Cap Table for Two. Founders of DVC on doing business as a couple, love, conflict and startups.

The Monitor, Flatlines, the doctor's work fast, the paddles charge, his family watches from the corner of the room, and Bob Frisbee, husband, father, lifelong pilot, feels something, snap. He wakes in a room he doesn't recognize. No windows, a door with no handle, light with no source, and seated across a carved antique table is a man with a file, an impossibly thick file, who introduces himself only as Mr. O. "You're in the waiting room," he says, "and we have a great deal to get through." Everything Bob has ever done is in that file. Every person he wronged and never faced, every wound he carried that quietly poisoned the people around him. Every dark corner of life that looked from the outside, perfectly ordinary. Above them, a golden wheel appears, and the spokes that are dark are the ones that matter most. But this isn't just a life review. Behind the veil of the world Bob thought he knew, something has been moving, ancient, deliberate, with a face that doesn't belong on anything that was ever human. There are forces here that don't want Bob to finish what he has started, and the waiting room has an escape tunnel, but Mr. O won't tell him where that leads. The waiting room, a novel by L.A. Marzouly, a researcher who has spent decades pulling back the veil on the supernatural world most people pretend isn't there, narrated by Darren Marlar. You die. Then, the reckoning begins. The waiting room, by L.A. Marzouly, a new audio book available now on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. aising ppen Thank the Mrs Wyatt. Aaw Well oh oh yeah my men UT ugly and you're covering your eye I am the swimmer Welcome Weirdos. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Retro Radio, Old Time Radio in the dark. Brought to you by WeirdDarkness.com. Here I have the privilege of bringing you some of the best dark creepy and macabre old-time radio shows ever created. If you're new here, welcome to the show. While you're listening be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, sign up for my free newsletter, connect with me on social media, listen to free audio books I've narrated. Plus you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression, dark thoughts or addiction. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights and come with me into tonight's Retro Radio, Old Time Radio in the dark. Let's CBS Radio Mystery Theatre presents (Music) Come in! Welcome. I'm E.G. Marshall. In those primitive societies where a strong central government is not yet taken shape or in those where it has decayed, justice, as we know it, is not always easily enforced. When that occurs, people begin taking the law into their own hands, as happened in our country, in many places when the United States was a little younger. The frontiers of US history were often characterized by private justice and the blood feud based on simple vengeance. This lion belongs to me. You come on it only if I want you here. That corpse can just lay there and rot. But, Pa, you can't do that. Who says I can't? They can lay there and be dinner for the vultures. And if anyone is foolish enough to lay a finger on that dead body for any reason, they'll pay for it in blood. Do I make myself clear? (Music) Our mystery drama, The Way to Dusty Death, was adapted from Sophocles Great Creek tragedy and Tigany. It was especially adapted for the mystery theater by Stella and Arnold Moss. It stars Arnold Moss and Marion Saudis. It is sponsored in part by Buick Motor Division and Sign Off, The Sinus Medicines. I'll be back shortly with Act One. (Music) The Civil War, the war between the states, has been over for more than 10 years. But in the mountainous terrain of Thieves County along the rugged Kentucky West Virginia border, there is still no peace. For years, two families, the Carpenters and the Webs, have been taking the law into their own hands in a deadly field that has robbed each side of its share of sons. It is a warm summer night. Paul Carpenter and his younger sister Isabel are stealthily making their way across the fast-running mountain book that separates their land from that of the Webs. I keep all the posters on the other side. I know it. And Amanda knows it. You two girls have got a feeling in your bones, is that it? You don't believe us? Of course I do, Isabel. Elsa, why would I be wandering over to the land that belongs to the Webs family in the dark night? Hope it to find a little cold device that's been missing since last Thursday. I believe you. I believe our sister too. Ain't awful that Amanda's wrong. What's more, I'm sure I know just how it got there. You mean the little cold somehow crossed the mountain, brutal by itself? That's an after-cost, somebody kept it. I don't put it past them. What's even to a pack of murders? If Captain Web could put a rifle bullet through our father's head with no good call. It's in hate for all our covenants. What? We're almost on the other side. Almost on their land. Keep your voice down. We are low. Can't see we are on enemy territory. Well, Amanda will be pleased by what we've done. Just watch your step. The stable, when the coat would be, is over toward that way. Stay close behind me. I'm following you, Paul. This is what Papa would have done if he was still alive. I reckon so. Over there. There's the bar. Lucky we got a moon. Oh, you get that coat in no time at all. And there will be a run for it. Over the brook at home. I can just see Captain Web's room red all face when he looks into the stable in the morning. And finally, we're in the room. We're in the room. Thanks. I've been here. Are we going to get out of here? With fans, Paul. And fans? I can't get up. Papa, I can't see. The blood is pouring in my eyes. You go away, Isabelle. You go quick, Mom. No, no, I can't leave you. You've got to, Paul. They'll get you to. Over this way, Harman's part of me. Right way, Depart. They're coming, please, go away, Isabelle. Get your way, Paul. And then, and I, we'll be back there to get you to take your time, sister. I think that they'll be lots of time. This way, boy. Over here, Harman. Who is it, Paul? Who is it? Yeah, I got one of them anyway. I haven't completed lost the skill I was known for in the war, right through the head. The other one? Got away. Wait a minute, Paul. Look who it is. I know who it is, Harman. It's a carpenter, boy. Paul, carpenter. I know. I knew it all along, son. He's dead. You killed him, Paul. He was trespassing on my land. And I was hoping that one of these days, you was hoping what? Wayne, important, Paul. What do you think you're up to, Harman? Or he ain't gonna let his body lay here on the ground, are you? Carpenter fell here on my property. He's dead. And he's gonna stay where he fell. Now, you put that body down. But Paul, I don't want to say it twice, boy. That's better. And you started to say that you was hoping something. I thought maybe all this bad blood between our two families might someday soon become into an end. Why is that? What? Well, I've got reasons. Now I'm afraid that things are going to take a turn for the worse. Let's get back into the house before your mob begins to worry. Things are going to start happening all over again. Well, then you just let him start, son. 'Cause whatever the comethers begin, you can be sure we webs will finish. You stop crying. I said stop it. No, we wasn't doing any harm. Just trying to get back, what right there was always a little brown cold. They stole from us. I don't know why I know who's of us. You know what brothers did? They killed him. Just like they killed up a heart. Was harming with the tavern when the shop was fired? I guess so. But I'm sure. I ran away so quick I couldn't swear harming with with him. But I think I had his voice. No post-it. We were foolish to do what we did. You've got to put yourself together, girl. It's wrong with you, Amanda. You've got no feelings. You're acting just as hard as stone. Listen, I mean, Isabelle. Now listen, close. Paul's dead. We cannot bring him back. I thought that harming and me, that we'd be the thing that would bring our two families together. Once and for all, wipe out the hatred that's been poisoned in both our sides since before we was ever born. You do love each other. Harming is you. Well, no one knows that. Sam, you and me and Harming. No. Not only is that not to be. But the Carpenters and the webs would go on spilling each other's blood till they ate no more to spill. Ain't we already caught their men with Paul's death? No. Not quite. In this house of ours, there's still two of us. Two girls. Two almost helpless girls. Helpless, Isabelle? I can shoot a rifle as well as any man in this county. You know that. And I'm now head of this family. The owner of this family rests in my hands. We got lots of men who are kinfolk. Men who'd stop it nothing to get back at the web for our brother Paul's death. Well, this is one matter I want to handle by myself. With your help. You think you can? I'm sure I can. Now, right now, our job is plain. At Sun Up, as soon as it gets light, we got to carry back our dead brother's body so that we can give him a respectful burial. Now we better get some rest. Oh, man, now we couldn't possibly carry Paul's body just for two hours. Well, I think I know where maybe we'll get some help. Wait. I never knew you might. Like a poor dude we don't. Then we'll do it by ourselves, Isabelle. The best we can. I'm scared Amanda. We're scared. After last night I. You walk in straight ahead toward their front door Isabelle. And hold your head up high. That's it. With supposing Captain Cain had it in his head to take a shot at it, the way he did it Paul last night in the broad daylight. Right out of the open, he hates Amanda. We're carbon-died. I know what I'm doing. He has to listen to me. Don't take another step. You don't want to you? You can put down your rifle, Captain. We mean no harm. What do you two want? I think you know. We want a brother's body. Let us take it. What is it about? You're seeing nothing. Well? We're here to get Paul's body. To take him off your land and give him a decent burial. And where would that be? Where he belongs. Six feet under carbon, the soil is at it. Yes, Captain. That's it. You are out of your mind, girl. What is that supposed to mean? I just turn around the two of you. And take yourself straight back to where you come from. But please, Captain Craig. We are not about to do that. We want our brother's body. And we are here to get it. Will your permission or without it? Your brother had no respect for private property. He'd come all to my land, we're bland, all invited. And so we can stay there. But he's got to be buried. You can't just let him lay there. Why must he be buried? You take that half and you two girls. Or your kid folk up near Sandy River. You think maybe Zell tried to snatch a dead body off in my land? Times are changing, Captain. There is such a thing as the law. And laws begin to come here, over the mountains. Through the great power of all judge-calve, and I suppose. Judge-calve, yes, and others. On my land, there is only one law. And that's a law of crane web. It's always been that way, and no one. No one is going to change it. If nothing else, I think the common decency would make. Decentcy. A carpenter talking of decency? The only decency I know is in the speed of my trigger finger. Over 50 years, it's been your kill. Or you get killed. A web burrow carpenter. We're getting pretty close to the end of the line, girl. If you're just doing smart about fists. Where you been, Harman? Inside the door. I've been hearing everything that's been said. Yeah. Take my rifle, son. Get these two carpenter's off in our land. Real quick. I'm not sure I can do that, Paul. Why not? Let the girls give their brother proper Christian burial. And put an end to all the bad blood that's wrankled out to families all these years. Why not? It's no more than you would ask if it was me laying out there. I'll tell you why not. And you two girls are better listen to. I mean for that body out there to be a woman to everyone that this land belongs to me. You come on it only if I watch you there. That corpse can just lay there and rot a power. You can't lay there and be dinner for the vultures. And if anyone you hear that, anyone is foolish enough to dare lay a finger on that body. For any reason they'll pay for it in blood. The ancient Greeks had a word for it. They called it hubris, meaning excessive pride, insolent overbearing arrogance. The one sin of man the ancient gods would not tolerate. And Captain Crane Webb is such a man. A man waited down with pride, false pride, with hubris. How will the fate steal with his stiff necked unwillingness to bend? Join me shortly in act two. We're back in the 1870s in Sieves County, somewhere along the mountainous border between Kentucky and West Virginia, where family feuding is a way of life. Crane Webb, a man who considers himself a law unto himself, has shocked and killed Paul Carpenter for trespassing on his land, and refuses to let the body be taken off his property, or to be buried. Confunted by the two young sisters of the dead man, and by his own son, Crane says, "Now, Harman, who sees to it the fees too carpenter girls get back on their own side of the brook, you or I?" We don't need any comfort, Captain Crane. We can find our own way back. I eat asking you. A girl's paw? Think the same as if they were men? A carpenter's a carpenter, son. I'll see them back myself. No, give me your gun, Carl. I'll do it. On your way, Harman. And keep them covered. I don't trust no carpenter, they're women, no more than that man. Get moving. Both of you. We are going. We ain't afraid of you, Captain Crane. And we ain't afraid of Harman either. You better hurry up, Isabelle. And keep on moving. First. Oh, stop. Oh, can we put that gun? I'll be waiting for you, son. Put down your gun, Harman. What has got into you? You just keep walking, Amanda. I'm keeping you covered to you in your own metal. We are scared of your paw, ain't ya? It shakes our finger at you and you jump like a puppy through a hoop. I'd appreciate you walking a little faster. You hear what I hear, Amanda? I know that sound. It's our little cold. It looks like it is. Time to get three over there. It's beautiful. He knows our voices. We need to get our cold, Harman. I'm not discussing, Colts. You keep going. Across the Brooklyn on your own place. Please, Amanda, I know what I'm doing. Just wait to out of my father's sight. Trust me, please. But you never belong to us. Never mind, you never belong to the town of Vienna. Harman. What are we going to do? I'm not sure. We're counting on you. I know you are. Because if, for any reason, we can't. We're far from her plus Isabella and her. I know that too. No, no, don't come over to our side. Stay where you are. I'm sure he's still watching. Why don't you just turn around and walk so fast? I have to talk to you. This is not the time. Tonight, after dark. I'll be waiting. You're sure he doesn't know where you are? I just said I was going out for a breath here. A hormone. Just listen to me. Your father has lived all these years making his own laws. In your life your mother's everybody's to how ever it pleased him. Well, no, he's not an easy man. But whether he goes along with it or not, that's all about the end. There is such a thing as right and wrong. What are you getting at, man? The law goes for everybody, including your father. And he has to know that no one, not even he, is above it. And that means the law of Thieves County. You're not thinking of bringing old Judge Calvin into this, are you? Why not? Well, the camp wouldn't pay a no mind, you know that? He just laughed at the old Judge. Well, that remains to be seen. May you just go on back home. Fast. Whatever you do, don't forget. My father is a very dangerous man. I can't tell you how sorry I was to hear about Paul. Thank you, Judge Calvin. Can I offer you a call, lemonade, Amanda? Oh, no, thank you. Real heart-day, long walk from the Carver to Place all the way here to town. No, I'm fine. What exactly was on your mind? How can an old servant of the people be of help? Judge Calvin, my father used to say that no man in the whole county, whether they agreed with you or not, could look at things as fair as you. That's a real compliment. And that everyone had respect for your honesty, for your good judgment. What are you leading up to, Amanda? I need your help with the law. What for? To do what? To get Paul's body back from Crane Webb's land. So is Isabella and I can see he gets a decent burial? As I understand it, Paul was trespassing on Webb property. The trespassing or not? The fact is Paul is dead. How he was killed and what led up to his death is not the question. What is important is he can't be left lying out there in the hot sun, unburied. The birds waiting up pick out his eyes. What is it you'd like me to do? I want my brother's body. I want you to give me the legal right to go in there and take it. Right away, a paper of some kind, with your signature on it that says that I can do it. I've known Crane Webb since he was a boy. Fifty years of war, he never learned respect for anything that he considered weak. And to him I'm weak, because I'm a girl, is that it? He'll never change. All right, then where does the law come in? That's hard to say, especially here in the mountains. I could serve a piece of legal paper on captain and he just tear it up. And then what would I do? Force him somewhere to let us take possession of our brother's body. Force Crane Webb to do anything? I know him much too well for that, Amanda. Besides, the bitter truth is that any judge, any keeper of the peace, who dares to raise a gather against me and my Crane, may do it at the risk of his own life. I see. I may not have too many years hit him even girl, but those I have are cherished. You're afraid of him, is that it? Well, I know the history of this county. Your father, now your brother, are sad, prooffully. And you won't lift a finger to change that will you? A man who's supposed to deal out justice, who claims to have been my father's friend, Judge Kelvin, you make me worry sick. You're a tired, scared old man. No, no, no, no, no, just a minute. I don't want to waste any more time with you. Now, don't make trouble, girl, there's been enough. My sister and I will find a way to do what we think is right. All those were the words I heard your father speak. It cost him his life, it won't cost me mine. I'll do what has to be done, with or without the help of what you call the law. Oh, don't bother. I know where the door is. I'll try. I'll try to make him change his mind. Reharman, you know your poor. He's willing to iron. You don't make sense, though, Ma. Well, best of him, Harman. To him, that's all it counts. Now, I beg you to stay away from Paul's dead body. Don't you so much as torch it. There's something this time I told you, Ma. What's that? Paul Carpenter was my good friend. Well, I'm glad the captain never knew. And that's not all. A man and a. We love each other. We've been hoping to get married. Married? You're competent. Yard of your mind. You're part of kill you first. If I don't help her move Paul's body onto their own land, she'll never speak to me again. Never. How could your dad disobey your father? How could I dare think of not helping the girl I love? Your father says there's no greater wrong than betraying your own flesh. You're in your own flesh and blood. Harman, my son, don't let your feeling for this girl turn you against your own kin. I beg you. What would you have me do? Try to do what you told. Even if it means choking this cop into girl out of your heart. You've got to try to do just that. I don't want to hurt no one. Not you. Not Paul. And not a man. It's your choice, Harman. But whatever you decide, remember, I couldn't bear to lose another son. Try once more, Isabella. Come on, there, Paul. We've made. Together. I'm doing the best I can to matter. Oh, Paul is so heavy. We can barely but him. I keep trying. We'll never get him out of here. Oh, what ever happened to Harman. Why didn't he come to help? I have no ideas about him. I am not waiting for him. Paul and Judd Kelvin either. Anyone? Paul is one thing we can do. We can do this for two of us. What's that? Like a dig of shallow graze. Right here. And then we'll throw some earth of a poor dead body. Oh, man. No, that way we'll be used to try to give him something like a decent burial. Come on, hand me the shovel. Here. Hold it, lad, a little higher. Oh, man. Oh, hopefully it looks. I'll be a beautiful Paul. You're gonna go home if you want to. I can handle this alone. You need it. I need it. Don't move. A man to darling is a bear. Give me the shovel. Thank you, Harmon. What did we do after that? Of course that next bridge when we come to it. A little bit for Harmon. All right then. Now that'll be fine. The magenta will move over here. All right now. I can remember the words, Betsy. A sprinkler. And full of earth over him. Then I say, Earth to Earth. Ash is to ashes. Dust. To dust. In short, I'm certain hope of the Resurrection. Oh, man. Oh, man. And may he rest in peace. What's going on out there? Answer me, somebody. It's my Paul. Look what that evidence is about. Look, still. Don't move either of you. No. You two go. I'll take care of my father best I can. I'll be care for Harmon. Go. Just go. I love you, Harmon. And I love you. Now, run. Is that you, Paul? Well, shouldn't be. What are you doing out here this time of night? Well, I was too hot to sleep. What are you trying to hide? What do you got there behind your back? Nothing. What is it? It's just a shovel. Let me have it, Harmon. Oh, your mother's well known now, Paul. Paul's body has been buried. Bahu. The girls. In me. you The ritual of burying has been done. The earth is scattered on Paul's flesh. The prayer has been said. And you, my son, you have a hand in this. Yes, I did. You call yourself my son, Paul. Yeah, hit me. You brought shame to the name of Weber. I did with any decent human word. You just scrape off the earth that sits on that dead body. Right now, it stays unburied. I can't do that, Paul. You'll do what you are told. I can. I just can't. What's that supposed to mean? It means I can't. It means I won't. Crane webbed thinks of himself as a man with a will of steel, which cannot must not be denied. But as the poet John Milton wrote, "What is strength without a double share of wisdom? Best. I'm really burdensome, proudly secure, yet liable to fall by weakest subtleties." Crane webbed continues to stand up against the resistance he is meeting from all sides, even from his own son. I shall return shortly with Act 3. A vendetta