Dead Reckoning (1947 film)

1947 film by John Cromwell

Dead Reckoning is a 1947 American film noir about a war hero who begins investigating the death of his friend and fellow soldier. The investigation leads him to his friend's mistress, a mysterious woman whose husband his friend was accused of murdering.

Lizabeth Scott and Humphrey Bogart
Directed by John Cromwell. Written by Steve Fisher and Oliver H. P. Garrett.
He Doesn't Trust Anyone...Especially Women!Taglines

Captain Warren 'Rip' Murdock

  • Johnny, why don't you get rid of the grief you got for that blonde, whoever she is? Every mile we go, you sweat worse with the same pain. Didn't I tell you all females are the same with their faces washed?
  • I hated every part of her but I couldn't figure her out yet. I wanted to see her the way Johnny had. I wanted to hear that song of hers with Johnny's ears. Maybe she was alright. And maybe Christmas comes in July. But I didn't believe it.
  • I didn’t like the feeling I had about her - the way I wanted to put my hand on her arm, the way I kept smelling that jasmine in her hair, the way I kept hearing that song she'd sung. Yeah, I was walking into something, alright.
  • I remember there was a whiff of jasmine just before I was knocked out. Maybe, maybe it was her. Suddenly I got a feeling I know it was. Jasmine.
  • [referring to two war souvenir hand grenades] If I were you, I'd turn 'em in to Army Ordnance. You start coughin' too hard with one of them in your hand, there'll be nothing left but the gold in your teeth... if it don't melt!
  • There's something about that big lug I didn't like. Maybe it's calling me friend.
  • I'm the brass-knucks-in-the-teeth-to-dance-time type.
  • [on the phone] Whattya mean, am I checkin' up on you? Of course. I am. I forgot to tell you, I don't trust anybody - especially women!
  • You know, you do awful good. I came here to - but go ahead. Put Christmas in your eyes and keep your voice low. Tell me about paradise and all the things I'm missing. I haven't had a good laugh since before Johnny was murdered.


  • Martinelli: You place me in an extremely distasteful position, Mr. Murdock. Brutality has always revolted me.


Rip Murdock: You know, the trouble with women is they ask too many questions. They should spend all their time just being beautiful.
Coral Chandler: And let the men do the worrying.
Rip Murdock: Yeah. You know, I've been thinking: women ought to come capsule-sized, about four inches high. When a man goes out of an evening, he just puts her in his pocket and takes her along with him, and that way he knows exactly where she is. He gets to his favorite restaurant, he puts her on the table and lets her run around among the coffee cups while he swaps a few lies with his pals...
Coral Chandler: Why...
Rip Murdock: Without danger of interruption. And when it comes that time of the evening when he wants her full-sized and beautiful, he just waves his hand and there she is, full-sized.
Coral Chandler: Why, that's the most conceited statement I've ever heard.
Rip Murdock: But if she starts to interrupt, he just shrinks her back to pocket-size and puts her away.
Coral Chandler: I understand. What you're saying is: women are made to be loved.
Rip Murdock: Is THAT what I'm saying?
Coral Chandler: Yes, it's a confession. A woman may drive you out of your mind, but you wouldn't trust her, and because you couldn't put her in your pocket, you get all mixed up.

Rip Murdock: Say, when you get on again as a professor at some college, and I'm back running my cabs in St. Louis, send me up a problem in algebra once in a while, will you?
Johnny Drake: Blonde or brunette?
Rip Murdock: Redhead in a sloppy joe sweater.
Johnny Drake: I think you're a great guy, too, Rip, if that's what this conversation's about. Even in the U.S.A., this world.

Coral Chandler: Martinelli won't ever give up the gun. And this time you might get killed.
Rip Murdock: That would be awful. Wouldn't it?

Photographer: Captain Murdock?
Rip Murdock: On the hoof, son.
Photographer: The camera boys'd like to get a couple of shots of you and Sergeant Drake. Could you come out on the platform? You only stop here for five minutes.
Rip Murdock: This is the City of Brotherly Love?
Photographer: That's what New Yorkers call it. They don't live here.
Rip Murdock: I'm all for love, son.


  • He Doesn't Trust Anyone...Especially Women!
  • You can't push me around!
  • There never was a Bogart like this... and here's the reason...
  • There's no compromise here.


Wikipedia has an article about: