QUIET PLEASE, MURDER (1942)

George Sanders’ character is another prime example of his trademarked, egotistic roles playing a cool, malevolent criminal. He not only steals the film but also a priceless Shakespeare manuscript. Having admired the work for some time, he half-jokingly asks the museum guard if he could take it home. "Over my dead body!" The request is granted. Of note is Sanders’ minuscule twitch of his upper lip as he fires. I imagine this little detail never originated at the director's suggestion. Working in tandem is Gail Patrick, who sells his forged copies to unsuspecting collectors while posing as a legitimate expert. One wonders how long this “partnership” will last. They appear to tolerate each other only for the monetary rewards of deception. An example is when Patrick enters his study and he senses she is in a mood, as he calls it. "Hello, Lady Dracula. How many butterflies have you tortured since lunch hoping one would turn on you?" A criminal psychologist would have a field day studying their askew occupations.

Unknown to Patrick, her latest sale went to a Nazi agent, Sydney Blackmer. She is flippant about this detail but Sanders is livid knowing his reputation. Blackmer will recognize the forgery and the transaction used Nazi funds. Words get around. Enter Richard Denning, a detective with a witty script. He is dandy in the role. Confident, handsome, and charming, nothing phases him. It is too bad more roles like this were not part of his resume. He is on his self-evident trail of Patrick, who equally pours on the charm. Denning welcomes that part but also suspects a double standard.

At this point, it gets a bit confusing for everyone involved, including the audience, with its character shell game screenplay. Patrick sets Denning up for a rendezvous with Sanders at a library. Within earshot of Denning, he passes himself off as a homicide detective. Keep in mind Sanders would not recognize Blackmer or Denning if he stumbled over them in the card catalog department. Blackmer gets a tip that Denning is Sanders and demands his money back. Sanders’ henchman, mistakenly assuming Blackmer is Denning, murders him and the library is locked down on Sanders’ instruction. He is there to steal rare, valuable books and the wrong murder is not going to waver his plan. Feel free to read this paragraph twice.

Sanders arranged for his operatives to pose as police investigators and they let no one in or out. He improvises like the conniving pro he is and suggests the priceless books should be sent to “headquarters” for safekeeping with one librarian offering him a valuable Thomas Jefferson document as well. By all means. Patrick informs Denning of Sanders’s real identity in her self-serving way. In a desperate need to do something, Denning escapes through a library window. He is quickly brought back inside. He supposedly went out to check the correct time. Denning marches down the hall and in mock revelation, “Ah, I’ve been here before!” Both Patrick and Sanders suspect some disloyalty is afoot due to the unraveling events.

An air raid blackout provides a bit of suspense. Still pressing Denning for the whereabouts of the priceless books, Sanders, assuming he and Patrick are an item, will inflict pain on her unless he talks. The arrogant thief then philosophizes about her thriving on pain and the adrenaline rush of possibly getting caught. Denning is more than happy to oblige on the pain front. The blackout is cut short by the detective's double-cross on Sanders, the books are discovered where Patrick hid them, and Denning gives her a verbal lesson about the dangers of ice in her veins. The film wraps with Sanders in handcuffs and Patrick fearing that another of Blackmer’s henchmen will find her.

This Twentieth Century Fox project was first released at the very end of 1942 in New York City with a nationwide distribution a few months later. It was directed by John Larkin, who also penned the screenplay. The film noir vacillates between serious and humorous making it a pretty fast seventy minutes yet do not expect it to escape the clutches of a routine detective mystery. Not routine is that the movie is predominantly confined inside a library. This accounts for the “Agatha Christie” tongue-in-cheek title. The location provides plenty of doors to open and close and dark aisles to go down creating some bad press for a library’s quiet spookiness, especially alone on the third floor. After sunset. To convince the viewer they are actually in a library, nearly every pistol is equipped with Hollywood’s phony “silencer.” The film holds its own as wartime encouragement. Things might have gone terribly wrong with a less competent lead cast or a different director.

Notes: The character actor, Byron Foulger, in an uncredited role, plays the persnickety library manager with a considerable amount of humorous anxiety. Especially as the air raid warden for the library. He is in total command and the rules must be followed to the letter. He tells everyone to remain calm and not run as he sprints frantically, arms flailing, into action to retrieve his helmet. Another character of note is the bald mute aide-assassin in Blackmer’s service, played by Kurt Katch, who communicates through sign language and carries a rope that can accommodate several neck sizes. Apparently, Peter Lorre did not get a casting call. A special note about Lynne Roberts, the helpful librarian to Denning. She stands out as the most genuine person in the movie, waiting for her guy to return from the war front.