we are told is the right or obligation a person assumes to be his. In retaliation for a wrong, often a murder, he thinks has been done to a member of his family or group. Vendetta's go back to the most primitive times, and even find their place in great literature. In Hamlet, for example, where the young prince seeks vengeance for his father's murder. In our story, it's the feud between the webs and the carpenters. Captain Crane webbed speaks to his son, Harmon, who he thinks has betrayed him. Harmon, you brought shame to the name of a web. I only did with any decent human words. Scrape off the earth that sits on that dead body. I can't, Paul. And I won't. You won't? No, Paul. I won't. I reckon you thought you were too big, maybe too old to be whipped. Don't try to get, Paul. I warn you. Let me tell you something, boy. A man praise he may forget a household full of beautiful sons, who share with him the polish and the venomous, the honour and of his father's friend. I won't listen to this. Oh, yes, you will, boy. A man who breeds a young one that won't stand by him. There's done nothing but so trouble for himself. His enemies laugh at him. Why, when I was your age. Oh, not again, Paul. Please. I had respect for my poor, the greatest respect. Maybe he earned it. Harmon, maybe you just better go into the house and help your mother. Rose Anne's doing some men, didn't. Maybe you can help her thread the needles. But first give me that shovel. Hand it to me, I said. Give me that shovel. Pick up that shovel. Pick it up yourself, Paul. I'm going to bed. Very well. I'll uncover the corpse myself. Oh, Craig, go easy on the boy. Harmon is so young. I won't be disobeyed, Rose Anne. Not my own house. He means no one, no harm. Disobedience to authority is what ruins a country. Tears down our hooves. This is your own son, Craig. All the more reason. Another thing. I will not let myself be beaten by a girl. Any girl. If a way I'll live as to be threatened, let it be by a man, not by some girl. You're sick. You're sick with hate. I will not listen to this. You don't really know why I hate. And it's your hate and it'll destroy all of us in the end. You should be sharing that hatred with me. I cannot share in hatred, but in love. Good night, Rose. One last thing. Harmon's my only son. Your only son. And there are more carpenter than just them two girls. If anything happens to those girls, it'll be the end of Harmon too. Nothing will happen to Harmon. I'll see to it. How can you be so sure? I've done all I can, Amanda. My father's like a rock that no amount of pride can move out of the earth. And if the rock goes on, rough you isn't to be moved. Well, and you and I'll have to find our way around it. Well, we can't depend on old Judge Calvin. My trip to him was just a waste of time. Maybe if I would go and talk to him. No, Harmon, I don't want you getting in any deeper than this. And you're really all ready. There's just no telling what your father might do. I wouldn't care. Well, I do. For your sake. And for ours. Let me kiss your man. No, Harmon. Go. Right at this moment. I don't feel at home either with you, to live in. Or with Paul. The bed. Forgive me, Harmon. I need to be alone there. There's things I gotta figure out where no one can help me. Can we offer you something to drink, Judge Calvin? No, no thing, you're cream. I apologize for truffin' in here on your behalf to dark. Perfectly all right. A rose hand turned up the lamp a bit. And then leave the judge and me together. Yes, great. Well then. Do what do I owe the honor of your visit, Judge Calvin? Your next tour neighbor, Amanda Carpenter, paid me a call. How very friendly of her. And her request, I have here an order of the court. For what, if I might ask? I don't want you to take a fence-creen. It's to allow removal of her brother Paul's dead body off your property. So he can receive a proper burial. That's it. It's just about. Put it over on the table there, won't you, Judge? Glad to. You will respect this order. I hope it's a law. And if I don't? It'd be easier for all of us if you did, Crane. Well, I'll look it over, maybe tomorrow morning. If I can spare the time, I'm a very busy man, too, you know. It's a law cap. So you said. You know something, Judge? On second thought, I will take that piece of paper. You're a reasonable man, Crane. I knew I could count on you. Hey, what are you doing? As you court order, your honor. And now I would appreciate you getting out of my house just as fast as your old ligs will count you. You can't defy the law forever, Crane. I can't. Who says I can't? Good night, Crane. Oh, wait just one minute, Judge. There's someone sneaking around down there near the stable. What do you do with that rifle? Please let me get by your honor. Are you out of your mind? Don't you worry, I'll take care of everything. Crane, put down that rifle. I'll take care of them, good. Once and for all. Got to be very quiet, a man. I know. Judge Calvin's up there talking with him and with my mom. Got to be quiet and quick. Oh, your wonderful honor, do you want this? No, let's talk. I'll just try to hide Paul's body over my shoulder and carry him to the stream. In no time at all, he'll be back where you want him. Oh, he is heavy. Can I do anything? When I grab him here, you get your hands under his head. That'll help. I love you, Sue. And I love you. What happened? What was that? I've been shot here in the medical. My poor darling, I'm. Be careful. Your father is shooting from the house. That's the last shot he'll ever fire on this earth. What are you doing? Paying back my father. This time, he's more than asked for. Put down your gun. I'll come and it'll do no good. We'll see. I want you to die, Paul. I want you dead. That's one of them. Can't say they didn't get fair water. Crane, you'll hang for this. Maybe. Maybe not. You. Well, what do you know? There shouldn't be a catcher. Not bad, Amy. Everyone nearly got it. Oh, you're just going to have to stop this foolishness. Like this. Crane, do you realize what you're doing? I think I do those of them come. I'm glad to see you both. And I reckon I've got them both. Judge Calvin, Roseanne, come on down with me and take a look at the prize. Bring your Latin more over this way, Roseanne. It's great. I'll go a little ahead. Lattenway. I hope you know what you're doing. You are about to see Judge Calvin what I call justice. I'm afraid so. And watch out for that big rough, Judge. No! No! It gets cut, me! What is it, Roseanne? I'm not only killing my bandit. All this bloodshed. What are you talking about? There's your prize. Take a good look. It's a cop and a girl, the only one. Amanda, she's dead, crained by your hand. And Harman, your son, Harman, he's dead too. And he's holding her in his arms. You killed your own son, murder us. You stubborn, self-righteous murder us! Easy, Roseanne, easy. No idea. I thought that Harman was. You never thought that was. You never had a decent sword in your head. Why were they here together? His arms are round her. Let the mess you didn't know. They loved each other. They were going to get married. It was their hope that all these years of feud might be ended by their marriage. You must try to control yourself, Roseanne. You can be real funny, yourself great. The great Captain Webmaker of Corpson. What? I ask you to forgive me if you can. I'm a killer. I look on the sun I killed. I look on his bride that you'll never be. They both have died too soon. And by my hand, curse it be the hand that did this. Curse it be the day that if I was born. Why don't you both go back into the house? I'll ride my horse to town and see that what must be done will be done. I just can't stay here. My son. My son. Let me take my son up in my arms. How about that? I didn't mean what I did. I loved you harbing my son. And now you are no more. No will ever breathe again. You are dead. Come down and strike me. Kill me with your tongue sore. Easy, Crain. I am soaked to the border with grief and sorrow. Let my death come quick, bring in my final day. Oh, let me never see tomorrow sunrise. We better see where Roseanne is gone too. She shouldn't be alone. Maybe you better go to her and comfort her. I don't think she can bear the sight of me. Come Crain. Crain, where are you? Yeah, right here. Who is that? This maid is a bitch. Get the bell carbon. The Amanda's sister what happened? Your sister's dead. Oh no. And so is Han. Both killed by the same hands. I came to look for the thing with God so long. And on my way back to your body getting greater. Yes, what is she to you about? I saw Mrs. Crain in the body. The door was open. I saw. Yes. She was hit swinging for one of the rafts. A thick rope around the neck. Two widths. Two carbon dirt. Both sides lost his affair. And nobody won. Nobody. Our happiness depends on wisdom all the way. The gods must have their due. Great words by men of pride bring greater blows upon them. So wisdom comes to the old. With those words suffocates ends his tragedy of antigeny. I'll be back shortly. The antigeny of Sophocles has been updated many times. In many places since its premiere nearly 2400 years ago in ancient Athens, a contemporary French playwright for example presents antigeny as a doomed young woman without hope. And Crayon, her antagonist, as a wily political figure. Both of them very French. We trust you've accepted demand a carpenter antigeny and Captain Crain Webb Crayon as suitable American counterparts. Our cast included honored most Marion Saudis, Edie Juster, Don Scardino and Gilbert Mack. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown. And now a preview of our next tale. She ran out into the moor without a cloak. The teeth clipped hoars was not in the stable and no one knew where he had gone. Catheryn returned after midnight and the midst of a thunderstorm soaked to the skin and coming down with a severe cue. This Catheryn, he must let me help you to bed. He's gone, never he's gone. And my nightmares are coming true. If you feel better when you've had some sleep, I'll never sleep again. I've been abandoned. Oh, it's just like my dreams. I saw myself tapping on the window begging. Let me in, let me in. Oh, hush, chock. And no one answered. And my hand broke through the glass of the blood was running down my arm. Oh, get the blood stains off, now we can't get the blood stains off! Radio mystery theater was sponsored in part by Sinoff, the Sinus medicines and Buick Motor Division. Mrs. E. G. Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre. Until next time, pleasant. [Music] Mr. Keane Tracer of Lost Persons is on the air. Mr. Keane Tracer of Lost Persons, one of the most famous characters of American fiction, is now presented in one of radio's most thrilling dramas. Tonight, Mr. Keane begins the case of the young husband who thought his wife failed him. [Music] If you want a wonderfully easy way to remove ordinary surfacedane from your teeth, to reveal the natural color hidden underneath, please listen carefully. Thousands today have discovered two simple steps that bring results amazingly fast. First, brush your teeth as your own dentist advises. That is, hop or down from the gum line to the biting edge. Second, use Colino's toothpaste. The dentist used on a dry brush instead of a wet one. That acts on these ugly surfacedanes like a jewelers polish axon tarnis silver. You can see the thrilling results after just a few brushes. So try this way. Proper brushing plus Colino's toothpaste if you want your teeth to look their best. Colino's KOLY and OS is on sale at old rug stores. Try it now. And now for Mr. Keane. Last time, Mr. Keane went in search of Anthony Boller, a once brilliant concert pianist two-ten years ago, when his wife died during a concert, gave up his career and dropped completely out of sight. The tracer found him, applying his father's trade of carpenter in a small midwestern town, and gave him a new outlook on life, which assured his return to music and his future happiness for the nice girl who loved him. Now it's several weeks later, and a client has just left the tracers private office by the door leading directives to the corridor. Mr. Keane rings for his Spencer secretary, Miss Ellis. Yes, Mr. Keane. Oh, Miss Ellis. Mrs. Loroi just left. And here's her checkmate out at Keane Company for finding her long-law's sister. I've endorsed it, and you can send it to the Sunnifield orphanage. Yes, sir. Your next appointment's waiting. That Mr. Donald Craigie from the insurance company. Very well. He can come in now. All right. Hello. Susie. Mr. Keane will see Mr. Craigie. Now, now look, Mr. Keane. Before he gets into your office, I just want to warn you. He says he has a case for you, but I know insurance men. And once he's in here, he'll try to send you a million dollar policy, so you just be firm. I hardly imagine the interview will go like that, Miss Ellis. Well, you see. I'm already insured with Mr. Craigie's company, and he knows it. That's how he happened to hear about me. So, let's take him on the faith. At least until we get acquainted with him, shall we? Well, all right, but there he is. I hear him outside. I'll get him. Mr. Craigie. Yes? Right this way, please. Oh, thanks. Lovely day, isn't it? Yes, yes it is. Makes me feel as if I'm going to live an excellent health for a long time. Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Keane. Thanks for letting me come. Now, don't, Mr. Craigie. Sit down and tell me what's troubling you. I'll be glad to. What was that crack your secretary made about living a long time? Perhaps she thought you were trying to sell her insurance when you spoke to her pleasantly. Well, I always speak pleasantly to people, but I'm not here to sell insurance, Mr. Keane. As I wrote you and I asked for this appointment, I'm in great need of finding somebody who went away six months ago. And who is that? My wife. I see. She left you, Mr. Craigie? She walked out on me back in baggage. And you want her back? No, I'm afraid that's all washed up. But she hasn't filed a suit for divorce. And I want her located so that I can ask her to divorce me. That means you'd like to marry someone else? Yes, I would. It sounds pretty heartless to sit here and say it, Mr. Keane. But it's not really. She-lo could have had me for life as she'd wanted to. Why did she leave you then? Because I've made a success. And there are some women who can't stand their husband's successes. Can't keep up with them. Do you understand that? I often heard of such cases, Mr. Craigie, but. I won't say that she-lo wasn't wonderful in the old days. She was, and I loved her for it. But as I got on, she changed. Generally, in cases like this, it's the man who changes. He moves in an ever-widening circle of acquaintances. His outlook broadens. Her's remains the same. But that's exactly what happened to us, Mr. Keane. Yes. And then the husband begins to feel that he's far ahead of his wife. I did feel that. I couldn't help it. But I never told her so. But you fell in love with another woman. A woman with a kind of background, you've now achieved for yourself. A woman better suited to fit into your present mode of life? No. Not till after Sheila left me. I knew Rosalyn before that. Sheila knew her too. But Rosalyn Prescott was no more than a friend. Until my wife walked out of me and I was sunk. I see. Rosalyn has a good time. She's beautiful and gay and popular. She's been awfully nice to me since Sheila left me. Rosalyn Prescott. She writes magazine stories, doesn't she? Yes, Mr. Keane. She's very good at it. She's wonderful. And she's willing to marry me if I can just find Sheila and get this divorce business over with. And you have no idea where your wife is? None. I know she didn't go back to the little town we both come from, but because my parents still live there and they write me that no one in town has seen her or heard from her. What about your wife's parents? They died when Sheila was a child. Neighbors took her in and brought her up. She has no relatives of her own anywhere. Hmm. That makes it difficult. What about friends? There must be someone who knows where she is. I doubt it. Her friends back home keep asking my folks if there's any news of her. And there's a young married woman here in New York, Mr. Keane. A girl from our town too. Dorothy Becroft. Mrs. Ted Becroft, who went to school with Sheila. But I wrote Dorothy and she wrote back saying she had no idea where Sheila was. You wrote her, Mr. Craigie? Someone here in New York? Why didn't you go to see her? She's no friend of mine. I'm afraid. And from her own point of view, of course, she's justified. I see that. But well, you'd have to hear my whole story to understand. I want to hear your whole story. Suppose you tell it to me now from the beginning. All right, Mr. Keane. The place I come from is very small, but it rates as a city. My father's been mayor for years. We were never wealthy, but we were nice good family. I went to school in town, public school. There wasn't any other. Was it in school you met the girl you later married, Mr. Craigie? I knew her in a vague way, but not well. After I left school, I got to know her better. You see, Mr. Keane, I always found it easy to sell things to people. Even when I was a boy, it was just the same in college. And when I graduated, I went back home and got a job because of it. Selling insurance? Yes, in the local agency. That's where I really met Sheila. She was through school by then and was working as a secretary for Mr. Phillips. Your new boss, eh? Yes. He was nice, but with no ambition at all. He used to sit around the office and wait for policies to fall into his lap. I went out and sold policies, lots of them. The business grew so, Mr. Keane, that it came to the attention of one of the big insurance companies, Mr. Phillips represented. They sent for me. I see. And that's how you came to New York and your present job. Did you marry before you came? Yes. She learned I were in love by then. And she'd always been such a help. I thought she always would be. How could I know she was just a small town girl with small town ideas that were never going to change? I had ideas about what, Mr. Craigie. Oh, you know, working hard and saving for a rainy day. She never could see that in New York that's no way to get ahead. Isn't it? Of course not. You get ahead by making contacts, Mr. Keane. Important friends who introduce you to people with money to invest. And you can't make that sort of friends unless you've seen their own kind and live the same way they do. I see. So you began to practice that. I had to. And it worked. I started on a small salary and small commissions. Now I'm making big ones. She then I started, I married life in a little flat. Now I live in a penthouse. And I have a place in Connecticut for summer weekends. It sounds tremendously pleasant, Mr. Craigie. Why did your wife object because she wanted to live in two rooms and do her own housework and have a baby and take care of it herself? That typical life of a small town girl. She wanted a savings bank account for the baby's future. She couldn't see that the money I spent getting ahead was a better investment for the baby's future than a few dollars set aside each week. So there isn't any savings account and there isn't any baby. No. She the one of the wrong kind of friends too. Friends like Dorothy Beacroft, narrow and stupid and unattractive. I had an awful time making her see that. Just because you go to school with a girl you don't have to keep up the friendship afterwards. So that's why young Mrs. Beacroft doesn't like you, Mr. Craigie. Yes, I'm afraid so, Mr. Keene. And I'm sorry in a way. I don't want to have enemies, even frightfully unimportant ones. But we couldn't have people like that underfoot. They didn't speak our language. I see. So you finally persuaded your wife to drop them. But after she left you you thought she might have been in touch with them? It occurred to me so I wrote as I told you but they hadn't heard from her. Apparently no one has. So it's up to you to find her, Mr. Keene. And you will, won't you? I'll do what I can, Mr. Craigie. What's your wife's maiden name? Lord. She the Lord. And here is a photograph of her. She's pretty. Yes. She's very beautiful. All right. Thank you. I'll begin to investigate it once. I might, by the way, have to cover some of the same ground you covered. So you better tell me the name of your hometown. A Aberdeen Vermont. But you'll just be wasting your time if you go there. I think so too. But I never start a case without all the facts available. What's the address of the Beacrofts here in New York? I'm sorry, I don't remember. But it's in the telephone book. His name's Theodore, very well. I won't keep you any longer now, Mr. Craigie. But I'll let you hear from me about my progress. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I know you're wonderful. If anyone can find her, you can. And do try, Mr. Keene. I want my freedom. Goodbye. Goodbye. Oh, Miss Ellis, will you come in now, please? Mr. Ellis, Mr. Keene. Goodbye, Mr. Craigie. Goodbye, Miss Ellis. I still think it's a lovely day. Where? Where's that old. Mr. Keene, was I right about him? Did he come here under false colors? Under false colors? No, Miss Ellis, not exactly. He wasn't selling insurance and he was perfectly sincere and everything he told me. He wants me to find his wife who left him six months ago without provocation. He honestly believes it was without provocation. He wants a divorce from her and he thinks he is justified in getting one. But, of course, She refused to keep step with him as he rose in the world. Eh, perhaps he's right. But somehow I'd like to hear her side of the story too. Yes. For it may be quite different from his. So let's start looking for her. Will you get me the address of a Theodore Beekraft from the telephone book? [MUSIC PLAYING] Why does Mr. Keane want The Beekraft's address? As he believed they were lying to Donald Treggie, where is Sheila Treggie? Listen, next Tuesday at this same time, as the tracer goes a long way toward the solution of the prophetic case of the young husband who thought his wife failed him. [MUSIC PLAYING] No matter how much confidence you may have in your present case, if you don't know all about it, see your own dentist without delay. Ask him to recommend the dentist he knows is pure, effective, and most important, safe to give your family. Chances are, he'll suggest Coli-nose toothpaste. For Coli-nose has been awarded the Seal of Acceptance of the American Dental Association's Council on Dental therapeutics, an unbiased scientific body representing over 43,000 practicing dentists. Your own dentist will tell you this Seal of Acceptance is the highest, the most important honor any dentists can have. It means that Coli-nose has been tested for polishing power, for purity, and for safety, and that on the basis of actual evidence has been awarded this prize Seal of Acceptance. Now, there's a sound reason for this success. You see, Coli-nose is the formula of a famous specialist who developed in Coli-nose what he considered the perfect dentist, the kind he would want his own patients to use. So it was only natural that Coli-nose should gain the recognition of other practicing dentists. So remember this fact the next time you buy and ask for Coli-nose recognized by many dentists as a pure, effective, and safe dentist for you and your family to use. Remember the name? Coli-nose spelled K-O-L-Y-N-O-S. Get it to you at your drugst tonight. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] Mr. Keane, tracer of lost persons will be on the air next Tuesday at this same time. This is James Fleming speaking. [MUSIC PLAYING] Murder at midnight. Quentin, look. Have a window torn out of its frame. No, they're on the floor. Sylvia. Good. I couldn't love her. Her head twisted almost off. Her body looks as if every bone in it was broken. [MUSIC PLAYING] Midnight, the witching hour, when the night is dark, asleep our fears the strongest and our strength that it's lowest end. Midnight, when the graves gave open and death strikes. How? You'll learn the answer in just a moment in death's worshiper. [MUSIC PLAYING] And now, murdered at midnight, tales of mystery and terror by radio's masters of the macabre. Our story by J. Williams is a tale of fear from afar called Death's Worshiper. On the surface, it's a New York apartment like thousands of others in a house with a brown stone front on a dark little street. But to Kate Bonnie, living here with her brother Peter, it has become a prison cell, a place of menace, a house of terror. I can't explain, Peter. This is all I record in a spider's web, waiting helplessly while the spider comes closer. But Kate, you still haven't told me just exactly what's troubling you? It's real, Peter. It's a feeling that, well, like in a nightmare, when you know something awful is after you and you can't escape, it's trying closer. It's coming here to this room to find me. Who would like to, Peter? What would you like to do? Please, Kate, pull yourself together. You've got to. I'm sorry, Peter. I'll try. That's better. Now then, let's have it. I can't come home every night to a sister who's afraid of the dark. What's it all about? Do you remember the weekend I spent at Quittance Place in the country? Just after he got back from India, yes, of course. You couldn't make it, and I went alone. The conference in Chicago, I remember. Reminds me, I wonder why I haven't heard from him since. Those letters he wrote about some discoveries he made. Discoveries. Don't mention them. Why not? Because I have an idea that they're behind everything that happened. What do you mean? He didn't even mention the expedition until I've to dinner that first night. There were just a three others, Quentin, Sylvia, and myself. He went into quite a bit of detail, describing his reasons for going. The long trip through the jungle. He finally came to a little gond village and tackled what I was sure was the last belt of jungle. That last stretch took us six hours. At last, we broke out into a clearing, and there it was, towering above us, the temple of Shiva, the destroyer. Oh, that must have been a thrilling moment. Trilly? You can't possibly know what that meant to me. I was just frightened. Sylvia frightens rather easily. That's not true, Quentin. It's just that this hit looked like some kind of crouching beast with a single devil's horn. Rubbish. It was breathtaking, Kate. Imagine a great square block of stone set in a riot of jungle foliage. Out of it rises a tremendous three-cornered spire fully a hundred feet high. Well, that must have been magnificent. Yes, and the whole thing covered with a lace tracery of stone carvings. And this is what you would set out to find. This was it. You see, the Hindu tremorty or Trinity is composed of three deities-- Rama, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Shiva, the destroyer. In this tiny district in the hills, there had once been a local cult, which worshiped only the destroyer in a curious and perverted way. Well, the worshipers became their god. I don't understand. When they prayed to Shiva, the god himself entered and took possession of them. With a worse Shiva, with all the powers and all the frightful energy of the god. Good heavens. And no, not a very good heaven. For you see, the heaven of these worshipers was nothingness. Nothingness? Yes. For them, the ultimate goal of man was destruction, the merging of oneself into a kind of cosmic non-existence. Now you can understand how I felt, Kate, when I first looked at that temple. Yes. I suppose that-- I see even a greater mind than your silver might well shrink before the majesty of a concept like that. I know I would have been frightened too. But India is a place where just such a concept would originate. Life means nothing there. Death flourishes in 1,000 forms. I climbed the spiral of the temple and looked down over the sea of jungle to the brown river in the distance and the thread of smoke that marked the village. I was a midget, an ant crawling over the surface of a giant's house. Shiva is the giant. And humanity? We're so insignificant, so worthless. I wonder if they weren't right after all those worshipers of the destroyer. Quentin. Perhaps death, nothingness, is the greatest goal. Stop it, Quentin. Stop it. Stop it. Do you hear? Sylvia. Oh, don't worry, Kate, and don't bother. But I don't-- I'm all right. No. Sorry, Kate. I think I'd better go to bed. Yes, you're tired, Sylvia. I am tired of these wild ideas of yours. Of all this talk about Shiva, destruction. I wish you'd get those thoughts out of your head, Quentin. You hadn't been the same, Manson. Good night, Sylvia. Sylvia, are you sure you're all right now? Yes. Yes, Kate. I'm fine. She wasn't fine, Peter. And it wasn't just the teav that was bothering her. She was frightened, I could see that, frightened out of her whits by something. And Quentin was different. When Sylvia had left, as he sat looking at me silently for a long while. And when at last he spoke, it was on another note. You know, Kate. All this talk of nothingness and death makes me believe more firmly than ever that man was trying for happiness while he's alive. I agree. At least it's a pleasant subject and what we've just been talking about. I'm glad you think so. Because I'm not happy now, Kate. But I thought you and Sylvia. Sylvia. There's nothing between us. Nothing. Hasn't been for years. But I. No, not even when we first got married. But you. When I first met you with your brother Peter years ago, something. Something happened to me. My heart sang. It was as though I had burst out my shell. I knew then. Quentin, you don't know what you're saying. I do. For the first time in years I know exactly what I'm saying. I found a philosophy I can believe in, Kate, in a troubled world. And for the first time I found strength to tell you that I love you. Quentin, please. Case-listen. Don't be alarmed. It would be so easy to go away together. Anything is possible for me now. Anything. We will go away. It doesn't matter where. No. We'll find a new life together. The power I know can be yours too. I love you, Kate. We can make a new world for ourselves. We can be the gods of that world. Quentin, stop. I see. I didn't really expect you to say yes immediately. It is quite the decision. But perhaps I can get you to change your mind. Quentin, you mustn't think. You're right. I mustn't think. I must act. [MUSIC PLAYING] I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep after that. I didn't even try. I went out for a walk. And when I got back about a half hour later, there was a light in the studio at the far end of the garden. I was curious enough to walk over, looking the window. The room within was hung with oriental tapestries, with odd crooked eastern swords. Quentin sat alone staring at a figure on the table before him. I could hear him through the window. His face was set. Wooden expressionless, but his eyes seemed to shine in the candlelight like a cat's. And the figure before him, it was horrible. It was a bronze statuette with a serene, but awful smile on his face, a smile of hellish triumph. A dozen arms sprang from each shoulder. It bore a club with a skull at its tip, and it seemed to dance upon the back of a crouching to warmth, and Quentin staring at it, was speaking to it. [MUSIC - "PROCHE, NOT THE RISE OF THE GANSH"] I don't-- I-- I don't know what a mirror. I only knew that it was awful. But in some dreadful way, Quentin was trying to make his beliefs come alive. I ran up the lawn, and the clouds spread over the moon seemed like dark shapes rising from sun and moon of pitch. I-- oh, I-- wings seemed to be about the house as the wind rose. In my ears, rank Quentin's chatting, even in my room I could hear it. The ningo was the morning of the wind. The moon had disappeared. I couldn't see the light in the studio. I was too far to hear it, but the chatting went on. I-- I don't know. [GROANS] And I was thinking of voices in the wind. Many voices chatting with Quentin, thunder growled up in the darkness. Then it was a single flash of lightning, and a clapp of thunder, and on the heels of the thunder. [GROANS] [GROANS] Oh, Sylvia! Sylvia! Sylvia, I'm all right. Sylvia, what's the matter? Sylvia! Kate! Sylvia, what was that? Where are you, Quentin? Here. I was down in the garden. Did you hear? Yes, it sounded like it came from Sylvia's room. This way, quick. She must have been having a nightmare or something. [GROANS] Quentin. Quentin, look! The window turned right out of its frame. No. So there, on the floor, Sylvia. Good-- good Lord. Is she? Let's see. Good, good heavens. Her head twisted all around until, in her body, it looks as if almost every bone in it is broken. Staring at the broken body, which is going to flung against the wall with unimaginable force lying there like a shattered doll. Kate sways weekly in horror. Is this the work of some demon called up by Quentin's incantation? Or is it something else? Then, as a clock strikes, somewhere in the silent house, she is certain of at least one thing in a reeling world that she is in the presence of. Murder at midnight. And now back to murder at midnight, and death's worshipper. Pale and shaking, Kate Bonnie continues telling her story to her brother. It was those something with superhuman strength that twisted her head around, and then just tossed her aside against the wall. Every bone in her body was broken. It must have been pretty ghastly, but surely you're not going to let their memory of that. It has nothing to do with memory. Something that's more than human, I don't know what, Jill Sylvia. And now it's after me. After you. I haven't you seen the papers in the last few days. No, you know I've been up to my neck and work. What's that got to do with it? Look here. These clippings I've been saving them. Let's see. Another unsolved murder. Police admit bafflin. No more to you. Well? Go on. Read the rest of it. Middle-aged man, identified as JD Brathwaite Broker. Neck was wrong, apparently, by someone with tremendous physical strength. Yes, and this one. An unidentified woman. Neck, wrong, and the body thrown against the wall. And this, and this, and this. All the same. Head dialing. This is all perfectly ridiculous. No. No, look. Here's a map of our neighborhood. The first death took place up here. The next two blocks further south. Don't you see one after the other? They're coming closer to this house. To me. Kate. Now listen, it's quite clear what's happened. You were upset by Sylvia's death, naturally. Just because of the coincidence of these crimes, you have an obsession that someone or something is haunting you. You've been working too hard. And I suppose you've been having nightmares too. They're not nightmares. I'm going to run across the street to Dr. Sanford. No, Kate. You lie down and try to rest. I'll bring Sanford over and have him take a look at you. You're all run down. No, Kate, I don't leave me. You don't know what-- Pour yourself a drink, Katie. I won't be a minute. [MUSIC PLAYING] What was that? Peter. Is that you? Peter answered me. Who is it? Queen. Hello, Kate. How are you? Don't come any closer. I'll call Peter. Why, Kate? What's the matter? I suspected then when it happened. And now these last few days I know. Sylvia, you did it. You killed her, couldn't. I don't know how, but you did. You mistaken, Kate. It wasn't I. I was only the instrument of something greater stronger than men. Queen. What do you mean? Don't be afraid. He's really benign. Hey, Shiva. Shiva, the destroyer. It is his love for mankind that allows him to bring the blessing of annihilation. Oh, no. I worshipped him and he came. He came in a rush of wind on the thunder and took possession of me. I was Shiva using my body. He climbed the wall, burst the window. And he killed Sylvia. Oh, no, no. Yes, Kate. I became Shiva. At least I must have. I don't remember it clearly, but there were great wings, lightnings. When I came to myself, I was seated in my studio again. And those others? You know about them. Yes, I killed others. I don't remember how many. But all life will end in nothing. This man's highest goal is to dissolve into dust. I was conferring on them the highest possible blessing obliteration. And then your man, your discovery, high discovery, has made me a god. Well, now he's starting to come to me now without the incantation, without my willing. Sometimes at night, I feel the great wind of his coming. I turn the ice as the god approaches to seize upon me and-- Kate, I'm afraid. But why did you come here? What do you want of me? I need you, Kate. I'm afraid. That's the truth. I'm afraid of the blackness of the nothingness of the inevitable end of all things. And I'm alone. I feel the horror of it of the darkness. You can save me, Kate. You're the only one who can help me. See you. There's nothing to be done. You don't know what you're saying. Come in, doctor. Oh, Quentin. Hello. I was just-- Stay where you are. A gun? No, look, Quentin. I warn you don't come any closer. Stay and still, Peter. Kate, for the last time, will you come? Quentin, please, please listen to reason. Put that gun down. Quentin, easy, Peter. I wouldn't mind killing you, Peter. But if you wish to live, stay where you are. And don't follow me. [GUNSHOTS] Has he gone mad or what? Hey, what happened? Hi. I'm not sure. He killed Sylvia. He admitted it. And he's killed-- I don't know how many others. What? It's true. He believes that she, the destroyer, controls him. He believes that when he kills, he's graining a blessing to the one he destroys. But that-- That's crazy. No, not so crazy, Peter. May I say something? Of course, Doctor. I thought there was something wrong with him, the minute I saw him. His eyes, I-- I think it's a case of self hypnosis, something like the morose practice when they run a muck. They believe that they're possessed by God. And while in the state, they can actually perform amazing feats of strength and endurance. A number of primitive peoples have the same belief, dervishes, Indian fuckers. Your friend must induce this state by an incontoration of some kind, or by concentrating on some object until the hypnotic state is induced. That's true. I heard him. I saw him, praying to the image of Shiva. That's how he must do it. If it is true, he's extremely dangerous. We'd better get the police. May I use the phone? Wait, wait, I can't believe it. He certainly wasn't joking about that gun, Peter. And according to your sister, he's already killed several times. I-- No. No, he mustn't do that. Peter's right. We're his friends. And he loves me. He said I was the only one who could help him. He really is afraid and alone. Of course, Kate. Dr. Quentin and I were kids together. If he's in trouble, we've got to do something to help him. Not call the police down on him. Where do you think he's gone? I'm sure he's gone back to his house in the country. We can try there anyway. My car is just around the corner. I think we're taking an awful chance, but done the other-- It's a chance we've got to take, Dr. He told me that Shiva comes to him now without incantation. I'm terribly afraid of him and of what might happen. But I'm more afraid of what he may do now to himself or to someone else. [MUSIC PLAYING] We turn right here below the toll gate. That dirt road? Yes. Look, isn't that a tear light up ahead? Another car. It may be here. Hmm, the storm coming up. If it'll just hold off for a while. A storm? Just like that first. Here, the other car is turning off. That's the driveway to Quentin's house. Step on it. [MUSIC PLAYING] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] The house is dark. Perhaps we were wrong. No. I know where he is. This way around to the back. [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] There's a light. That's the studio. Why? Let's have a look first. Well, he's there alone sitting behind the table with some sort of statue in front of him. The statue of Shiva. The door's open. Come on. [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] Quentin, what are you doing? The incantation. He's calling up that demon. Quentin, stop. [DOOR OPENS] Quentin, it's Quentin. Don't you hear me? Stop it, please. Please, Quentin. Quentin. Quentin. Quentin. There's that. That, uh, that, uh, your, uh, approach. He's in a prince. No, no, don't touch him. This is the slightest thing now. My turn him into a raging maniac. But your sister try. Quentin, you must stop. This awful thing, it isn't you anymore. It's not what you want. You said you loved him. If that's true, you must shake this madness off. Kate, calling me, I can't. He's too strong for me. Try, Quentin. Try! You can't do this. Come, Quentin. If you really love me, fight it. Fight it. I can't. He's coming. Coming. Can't you hear them? Get away, Kate. Before he comes. Only one thing left. One thing I can possibly. I. The statue. Smash it and don't move, Peter. [SCREAMS] What? What was it? Huh. I can't see. That flash. Lightning. It must have struck. Quentin. Quentin. Let me locate. He's dead. Lightning will kill him immediately. Dr. Sanford. What's that on his forehead? Burn. Lightning does curious things. Yes, but there. The head of the statue he smashed. The same mark on its brow. Like an eye. A third eye. The mark of Shiva. [SCREAMS] The vengeance of a thorn had gone. Or coincidence. Kate and her brother look at each other. And then again at the contorted face with that inexplicable burn, etched like the mark of keen upon its forehead. And in the distance from some far-off staple, a clock begins to chime the hour. Twelve strokes for murder and midnight. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] Remember to be with us again when death hovers on dark bat wings and the clock strike twelve for murder. At midnight. The part of Kate was played by best Johnson and Carl Emory was quitten. With music by Charles Paul, murder at midnight was directed by Anton Em leader. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] Speaking from London. [MUSIC PLAYING] The Black Museum. Here in a grim stone structure on a Thames, which houses Scotland Yard, there's a warehouse of homicide. A very strange room where everyday objects, a woman's shoe, a tiny white box, a quilted robe, or a touch by murder. [MUSIC PLAYING] Take this ring. It's a familiar object, what a proof-cloth ray on lining, color, you can turn up against stormy weather. Here in London it's called a Macintosh, but you wouldn't wear this ringcoat. Oh, this is an inspector. The weight was tucked around that poor woman and partially burned. and it will be a good time. someone had tried to destroy the evidence. Well, it is evidence, sir, but against whom? I'm not sure yet, but this raincoat, sir, do you? This raincoat will hang someone. You can depend on it. Today, that raincoat can be seen in their special position in that very curious room in Scotland yard. She's known as the Black Museum. [MUSIC PLAYING] From the annals of the Criminal Investigation Department of the London Police, we bring you the dramatic stories of the crimes recorded by the objects in Scotland yard's gallery of death, the Black Museum. In just a moment you will hear the Black Museum starring Awesome Well. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] Now the Black Museum starring Awesome Well. [MUSIC PLAYING] Now here we are in the Black Museum, Scotland Yards Museum. It's a museum of murder. Here are the objects of homicide, the weapons, the clues which go on time in another betrayed killers. They've been collected over 100 years. And now here they are, shelf-upunch, off in this dim, echoing room. [MUSIC PLAYING] Here lies death on these shelves in these glass cases, just for instance, in this case. Simple malice. Just the sort of thing that's above the night used in his garage or his shop working at wood carving on a quiet weekend. As a matter of fact, it's a bourbon I did use these malice on a quiet weekend, but not for wood carving. [MUSIC PLAYING] The raincoat. Here we are. Stained, charred to around the edges. Just letting him like to handle for very long, but there's a story attached to it. As tried begins in the kind of place you immediately associate with absolute silence. Oh, not a graveyard, a chess club. Do you sign up, isn't it? And into this silence of concentration, they're intruded-- [BELL RINGING] London City chess club. Isn't Mr. A. Gardner? Sorry, sir. I haven't seen him yet. This is a steward of a club. May I take a message? We're expecting him. I see. My name is Champa. My name is 46 Edison Mew East. He knows. We've had some contact by where the A. Gard's insurance business. Yes, sir. And the message? I want to see him about a policy. Tell him it's rather urgent. I want him at my house tomorrow evening at 730, char. Very well, sir. I'll tell him as soon as he gets in. [MUSIC PLAYING] Mr. A. Gardner, it's not a disturbed. You're just a moment, Stuart. And there. Now, your book. Now, Stuart. Most important telephone message for you, sir, came in about half an hour together. Before you came in, otherwise, I would never have disturbed you. From a Mr. Chamfer, sir. Champa. Street. Ne. Ooh, ooh, yes. Yes, perhaps I do know him. May I have the message, Stuart? That was all. That was all until the next evening. A little bit after seven o'clock on a street curve, this quiet little insurance salesman, John A. Gardner, said to the conductors of the street curve. I beg your pardon. Does this car take me to Edison, Mewzee's? I've never been out there before, you see. I'm not-- Yes, you're all right, Mr. Take you about 20 minutes from here. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. I'll call it out for you, if you like. Oh, yes, thank you, then. Thank you very much. Oh, I beg your pardon. May I trouble you for the right time? It is? It's 735. I am right for Edison, Mewzee's, don't I? That one blocked to the car, then. Exactly. I beg your pardon, Councillor. Yes, sir? I am looking for a Mr. Chalper. In Edison, Mewzee's, I have an appointment. It's in Charlons. Do you happen to know the gentleman officer? I'm afraid not, sir. Ooh. Yeah, I know, dear. My date was for 730. Is it much past that night? 745, sir. People trying to strike the pre-corner. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much indeed. I am sorry to have trouble you, officer. He seemed to worry, little man. John A.G. Upset over his difficulty and finding Mr. Chalper, and he was still worried apparently, but an hour later, when his next to our neighbor's Harry and Ethel Benson, so I'm coming across the scrap of lawn, which separated their houses. You very God coming over, funny. Why is it funny, Harry? They come over very often. That's just it. Martha isn't with him. I mean, such a devoted couple. Martha had a bad cold today, perhaps, John need something. Well, no, isn't enough. There he is. Hello, hey God. Spotted you coming across the lawn. Yes, a good knee. You know, I am sorry to bother you. No, father at all. Do you need something from Martha's cold? Ooh, you will know about that. No, and-- And yet, I suppose the cold made her forget when both the doors went to bed. You mean you can't get in your own house? Oh, man, that's it. Front and back. I can't seem to open either of them. I don't quite know what to do about it. I don't like Martha to forget a thing like that. You always both the door behind you, when she's alone. Oh, at night, yes. There's a little bit of the doors. I do so rarely go out without her, but tonight it was business. If you-- I'm across with me, I'd appreciate it. The three of them crossed the lawn of the Eggert House. Three ordinary people. I'm insurance agent of Bankwork, Bankwork's wife. A wife said. Let me try the front door just for luck. John A. Goons, eh? It won't help her. I've tried several times. The woman tried it. That's a bit strange. I could have sprained. It happens lots of times. The lock gets stuck. It's really open, and you think it's locked, and it just won't work. Well, now you're here. It won't stop in the moment. What would Martha's code in all she'd like to see you? Come in, please. Well, just for a minute. And Martha, the bill's in the witness. Martha. Oh, oh, Martha. [GROANS] Good job. [GROANS] [GROANS] She was dead. Completely horribly dead. One look. No doctor could help. The woman's head was battered in. She labeled for the fireplace her arms and legs twisted awkwardly, like some caracid drop wooden figure, and it was blood on the heart, on the walls too, on the chair, on the rugs. And tucked around the body, you'd tuck a blanket around a child with a ring coat. [GROANS] Let me go over this once more, Mr. Ager. Of course, Inspector. If you think it will help. Details are very often helped. You say you left here just before seven. Took a trolley to wait in the mule, but you couldn't find the address or the man would call you, even asked the constable on the beat. Then you returned home to what you found. That is correct. And your wife was alive when you left her. Of course. Of course. That was about a quarter to seven. The boy would deliver the milk, and he saw her in the kitchen through the window about that time. The news was, as he tossed the evening paper at the front door, about 6'30, but saw no one. Can you corroborate any of those points? Well, I took the paper with me at a quarter of seven. Martha. Martha was alive when I left. Who could have done this, Inspector? Who will find out we would be due? May I see the cuffs of your trousers, Mr. Ligger? The cuffs of my. Oh, yes. But. Whatever for? Thank you. No. No stains of any kind? Do you really think for one minute that I will think nothing? Not yet. The raincoat Mr. Regard, is it yours? And are there two worn spots at the back of the home? There are. It's. No. When did you see it last? It was hanging on its usual hook in the hall. I see. Thank you, Mr. Regard. That's about all. And now? [TRAINING] [MUSIC PLAYING] That's about all for now. But not nearly all the experts who had worked somewhere somehow, the tiny thread which would read to the heart of the tango would be found in a quiet office in the scuff and yard, Inspector Mason discussed the experts reports with Sergeant Crandall. You couldn't have been robbery. Your guard reports nothing, Missy. Your guard reports a lot of things, including a mysterious telephone call that took him on a wild goose chase. During which he seems to take good care to leave a clear trailer with a movement. She was seen alive between 630 and 645. A gun was in the tobacco shop at 735. The girl who worked there, remember? You probably took good care she would. Beyond the doubt, he did that. But he couldn't have batted it to death after 645, cleaned up, destroyed whatever he was wearing, and still be in that shop at 735. Or made that trolley car a few minutes after seven. Exactly. Which leaves us, Inspector? With the raincoat. It's all, isn't it, Inspector? The way it was tucked around that poor woman and partially burned, and if someone tried to destroy the evidence. Well, it's his evidence, sir. But against whom, I'm not sure yet, but this raincoat, Sergeant? That was all they had. The raincoat. Inspector Mason thought about it. It was tucked around her just as if someone loved her were taking care of her. There wasn't threat. It seemed the only threat. Where did it lead? Where could it lead? Where could any of it lead? John Ega, you're under arrest. And you'll be later charged with the murder of your wife, mother. It is my duty to caution you that anything you may say. Today, that raincoat can be seen in a very special position. In that very curious room, it's cut and yard. In just a moment, we will continue with the Black Museum starring Osson Well. , and we will continue with the Black Museum. [MUSIC PLAYING] And now we continue with the Black Museum starring Osson Well. Well, they charged John Ega with the murder of his wife, mother, the evidence seems slight. Pretty pretty pretty, but still, there were strange lapses, contradictions of character, quiet little insurance salesman, responsible for a call for a possible client, and suddenly he's talkative, almost garrulous. He established himself with definite places, a definite time for total strangers, all of whom can be checked quite easily by the police. The possible client is not an existence. And now, of course, there was the raincoat. From the very beginning, the prosecutor of the crown made it clear that a great deal of his case rested on that raincoat. [MUSIC PLAYING] And if the prisoner did commit this murder, or for apparently no reason, he deserves the full punishment. Much will be made of a past life he led with his men. Much will be made of the fact that no jail of driss of blood was found on him or his clothing. But I say to you, and we hope to prove this to your satisfaction, that this woman could have been beaten to death by someone wearing only the raincoat, which we will place in evidence. Now, who ladies and gentlemen of the jury could have approached Martha Egaard, Nickhead, say, for that raincoat, except her husband, the prisoner, John Egaard, whatever is your will be, the police officer. There was more of the same much more counsel for the crown without making impression. I would add about that, but then, so was counsel of the defense. I think it's already admitted that no trace of the truth was found upon my client, although from the condition of the body and no time. John Egaard could never have committed this crime, performed the necessary ablutions, and being where he was definite to see in between 645, when his wife was not seen alive by a third party, and 7-5, the moment when my client spoke to the trolley conductor. But far, far more important is the relationship between my client and his core wife, a relationship of love, of understanding, of the perfect companionship of the tiny girls. For that reason alone, I submit my client could never have committed the crime with which he stands charged today. So it began, the legal lines of battle were drawn. 12 honest men sat in the jury box and gave their whole attention to the parade of witnesses to the arguments, to the cross-examination. Sergeant Crandall gave evidence in the amount of blood and the places where it was found. Defense counsel, cross-examined. It is apparent, Sergeant, that there was an attempt to burn the ring coat, which is now in evidence. Do you agree? Yes, sir. Such an operation would take some time, would it not? Why, I assume so. I can't say for certain, I've never experimented with a ring coat. In your wealth, you saw the scene of the crime before it was cleaned up, did you not? I did. From what you saw, would you say it was possible for the killer to escape the ashes of blood? Well, I doubt it. He would get blood on his legs, his hands, his face, his hair. I expect so. Where any such traces found on my client-- Oh, none that I know of. There's even a suggestion made that the murderer took a bath before leaving the premises. Did you see any traces of a bath, a wet towel, indications in the bath, how? No, sir, nothing like that. One more point, Sergeant. These are the telling points. But the crown made its own points as well. Inspector Mason, we'll talk to him about the penban when you first mentioned him. I was rather surprised at him. He showed less emotion than I did. How was this indicated? We said in the room where the murder had occurred. Mr. Legard smoked and taught. The hill is cat on his knees and stoke, they're quite calm. At one point, he casually-- such points, a clever prosecutor, quite clever. He called the steward of the Chesslam. Was Mr. Legard in the club when the telephone came from this mysterious Mr. Champa? I know, sir. I looked particularly. He was not there. Did you recognize this Champa's voice? I'd never heard it before. I haven't heard it since. Why do you not be the disguised voice? It might. It sounded muffle, very heavy sort of. Thank you. Your witness. Mr. Edward, in your observations of Mr. Legard, have you ever seen him behave as a pro-loser? No, sir, never. Has he ever expressed violent opinions to your knowledge? Mr. Legard, violent. He's the quietest man I've ever known. Did he ever mention his wife to? Many times, sir. On what occasion? Usually about nine in the evening. He always worried about leaving her alone too late at night, sir. Very considerate nobody is. Was there? Thank you, mentor. There it was, all they had. An elusive case. An impression, really, more than a case. Very difficult to prove. But just as difficult to defend, for instance, the evidence of Harry Benson, who was with John Eager when the body was discovered. And in all the years he would be neighbors, what would you say impressed you most about my accounts relationship with his wife? He's absolutely boasting. Never a quarrel, never a raised voice. They'd like the same things. They were perfect for each other. No witness? Mr. Benson. After the discovery, who called the police? Why? Eager did kind of think of it. My wife was very upset. She was sick over what she'd seen as a matter of fact. Yes, he was the one who thought of the police. He used the telephone quite calmly. Quite calmly. Thank you, Mr. Benson. And naturally, the defense brought John Eager's immediate superior to the stand, the manager of the local branch of the insurance company, Eager represented. This man's testimony was double-edged. On direct examination, he stated, "We have always had the complete faith in Mr. Eager's integrity and character. He carried a large policy on his own life, in favor of his wife, as she was not insured. To the best of our knowledge, which is rather complete, Mr. Aigard has never been in financial trouble in his life. "Ton cross examination." "Explained." "Yes, I live near Edison, Mew's East. And Mr. Aigard has been to my house many times. He knows the way very well. I cannot imagine why he asked for directions." "I was a personer that evening. My neighbor recognized Mr. Aigard when he came to the door of my house. Unfortunately, I was not at home." "When John Aigard's turn came to take the witness stand, there was little effort to say. I did not kill him. I had no reason to. I loved her." "A posing council summed up. The judge made his charge to the jury." "The game and the game. You have heard the importance of the time elements in this case. Could this man or any man have committed this crime, removed all crises of his person, dressed in a trolley car line, 20 minutes through his house? In the time between the moment the milk boy saw the victim alive, and the moment the conductor saw the defendant on the trolley car. More, there is no evidence to connect the defendant's directly with the crime. The case is entirely circumstantial. No motive has been established." "They listened. The twelve honest men in the jury box, they retired and they debated. What went on in that jury room is sealed in silence under the honor of the tradition of the law. Anyway, 40 minutes he lapsed. Then the jury re-entered the courtroom." The clerk asked the usual question. "Are you agreed upon a verdict?" "We are." "Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?" "Gyotry." "Prisoner at the bar. Have you anything to say why you should not die according to the law?" "I am not guilty. I have nothing else to say." "You are looking well, gone?" "The issue may well. I had a shock yesterday. The governor of the prison came here. He said eight o'clock in the morning Monday of the sixties." "Don't worry, gone. It will be put over." "The appeal?" "It's being studied. The court won't rule for another month at least. No, gone to stay at execution." "A month." "Another month." "A month." "An extra week after that time went on endlessly. It seemed to John Aigard waiting in his cell in Walden prison. At long last, they gave him his own clothes and took him before three judges of the court of the criminal appeal. Handcuffed he stood there between the bail of his own counsel. The voice of the judge seemed very far away." "There is indeed a reasonable doubt in this case. We believe there is eminence difficulty and doubt. The case against the apparent was not proved with the certainty necessary to a verdict of guilty. This appeal will be allowed. The prisoner will go free." "Yes, he went free. But the raincoat." That famous raincoat can still be found today in its place, a very particular honor in that curious room. No, unless the black museum. "Arson Wells will be back with you in just a moment." "I'm going to be a little late. I'm going to be a little late. Now here in person is Orson Wells." So, Inspector Naisen was wrong, wasn't he? The raincoat didn't hang anybody after all. John A. Goed went free and for the first time in the history of English law, a conviction for murder was set aside for reasonable doubt. "What happened to John A. Goed?" He lived out his life. Just two years after his release, he died. Some say of loneliness and Liverpool a broken, weary old man. "I've seen his grave in Liverpool, and I've seen the raincoat. That famous, in-eat-matte-the-grancote in its place of particular honor in that strange room and Scott und John. No one is the black museum. Now do we meet again in the same place for another story, for the same kind? "I remain as always, obedient for yours." The black museum starring Orson Wells is presented by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-May Radio Attractions. The program is written by Arah Marion with original music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch, produced by Harry Ellen Towers. "I'm not a man, I'm not a man." "I'm not a man, I'm not a man." The mutual broadcasting system presents the mysterious Traver, written, produced and directed by Robert A. Arthur and David Covell, and starring two of Radio's foremost actors, Lawson Zerby and Frank Silverer in Pride Out. This is the mysterious Traver inviting you to join me on another journey of the realm of these strange and the terrifying. I hope you will enjoy the trip and it will thrill you a little and chill you a little. So settle back, get a good grip on your nerves and be comfortable. If you can, as we follow the course of Earth's strange friendship to a startling end, it's the story I call Hideout. As we begin our story of a friendship that even murder could not destroy, the time is midnight. Somewhere nearby, a tower clock is striking the hour. In the shadows of the mouth of an alley in New York's east side, a boy is crouching, frightened. Down the deserted street, approaches a man, stocky, powerfully built, expensively dressed, as he passes the mouth of the alley, the boy leaps out behind him. All right, Ben. - Mr. Stick him up and don't move. - Okay, okay, just take it easy whoever you are. I never argue with a gun. - You better not. Don't give me a doll. - Yeah, sure, sure. It's in my inside coat pocket. I'll get it out for you. (coughing) - Make that. Stick me up for you. I oughta plug it. Come on, stand up. Let me see what you look like. - Don't, don't shoot me. I wasn't gonna hurt you, Alice. - Well, it's just a kid, a runt, can train a whole big-head chance to keep himself. (laughing) You got a lot of nerve, kid. (laughing) What's your name? - What do you care what my name is? Go on, call a cop. - Oh. - Oh, shit, what's your name? - It's Maxi. - Maxi, what? - Just Maxi. Sometimes a kid call me ugly 'cause I ain't so good-looking, see? - I'll say you ain't. Well, you're from, Maxi. - Philly. - You're away from home, huh? - That's my business. - You want another slap? - They try to become a stick-up man, huh? What else can you do besides stick-up? - Well, I can drive any kind of car. I had a parking lot job, boys. - I have a car, huh? Well, Maxi, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I could turn you over to the cops, but I won't. I like your spirit, and I'm gonna give you a job instead. - What kind of job? - You'll be my chauffeur. Most people try to get good-looking chauffeurs, but Big Head Jansky's gonna have the ugliest one anybody ever saw. - Gee. You, do you really mean it, Mr. Jansky? - Sure, I mean it. Now, come on. You'll stay at my place tonight. - You, you're not just kidding me, aren't you? - No, I'm not kidding you. But don't ever forget this. You double-cross me, and I'll break every bone in your body. You stick by me, and you're my friend. And I look after my friends. - Gee. - Gee, Mr. Jansky. - Now what are you, neverland for? - Well, it's because, because except for my brother, I never had a friend before in my life. Mr. Jansky. - So, Maxi, the kid from Philadelphia, became Big Head Jansky's private chauffeur. Big Head probably would let him be a full-fledged member of the mob, but Big Head laughed, told him to wait a while. Until one night, when Maxi was driving Big Head home from a late business conference. - Hey, Maxi. Maxi. - Yeah, what is it, Mr. Jansky? - Go down a little. Let's be doing 70. - No, just 68. I just forgot again that you don't like to go fast. - 50's fast enough for anybody. Except that I can get away. - Oh, sure, Mr. Jansky. - Chief, I wish you let me drive to get away class sometime. I've been on it hijack last week, Mike and little Willie wouldn't have smashed themselves up dead. - They sure, the cops shot out of tire. You can't do anything about that when you're hitting anything. - Oh, you can if you know how, Mr. Head. I guess I'm sort of dumb about other things, but I sure do know how to drive. - Well, maybe someday I'll let you try your hand and, hey, Maxi. - Yeah, Mr. Head? - That's black sedan. How long's it been following us? - All about 10 minutes, I guess. - I don't like it. - Step on a kid. - You bet, Mr. Head. - Money lonely along here. And you're gonna pull it up on us. - Step on it, will you, Maxi? - Step on it. - She must have had this. - Something wrong with the motor. I can't get more than 75 out of her. - That's not good enough. They're pulling up fast. - There, I knocked a rear window out. I'll hold her steady, kid. Give me a chance to aim. - I'll hold her, Mr. Head. (snores) - Got a headlight. That's all. You still pulling up. Maxi can't you get more speed out of this boat? - I'm sorry, Mr. Head. I just can't get over 75. - And you say you could drive. We'll be dead pigeons in another minute. (snores) - That's a tummy gun. - Yeah, I know, Mr. Head. (snores) - What is it, Mr. Head? - Make, make up a kid. I'm a shoulder, I can't use my gun anymore. They pull up fast, Maxi. Maxi, you've sold us out. You're slowing down on purpose, and it can get you. - No, really, I'm not, Mr. Head. - You're lying. You probably could use my gun, I could plug it. They're gonna stop the car and let them get me. - Honour, you watch. They're right behind. Try to try to pass and then stop us. Now hold tight and watch out. (snores) (snores) (snores) - You swear then to them, turn them over. They went into a telephone call. - Yeah, that's a trick. You swear just a right second against the front wheels. You can do it every time and not be hurt yourself. - Maxi, you promoted kid from now on, yet a mobs of official driver. - Oh, gee, Mr. Head. Gee, I don't, I don't know what to say. I thought you would double-cross me back there. - Aw, I wouldn't double-cross you, ever, Mr. Head. You're my friend. (dramatic music) - And so, the odd friendship between the big shot gang leader and the strange little man, whose only talent was his uncanny ability at the wheel of a car went on year after year. The prohibition ended. Big Ed Jansky moved on to the protection racket. From there, he went on to other illegal, but profitable enterprises always apparently immune to the law. Until it last came the day when things were abruptly changed. - Wait, wait a minute, counselor. Are you trying to tell me that they can make this charge stick that maybe they can send me to jail? - I'm afraid they can, Jansky. - Now, this is a federal indictment. You know how tough the feds are. - They're not income tax. We'll be heard of a guy getting sent to jail for for not paying his income tax. - They sent Al Capone away on a similar indictment, Jansky. You'd have heard about it if you hadn't been in Europe. - Well, you should have warned me. It's your fault. - You, you retained me too late, Jansky. Look, the special department of justice prosecutor is coming here this afternoon. I'm gonna try to make a deal for you to pay