Michael Shayne:
That's all right. I had it coming.

Drunk:
Hey! I didn't know I was livin' next door to a den of criminals. She was mighty cute, though. I tried to get better acquainted.

Michael Shayne:
Yeah? You're lucky you didn't make the grade. You might have wound up in the morgue.