Friday, April 14, 2017

Crime Does Not Pay #2: “Alibi Racket” (09/14/35)


There was close to an eight-month gap between the release of the first of MGM’s Crime Does Not Pay shorts (Buried Loot) and the second entry in the long-running series…and while the initial hesitation to continue the franchise is ponderous, the studio pressed on with Alibi Racket (1935), bringing back our old pal “Mac,” the “MGM Reporter,” for another two-reel morality play.  Mac invites us to have a chinwag with “Chief Inspector August Wilmer” …but since there are solid reasons as to why I have spent a lifetime watching old movies—including most of director Preston Sturges’ oeuvre—Wilmer is easily recognizable as character great Al Bridge, last seen here on the blog in the Hopalong Cassidy western Partners of the Plains (1938).


MAC: Chief Wilmer has a most unusual and interesting story to tell…

“Parents, ask your kids to leave the room for the duration of this two-reeler…they may find some of the graphic details disturbing in their depiction of cute, furry animals hunted for sport.”

MAC: …one which is not only close to him, but illustrates conclusively the fact that organized society cannot be beaten… (Turning to Wilmer) How about it, Chief?
WILMER: I’m afraid you’re right, Mac…

“You cannot defeat The Man.  Believe me, I’ve tried.”  Wilmer then unfolds the story of Mike Lichter, an underworld kingpin who “one morning, was found sprawled on the floor of his office, a 32-caliber bullet hole squarely between his eyes.”  (Perhaps Lichter was cleaning his gun, and it “went off.”)  Inspector Charles Mackaye (Charles Trowbridge)—Mackaye of the Yard!—is assigned to investigate Lichter’s murder, and suspicion quickly falls on Lichter’s chief lieutenant, Joe Rinelli (Edward Norris), a rather foppish sort (he’s wearing gloves, ferchrissake—but then again…so did the murderer!).


JOE: Hello, Mackaye…
MACKAYE: How are you, Joe?
JOE: I suppose you want me for that Mike Lichter job, eh?
MACKAYE: That’s it, Joe…you did it, of course
JOE: What makes you think so?
MACKAYE: Well, you had the most to gain…you’re boss now…besides, he was just about to throw you out…

Reno, baby!  Mackaye seems to have wrapped this case prematurely, so I don’t know what else I’m going to do to stall for time (you good people have seen all my card tricks) …fortunately for us, Joe has a dissenting opinion.

JOE: Sorry I can’t oblige…just so happens I didn’t rub out Mike Lichter…
MACKAYE: No?

“He was probably cleaning his gun, and it went off.”  Mackaye starts to dig into the details of Joe’s whereabouts at the time Lichter was murdered, with Rinelli all too eager to talk about his evening.  Though technically this is a flashback, we’ll dispense with the wavy lines because they didn’t use them in this short.  At 7:30pm the night previous, he was at The Grand Theatre, no doubt there to see the latest MGM release of The Bishop Misbehaves, starring Edmund Gwenn, Maureen O’Sullivan, and Lucile Watson.  (Little plug for Leo the Lion there.)  Joe gives the theatre’s ticket taker (an uncredited actress) some specific instructions:


JOE: Got any reserved seats?
TICKET TAKER: No, sir…only general admission…
JOE: Well, listen, sister…my name’s Joe Rinelli…I’m expectin’ a telephone call…where can I sit so you can call me when it comes?

The clerk presses a button that summons an usher, who’ll only be ecstatic to seat this V.I.P. in case he’s needed on the phone—he loves his soul-sucking job that much.  (This demonstrates how far we’ve come since the original release of Alibi Racket—nowadays, Joe would just leave his cellphone on and annoy his fellow theatre patrons.)  The girl asks Joe to repeat his name again, and he impatiently spells it out (“R-A-T…B-A-S-T-A-R-D”) as she jots it down on a nearby notepad.  At about 9:30pm, the phone rings in the ticket taker’s booth and she lets the caller know she’ll have “Johnny the Usher” bring Rinelli to the phone.


JOE: My call came for me at 9:30…I took it in the manager’s office and then went back to see the rest of the show…
MACKAYE: When did you leave the theatre?
JOE: Hmm…about 11:30…if Mike was croaked when you said he’d been cold a long time before I came out…
MACKAYE: Can you prove that?
JOE: Sure…you see, as I was comin’ out of the theatre…

There is then a return to the flashback as Rinelli takes special pains to tell the manager, Hopkins, how much he enjoyed the show.  Hopkins is played by Granville Bates, a veteran character thesp who will make scads of appearances in these CDNP presentations.  His well-known movie roles include The Great Man Votes (1939—as the crooked mayor) and My Favorite Wife (1940—as the bewildered judge); Wife would number among his final film gigs before his death from a heart attack in 1940.


JOE: Good feature, brother…the musical short was okay, too…

“You understand we don’t make these pictures…we just…show them.”

HOPKINS: I’m glad you liked it…
JOE: Say, uh…thanks for letting me use that phone in your office…
HOPKINS: Oh, that’s all right…glad to be of service…
JOE (handing him a stogie): Have a cigar…

Back to Mackaye’s office.

MACKAYE: You can prove that, too?
JOE: The manager will probably remember me…seein’ as he let me use his phone and everything…
MACKAYE (with a skeptical squint): Let’s go see, Joe…

Sure as you’re born, Hopkins recalls chatting with Joe at the Grand that evening and that Joe left around 11:35pm—“just before the last running of the newsreel.”  Hoppy also remembers the panatela that Joe gave him on his way out: “It was a good one, too.”

“Sure,” replies Joe with a self-satisfied expression.  “That’s all I smoke.”  (“Well, that and a little rope with my friends.”)


JOE: Well, how ‘bout it, Mackaye—satisfied?
MACKAYE: No…
JOE: For the love of Pete—the girl identifies me…she has a note about my phone call written on her pad…the usher remembers showing me in here to the phone and the manager remembers me leaving the theatre…what more do you want?
MACKAYE: A lot, Rinelli… (To Hopkins) Is that the phone he used?
HOPKINS: Yes, sir…
MACKAYE: Are you sure?

Hey, Inspector…let’s not browbeat the witnesses, shall we?  Save that for when you’re called in to drag senior citizens off an overbooked airline flight.  Rinelli’s alibi is shored up by both the ticket taker and the usher…and so he turns to Mackaye and smugly asks: “Well, little man…what now?”  The Inspector allows him to go for now…but stick around, I may ask more questions, yadda yadda yadda.  (To be honest—Rinelli is such a douchecanoe I can’t wait for when Mackaye lowers the boom on him.)

WILMER: Mackaye checked thoroughly on every detail of Joe’s story…and found that he had an iron-clad alibi…in every case in which Joe Rinelli was involved, his alibis were always perfect…and no matter what move Mackaye made, Joe had him baffled at every turn…

“So Mackaye took his fat cop pension and retired, opening a gas station outside of Needles…that would later be robbed, of course, but that’s a Crime Does Not Pay for another day.”


WILMER: …but this time the Inspector had a hunch…he was determined to follow it through…

Mackaye returns to The Grand with his assistant Al (John Sheehan).  Mackaye learns from “Johnny the Usher” where Rinelli was seated the night he was at the theatre…but more importantly, he’s told that Joe left his seat for a period of 10-15 minutes when Rinelli went to the men’s room to go winky-tinky.  Observing the restroom’s window, Mackaye gets an idea.

MACKAYE: Tell the boys to bring that window down to headquarters…
AL: What?
MACKAYE: Do as your told—and don’t ask questions…

Mackaye really needs to have a sit-down with the department’s psychiatrist—he’s starting to confuse the people who work under him for suspects of color.  Al, despite owing his presence on the force due to the strength of family connections at City Hall, later figures out why his boss made such a request: “Say…I got it!  You’re gonna find Rinelli’s fingerprints on that window downstairs.”


AL: He came here all right the night before last but he didn’t stay…he went out through that window, bumped Lichter off, and came back…
MACKAYE: All in ten or fifteen minutes?  It’d take forty-five to get from here to Mike Lichter’s place…no, Al—it’s not as simple as all that…

“Stick to busting heads and framing suspects, old friend.”  Mackaye doesn’t expect to find Joe’s fingerprints on that window—nevertheless, he cryptically tells Al to “wait and see.”

