Dangerous Assignment: Burmese Witnesses 05/24/1950

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Dangerous assignment starring Brian Dunleby as Steve Mitchell.

Yeah, danger is my assignment. I get sent to a lot of places I can't even pronounce. They all spell the same thing though, trouble.

But when I walk into the commissioners office, I don't realize this assignment is going to involve a dead correspondent, a Burmese girl, a trip through the jungle, and a fallen idol.

Morning. Good morning. Nice to see you.

Last night, an American newspaper correspondent named Kent Jackson was murdered in Rangoon, Burma.

Your plane leaves in an hour.

I'm flying clear to Burma because a correspondent gets himself killed.

Kent Jackson has been posing as an European political refugee. We think he'd been investigating some sort of political refugee racket.

Maybe he was getting too warm.

Looks that way. Now we have one lead. The Burmese girl named Linya, who we think witnessed the killing.

Where is this Linya?

She disappeared.

Oh, great.

The first contact in Rangoon will be chained as an allegation there. He'll fill you in on the background.

Get over there, Steve. Find this girl, Linya, and solve Kent Jackson's murder.

Well, that's it. You've got your assignment. Good luck.

Anybody who knows baseball is played with a bat knows Jackie Robinson is about the hottest thing in the game.

And now, Jackie has turned actor to play himself in the Jackie Robinson story.

It'll be turning up at your hometown theater soon, planning to take the kids.

And by way of a short post-cryptor of the movie, maybe you'd be interested in what Jackie told us about Wheaties.

He says, of all of those crisp, whole wheat flakes, sure helps me get set for the day.

Well, that's about it.

I think you'll like the Jackie Robinson story, and I'm dead sure you'll like Wheaties, breakfast of champions.

Fryum both.

Now, here is dangerous assignment, starring Brian Dunlevy in the role of Steve Mitchell, colorful two-fisted government agent.

Sure, this is going to be real easy.

All I have to do is find a missing girl named Linya in one of the wildest countries in the world.

Then get her to put the finger on a killer who'll probably be trying to do likewise to me.

It's Monday when I get to Rangoon, it's raining, and hot, and chambers is waiting for me at his house.

Well, Mitchell, I was sitting right here reading the night of Jackson's murder when suddenly I heard shots out in the garden.

This girl, Linya ran in here, screaming at me to save her.

I ran out in the garden, got flipped on the head.

Oh, I wondered what the bandage was for.

When I came to, Linya was gone.

Look, did you know this girl, Linya, at all?

Oh, yes, she worked in a restaurant about half a mile from here.

I used to drop in there frequently.

Well, I don't get the connection between Linya and Jackson's murder.

When Linya was shot at in my garden, one of the bullets was embedded in the side of the house.

The police dug it out and compared it with a bullet that killed Jackson 15 minutes earlier.

The two slugs matched.

Oh.

So Jackson's killer was after Linya too.

Well, there's my tie-in, all right.

You know much about the deal Jackson was investigating?

Yes.

Somebody here in Burma has been receiving political refugees from Europe for a price.

Then, whoever it is, contact the European company involved and for more doves, delivers the refugees back to them.

That sounds like a real sweet deal.

Well, if I'm going to find this girl, Linya, I better start getting some leads about her.

Let's see, you say she worked at a restaurant.

Yes, a French restaurant run by Papa Valdeur.

You'll find it down the street about half a mile.

Okay, I guess Papa Valdeur's is my next stop.

Well, see you later, Chamberlain.

I am sorry, Monsieur, but I am closed for the night.

I cannot serve you.

I didn't come here for food.

I came for information.

You are Papa Valdeur and we miss you.

I'd like to talk to you about one of your waitresses.

A girl named Linya.

Oh, I do this while there.

Oh, I didn't see you over there.

If you wish to talk about Linya, you would talk to me.

Really? Who are you?

The tenth remat of the police.

And you?

Steve Mitchell.