your back taxes. His name's Tom Nelson. He's just a kid. And an offer of two million will interest him enough so he won't mind saving the government the trouble of a trial. - Two million by the time he sent my gun. - If they can make you, they'll take it away anyway. Don't worry. Even if worse comes to worse, I think I can get you off with six months. (upbeat music) - Oh man. Oh, it's you, Maxi. - Are you sent to me, Mr. Ed? - Yeah. Sit down, kid. How long have you been with me, Maxi? - 13 years. - 12 years, six months and three days. Since the night you said you'll be my friend. If I stop by you. You practically got it right out of the minute, haven't you? - Oh, yeah. I could never forget it. - Well, you've been with me longer than anybody else, kid. Maybe somebody might come around, want to ask you questions. - Who, Mr. Ed? - This special federal prosecutor. You know the one they appointed a wife back, Tom Nelson. You know about him? - Oh, yeah, I do. His name's been in the paper, "Lots Lady." I read every word. - Well, he's trying to send me to Atlanta. Me, Big Ed Jansky, just because I didn't pay income tax. You know, I got a notion of Senator Rott of Bump Office, Nelson, just to teach him all the lessons. - Oh, no, Mr. Ed. - No, what? - Oh, you mustn't have him shot. Then everything would be spoiled. - I don't get you, Maxi. - Well, I mean, they might catch you and make you burn in the electric chair. - If they could prove anything. You know, you're right, kid. It wouldn't do any good just to bump off one of them, would it? Anyway, this is the idea. You know a lot about me. And though I know I can trust you. - You know you can trust me. - We're friends. - Yeah, yeah, but you're not very bright, kid. And this Nelson is. And he might learn things from you without you're knowing it. So I want you to stay out of sight until after the trial. - Anything you say, Mr. Ed? - You remember that far my bought up in Vermont? - Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember. - Well, you take the little car and drive up there tonight. There's plenty of canned stuff in the cellar. You stay here until I send for you. I've been a cleric in a month or two. Even if they tag me, it'll only be for six months. - I'll do just what you say, Mr. Ed. You can trust me for anything. (dramatic music) - But Big Ed Jansky's days of immunity were over. And the end of his trial made big headlines in the newspapers. Eventually, the news reached even the isolated farm where Maxi waited anxiously. He slowly read the news that told how his boss had been stunned by a 10 to 15 year sentence in Atlanta, penitentiary. How raging like a maniac, he elaped at the throat of the special prosecutor, Tom Nelson, screaming that he would kill him if it was his last act. How the guards had pulled him away. They hand cuffed him and carried him out of the courtroom, still shouting threats. But when he had finished, Maxie put the paper down, shook his head. Gee, I'm glad he didn't hurt Mr. Nelson. I think they'd put poor Mr. Edden. Jail? I gotta go see him. Right away. She must have had, they say you'll be here ten years maybe. What do I do all that time? That's a lot of years. I hope he takes, don't start, step for Maxie. Yeah, it's a lot of years, and it's that Nelson who's done it to me. He could have gone easy. He was trying to make a name for himself, but my expense. Just wait 'til I get out, he'll have a name all right. It'll be mud, what? What do you do? I'll plug in that's what. I told him so I'd caught, and I meant it. Oh no, Mr. Ed, please, if you kill him, they'll make you sit on the electric chair. When I say a thing, I mean it. Now tell me, what are you doing out of the gangs? I'll scatter. Well, I got a job, Mr. Ed. I had to get one when I got back to the city and my money was all gone. A job? Who'd give you a job? Well, it's a night watchman job. Nobody else wanted it. You remember that big apartment house on Riverside Drive? A great big one that never got finished 'cause their builders went there. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the one. The outlook house. Farty floors high and never finished inside. Well, it's so low in gloomy and so far, rats. Nobody wants to be night watchmen, so they gave me the job. Hey, that gives me an idea. Yeah, Mr. Ed? About eight years from now, figuring time off a good behavior, I'm getting out of here. And when I do, I'll meet a friend. Oh, I'll always be your friend. Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. So listen, I don't want you to come here again. I don't want you to write. I don't want anybody to know that you know me. You don't know because after I leave Stern to what I said, I'm gonna do. I'll need a hideout. So you hang on to that night watchman, job see, Maxi, sure Mr. Ed. And when the night comes that I knock on a door, you have a hide-and-place already for me, understand? Have a hideout with a cops on never-affine big-head chanceki. So the years slipped away, and Maxi, old and old, a curious stooped figure, never spoke to anyone unless he was spoken to first. He went about his rounds as night watchmen and they're still empty and unfinished outlook house. 40 stories high, with 500 empty echoing rooms, where the rats squeak and scamp them. Finally the day came, big-head chanceki was released, forgotten by everyone. Very soon, Maxi. Now big-head chanceki had made a promise. He hadn't forgotten it. For the evening of his return to the city, he was waiting in a darkened room for the door to open and admit the man he had sworn to kill. Hello, Nelson. Chanceki here, chanceki. Eight years later. Maybe you'd forgotten all about me, huh? Maybe you'd forgotten about my promise. Put away that gun, chanceki. Maybe you'd forgotten else, but I didn't. Eight years I've been in the pen, and every minute of that time your name's been eaten away at me because you were still alive. I'm fixing that right now. Chanceki, you can't get away with this. This will prove who's right. Me or you, take it, Nelson. Again, the name of big-head chanceki was in the papers in big black headlines. Special prosecutor killed. Police hunt released convict in murder of crime-fighter. And as the headlines blaze their news, Maxi shuffled through the empty corridors of the Outlook House, making his rounds. Now that's the last station for this round, so it gets you better go down and see if the moustads come yet. Come on, Greywiscus. You don't know, Mr. Greywiscus, but he's my friend. He's the only friend I ever had. And we'll go downstairs to the back door and wait for him. I may get you any minute now. You remember? I told you lots about Mr. Ed. Just like that, told you about that poppin' mom and my kid brother. How good he's been doing since he got out of college. You know what? Sure, I knew you were remembered. Well, Mr. Ed is coming here to hide out from the police. And he killed somebody so he has to hide out of the catch-up and put him in the electric chair. We're friends, so I have to help him. And she hadn't done it though. My door was she hadn't. Oh, there he is now. He's here, Hudson. Maxi, I'm coming, Mr. Ed. I'm coming. I'm coming. Here I am, Mr. Ed. Tell me in the stead, quick, eh? All right, I'm in. Get the door shut. Hey. It's better. Well, Maxi, here I am at last. Aren't you gonna say hello? That is, I surprise you too much. Oh, no, Mr. Ed. I read about it in the papers. And you knew I'd be around? Well, what about it? You got to hide out, fixed up for me? Oh, yeah, Mr. Ed, but gee, I wish I hadn't done it. Don't start that now. Hudson had it coming to him, and he got it. Just show me to the hideout. It cops right after me. But if I can lay low for a week, I'll be free as air. I got pals to prove I was in Chicago the whole time. All right, Mr. Ed. Hey, are we alone here in this party story joint? All alone. It's just you and me and 500 empty rooms. It just followed after me now, and I'll show you the hideout I got fixed up. Well, that joint, the grave would be cosier. Here we are now. Down in the sub basement. It's colder and damper than an ice box. We're 50 feet underground. We have to be more cheerful. One of those things over there. Oh, just the auxiliary finances. You mean, the auxiliary? Just from my own agency. Now, this building is supposed to get steam and electric from the steam and electric company, see what these finances are only in case something breaks down. Then the building can make its own steam and electric. Well, where's the hideout? You don't expect me to hide in the first, do you? Right here, see? Now, these are the doors to the Corbin. They wind up like this. Now, we can duck underneath and get inside. Just follow me now. Now, inside the Corbin, I brought down some blankets of lannard foil. There they are. Anything swell hideout, huh? A concrete Corbin. It's big enough, but no windows, no doors except that. I'd rather be in solace or anything. But nobody will ever find you. That's what's important. It's supposed to. What's that? I only do that. There. The great-wish is chasing them away. You know, great-wish is my cat. He follows me around every place I go. He's very smart. I tell him about you and about my papa and mom and how good my kid brother's been going and stuff like that. I don't care what you're talking about. You know, you never were very bright, Maxie, and you're getting dumber all the time. She, Mr. Ed, you mean you don't like that? No, I don't like the hideout. Corbin, 50 feet underground. I'll stay here. But only until after the heat goes off. I'm no longer. I understand, Mr. Ed. That's why I keep wishing you hadn't killed Tom Nelson. Then this wouldn't be necessary. It's done or nothing's going to undo it. Well, I got to be getting back to my rounds now. If I'm late punching in it was showing the clock and they wonder why they might get this snowboard. Yeah, that's right. For rounds and all rounds, I want some stuff. I want grubb and magazines and some rye and cigarettes. You'll hustle 'em down here. First chance you get to. - Hey, sure. I have a dandy idea for that. Hey, you see that hole up there in the ceiling? - Yeah, right over us. What about it? - Well, it goes up to a manhole in the courtyard, out back at a building. - And what about it? - Why? Instead of coming down to bring your food and stuff, I'll just lift that manhole and let the stuff down on the string. It'll save lots of time. And if anybody should come sluping around, I will never have to come near the basement. - I get it. Hey, you know, you're not quite as stupid as I thought. - Hey, I figured you'd see how smart it is. Now, I'll go outside and crank the door down to nobody who ever know where you're here. - Hey, you leave that door like it is. It's gonna stay open, see? - Yeah, but if the cops come around looking for you, they'll know right away you're here if the door's open. - Ah, the door, right, close the door. - So long, Mr. Ed. - And don't forget the grove. - I won't. - There, I've closed it all by an inch. I'll get you stuff at midnight, Mr. Ed. (upbeat music) - Mr. Ed. - Oh, Mr. Ed. - I told Mr. Ed. - I got you stuff, Mr. Ed. - About time. - I'm letting it down on the string. - I'll pay a lot of comments. - Ed, is Mr. Ed. Can you reach it yet? - No, no, not that stupid comment. - Well, I let out all the string. - Can you reach it now? - Yeah. - Yeah, I got it. - Okay, my friend. - Ah, yeah. - I gotta go now, Mr. Ed, as it's rough just to ride with the delivery. - Hey, you there. You the watchman? - Yeah, yeah, that's mean. - Where does this load go? - Back around right over here. - Huh? - That's good. - Yeah, that's fine. - Okay, we gotta make this snappy. There's another load of coal coming right after me. Now keep coming until daylight. We gotta finish delivery for the daytime traffic starts. - Yeah, understand. I got the manhole open for you. - Oh, good. All right, now we'll put the coal shoot in place. (gun firing) Ah. That's got it. Now to crank up the body and put all man gravity to his stuff. (engine revving) (engine revving) (engine revving) - Hey, guys, this is a spooky place. Ed is kind of driving me nuts to hang around here every night. - I don't mind it. I kinda shy that things get off. - Hey, isn't it sound like a clean man? - Well, he's dead, so I. Yeah, shows you what it's like this, the world of land's earth. Make some here screams and stuff like that. So they're finishing the outlet housing last night. And a month people will be moving in. - Well, the coal burns will be full, 200 tons. That's been number five, you're filling now. But I'm warning you, it'll have 40 tons of it. Yeah. Maybe the coal won't ever be new. - How's that? Well, it's just for the regenerated friendship. It won't ever use it unless the steam and electric from the regular companies go down. So they won't even open the bins until the heat goes off, huh? - And that might be never. - Well, that's one load. I gotta make room for the next one. I'll be back, though. And hope I don't hear any more screams. - I don't guess you will. - I bet you one thing, though. - That why? - Yes, buildings been empty so long. I bet you when people start living in it, they'll find it's picked up a ghost. (horn honking) (horn honking) (horn honking) - You said you'd bring whiskers. (horn honking) - And what's your matter? You oughta be in bed. (horn honking) - That's almost morning now. All the core bins are full up. The number five is full of the top. And Mr. Ed is down underneath 40 tons of coal. Where the police will never find him. He was my friend. The only friend I ever had. I had to help him hide out when the cops were after him, didn't they? But I wish it could have been different. Phone him, Mr. Ed. He had a shot Tom Nelson. Because when I couldn't tell him, what I didn't ever want anybody to know, what was it Tom Nelson? Who's my kid, brother? (horn honking) (horn honking) (horn honking) This is the mysterious Trevor again. Well, that's a real friend for you, that Maxi. You help your hide if it's cute and if probably will. It's a big lesson for Big Ed Hansky, alright? Who's teaching to stay out of coal bins in the future? But don't worry about him. 40 tons of coal will keep him warm for a long time. Oh, that provides me another story in which an ambitious young man who, with two corpses on his hands, decides that he. Oh, you have to get off here, I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll meet again. I take this same train every week at this same time. (horn honking) You have just heard the mysterious traveler. Now you can enjoy other tents and exciting tales of the mysterious traveler in the January issue of the mysterious traveler magazine, now available. In our cast were Lawson Survey, Frank Silvera and Sidney Paul, with Maurice Tarklin starred in the title role. Music under the direction of Sylvan Levin composed by Richard Eupage. The mysterious traveler has written, produced and directed by Robert A. Arthur and David Cogan. All characters in our story were fictitious and it was endless to names of actual persons with Gullic coincidental. Phil Tarkin speaking, this program came to you from New York. (horn honking) Pardon us, but your shadow is showing. Yes, your shadow, my shadow, and everyone's shadow is showing over most of the same mutual stations every Sunday showing outstanding mystery entertainment. This is the mutual broadcasting system. (horn honking) (horn honking) (horn honking) Mystery House, that strange publishing firm owned by Dan and Barbara Glenn, where each new novel is acted out by the Mystery House staff before it is accepted for publication, Mystery House. (horn honking) Hi, Danny. Hello, I'm Ian. We're on "Winnings" everybody. You're all up in your parts, are you? Yep. Hey, listen, I'm mighty squirrely story in this family, isn't it? Of course. That's why we think the story will make a hit. Readers don't enjoy reading about ordinary folk, they like the unusual. Well, that's right, Barbie. The more unusual, the better. Oh, I disagree on that, Mr. Glenn. It's the straightforward, direct approach to wind friends. For example, listen. (horn honking) Okay, Tom, set the scene. Murder in paradise. (horn honking) The first act opens in the palatial home of the late happy hers, tremendously successful publisher of inspiration. of books. Is Doctor is just admitted to the newspaper reporter for the living room. Let's see, you'd be Hope Harris, wouldn't you? Yeah, would you have a seat? Thanks. Where's everybody else? The rest of the happiness, boys. The happiness, boys? Sure. In general, that's what they call your family. Well, I never thought about it. I'm sure, but I don't like it. I hope you remember the family granted you this interview for your paper. You agreed there'd be nothing so cast a good cruel about father. Don't worry, kid. You know, old happy Harris was a fabulous character, anyway you look at it. Tell me, honest now, was all that happiness and light on the level? Then the old boy ever gets sore and gnash his teeth or his throat ring. My dear sir, happiness is a state of mind. There's never any reason for making yourself unhappy by losing your temper. The matter is self-control and anger is a sign of weakness. It's one of the worst vices of mankind and the Harris publishing company is always tricky. Hey, hey, wait a minute. Don't give me the sales start from the book catalog. But honest, didn't the fact that happy Harris made himself a million bucks from inspirational books? Oh, I hate that word inspirational. Didn't have maybe a teeny-reedy bit to do with this happiness act. Father was the most insumed man who ever lived. His whole life was a shining beacon, an inspiration to the world to follow the happy life, to think happy thoughts. Okay, okay, I'm sold, I believe you. Boy, he certainly sold us, I did to this family, if you're an example. Most guys would be so as all, get out at some of the cracks I made about your man. Anger is a sign of. I know. Side of weakness. It hurts the person who exhibited and it hurts the person who has to listen to it. If you refuse to listen, oh, mother, this is Mr. Joe Corning from the Harold, Mrs. Harris. Oh. I suppose you had to get a story about the happy Harris family carrying on the Harris publishing company, continuing to bring inspiration to the world. Something like that. The happy children and the happy mother, all joining together to bring sunshine. Mother, please, see Mr. Corning. I never fell for the happiness, gruff, Mr. Corning. It's about to hence the living. If I had known I was marrying a smile, I don't think I'd have done it. Mother. I know hope. Your father's ghastly cold in his grave. Well, I've lived in an atmosphere of perpetual joy for so long it's a relief to be able to grouse about something. Not to have to smirk at everybody every time I go out in public. You can't imagine what a wonderful thing that is. Mother, this man's from a newspaper. I know. Mr. Corning, you can tell your readers that henceforth I am the scowler of the Harris publishing company. High-cheap scholar. Go to stick out by Tanglet people. You're going to get into nasty arguments. Well, if it isn't my sunshine. Oh, Jeff, dear, I'm so glad you got here. Please, you can do something with mother. This is Joe Corning from the Herald, a reporter. Yeah, you know, I write. How do you do? Don't get upset, hope darling. Mother's just suffering a reaction to dad's untimely death. I love you, know about it, Jeff. Trying to irritate me, mother? You can't do it. Listen, my boy. I handled you when you were a squalling brat, and I liked you better than I do now, with that synthetic smile spread all over your mouth. You see, Jeff, she's. If your kids had an ounce of gumption, you'd stand up for your rights. No, mother. Don't you now, mother me. You don't get up on your hind legs and how Juneur's going to take the penne's right out of your piggy bank. I take it. Juneur's your eldest son. This? Happy left him more than a trick grin. Juneur had some of happy's loss in it. You see, Juneur was with us when happy and I were pitching books of counterfeas. Before we'd hijack the natives out of enough money to go into the publishing business. Mother'd like to start a quarrel, Mr. Corning. You see, Juneur's the eldest of the family, and naturally he's entitled to hit up the company. We're all perfectly happy about that. Count me out if you're taking that statement for publication, Mr. Corning. You may quote the elder, Mr. Terrace, saying, "Cloat, we put no penne's on happy's eyes because we were afraid Juneur'd get them." Mother! Boy, I wonder who that could be. Last scene. But I won't smile at him. That's gotten in the mother anyway, ho. I don't know. Oh, it's Mr. Keller. Yes? Yes, it's smiled in 50 years and the best man with a dollar in the city. Mr. Corning. Corning? How'd he do? Hi. Your treasure of the hair is publishing company, aren't you? What's left of it? Now, Keller, you know business is wonderful. The country's gone absolutely mad on inspiration literature. Yes, that's just it. It's a bad sign. They buy the books because they want to get happy and they're already getting happy. The next thing you know will be in bad shape. What we need right now is a good line of tear juggers. Juneur here with the papers yet? What papers? You'll find out what papers. Freezing us all out, he is. What do you mean? Eh, slick little devil slipped out and bought up stock. Scared the folks in the plan into selling to him. Got proxies from some of the others to conserve the estate. So he said, what? What's he so about anyway? He gave me a showdown with that nasty smile on his face. Said he was taking over following this meeting and I wouldn't be needed anymore. Said he'd be able to handle the money himself. Did he say anything about me, Keller? Eh, he said the company couldn't afford to pay salaries to the family. And he wasn't going to have it said he'd let the family ruin the business. Talked about his responsibility in maintaining the family tradition and name and, yeah, sickening, that's what it was. Now don't get excited, Mr. Keller. If Juniors said that he had a reason for it, he must be trying to arrange things so that we'll all have more money, isn't that right, Chair? I, I suppose so. For sure, we trust Juniors implicitly. Eh, fine pair of nip which you raised there, Nellie. I don't know what that loused Juniors the best of the lot of that. Mr. Keller, the Harris family had the national reputation for living the good life, for following the golden rule. Now I don't care what you say about me, but you've no right to say it. That sounded like a shot. A revolver shot. From Juniors steady. I didn't even know he was home. Come on. Or it must be enacted in some kind. I don't think Juniors even there. The rest of you stay back. No, you're second any chance. Oh, how are you? I live somebody's