WILMER: Mackaye was in somewhat of a spot…Rinelli was a dangerous customer to monkey with…he had money…a certain amount of influence…and good legal advice…

“And a way with the ladies that was the envy of every goon in his employ, due to some gigantic physical attributes that aren’t important to my narrative.”

WILMER: …if Mackaye were not sure of his ground, he stood a good chance of getting into trouble…he took that chance…

Mackaye isn’t really gambling here by arresting Joe Rinelli—he knows that if push comes to shove, anything unfortunate that happens to Joe while he’s in custody will be whitewashed in the subsequent departmental investigation.  Soon, Mackaye’s office is filled to capacity with cops, reporters…and that “good legal advice,” played by the movies’ go-to thespian for dyspeptic cranks, Clarence Wilson.


Wilson’s character goes by “Epstein” here…and he seems like the sort who would be prominently featured in those infuriating legal commercials that dot the afternoon television newscasts my father insists on watching.

EPSTEIN: See here, Mackaye…you’ve gone too far this time…we’re going to show you that you can’t pinch everyone you set your eyes on…
MACKAYE: How are you, Epstein?
CASSIE (interrupting): How ‘bout me, Inspector—am I pinched?
MACKAYE: Hello, Cassie—no, you’re making a social call…I want to see how you’re doing…
CASSIE: I’m doin’ swell, thanks…just swell
MACKAYE: You won’t be doing so swell if we step on your meal ticket, will you?

From the context of the conversation, I’m guessing “Cassie” is Rinelli’s “moll”—though the actress portraying her goes unidentified at the {always reliable} IMDb.  In fact, the only actress who is identified is Inez Palange, portraying Joe’s mother; the cops have had to show Joe’s family to a “side room” because the only way they’re going to be accommodated in the other office is if the police start immediate work on constructing an addition.  In the side room are Mama Rinelli, Papa Rinelli (Harry Semels), and Joe’s siblings (sister Marie and brother Leo).


MACKAYE: …sorry it was necessary to bring you down here again…
MARIE: We’re getting used to it, Inspector…
MACKAYE: Yes…it’s the third time, isn’t it?  We had to have you down the time the Security Trust Company was robbed…and when Mizzeli’s dry cleaning place went up in smoke…
MARIE: And what did it get you?
MACKAYE: Nothing much, I must admit…still…uh…
MARIE: What is it this time?

Murder, Miss Rinelli…the murder of Mike Lichter,” replies Mackaye ominously.  Mama Rinelli is one of those beloved Italian mother caricatures so common in motion pictures—she says in astonishment: “My boy Joe?  He have nothing to do with it!”


MAMA: He no kill-a nobody…he’s-a good boy…he’s-a fine man…
MACKAYE: But he keeps bad company, Mrs. Rinelli…he’s in a bad business…

You’re not his mother, Mackaye—she is!  Explaining that he just wants to ask a few questions, the Inspector turns to the fourth member of the Rinelli quartet.

MACKAYE: How are you, Leo?
LEO: I’m all right, thanks…
MACKAYE: How’s the plumbing business?
LEO: Oh…not so good…Depression, you know…


“Yeah…seems like I read something about that in the newspapers.”  Mackaye offers Leo a cigarette, but Rinelli waves it away—explaining he doesn’t smoke.  When Mackaye drops his case, Leo helpfully picks it up and hands it back to the Inspector.  Mackaye then invites them all into the other room, presumably because they’re a few people short of the world’s room-stuffing record.

LEO: Wait a minute…is Joe in there?
MACKAYE: Yes…why?
LEO: Well…do we have to go in?  I don’t care very much about seeing him…
MAMA: Hah!  That’s-a you!  Your brother, he is in trouble and please…you don’t wanna see him?
LEO: No, I don’t want to see him…I don’t want anything to do with him…he’s a lousy crook and I don’t want any part of him or his rackets!
PAPA: Leo!  Quiet!
MAMA: A fine way to talk…you his brother…

Leo pleads his case with Mackaye, noting he’s a respectful bidnessman with “decent friends.”  The last time he had contact with Joe is when the police dragged the family down to headquarters for that unpleasantness at Mizzeli’s, and since that time relations between the Brothers Rinelli have been chilly to the point where they rarely associate with one another.