May I ask why you are interested in a girl, Linya?

You may ask Lieutenant.

And I think these credentials of mine will answer your question.

I see.

I will be happy to cooperate with you, Mr. Mitchell.

I guess.

Now, what can you tell me about the girl, Papa Valdeur?

Oh, very little Monsieur, Linya.

She was a good retress and a very good girl.

What you live?

In her rooming house, about a half hours walk from this place.

Here is your dress.

Thank you, Latan.

Linya walked home every night, huh?

That is right, Monsieur.

Well, then it seems logical that somewhere on her road,

she passed the part of Jackson's killing and witnessed this.

I have investigated that.

Linya could not possibly have arrived at the scene of a killing

at the time when the killing took place.

I walked off the distance myself.

She could not have been closer than three blocks to it.

Then I don't get it.

Why did the killer take off after her?

She's most puzzling.

Sure is.

The only other answer is that Linya knows something that she doesn't realize, you know.

That means I've got to find her before the killer does.

Angoon is a loud city in Mitchell.

Yeah.

We're not even sure she's still in Rangoon.

Well, thanks for the information, gentlemen.

I think I'll go over to Linya's rooming house and see what I can find out there.

Hey, wake up.

Snap out of it.

Oh.

Come on.

Drop those little lids open a minute.

The retaliatory reality is never as good as the drink.

I saved the philosophy.

You run away.

No.

Hey.

Wake up.

Snap out of it.

Oh.

Come on.

Drop those little lids open a minute.

The retaliatory reality is never as good as the drink.

I saved the philosophy.

You run this rooming house.

Yes.

It is so.

You got any idea where this girl Linya could be?

No.

Not little.

Come on, Rip Van Winkle.

Pull yourself up off that disc.

What do you wish to lose?

Do you know where the Linya had any relatives in this town, any place that she could have gone to hide?

Oh, she spoke of only one.

A great uncle.

What's his name?

The lie seen is a priest.

Where could I find this, Dalai Singh?

Oh, Dalai Singh.

Go outside and face to the waist.

You will see the temple.

Okay.

Thanks.

So long, dreamboat.

I locate the native temple and go inside.

The only light comes from a few scattered candles.

There are life-sized idols sitting up on purges along the walls.

Then I spot a light coming from a room in the back of the temple.

I start toward it.

Suddenly, there's a grating noise.

I look up.

One of the idols is toppling over.

Right on top of me, I dive to one side as it falls.

It hits me a glancing blow on the shore of the country.

It's falling on floor.

There's a ruffle of drapes behind the idol.

And running steps by the time I pull myself up off the floor, there's no one in sight.

I go into the back room.

A little old man with a face like a prune is sitting there staring straight ahead.

Excuse me.

I'd like to talk to you.

I said I'd like to talk to you.

Look, would you mind focusing your eyes on me a minute?

I must apologize.

I am withdrawn.

Yes, my son.

What is it?

You're Dalai Singh.

That is my name.

And your linear is great, Uncle?

That is the earthly relationship.

Yes.

I was a pretty earthly reception.

You gave me a couple of minutes ago.

I do not understand.

That idol, the one that almost fell on me.

You must pardon me.

I was so immersed in meditation.

I heard nothing.

Well, I guess I wasn't that immersed because it sounded awfully noisy to me.

What do you wish of me?

I'm trying to find Linya.

What purpose?

I want to find out what she knows about a killing that took place a few nights ago.

Is this your true purpose, my son?

That and protecting her from whoever's after it.

Come closer.

Now, gaze into my eyes.

No, do not blink.

Gaze steadily.

Look, what are you trying to do?

Hypnotize me?

What a little longer.

So, there is honesty in your eyes.

You have passed the first test.

Well, that's good to know.

Now, can you tell me where Linya is?

Be in front of the Shui Dagon Bogota in one hour.

Shui Dagon Bogota.

How do I go about finding it?

You cannot fail to see it.

It looms over the entire city.