been shot. He won't get away. Now, best anyway. Stay back, all of you. Ah, Juniors. Yeah. I'm afraid he's dead. Shot right through the temple. And then must be suicide poor kid. Happy just gave Jeff and hoped the front and led X. He gave Juniors the whips poor unhappy kid. Stop it. You know right to talk that way. Juniors was a fine upright man. For his own mother to even think such thoughts about him when he's given his own life to save the company for it. I'm afraid that's a bad guess, hope. Why? What do you mean? You think he killed himself because. He didn't kill himself. That shot we heard didn't kill him. Couldn't possibly have killed him. But it had to. It was only one shot. We all heard it. Look, Jeff. This will probably make you very unhappy, but the body's cold. Feel it yourself. I. I couldn't. Blood's coagulated around the wound. Oh, stop it. You've no right to say such gruesome things. No. Listen. That gun was put in his hand by someone after the fingers had stiffened. Nobody ever held a gun like that in this world. Juniors Harris was murdered. That's not possible. Maybe it isn't possible, but it's happened. And you happiness kids are in for the jolly of life. What? What do you mean? I mean, at these papers here on this desk or what Keller was talking about. All legal. You three were frozen out of the firm as neatly as it's ever been done. Which gives you pretty good motives for bumping him off. Do you think that we'd actually kill our own brother? Whoever did it and do it for lives. And if you're hunting for a motive, you folks had a pretty good one. Oh, Lorde, it's a relief to hear a young man talk some things for a change. The police are going to give you thoughts, though, works. Yeah, it's in me, too. I suppose they'll hound and badger me so that life's miserable. I can just see him pestering me. You. You, Mr. Keller. You could have killed him because he said he was going to take over your job to save your job and for revenge. Look, Hope, from what that reporter, Palace, says, Junior was already dead when I got here. That's just it. When you got here, none of us knew Junior was here. Why? Because you killed him and loved him in through the window. Then your tiptoed out, closed the window and came around to the front door. Junior studied, or was closed, so naturally we didn't see or hear anything. After I closed that window you're speaking of, how do you figure I got it locked from the inside? Pretty good trick. I. Why? It is locked, isn't it? Yes. And that's shot. After I was here with you, folks. You know I'm no venturicist. Hope. Yes, Chef. You were in the living room alone when the reporter came, weren't you? Why, yes. Naturally, I couldn't know anything about Junior's being here because I was upstairs. Mother wasn't here either. But it's quite obvious that he did come in, probably before the reporter. And if he decided to tell you what he'd planned. If he decided, Chef, are you trying to say that I murdered him? I'm saying it's a possibility. Are you. Listen, you. You namby pamby? If you think you're going to pin this murder on to me, you've got another guest come. I'm simply saying what could have happened. Well, you just go right ahead. Keep talking, Chef. Try to get me into all the trouble you can and when you get through, I'll show you what trouble really is. You want to be nasty, do you? Well, okay, brother, dear, I'll be nasty too. I'll tell him about that cute little thing I heard between you and Junior last night. Oh, so you're an eavesdropper, are you? You bet I'm an eavesdropper. And why wouldn't I be with a couple of two-faced hypocrites for brothers? Brothers who robbed me blind if they got the opportunity? I don't know that you're such an angel yourself, hope. I suppose you weren't trying to pull a fast one with Junior. You lied. I suppose you didn't tell him you'd cooperate with him whenever possible way. And then between the two of you. I said I'd co-op. because I had to or lose everything I had. He was a rotten, no good, tricky cheat. And the only way anybody could protect himself was to work with him. - Sure. I guess mother and me. - Why? - At least I didn't threaten to kill him. I guess that'll hold you for a while. - You mean you heard your brother threatened to kill Junior? - Certainly did. And they weren't smiling, either one of them. Just a minute, Mr. Coney. - Are you leaving? - Yep. Sorry, but this is too good a story to pass up. Talk about your sweet angles, murder and paradise. Happiness, kids, tear each other's hair. I'll be back with the police. - Just a minute, Coney. - Huh? Take your hand off that donor. Mother, where did you get that gun? Never mind where I got it. You might as well make up your mind to stick around the wild, Coney. - But my story, I-- - We've got close to a million dollars in the Harris Publishing Company, Coney. And you're not blowing the company sky high with that kind of a story. - Shit! - Sorry, Mrs. Harris. Oh, mother. Shit, Mr. Coney. Next time, I might not try to miss. When you fool around with a million dollars, you don't say for that. [MUSIC PLAYING] [CROWD CHEERING] Not many clues on the identity of Junior Harris' murder are there. Well, the Tangle will air beyond snarl and the second act of tonight's story. [MUSIC PLAYING] And now act two of murder and paradise. The scene is Junior Harris' study and the one mother which reads, "You can be happy as a skew." Your calling the reporter seems to have resigned himself to staying down the wild. It's pretty obvious that two guns played a part in Junior's murder, isn't it? One to killing and one to file that shot we heard from the living room. I-- by yes, I guess that's right. And we found two guns, haven't we? What are you driving at? There's nothing so mysterious about it, is there? I said we'd found two guns. The one in Junior's hand and the one mother fired in your general direction when you tried to leave. Listen, you lousy little brat. If you're trying to make sure mother-- Oh, let me alone, Kenneth. Oh, I'm Jeff Daling. What was it you were going to say? You had another gun and there were two guns used. That's right. Then your gun could have been the one that fired the shot we heard from the living room. You could have had it hidden in here, rigged up somewhere to go off later. Look, I'm about ready to take a poke at you. I've seen some forth raided heels in my time, but one who tried to stick his mother in a murder case. Oh, don't get so indignant, Kenneth. This makes me very happy. Happy? Mm-hmm. I've seen him smile so much that it's a real pleasure to see him getting tested. And I can't forget to tell you how pleased you made me feel when you screamed and styled it just. I can't-- What the-- Please, you shouldn't talk that way. Just deliberately accused you of me. I know murder, but it doesn't mean anything to you. Of course not, but that gun-- Worrying you too is it? Well, remember, I fired a shot to persuade Corning to stay. Yeah. Here, Corning, I'll open it. See if more than one shot is been fired. No. Only one shell missing, then fired just one. But I'm interested in hearing more about your little fight with your brother last night, Chip, the one where you said you would kill him. Well, I-- I guess I did say that all right. I suppose we might as well get one thing cleared up. We all knew what Junior was pulling on us. Dad had left Junior a little more stock in the company than the rest of us because he wanted Junior to head the firm. Junior used his position to work a squeeze play on the rest of us. He called a family meeting for this afternoon. And you all admit you knew what he was doing? Yeah. We worked things to get you in here for this interview this afternoon as a last resort. We had Mother Call you. I don't get it. Well, we thought if we all gave out stories to the press about the family, and how we trusted Junior, and knew anything he was doing was for our best interest, well, we thought we might shame him in the changing his mind. Dad was always scared to death of bad publicity. He said it could ruin our kind of a firm. Corred told. That's why he brought us up the way he did. We were supposed to be living testimonials to the power of his happiness, Crocade. So you tossed your little problem to me, and that's right. And it looks like one of you had a lot more effective way of handling it. Couldn't it have been something outsider? Don't be naive, Hope. Of course it was one of us. You're not going to be able to keep the story out of papers forever, Mrs. Harris. How about giving me a break and letting me get back to the office? You'll get the story before anybody else does, and you'll get it the way we want it. See, the suicide story stand up to the point that Pisc is shocked we heard. Oh. Did we hear it? I heard it, Mrs. Harris. Did you hear it? $10,000, man? I don't buy off, Mrs. Harris. Sorry. Somebody could have killed him with robbery as a motor, coming in through the window and going out the same way. It wasn't for that lock. Yeah, I suppose it's heard anything to just give it a little jiggle, Ben. If you want to tap it with the evidence, Keller, you'll be able to read all about it in the heralds. Look, we're not going to get anywhere till we find out about that second shot. Even if you won't let me leave, you've got to let me call the police. You really have to, mother. I do. Oh, well, it is no way out of it. Go ahead. Just a minute. Mrs. Harris showed us a gun. She fired one. I wonder if anyone else in this room has a gun. I'll revolve that being hidden. Oh, that's preposterous. Why should anybody? I'm going to search the rest of you before I call the police. How about you, Jeff? I. no. See here, you're no policeman. You can't think. Maybe I could. Now hold still. See here, you've no right to. Oh, try to slug me. Where do you-- Oh, how much I'm risked. Search him, Keller, quick. Okay. Nothing'll do any good. Well, I'll be dog gone. Or revolve, or Jeff. Hmm. Well, it's missing from it, too. See here, Connie. You have no authority. Forget the authority, Jeff. I guess now, maybe I can call the police. No, listen. I had the gun with me. We heard the shot from him in here. I couldn't possibly have-- Hello. Captain Heron, please. Captain Heron? Now, it's Joe Corny of the Herod. Heh-heh. Say, uh, there's a guy out here at the happy Heros place who has a nice little puzzle for you to solve. Yeah. How he managed to commit a murder. They've got him covered so he can't get away, but hurry. It's perfectly terrible to think of Jeff and Joe. They had no right to take him. That policeman didn't have any idea how Jeff could have fired the gun. He didn't? What? But you told the police-- I know. I know. But I think your brother was telling the truth about that revolve. Then why did-- Didn't you have a notice? A murder lays low until somebody else is arrested. Then he gets brave. And if he doesn't do anything, we'll never catch him. This way, there's a chance. But who do you think-- I'm not saying. Mother and Mr. Keller-- No, they wouldn't do such an awful thing either of them. Awful thing? Look, he was a great a-heel and he deserved exactly what he got. The charming junior Harris, the papers, always said. Heh-heh. But as charming as a rattlesnake. Then you knew him. No. And I got along very nicely without knowing. Mother, Mr. Keller, where have you been? I've been worried about you. I'm quite able to take care of myself, hope. We've been engaging legal counsel for Jeff. And they're quite encouraging. Spectre have the amount in the couple of hours. Oh, but that's wonderful. They said the police haven't a prayer of holding him. Something will probably go wrong, though. Red tape or some fool thing will keep us from getting him out right away. Well, I wish you luck. And it's high time I was getting back to the officer. I'll get scooped on my own story. Oh, just a minute, Mr. Carling. I've admired your stories in the hair so much. So many of them are signed. Oh, I get all byline knowledge, you're. Well, that's why I ask for you when I call this morning. That's one other thing. One other thing? Yes. I was snooping through some of junior's desk drawers late yesterday afternoon. And I ran across some letters from a Julia Corning. The name is it common. Is she your sister by any chance? Why are you? It'd be quite easy to check, Mr. Carling. Yes. Yes, yes, she's my sister. There's a different nickname. That's the second reason I asked for you. You understand, don't you? Then you think. But. I never even met the guy in head no desire to. Oh, I knew what sister thought of him. Sure. I wanted to see what you'd do, Mr. Carling. for you would try to blame for the murder. I wanted to give you enough proof to hang yourself. That's why I didn't say anything about this to Thor. Look, I didn't kill him. I have nothing to do with it. I never laid eyes on him until I opened the door of that study. I think the police ought to know about this. I don't see why you didn't tell him sooner, Nelly. This is soon enough. Will you go to the police station quietly, Mr. Corning? Remember, I'm a pretty good shop. When I missed you before, I did it deliberately. I'll be hanging to apologize to my sister in the dismiss. She's had enough unpleasantness out of this family. I never speak, Mr. Corning. But not too convincing. Come along. Oh, no. If you think you're going to involve her in this mess, you're wrong. Get wrong. You're not stopping! Oh, well. Do you see? I don't always miss Corning. I am. Get me to a doctor, quick. They have adopted the police station, I imagine. Come on, tell us. You better take him in. You can't go like that, mother. You'll need your coat. Never mind my coat. Come on, Jack. But it's chilly, Al. We've got to hurry before he loses too much blood. It won't take a second. Your coat's right over here in the coat's car. How about you? No, I don't want my coat. You're going to take it anyway. Hold the pocket in a burnt streak, Doc. Bab our killer, quick. No, no, no, no, no. I'm surprised that you, Nelly. Stop name that thing at me. Get it, hope. I have, but I don't understand. Look at the coat pocket. Don't let her get her hands on it. Hmm. A revolver with pieces of broken matchsticks wedged in behind the trigger. And there's a bottle with some water in it and no cork. And the inside of the pocket is all wet. Okay. Now I put the matchsticks in behind the trigger. Not firm enough to make it go off. Not quite. The bottle was full of water when I stuck it in the pocket on its side. I knew the water'd eventually expand the matchsticks. And they swelled up enough, the gun had to go off. Pretty cute. You knew nobody to expect a shot to be fired from a close closet and that it had sound the same as if it came from the study. It did. You all fell for it. But it was supposed to be suicide. Didn't want to get anybody in trouble. You were here in case anything went wrong. There'd be the fall guy. And you were my undoing right from the start. But when did you kill him? Early this morning. I told you and Jeffy left to see the lawyers. Oh, your own son, your own flesh and blood. No hope. I always told happy he was wrong about that. None of your kids was nellies really. And happy he thought of to make better publicity, not to mention his first wife had walked out on him and got a divorce. He wanted to make folks think he always had a happy family. Happen. I've been kept miserable for years by one smirking hypocrite. I wasn't going to let another one cheek me out of the money I don't. All right, killer. Take me in. The lawyer reported that it come along too. [Applause] [Music] [Music] NBC presents Frank Lovejoy in. Night, Bee. [Music] Hi, this is Randy Stone. I cover the night be for the Chicago Star. This little jewel, this little beauty, this little sweetheart of a story, started on a hot night in June, around 7 p.m. I was at my desk trying to convince myself that there was really a good reason to get up and roll down my sleeves, tie my shoelaces, and start walking those steaming sidewalks so that my 400 words could end up next to the girdle ads and the shipping news, arrivals, and departures, page 30. Now well, it's a living. So dry your tears and think. [Music] She had stopped a few feet from my desk looking at me like I was one of those $60 bombing jobs. A cute little thing in crisp linen and wet sheets. Can't be that bad, kid. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to control myself. It's so awful. The old airman said you were the only one around. And that's why you're crying? I just don't know what to do. About what? They call me an hour ago from the city pumps. About my dog. Your dog? He did. Oh, that's too bad. He died of rabies. Oh. In six days, I should have taken him to the bedroom right away. Oh, it's my fault. Well, those things happen. I know it's tough losing a dog. That's not that bad of you. Five days ago, he did a man. Well, this man better stop the past bird treatment post-haste. Just did. Who? Oh, I tell you since I got that call, I've been going crazy. Why am I going to do? Do. I don't know who the man is. Do that over again? True. Sit down. What am I going to do? The first thing you're going to do is start talking. It was such a nice youngster. His name was Fred. Fred what? I don't know. He passed by my house every day on his way to work. My dog took a life between. Yeah. It was five days ago. Last Monday, the dog had been sick like I said. Instead of getting the dog bidding on the face, I went into the house to get some first aid stuff. But when I came out, Fred was gone. That's the last I saw of him. Yeah, it'll be the last you'd see of me too. Now just sit where you are. Give me one of the doctors over at the border health. I'll hang on. What's your name, kiddo? Judy Hartley. How do you feel terrible? Well, you relax. I'm going to be okay. Oh, hello. Say, this is Randy Stone of the Star. A fellow gets bit by a dog. Five days ago, a dog later dies of rabies. A face. We don't know where he is right now. Yeah, I'm going to do what I can. I will. Thank you. What do you say? Instead of the death rate from rabies, there's 100%. Oh. Now just for life. The past year treatment has begun in time. There's no danger. So we've got to find him. Well, there's another little gimmick, kid. When the bite is on the face, you only have about a week at the most to begin treatment. Done. We had a couple of days to find this guy. After that, it's too late. Well, that's how it began, 735 Thursday night June 6th. The girl and I would write the police headquarters through a street's choke with thousands of listless Chicagoans looking for small breeds. But I told the lieutenant in charge what had happened. He turned his yellow as Chalsemayan put in a call to the captain. The captain had been called right in the middle of his son's wedding. When he came down to the station, he was wearing a white tuxedo, a red carnation, and a purple rage. On the after I told him what the score was, the carnation seemed to wilt in his lapel, and he looked a little like the Chalsemayan too. Ravies. Good Lord. Where do you live, young lady? 32-01, please. Oh, I feel so guilty about this. Anybody who has a dog doesn't give an anti-radi-sot should pay me. I know. I know. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Forgive me. You say you walk past your place every day on the way to work. How do you know he was on his way to work? Well, you wore the can of silver clothes and you carried a lunchpale. And I would be worked so late to make the money. Along with 100,000 other people. You're telling me. Radio room. Of course you think this name. Hello. I want every squad car in the Logan Square area, I lit it. I want five special squads. I am crossed by fingers long out to call in all the newspaper radio and television boys. We set up a news pool with me as layers on man because it all started at my little weather beaten desk. And then the coverage began. began. With an 9 p.m. break, every radio and television station threw away their jingles and endorsements who announced that anyone bitten by a collie dog five days before should report to Captain Blair of the police at once. The evening edition of the sometimes the Tribune and the Star carried the same item on the front page. By 10 o'clock the police switchboards will lit up like Christmas trees by people wanting to help, and by 1030 the psychos were making their appearance. Oh yes, here's under one alright. Hi, Pithy. Here to what, Judy? No, no, no. But I am. I confess. I confess. You must believe me. I killed them all. Every one of them. If you want me to, I'll take you to the body. That sporting of you, Sergeant, would you escort the gentlemen to the bodies? 