LEO: I don’t care what the old folks say…or Marie…I know the crowd he travels with and his shady reputation—I wouldn’t put anything past him!
MACKAYE: Lucky he has a good alibi…
LEO: Listen…can’t you ask us what you want to in here?  If I go in there, I’m liable to mix it with him—we don’t get on…
MACKAYE: I know…but I’m afraid you’ll have to come in here for a few minutes…it won’t take long…


Mackaye leads the Rinellis into the other room, which now contains a group of Syrian refugees.  “Hello, Leo!” his brother Joe calls out.  After Leo responds tepidly, Joe cracks to Epstein and some detectives “Leo’s just nuts about me.”

Another detective enters the room, and he hands Mackaye a small container—which prompts the Inspector to remark “Good” after examining its contents.  Al sticks his head in (that’s all the further he can enter) to also let Mackaye that everything “checks” with some inquiries he made earlier.  Joe starts to shift nervously on the sofa on which he’s been seated.

MACKAYE: Where were you Monday night, er, Father Rinelli?
PAPA: At home…with-a Mother…we play cards…
MACKAYE: And you, Miss Rinelli?
MARIE: I was home, too…I played with them…a friend of mine came in…
MACKAYE: How ‘bout you, Leo?


Leo explains to Mackaye—via a brief flashback—that he was at the Midtown Garage at about 8:30pm, having a blown-out tire attended to.  He was on his way uptown to meet his fiancée, and when his tire went ka-plooey he pulled into the garage because he didn’t want to muss himself fixing it (he was dressed to the nines to “go to the show”).

MACKAYE: Who was the girl you were going to meet?
LEO: Does she need to be brought into it?
MACKAYE: Why not?
LEO: Because she’s the girl I’m engaged to…she’s respectable, and she doesn’t know anything about the jams my brother’s been in…and I don’t want her to…I don’t want her brought into this at all!
MACKAYE: Sorry…I’m afraid she’ll have to be…in fact, she’s in already…

And so she is, as Mackaye instructs a uniformed cop to usher “Miss Mabel Raymond” into the room, where things are starting to get a little…close.  After confirming that she is indeed his intended, the Inspector beams: “Now we will get somewhere.”

MACKAYE: …as far as I can see, everyone’s whereabouts at the time of the murder…has been explained…and Joe Rinelli’s alibi has been proven…that is, of course, if Mr. Hopkins is still sure it was Joe he saw at the theatre…
HOPKINS (indignantly): If I’m sure…of course I’m sure!
MACKAYE: I see…

Mackaye strolls over to where Joe is sitting, and grabs Rinelli’s hat from his head—then walks back and plops it on top of Leo’s noggin as another uniform grabs Leo’s arms when he starts to protest.  Mackaye then slaps a moustache similar to Joe’s on Leo and…



…ta-dahh!!!  “Now are you sure?” Mackaye demands of Hopkins.  The manager’s gob has been thoroughly smacked.  By the way, both Joe and Leo are played by the same actor, Edward Norris—I purposely didn’t identify him earlier in the “Leo” role so as not to telegraph the surprise.  (When you watch the short, you might pick up on the deception because neither brother is shown in the same shot.)  Norris made appearances in several “A” films including TDOY fave Show Them No Mercy! (1935—there’s a review over at ClassicFlix if you can get in the front door), They Won’t Forget (1937—as the doomed teacher on trial for murder), and Boys Town (1938)—but for most of his movie career Ed languished in programmers (he’s first-rate in the 1946 budget noir Decoy). 

A little ironic trivia: Norris was signed to a long-term contract with MGM to be groomed as a leading man…but he was dropped by the wayside when studio head/rat bastard Louis B. Mayer took more of an interest in Robert Taylor…the star of last week’s Buried Loot.  Norris got very good notices for Forget (produced at Warner Brothers; it was his favorite role) but additional film offers from other studios were nixed by MGM…and a depressed Norris soon sought solace in a bottle.  (That’s why I refer to Mayer as a “rat bastard” …though you could fill a reservoir with my many additional reasons.)


MACKAYE: You bet you’re not sure…for Joe Rinelli was nowhere near the theatre Monday night… (Leo protests loudly, but is restrained by several cops) It’s the end, Leo…the end of you impersonating your brother and setting up alibis for him…
LEO: I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!
MACKAYE: My boys found that moustache and a lot more of Joe’s junk in your bureau drawer a half-hour after you left your house…huh…how you despise him, eh?  How you won’t have anything to do with him…a pretty set-up…shall I tell you what you did while he was polishing off Mike Lichter?