Okay, in one hour.

Will Linya be there?

Everything will be accomplished.

Depart in peace.

Deli Singh was right.

It isn't hard to spot the Bogota even at night.

It's up on a rise overlooking the city.

On the way up there, I get the feeling I'm being followed.

I stop and turn around just in time to see a skinny little gent

drive into the alley behind me.

By the time I get to the Bogota there's an uneasy thought

packing away at my brain.

This cold deal could be a trap.

But there's nothing to do except to wait and find out.

Mr. McKenzie.

My arm.

Look, I don't like guys slipping up behind me.

Please.

Hey, you're the guy who's been following me.

Yes, but I bring you no harm.

Who are you? What do you want?

I am Molly.

You seek the girl, Linya.

I can take you to her.

Yes.

How do I know this isn't a trap?

Who sent you?

You please.

Deli Singh.

I see. Where is Linya?

I must take you there. Come.

We will walk.

Okay, Molly. But get this.

I'll have one eye on you the whole way.

And if this is a trap, if anything happens,

it's going to happen to you first.

Come on.

Look, we've been winding our way through back alley

for the last half hour, Molly.

Look, here we are. It's probably great.

Okay, you first.

And don't try anything.

Come.

Dark in here.

I will turn on the lights.

So.

Well, I say.

Yes, Mr. Mitchell.

Look, what is all this?

You send a guy to take me on a cook's tour of the city.

Then he brings me down a back alley to you again.

You sure don't believe in taking any chances?

Toying with chance sometimes invites disaster.

Okay, okay. Now where's Linya?

To fetch the girl, Molly.

Well, so this is Linya.

It took a lot of finding, little lady.

Let the man speak first, my child.

Look, Linya.

The man who tried to kill you the other night

is probably the same one who killed Jackson.

Did you get a good look at him?

A one moment, Mr. Mitchell.

And?

You accept this girl as Linya?

Well, of course. She just got through telling me.

No.

No, I did not say she was Linya.

Wait a minute. You mean she isn't?

You have passed a second test, Mr. Mitchell.

If you had been the one who was trying to harm Linya,

then you would have known this girl was not...

Oh, great. Look.

Isn't it about time the examinations were over?

What do I have to get? Straight A's?

You have proven yourself.

Now, I will direct you to Linya.

Is she here in Rangoon?

No.

You must purchase a ticket on the river boat.

River boat?

Yes.

It will take you up the Iroati River.

A person will approach you on the boat.

You will say to that person the jungle is very dark.

If that person replies but soon it will be light again.

That person is your friend and will lead you to Linya at the next port.

Sounds like a pretty involved routine.

Linya has placed herself under my protection.

I can do no less than my best.

And now we part.

I, to return to the temple,

you will take the trip of the river.

May your journey be as safe as mine will be.

I go down to the waterfront by a ticket on the river boat.

I've got an hour before itself too often.

Then I realize I don't even know whether it's going to be a man or a woman who contacts me,

so I go back to the temple to ask Dalai Singh.

I start walking along the road idols.

The one somebody tried to push over on me is still lying on the floor,

but there's no vacant spot on the wall.

There's another idol sitting there, but that idol moves a little.

I go closer.

Then there's a crumbles over and drops to the floor.

I see it's not an idol after all.

It's Dalai Singh with a knife in his heart.

Maybe you've got the idea that I tell you all these things about Wheaties

just so you'll go out and buy them.

Well, that isn't it at all.

I'm not worried about you.

You've been eating Wheaties long enough to know how good they are.

It's those neighbors of yours I'm thinking about.

Now, suppose you just go over there some morning and just tell them all the nice things about Wheaties.

Like they're cold wheat and they're wonderful with milk and fruit,

and they make you feel fine and kids rub them in their flaky and crisp and loaded with vitamins.

I think that'd be a mighty neighborly thing to do.

I'll say I just have to think, what if the neighbors are listening in tonight too?

They'll probably be over here tomorrow morning.

They'll tell you about Wheaties.

Well, that's fun.

And now back to dangerous assignments and Steve Mitchell.

May your journey be as safe as mine.

That's what Dalai Singh had said to me.

And now here he is dead.

And that gives me a strong hint of what my journey is going to be like.

Because if Dalai Singh talked before he died,

there's only going to be somebody trying to contact me aboard the boat.

There'll also be somebody else trying to kill me.

And I'll let you shove off.

It's an old side wheeler.

I give the passengers the ones over trying to figure out which one to use the password about the dark jungle on.

There are a few natives with that guy carrying a white French coat of smooth looking Egyptian and a girl.

The kind of a girl you'd vote is the one you'd most like to take a trip up a river with.

I stand there at the rail and pretty soon she saunters over.

Hello.

Hi.

What's your name?

Steve.

You?

Large.

Hi, Marge.

You got a smoke?

Sure.

Here.

Thanks.

Long way from home, Marge, Steve.

Funny how I was thinking the same about you.

No.

A river boat of bar that's home to me.

What are you heading?

Up the river, Mandalay.

I'm going to sing in a joint up there.

Oh.

Yeah.

I guess my voice wouldn't get me into the dark hub,

but they're not so particular in grandma.

You've been around this neck of the woods quite a while, huh?

About three lifetimes.

Say that that jungle is very dark, isn't it?

Hmm?

I said that jungle is very dark.

Oh, yes.

Well, I imagine it'll...

What's the matter?

That fat gentleman over there with a white trench coat.

Is he up under yours?

No.

What?

He seems to be trying to take in every word.

You know him?

I've seen him around my inn a few times.

His name is Lazarus.

I see.

Excuse me in a minute, Marge.

Yes, Steve.

Good evening, Lazarus.

Hey, just a minute.

What do you want?

You seemed pretty interested in what I was saying

to the young lady a minute ago.

Hey.

I don't know what you're talking about.

No, you were sure drinking in every word, Lazarus.

You're mistaken.

I was merely enjoying the view.

Good night.

I hope you were proud of me.

Do you know what you're trying to see?

People just did I could not avoid seeing homage to such beauty.

You're a real flowery-type guy, aren't you?

Oh, Steve.

Hi.

Looks like you just weren't meant to be lonely, Marge.

This is a...

What did you say your name was, Betty?

Comey.

At your service.

Comey.

Meet Steve.

I am indeed honoured, Steve.

I hope you will forgive my intrusion on your pay-to-take.

Yeah.

Egyptian artist.

Yes.

From Cairo.

What brings you here to Burma?

Quite possibly the same thing that brings you here, Steve.

What's that?

Yes.

I sense that we are two kindred spirits, each seeking adventure.

Each willing to travel around the world to find it.

You're just looking for adventure, huh?

Yes.

You see, Steve, I am a romantic at heart.

And why would I leave my considerable estate in Cairo

to travel up a Burma to live around a rickety boat?

Brother.

If I had a considerable estate in Cairo, or Cairo will annoy,

I wouldn't be peddling through this swamp.

The quest for adventure often leads us to unlikely surrounding.

It sure does.

And now please excuse me.

Perhaps it was stated that we should meet Steve.

If so, we shall meet again.

Well, it would be pretty hard to avoid meeting again on this tub.

I'll see you around, commies.

Good night to you both.

Get a load of him.

I am a romantic at heart yet.

Yeah.

Hey, look, Mark, just before you spotted that guy Lazarus watching us,

I made a remark to you about the jungle being pretty dark.

Yeah, I remember.

You started to say something in reply.

What was it?

It'll keep Steve.

Oh.

Well, okay.

Well, I think I'll turn in.

I'll see you in the morning, huh?

Yeah.

Matter of fact, I'll make a point of it.

I stand there at the rail alone,

staring down into the black water of the Irawadi River,

wondering how many crocodiles for cubics quit.