Mackaye then recaps the events outlining Leo’s elaborate alibi for his bro: how, dressed in Joe’s clothes and wearing the fake ‘tache, he took special care to tell the ticket taker about his phone call and spell his name out (insuring that she would write his name down on her pad).  Once in his seat, he left for the men’s lounge, asking Johnny the Usher to hold his spot in the movie theatre.  Hopping out the restroom window, he changed into his Leo duds and headed out in his car, putting a nail in his rear tire to simulate the blowout.  (He even mentioned to the garage attendant that he had to meet his girl at 8:30, prompting the attendant to glance at his watch so he could remember the time—thus not only setting up Joe’s alibi but his own.)  Leo arrived back at the theatre in time to be in his seat awaiting the 9:30 phone call (from Joe), and upon his exit from The Grand, chatted up manager Hopkins to establish he had been there all evening.

Leo thought he was smart…but not quite clever enough to fool the wily Inspector Mackaye.  Mackaye’s “dropping” of his cigarette case was a ruse to get Leo’s fingerprints…so that they could be matched with the ones on the restroom window.  “And if you weren’t stooging for your brother,” accuses Mackaye, “how comes it that you, running a second-rate plumbing concern, makes presents of $20,000 to dames?”  That’s the reason why Mabel was ferried down to the station—to confirm that, despite being in the throes of the Depression, her fiancé has money to burn.  (It appears that Miss Raymond has been “under surveillance” for some time now, and Mackaye’s men found a safety deposit box in her name with the above-named denomination in tens, twenties, and fifties—the same cash “liberated” from the Security Trust Company.  To be honest, I thought this was reaching a little—I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the cops on that detail answered to “Detective Deus Ex Machina.”)


MACKAYE: Your brother Joe killed Mike Lichter…and you aided and abetted him…you’re an accessory…and you’re going to get the same medicineyou’re going to the chair, Leo!  You’re going to burn!  You won’t like it—it hurts, they tell me…

Boy, do you have a gift for understatement.  (“You’re going to need a lot of aloe, kid!”)

MACKAYE: …you won’t like it…but you can’t beat it!  We’ve got you just where we want you!

Not so fast, my fine-feathered flatfoot!  Leo offers to turn states’ evidence.  “There’ll be leniency in that, won’t there?”

“Sure!” enthuses Mackaye.  “If you come clean…”  The only thing, however, worse than having a twin brother is a twin brother who’s a stool pigeon.  Learning that his bro is going to throw him under the bus does not sit well with Joe—now those two really have a reason for their animosity—and he tries to leap up from the couch to strangle his twin.  With the wrap-up of l’affaire Rinelli, it’s time for Chief Wilmer to take that victory lap.

WILMER: And there you are…in one morning, Mackaye had solved three major crimes…crimes that had been carefully planned over a period of years…
MAC: But not planned quite carefully enough, huh?

Nobody likes a brown noser, Mac.


WILMER: Of course not…in this day, crime detection is a science…there never was and there never will be a perfect crime

Psst…Mr. Bridge…take a gander at this list and then get back to me, will ya?

WILMER: …and the one little slip-up—no matter how small—is always their undoing…it may take time…and relentless perseverance…but the police never stop until they get their man…
MAC: And what happened to the Rinellis?
WILMER: Joe was electrocuted six months later…

It hurts, they tell me.

WILMER: …Leo turned states’ evidence and will spend the rest of his time behind grey walls and steel bars…

“And me?  I go on to become one of the most beloved characters in Western folklore.”

MAC: Which should be a lesson in any man’s language…
WILMER: You’re right, Mac…and the sooner criminals realize that they cannot combat a hundred thousand trained criminal investigators…then and then only will they learn that crime does not pay



“Now let’s hit that steam room!”  Next week: Desert Death—g’bye now!

1 comment:

Andrew Leal said...

I'd have to check on thirties law, but *could* you go to the chair for being an accessory in covering up a crime, even if it is before/during the fact? I'm sure not taking Mad Dog Mackaye's word for it.