At this point, it looks like Marge of the Contact,

who's to leave me to the Burelinia.

That leaves either the flower, Egyptian, commies,

or the guy with a white French code, Lazarus,

as the killer of Dalai Singh.

But I've got to be sure who's who before I can do anything about it.

Then suddenly there's a faint sound behind me, a hand shoves me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I get a glimpse of a white code,

as I grapple over the side.

There's a loose line trailing in the water, I grab at it as I hit.

Almost turns my arm out of the socket, but hang on.

There's no desire to be a crocodile bait and filing.

I pull myself back on board.

There's no one in sight, but I know the white code I spotted

belongs to one Mr. Lazarus.

The next morning we dock at a river port,

Lazarus is the first one to shore.

I follow him to a little shop.

Oh, yes, sir.

May I say you some last thank you to you?

Where's the guy who just came in here?

But I don't know what you're talking about.

Wait a minute, that door over there. Where does it lead?

Oh, just through the back room.

What the hell, nasty?

What's up, where are you going?

No way.

Hello, Lazarus.

Good morning, Mr. Mitchell.

Come in, please.

Quickly, we have no time to lose.

Look, what's this all about, Lazarus?

I did not have a chance to contact you about the boat, Mitchell.

You were never alone, so I reasoned that if I left the boat in the hurry,

you would follow me.

You did.

You trying to tell me that you're my contact?

I am.

Tell I sing as a friend of mine.

Don't give me that.

You tried to shove me overboard last night.

I spotted your white French coat.

That coat was stolen from my see-through.

All right, try this.

The jungle is very dark.

It's too little to be lighting it.

And it's further proof of my identity.

Linear.

What?

Yes, Mr. Lazarus.

Hey, you may join us now, child.

So, this is Linear.

You've been hiding in the back of the shop ever since you left Rangoon, huh?

Yes.

My great uncle Dalai Singh said he would send help to me.

How is he?

I'm sorry, Linear, but he's dead.

What's that?

Dalai Singh?

Dad?

My one friend.

God.

I think the same person who's after you killed him.

And an American newspaper man named Jackson.

When you, now you've got to tell me who that person is.

I hope that I know nothing, Mr. Mitchell.

I don't know why someone is trying to kill me.

Look, you worked at Papa Valdar's restaurant in Rangoon.

Yes.

Every night, you leave right at eight and start walking home.

Now, the night of the killing, you must have seen something on the way home.

No.

I saw nothing.

Then you heard something, shots, for instance.

No.

Mitchell, do you suppose the killer mistook me for another girl?

I don't know.

Look, I'm going to try once more, Linear.

Now, try to remember.

Yes.

On the night of the killing, you left Papa Valdar's at eight o'clock, as usual, right?

Yes.

Now, 15 minutes later, you were within four blocks of the scene of the killing.

That's about half a mile from Papa Valdar's restaurant.

No, I did not get that far.

What?

You're really nice.

I had forgotten to take some food that Papa Valdar had given me.

So, I went back to the restaurant to get it.

That means, Linear could not possibly have witnessed the killing.

It must be a case of mistaken identity.

Yes, the minute lies, Rose.

Keep on letting you.

Who is?

I opened the door.

Then I saw someone inside the restaurant.

Oh, why is that?

I do not know.

I had never seen this person before.

I guess she means me.

That is the one.

I told it.

Nice and steady, all of you.

Well, Steve, you were concentrating so hard on following Lazarus.

When he left the boat, you made it pretty easy for me to follow you.

Thanks for leading me to Linear.

Yeah.

Congratulations to me.

Chump of the world.

Oh, now, Buster, let's not cry in our beer.

Oh, my, such long faces.

Now, it looks like a little margin.

I'll have to cheer you up.

Well, what are you going to do?

Tell a joke or something?

You know, I might at that.

Because I've got a real funny one stored up for you, kids.

It'll kill you.

No, kidding.

It actually may cost you money not to eat breakfast.

Honest, look.

You skip breakfast, so all comes lunch and you've got to eat like a horse to catch up.

And that's tough on the budget.

So here's the deal.

Start breakfast with a nice bowl of crisp, whole wheat wheaties with milk and some fruit maybe.

They'll be just about wearing off at noon and you'll be all set for a nice, reasonable lunch.

And you know, with those wheaties in there, you'll feel as good as money in the bank all morning long.

Now, here is the conclusion of Dangerous Assignment.

What are you going to do today?

Are you kidding?

You mean you're going to kill us?

Just because Linda happened to see you in a restaurant?

That's the general idea, Lazy Old Boy.

Well, why don't you get it over with, Marge?

In a minute, Buster.

You've called.

You can call me Steve.

And what are you waiting for?

My little helper.

I don't want any slippers.

Helper?

And you're not in this deal alone.

No, he's tying up that shopkeeper on the front.

Oh, here he is now.

Stop over there!

Oh, he's good evening.

Yeah, he must be most difficult to find.

Well, I begin to get it.

You and Papa Valder were running this political refugee racket together, Marge.

You killed the correspondent Jackson and went back to report the Valder,

but just then Linya stuck her head in the door.

You two didn't want to be seen together, so you took off after Linya.

Come, my dear.

Let us attend to the business at hand without further delay.

Okay, Papa.

Wait.

You must pay my life.

I beg of you.

Oh, save it, hero.

But I was only trying to do a favor for a friend.

I had nothing to do with it.

You sure you must believe me.

Nice brave guys to work with.

Please.

Don't kill me.

I'll do anything to save.

Please, I beg of you.

Get up off your knees.

Take it like a big boy, Lazarus.

Suddenly, I realize what Lazarus is up to.

He is squealing from mercy like a stucker.

But all the wireless engines slowly forward on his knees toward Marge's gun.

I said, get up.

Very well.

They're coming at gun.

Valder is behind Marge.

He puts out his gun.

Jump to one side, but I need him halfway.

Look at the wall, and Valder hits the floor.

Marge gives Lazarus a quick nap.

What's in the face?

Swings are gun-free for a second to lay.

Let go of my wrist.

Drop the gunner up.

Break your arm.

Oh, yeah.

Drop it.

Thanks.

I'll take it now.

You okay, Lazarus?

Quite.

Looks like he's a little bigger hero than you gave him credit for, Marge.

Okay, okay.

The things didn't turn out quite like I'd say.

No.

High feelings, Steve.

Oh, no.

No hard feelings.

You kill a newspaper man in a priest to say nothing of a few political refugees here and

there along the line, but no hard feelings.

Well, you've got to write to your series.

Can I go now?

You are, kidding.

Look, Buster, you've got no proof of any of this.

There weren't any witnesses to either of those killings, and if you think you're going to

get any kind of confession out on me.

I've got your gun, Marge, and that's just as good as a confession.

What are you talking about?

The police back in Rangoon have the slugged that killed Jackson.

Five will get your tennis matches in your gun.

Wait a minute.

Yeah.

Even in Burma, they've got ballistics.

And I bet that's one word you wish had never been invented.

But no hard feelings, Marge.

I mean, Buster.

Come on.

Dangerous assignment.

And this is your Wheaties man, Frank Martin.

Inviting you to listen next Monday night to Frank Lovejoy and Nightbeat

on the Wheaties Big Parade.

See you then.

Going to make a pie sometime soon?

Make it with crustquake, the Betty Crocker pie crust mix.

You know it's a tender, flaky crust that's at the bottom of every delicious pie.

Sure as you use crustquake.

And so easy.

Just add water to crustquake.

And what pie crust?

Tender crust, tasty crust, rich, short, lovely crust.

Just like Betty Crocker makes.

And you can make it.

Just add water to crustquake.

Crustquake, the Betty Crocker pie crust mix.

Tomorrow Perry Como sings at the supper club on NBC.