10 after 11, still nothing. Judy, the captain and I are sweating it out in his office, avoiding each other's eyes. The captain now with his white tuxedo coat hanging over a chair and his black tie dangling from one ear and trying not to look at the clock. Judy chewing on her knuckles and me making one trip after another to the water cooler in the corner. In the minutes past, and then the phone started ringing again like it had been ringing all night with one false alarm after another. Hello, yeah. What? Where? Hey, what is it? Pagers. Good work, Harris. Be right over. He found you? No, but the next best thing they found out where he lives. Come on. It was a rambling frame house over on Keds the Avenue with a tin sun that announced housekeeping rooms newly decorated. Two squad cars were parked in front and little gathering of citizens hung around wondering what the excitement was all about. A scrawny, hot face land lady let us up spares to a back bedroom swinging a wadded newspaper at malls and flowers. Well, here we are. As soon as Judy looked into the room, she stiffened with excitement and pointed to the dretches. Because lunch, do you? He always carried it. It's here. No, it's a tear. Close my closet at his shoe. My busy bottle. Here's also the girly pictures in the mirror. Nothing I hate worst than flies. What's this man's last name? Red bears and maybe they mean good. Now do you have any? My here 103 degrees tomorrow. I don't know. Answer me. I think it's your wagon. It's a little lady. Do you have any idea where we can find Graham now? Other copper. Ask me that. And what did you tell the other copper? Who knew I didn't have a slightest idea where Graham is now? When's the last time you saw him? Four or five days ago. All of them girly pictures though. I think he's got a rose over here. All right, much flies mother. No, thank you. Watch your language. You. Me. Oh, why? Hey. I'll think I got a one. I hate flies. So at a few minutes before midnight we had his name, Fred Graham. And after the cops finish going through his room, we also had his personality. This was a lover boy from way back. Couple dozen love letters that made Chicago's heat waves seem puny by comparison. A large handful of girly pictures each thoughtfully inscribed. Hair, pomades and toilet waters galore and two tins of sand. Also some paycheck stuff from the A1 auto repair service. Also a postcard from his mom and Cheyenne wayoming hoping he was being a good boy. Good. This guy must have been terrific. I one thirty a.m. every girl who'd sent a letter had been contacted. No Freddie. The owner of the garage hadn't seen him for five days. All his former and Wyoming could offer her tears. The one break with a snapshot. He appeared on a few of them and his likeness was blown up full size and handed around. Two television stations returned to the air to transmit the picture for a solid hour. And the two a.m. edition of all the papers tore out every story of disaster and war and hate and carried nothing on the front page for the smiling face of Fred Graham. The radio boy is brought away a recorder to the captain's office and he transcribed the message. This is police captain Blair. I am broadcasting this urgent message to Fred Graham. The dog that bit you five days ago has died of rabies. You must have treatment at once so you are doomed. Reported to the police or to any doctor in Chicago immediately. For the rest of that night the message was broadcast every 15 minutes on all the stations that remained in operation. But still nothing happened. And then around 4 a.m. the captain rolled up his sleeves picked up the phone and really went to work. I'm sorry I had to get all you good people up but we need all the help we can and we need it passed. I want to bring all your people up. Fred crossed people with air. The FBI, the civil defense people. Represented this from the mayor, the board of health scout organizations, the Salvation Army. A sweltering room full of people. I spotted Judy in the back of the room looking very pale and strong. I sat next to her and she sagged against it. He's told who health doctor tells me that already it might be too late for us to help Fred Graham. That's certainly that every hour of the passes reduces our chances of reaching him in time. Therefore I've decided to call the entire city into the house. Let's find him the post city. Judy. [Music] She pulled it up like a ragged dog. I carried her outside to the first aid room where a nurse began bringing her around. When I returned to the conference room I saw Judy's first on the floor where she dropped it. I picked it up. It sagged suspiciously. I opened it, a gun. When I went back to the first aid room she was feeling better. That is until I handed her back to the person. You found the gun. I want it back. Why? Because it's not. I have a permit. You'll have to come up with a better reason than that. It doesn't matter. I'll get another gun. It's not a gun. Something else. Now, kid. Don't understand. It's like I killed him. It's just the same. That's nonsense. That's how I feel. Because they don't find him in time. I couldn't live. Easier. [Music] N.D.C. is bringing you Nightbeat starring Frank Lovejoy as Randy Stone. It's the silver Jubilee on N.D.C. I'd like to take just half a minute to alert our listeners for two more top mystery shows heard tonight on N.D.C. First, straight from the famous Craig Rice novels, here are the amazing Mr. Malone. Then later here Herbert Marshall starring as the man called X, who proves that the symbol X stands for adventure in all the distant and dangerous places of the world. Listen for the amazing Mr. Malone and Herbert Marshall as the man called X. Later tonight over many of the same N.D.C. stations. [Music] And now back to Nightbeat and Randy Stone. It started out as just another hot Chicago night and now it had disintegrated into a first-class nightmare. An entire city trying to find Fred Greene who'd been bitten by a rabid dog and who would surely die if he weren't located very soon. Well, I am broadcasting this urgent message to Fred Greene. The dog that did you five days ago. And all through the long hours of the night that this jockey's interrupted all the soldiers never die and dab, dab, dab, dab, to play the captain's recorded message. And all that morning on the wake up in Cheyne Stone and the television station through you and the newspapers playing up the photograph of Fred Greene. But nothing happened. Around 6 am I sent Judy home with an nurse and told the nurse to watch her every minute. And after that I just hung around the hallway of the Central Police Station watching the Ruby Red Sun start anew sizzling day. The last day we'd have to find Graham in time. The captain called me in around nine. The white tuxedo looking like something left over for more circle. All right. All right. So you might say left town without picking up his clothes or his paycheck and for no reason. Mind you if we've checked on that he's not one of real big. No. No creditors or police record nothing like that. But for the sake of argument. Okay, left town. I look at these newspapers. Right news. The odd post. Any hair. Just no product. I'm paid story every newspaper. It's still nothing happened. Where is he? Where is he? That's a good question. But the good answer I'll fix every traffic ticket to get for life. I'm going batting. I'm maybe any couple of minutes sleep. Sleep. I'm going to time I close my eyes. I hear that water health lecture. This month the way a man dies with a rate. It's. It's not why I called you. You're the boy having the press call for all the papers. Okay, here's the latest. plan of action. We're dividing the city into eight sections. We're on the scouts, the girls, the supplies with 2000 boys, come to the suburbs, and then they'll be stood. The civil defense is flying 10,000 miles to handle the north side, and the Red Cross is big enough another five miles. And we've got this glare. Yes. What are you making so hard for a taxpayer to see you for? For an hour now, I've been trying to get in here. I've been pretty busy. I do. Robin's been there. Joe Robin's. It's all over. Ended. Call off everybody relax. Fred Graham. What? Where is it? And those bombs outside gave me trouble. Wouldn't let me through. Love taxpayer, Robinson. Just tell us where he is. How should I know? How should I know? I mean, not right away. Give me an hour or two. But as soon as I heighten it to the airport, you get my little piper cup up there and the wild blue, younger, the wild blue, younger. Which again, I'm a skywriter. All the long, I put around writing, "So does Selcher is the top." Hour after hour, "So does Selcher is the top." You know how many people look up and see that? Only everybody. OK, so today I sell Selcher that keeps it 20 bucks an hour and I write, "Fred Graham, where are you?" Where's a question mark? Sure with a question mark. You know how many guys in my racket can make a perfect question mark? Mighty few. As gently as possible, we ease Joe Robinson the flying taxpayer out of the place. But in a cock-eyed way, he was symbolic of the entire city, ready to give up 20 bucks an hour to help find Fred Graham. Yeah, that's how it was everywhere. That morning in every church of prayer was said for Fred Graham at early mass. Around every newsstand, the solemn little crowd gathered, shaking their heads and taking it as a personal tragedy. Around the radio shops. This is police captain Fred. Ends of palsal searching through the city, even the winos on Skid Row had been organized to search through the pop houses and basements of their area. Since midnight, not a single police officer had gone off duty. But still Graham was nowhere to be found. Why? Where was it? In a few hours, it really wouldn't matter. Around eight that night, I left the police station where you could have cut the bloom with a butter knife. It threw the hot streets where gloom followed at my heels and up to my office at the star where the gloom was waiting for me. Everyone crowding around me, wanting to know the latest. And when I told them there wasn't any latest, they moved away quietly. These characters who covered stories of wars and famines and pestilence where millions had died needlessly. The crazy world. I went over to my desk to try to write the story, and then I saw the stack of telephone messages by thumb through them quickly, mostly from people wanting to help. But there were eight of them that said exactly the same thing, call SU13689 urgent. Nothing could be very urgent after the death. Hello? This is Randy Stone of the Star. Why didn't you call me before? I've been going crazy to end the issue. Didn't you get my messages? I've been away from the office on the Graham story. That's what I'm calling about. What's the talk to you? Oh. Fred Graham. What? She's got to come along. Look, he needs help and he's at fact. I know that. That's the condition. She's come along. What's the address? Hello? Yes, yes. What the address? 2830, Roger's out in your garden. I've got it. How does he feel? Callable. 30. I was in the cab on my way over there when I remembered a beat-up little game who'd wanted to kill herself, namely Judy Hartley. We had to pass within free blocks of her house anyhow and I figured the extra minute wouldn't make that much difference. I told the cabbie to keep the motor running and rang Judy's bell. Nurse opened the door. I would write pastor to where Judy was curled up on the couch, till knowing on whatever was left to burnuckles. I took her gun out of my pocket and handed it to her. I don't understand. I used to have to permit for it so I get the bill paid. Besides, you won't have to blow your brains out after all. You don't mean to do that? Yes, I do mean. Come on. [MUSIC PLAYING] 2830, Roger's Avenue was a punch-thunk apartment building leaning up against the moldy gas works. But the Judy and me, Buckingham Palace, never looked so good. The dark hallway smelled more of cabbages than of kings. The on was applied as fair as lit by a single flickering light bulb that dangled listlessly willing to let go on up alone. I pressed the button marked C and we waited and then upstairs beyond our side of door. Is this a stone? Yeah. Graham? That's right. One of fairs. He hurried up the steps and seemed to me like four million Chicagoans were running up right with his gasping down my neck. And then it came to me when I was doing all the gasping. And up ahead was another hallway lit by another note talent road. A young man was standing beside an open door. Brother, am I glad to see you? Yeah. No. Hold on. No. [MUSIC PLAYING] He spun around with back into the apartment slammed the door behind me. I must make a grand first impression. Graham, open up Graham. Oh, what's wrong with you? Maybe you've already started to get sick. I read somewhere we're asking like this one of the first symptoms. Yeah. I'll break down the door. Break it down. Stand back. Me and my dynamic tension. That's it? That's it? That's it? [MUSIC PLAYING] I stepped through the broken door and into the small bedroom. He'd been desperately trying to get out the window and now he was towering against the wall like the mad dog. Judy, get on that phone quick call, Captain Barnes. Have you got an ambulance over here right away? You won't need an ambulance. You'll need a horse. Why? Oh, now listen to me, sweetheart. I can explain everything. Sweetheart. Hey, Judy. Judy, what are you doing with that gun? Kill him, a dirty horse. Yes, the gun I'd given back to a half an hour before. The first shot shot at the window. The second knocked the head off of Pink Cupid doll on the dressing. And the next two did terrible things to the ceiling classes. The fifth one threw a silkworm shape, making the tassels way back and forth. The last shot was really adept. This one had came within three feet of Fred. And after that, the gun just clicked harmless for several times. And after that, Judy began crying, which is where I came in. And then Fred started crying, always. Come on, sweetheart. Don't cry. Please don't cry. Oh, Freddie. Oh, Freddie. Freddie, I wanted to find you and kill you. You know what that means? You wanted to kill him. Freddie, where are the dog bites that hurt so much about? Well, it's been a fantastic little thing. What I do, I love her. Freddie, the next time I get Bill, as I want you to turn me over your knee. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute. Wait a minute. What is this? Last fight we had, Elidav. Real Lulu, wasn't. You made me give her back all the letters and pictures and still she wasn't satisfied. And I heard she bought a gun to kill me. I figured it was time for me to drop out of sight. Oh, uh-huh. So in order to find you, she came around to me with a story about a dog. She doesn't even have a dog. She's got a death of her. Oh, no, no, this isn't really happening to me. Well, gee, I never expected there to be such a fuss about it, Mr. Stark. Oh, no, Randy, call it being a great boy. I just thought this maybe you'd help me find him yourself. Oh, hang on, Randy, I'm just going to be okay with all the weird things. That's why when the captain called all those people, that's why I saved him. Oh, that's why you're famous. Sarah's Bernhardt, you know what you've done to this fair city of 4 million people in the last 24 hours. I guess that was sort of a story to do. Wasn't it, Mr. Stone? Well, since there were no more bullets in the gun, I couldn't kill her or myself, and I'm checking with a dog pound, but who could doubt a story like that? Finally, I took a walk through the city where 10,000 boy scouts and 8,000 red cross-workers, the entire civil defense set up, researching for Fred Graham door to door, television people, the newspaper people, the radio people. This police captain bled. I have brought the passing discerning message to Fred Graham. Get up! All those cops working the night through without a moment's sleep, the wine old searching the plot houses, every church offering up prayers. Visually, I looked up into the sky myself only to see in the fast fading dust, the sky rider putting a smoky question mark on Fred Graham, where are you? The whole city, 4 million people. What was the caliber of that gun? And then, gradually, I began to realize that maybe all this wasn't such a tragedy after all. Oh, sure, I was in for the rising of my life, but just the same maybe something wonderful had taken place without anybody realizing it. So what if the things turned out to be a pony? There was nothing pony about the way this town of four million closed ranks and forgot all their petty little problems and went to work. If this was a sample of what happened if a real test came, well, you know, things were pretty good. When four million people can tear themselves apart trying to save the life of one simple guy without caring how much money he had in the bank or whether he was the Truman or MacArthur or what church he went to, when all he cared about was that one human being was in trouble. Well, by golly, the race of man wasn't so bankrupt after all. Copy, boy. Oh, no, no. Wait a minute, no. You better get me Captain Blair. I just hope he's had his baby shot. Oh. Nightbeats, starring Frank Loved Joy, is produced and directed by Warren Lewis. The night story was written by Larry Marcus with music by Robert Armbriths. The part of the Captain was played by Alan Reed. Others featured were Virginia Greg as the landlady in Laura, Paul Freeze as Fred, Joyce McCuskey as Judy and the pilot, Homer Well. Frank Loved Joy can currently be seen co-starring with Joan Crawford and Robert Young in Warner Brothers, good bye, my fancy. Listen next week at this time and every week as Randy Stone searches through the city for the strange stories waiting for him in the dark. Nightbeats came to you from Hollywood. When your suspicion turned into terrible truth, it's nightfall. Welcome dear friends. Patrick Hemp, your fellow detective in tonight's disturbing unraveling of a mystery. You know, whether you're looking for a job or whether you're simply trying to perform the one you have, doing all the right things might just open one too many doors for you. Tonight show Private Collection, by Edmonton, writer Warren Graves, we're taken down a path which unfortunately only goes one way with them. Sorry about that, Rush Job. Not a, what can I do for you officer? I'm a constable wood, I'm checking out a list of missing persons. I was just wondering if you'd heard anything from Alan Yates. She's still missing? I've still got her on the list. I can't understand that, it doesn't make any sense at all. Why do you say that? Alan wasn't the sort of girl who got missing? I mean one of my best drivers, absolutely reliable. You reported her missing just over a month ago. Oh, so that long ago? February 7th? Yeah, that's right. And you still haven't found her? I wonder if you wouldn't mind just running through it again for me. I've done all this before, you know. Well, yeah, I know, I'm sorry about that, but I've just been assigned to missing persons and you never know who you might remember something else. I doubt it. Well, why did you report me to see? What do you mean? Well, usually the person reporting is a relative or a close friend and it's not usually the boss. Oh, that. Well, I guess it was because it all seemed so damn weird. First off, I got balled out by the company she was supposed to be making a pickup from. Then I went to look for her, but her van wasn't even in the yard. Yeah, but it turned up later. Well, yeah, when they were throwing me on street partners for rush hour, got towed away to the pound and they were the people who foamed me. Well, just to come and get it. Right. Okay, and that's when you decided to report her to the police as a missing person? Well, sure. Something must have happened to her. I mean, she leaves here to make a perfectly normal pickup. She doesn't make it and their van is impounded. Doesn't make sense, does it? That's true. So, what happens next? Hmm. I'll report this back to my sergeant and just keep lurking, I guess. Well, there's something damn weird about it if you ask me. I mean, I can somebody disappear in the middle of downtown and broad daylight. Hmm. Well, that's what I'm trying to find out. [Music] Morning, Constable Wood. Oh, morning, sergeant. How do you like sitting behind the desk? Makes a change. Yes, well, I expect you'll be doing a lot of that. Better get yourself a cushion. Right. And you like on that Ellen Yates case? Well, I had another chat with the dispatch manager, but he hasn't heard anything. So, I'm going to Linda Renfield's office this afternoon. Who's Linda Renfield? Well, she's the lawyer that disappeared the day after Ellen Yates. Uh-huh. Just looking for the girls, are you? We get men reported missing as well, you know. See, I think there must be some connection between these two. A connection between a courier and a lawyer? But make sure to think that. Well, they're both very attractive girls and they both disappeared from the middle of the city during office hours. That's a bit thin, isn't it? I think it's unusual. All right. Check it out. Let me know if you come up with anything. [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] Digging my foot in there. These things could chop you in half if you get in the chair. Oh, God, it's five past one already. This is the second time I've been late this week. Come on, come on, come on, come on, meet patient. I swear to God, I waited 15 minutes for one of these elevators this morning. Come on, gee, it just felt like 15 minutes. You think they'd have them all working, wouldn't you? I mean, with 32 floors and umpteen basements, the elevator system is rather important. They are all working. No, they're not. That one at the end? I've never seen it working yet. Which one? That one at the end. Hasn't even got numbers on it. Well, maybe it's for faith. No. That's all around the back, but it's a delivery base. Come on, come on, come on. And what you're getting so excited about. You could go up the stairs and get some exercise. It's only four floors. Yeah, looks like I'm going to have to. See you tomorrow then. And don't forget five after twelve. Okay. And don't be late. And we've got to get down to the bus moment to pick up those tickets. Don't forget. I'll be here. And you bring your money this time. Okay. Gini, here's one. Gini, this is the one she doesn't know what. I'm sorry, I can't be more helpier, Constable Wood. Well, that's all right, sir. I just thought I'd check. All we know is that Miss Renfield had an appointment at 2.30 with one of our clients. We know she left the office to go to it. She took their files along with her. But she never got there. And she didn't come back here and nobody appears to have seen her since. I just can't imagine what happened. Were the files anything particular? No, no, perfectly routine. I don't think she's run away to blackmail anybody. But it does confirm once more the importance of office routine, doesn't it? I mean, in what way, Mr. Larkin? Never let your files out of the office. You can never tell what's going to happen these days, can you? Anything is possible. Ah, Sergeant, come in Wood. I've got some figures I'd like you to have a look at if you got a minute. All right. Now, these are the figures for last year. There are a number of missing persons reported in Miss Quartet. As a seasonal business, you know, people don't go missing in the winter. They wait for the warmer weather. Yeah, I know. But look at the figures for this quarter. Now, that's-- That doesn't look like much of an increase, but if you work it out as a percentage, the number of people reported missing is quarter, it's gone up by 34%. Now that's a third more people in one quarter. The population has gone up as well, don't forget. Oh yeah, but not by a third. Now look at this. These are all the people that have turned up again. Case is closed, and that hasn't gone up by a third. What's your point? My point is that we seem to have a lot more people going missing and they stay missing. They just don't turn up again. If you work it out on a percentage basis, it's a regular epidemic. Now look, Wood, I know you're new in the department and you want to make a good impression, but don't get carried away. All right? All I asked you to do was to check through the missing person's list and give me an update. Now you know as well as I do, once you start playing with statistics, you can prove almost anything. Sorry, it's so lovely. Look, look, look, I've got a brand new case you can work on just came in this morning. The Ontario provincial police are looking for a young student reported missing and they think she's heading this way. We've had a report from the bus station. Somebody thinks they saw her. I would like to check that out. Between 19 and 25, unmarried, good luck and girl. You know something about this already? Well, no, but if it's the pattern. What pattern? The people that stay missing. Now if you work it out as a percentage, 80% of the people who stay missing are attractive. Unmarried women between the ages of 19 and 25. They're not young girls running away from home. They're not married women running away from a husband and three kids. They're the cream of the crop. I don't tell me constable would. That after only three short weeks in the department, you are actually on the track of our first mass murder. I don't think it's murder. You don't. No. And why is that? Don't the percentages work out on your pocket calculator? No, it's not that. What is it that? We haven't found any bodies, have we? I think if it was homicide, something would have turned up by now. I would have thought so. So that means that somebody is collecting them. Somebody is putting together a collection of young unmarried women and they're doing it in the middle of downtown and they're doing it in broad daylight. Oh. I don't know. Mrs. Cutlet? Mrs. Jeanie. Donna's friend? Oh, I'm fine, thanks. Mrs. Cutlet is Donna's heir. You know, she wasn't into the office this morning. I thought she might be sick or something. Oh, what's your mind? Thanks a lot. Well, is there? She's going to check her apartment. Well, maybe she had a doctor's appointment. No, I'm sure she would have told me. Anyway, I wouldn't take all morning. No, what is? That'll good, too. You get into a doctor's office. You never know when you're coming out. Why are we going to do about these tickets? I don't know. Well, they're 16 bucks a piece. You know, I mean, if she's not telling you, she's-- Hello? She's not. Are you sure? No, no, she was coming home. I'm sure she was. Yes. All right. Fine, I'll let you know if I hear anything. Bye. Oh, what did she say? Donna's bed hasn't been slept in. It looks like she didn't come home from work last night. Maybe she had a date. Donna? I mean, we are talking about Donna, you know. She doesn't go out anywhere with anybody. Why do you think we're taking her to the concert with us? No, I think she's had an accident. Oh, look, I've got to be getting back to work. So are we going to this concert or not? Look, you are not being very helpful. Are you? What do you expect me to do? You could be a bit more sympathetic. About what? When your friend didn't come into work today, so what? And she didn't come home from work last night. I've got to go. Do you want me to get the tickets or not? Yeah, all right. How many? I don't know. I am going to get them now. Do I get two or three? Maybe I shouldn't go. Oh, for God's sake. All right, get two. Right. And I'll meet you here tonight at 6, right? Right. And if Donna turns up, she's out of luck, OK? OK. OK. It's like pulling teeth. Well, I'm worried about Donna. I just know something's happened to her. [MUSIC PLAYING] Come in. Hello, Constable Wood. You back again? Freight so. Have you got a minute? Well, if it's about LM8, I still haven't heard me. Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, it is. I just wonder if you could tell me where or where she was supposed to make the pick up that day? Aw, some architects office downtown, I think it was. Look, I've told the police all this before. All right, I didn't see it in the records. Have you got a manifest or something we could check? February 7th? Right. Well, I'll be in here somewhere. Hello. Let's see February 7th. 7th, February 7th. Ah, excuse me. Here, help yourself. Ah, thanks. Stanley messenger? Yes, man. And where do you want to deliver? Sorry, what was that number again? Right. Well, it'll be this afternoon now. About three o'clock? Right. Well, thank you very much. So, did you find it? Yeah, um, abandonment grew 24th floor medical science is building. Is there where they told the band away from? Well, I guess it must have been. You mind if I use your phone? No, help yourself. Thanks. Oh, yeah, this is Constable Wood of the City Police. Could I speak to Mr. Larkin? Thank you. Mr. Larkin? Hi, I'm sorry. Probably again, sir. This is Constable Wood of the City Police. If you remember, I was in the city yesterday about Miss Renfield. Yeah, well, I was wondering if you could tell me where her 230 appointment was the day she disappeared. If you wouldn't mind telling us again, sir, Dr. Vashinsky, structural genetics. Where's Dr. Vashinsky's office located, exactly, sir? Medical science is building. Oh, yeah, thank you very much, sir. You've been a great deal of help. Can I help you, sir? What? Oh, no, no, I'm just waiting for someone from one of the offices. You coals, sir? No, no, it's this building. It gives me the shivers. That's quite a security system back here. What's it like to have cameras staring at you all day? Doesn't bother me, sir. Quite of my job. Well, you got monitors on every floor. No, sir, just the main lobby in the Medical Sciences section. They've got some very valuable equipment. Now, you should have it on all the floors to use sneaking off lunch early. So how big is the Medical Sciences section? The first ten floors and the three basements. Three basements? What do you need three basements for? Well, that's where the laboratories are. Very tight security down there. Oh, now why is that? No idea, sir. Well, probably someone's a material they use. Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Yeah, I'm good. Ah, there she is. Have a good day. You, too, sir. Jay. Jay over here. What is it? Hi, Rich. I found Mrs. Cutlet again and Donna wasn't home last night. She wasn't in the office today and her supervisor reported it to personnel. She disappeared, Rick. Oh, that's what she had. Okay, okay. Okay. I think you'd better go to the police. Will you come with me? Okay. Thank you. Yeah, hello, missing persons, please. Thank you. I guess my name is Constable Wood. I'm checking out that missing student of yours that she thought might be heading out our way. Yeah, yeah, that's right. Well, we think she was seen at the bus station, but I was wondering if she had any relatives in this area. OIC, will you have an address? Do you know who he works for? Client and Samson. Okay, I'll try that. Thanks a lot. Client and Samson. Client and Samson. Client and Samson. Cleaverger, cleafedlin, clean clipe. Client and Samson. And God, there it is again, 1302 medical sciences building. Constable Wood. Oh, yeah, okay. Yeah, I'll be right there. Yes, sir, can I help you? Oh, no, no. She's the one that wants to see you. Yes, Miss? I think my friend Donna has disappeared. Well, I was supposed to meet her and she didn't turn up and she hasn't been into the office for the last two days. And the guy's phone or land lady and she says she hasn't been home or anything? No, no, no, just a minute. Let's start at the beginning and take it slowly, shall we? This is your friend. from the office that you're worried about? Well, I'm not really my office, but we both work in the same building. And which building is that? The Medical Sciences Building, on Second Street. Amir, would you mind coming into the interview room? It's quieter, isn't it? Sergeant Clement? Good evening, sir. Missing persons? Well, Constable Wood is. Well, he's new, sir. Very keen. I'm sorry, sir. I don't think I quite understand. Yes, I can appreciate that, sir, but. May I say, sir, that I've been in this department for nearly 14 years? And I've never been asked to do anything like this before. Well, I don't have much choice, do I? If those are your instructions. Yes, sir, Constable Wood. Well, I'm not quite sure what I'm going to tell him. Yeah, I could do that. Well, I appreciate you calling me personally, sir, but I. Hello? Hello? God, help us all. Come in. Are you wanted to see me, Sergeant? Yes. Come in, Wood. Close the door. Sit down. What are you doing? I'm a bit confused. Is that right? Welcome to the club. What confusing you, in particular. What's these missing persons that don't turn up again? Oh, yeah. 80% of the female population. I know. No. 80% of those missing are young females. Sorry. Now, I think I know where it is that disappear and it's a government building. What? Well, it all fits. I'm not quite sure why, but it does. A new office building opened down to about six months ago. The medical science is building. It's a big research center, government funds, international connections. What about it? Eleon Yates was making a delivery there the day she disappeared. Linda Renfield, the lawyer, had a 2.30 appointment there the day she disappeared. Now, student from Ontario that was seen at the bus station. Her father works on the 13th floor. Now, maybe that's where she went from the bus station. And I've been talking to a young couple who think their friend Don has just disappeared and guess where she works. The medical science building. Don't fit. And it's a government building. So, what's all that? Anybody is making a collection. It's them. Wood. Are you seriously suggesting that the government is spitterting away young unmarried women? You know how ridiculous that sound? Well, you see, according to the latest statistic. Oh, it's that again, isn't it? You really got your pocket calculator working overtime, haven't you? No, it's not me. It's the United Nations. It's people like that came up with these figures. What figures? The decline in the birth rate. In every country in the Western world, the death rate has overtaken the birth rate. You project that 30 years down the road. You find that the baby boom has turned into a very large group of old age pensioners. And there are no young people that support them. I do please explain yourself. I think they're collecting the most suitable young women they can for genetic research or are all for breeding. Or for producing babies or something. You see, governments taking over the traditional role of the family. Are we talking the end of the world here, Wood? Is that what this is about? Shouldn't you have a long beard and sandal? The placard may be shaved your head. I have never heard such a cock and bull story in my entire life. I think I should turn you over to internal affairs for psychiatric examination. Well, how do you explain it then? Explain what? Why all these young women are disappearing at the medical science is building? I'm taking you off missing persons, Wood. Sergeant, you can't not now. I am Will Can and I bloody well am. Tomorrow morning you report to narcotics. I'll get you on the training program. I can't lead this now. Dammit Wood, you're being promoted. Can't you see that? What for? I haven't done anything yet. Don't you want to be promoted? Sure, but I'd rather see this thing through for the time. Well, you can't. Missing persons has been taken out of our jurisdiction for the next three months. Those are my orders. Your orders at a report to narcotics tomorrow morning and be promoted. Do I make myself absolutely clear? Sweet Jesus, I'm right, aren't I? Listen, Wood. And you just get this straight. They think that you are a very bright young constable who's going to go places. And they think I'm a crusty old sergeant who's going to be retiring on full pension in four years. Do you understand what I am saying? Now you keep your opinions to yourself and get rid of your damn pocket calculator. It's none of our business. Not anymore. I don't believe this. Don't even think about it. And we never had this conversation, okay? It's getting late. Take the rest of the day off. I'll tell them who'll be in tomorrow. All right? Wood? All right. Oh, yeah. Just forget about it. Yeah. Right. Good night. Can I help you miss? No, it's okay. I just left the mail on my desk that was supposed to go out tonight. We'll be in it. Do you have some identification? I'm Jean Parkinson and I work on the fourth floor. Structural genetics, Dr. Vyszynski's office. The medical section? Then you should have an identification card with your picture on it. Oh, yes. Sorry. I've never had to use it before. There you are. Miss Jean Parkinson. Thank you, Miss. I'm afraid the staircases are all locked now. Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking the elevator? No, I don't mind. But you could die waiting for those things. I'll switch the service elevator on for you. Thank you. There you go. So that's what this one is. Have you ever seen it working before? It's fully automatic. You did say fourth floor. Yeah, that's right. Oh, good night, miss. It's going down. Now I'm not going down. I'm going up. Oh, my God. Help! Help! Somebody help me! We're going to help you. Help! Help! Somebody help! Excuse me. Yes, sir. What can I do for you? I'd like to speak to Constable Wood. I don't think I know that name, sir. Well, you have to. My girlfriend and I were here talking to him a couple of days ago. Constable Wood. You're sure that was the name? Well, I think so. Maybe you can tell me what it was in connection with. My girlfriend came in to report a friend of hers who had gone missing. Ah, that would be missing person. Yeah. Anyway, I tried to call her yesterday and nobody seems to know where she is. I think she's disappeared. Now look, but I'd really like to speak to Constable Wood. The man you want to talk to is Mr. Fields of our special service as division. He handles all the missing persons now. But just hang on. I'll see if he's available. Okay. Thanks. Excuse me. Yes, sir. Can I help you? Are the officers closed? That all depends. Who do you want to see? Dr. Vyszynski. The man from my last interview said I should be at the medical sciences building at 7 o'clock this evening. Another interview, I guess. You are Ms. Barbara Fielding? Right. They're expecting you. This way, Miss. I hope this interview goes better than the last one. Why do they ask some weird questions? You must have given them the right answers, so you wouldn't be here now, would you? No, I guess not. Looks to work, does this Dr. Vyszynski do? It sounds kind of spooky. Spooky? Well, how often do you have to go for an interview in an empty building? I'm sure the doctor will explain it to you, Miss. There you go. Step inside. Thank you. Good night. Good night, Miss. Mind the doors. Some evils that would seem don't even have to be all that well guarded to survive. Here's Mr. Hunt, with the names of those involved in tonight's show. Private collection was written by Warren Graves. On the cast we heard Graham McPherson as Constable Wood, Tom Peacock as Sergeant Clement, Judith Navy as Jean, Joe Dyke as Donna, Stephen Walsh as Rick, with Len Crowther as the Security Guard. The lawyer was played by David Lorrainey, Barbara Fielding by Nicole Evans, and the manager of the Messenger Service by Gordon Merriott. The sound engineer was Al Lamden, with sound effects by Dean Purvis, production assistant Barbara Gault, script editor, Ruth Fraser. Private collection was produced and directed in Edmonton by Laurie Selleckman, executive producer for the series Don Kowalshack. And now your host, join us next week for the hit by Vancouver writer Lawrence Gough, who was directed by John Giuliani. Until then, I'm Frederick Hent for Nightfall. I'm Session. She's so frantic, a word that splits the good and the bad. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, if you please. Beneficient on the de-staff and terror, yes, even a murderer of the earth. This is the story of a question of personality, starring Don DePore. A man may get sick in many different ways, ways that sometimes leave no scar, at least, not physical scar. This is the story of such a man, his name, but person, occupation, police detective. There is no breath that can exact the moment when his unusual story began, no writer to break his story down into numbered chapters. However, that moment when he stood before his doctor, tense, nervous, waiting to be dismissed from a rest home after what the doctor's called, "Norristina," a nervous breakdown. That was the moment when the first germ was conceived of Session. Oh, my presence, so you're all back and ready to go, huh? That's right, Doc. Bag's packed, and everything tidy up, including my nervous breakdown. Now, my question, remember, we're not to think about that. We're all better now, huh? We're all better. Doc, your technique's much better than the Night Nurses. Well, from now on, no more detective, so it's patient. Oh, too much criticism. What, Doc? I was going to recommend you to all my friends on the fourth one they had their breakdown. Well, in that case, I reversed my decision. Well, Doc Keener, it's really been nice. Thank you, Doc. I wondered if you thought of that thing that was bothering you. Oh, a vent? Sorry. No life. You know, I really wish you'd stay here a few more weeks, considering that you're the feet, Doc. I don't blame you. Well, haven't you heard that a laddage charging one up and they're bound to think you're good? Wished the police forth worked on that principle? You complaining about being a detective? Why, I thought you were the man who ate fingerprints for lunch. Yeah, and we just about get paid off in the Christmas buttons and shoelaces. Well, if the bill is more than-- No, no. I got to do it for it. But that ranch I've been wanting looks pretty far off. Man, you'll get it. Yeah, maybe. Another year in the force would do it, I guess. Remember your promised McPherson? Oh, yeah. The detective work is out. But why? Because you broke down and had to come here when you wiped out. Okay. Well, she's dead. A part of me died with her. But that's over. I'm better now. The rest of me has got to keep living. See, I'm a detective. It's all I've got. McPherson's detective work is out. But why? Because of that vague feeling you still have that feeling of having done something wrong. The psychiatrist speaks. That's what I get for spilling my dreams and that couch yours. That's what you get for being a great detective. Well, you should have been modest and say nothing. I'll tell you I don't know what the devil you're talking about. All right, McPherson. Why do you think you're a great detective? I have thinkin'. Any of those two-bit crooks? What do you mean, I'll think? I'll think. Oh. I have thinkin'. What's simple? I put myself in their place and figure out what any criminal would do. Huh. Even a criminal like La Grosso? How do you know about him? Well, the couch is my detective. The couch and your dreams. I have learned a lot about him like the Harry. Well, so what if you have? Half the boys in the forest are bored hearing me talk about him. So Grosso, Peter La Grosso, 1612 to 1667. One of the most famous crook of operators in history. Murder, stole, poisoned, tortured, kidnapped Blackmail. And bezel from the age of 10 odd. Name it and he did. I know more about him than any professor of history. Probably more than anyone in the world. He hated his father. He had a scar on his thumb, received by climbing a wall with broken glass on top of it. He had a person. Huh? Why is he always on your mind? Why is not? Even in your dreams? Well, why shouldn't he be? He's my hobby. He's my realization. He's more than that. All right. He's made me well. He's made me a good detective. I know his every thought. I can put myself in his place and figure out what he'd do any time in a place. And I was putting myself in his place that taught me how to outthink those cheap little mugs who commit crimes without brains to get away with them. It was putting yourself in a gross house placed at put you here. Or dark. You better stay away from that couch. Huh. Good technique, my person. Nothing like a joke to stop someone from telling the truth, huh? Talk, talk, or a head. A man can't think like a criminal and behave like a detective. You're a good man trying to think like an evil one. And the conflict will twist your brain in half. True and timely different halves that fight each other. That's why you had to come here. I was sick. But first, what might have happened before you came here? I don't know, but I do know that under pressure, those two halves might get confused. You might not be able to tell them apart. Oh, yes, I can. Look, Rosalew. You speak to the Nutella Nyxin. Ah, that's right, my person. And he did on the couch. Don't go back to the police for a seduct set. Remember, there are things you don't even remember. So you stand as long as you can, living in a hotel room, staring out at the empty brick walls of the city. Going down to the hotel lobby and talking to the same people who are just as bored as you are, reading the same papers every day, even to the advice of their love-loan column, and thinking so much of a little ranch you want that you can't stand it anymore. And finally, finally you're right to the one man who can make it all possible. And then almost hold your breath till he sends for you. Hello, my person. Come in. What's about it, Chief? Serving quit while you were away? No, I sent him out. I wanted to talk to you alone. Oh. Well, it was nice of you to see me at your apartment. Was it? Or wasn't it? That depends. On what? Whether you think that my refusing your request to come back on the force is pleasant. Refusing my-- Oh, why? Because I'd like to give you a break, but not at my expense. Well, you're talking in riddles. You better come with a point. I was away when you were mixed up in the steward case. You're forgetting it, ain't you? The steward case? Your mouth is open. Shut it. A lot. I wasn't on the ball that night. I was sick. My wife died. The boys must have told you I was framed. No, no. Now that's a new story. I heard different. You were left to guard that jewelry. And I did. And the servant heard some guy with an accent talking in the room with you. I tell you whoever the guy was, must have sat me. Knock me out. I woke up with my head misleading. Yeah. And later your buddy slipped the stuff to you, and we found it where you hid it in your home. Broke cheap. I tell you I'm clean. Maybe the DA was sucker enough to let you clear and account of your wife, a need and dull. But I'm not going to have anyone on the force. Oh, I swear. I don't know what happened except I didn't do it. Broke, please. Go give me a break. Just give me one more year. Oh, cut it. Don't weep on my shoulder, blue thirds stains. Thanks. I suppose you told him this down at the force. No, no matter the fact, they all expect you to report back. But that isn't the way it's going to be. No. No? That isn't the way it's going to be. I run a police force, not the Salvation Army. And one more thing. What? Cut my throat. Do you want your pleas about that? But stay out of the private eye business. What should I do for a living? Shine shoes. A better not. The way I feel now, I might have my boys run you in. Who do you think you are? Some almighty saying noonself. Now, a wipe of fly off the earth. Make it scum and you're right. Well, I'm no scum and you're no. Get back your breathing in my face. Jesus, get up and get out of here before I push you through that wall. You are pushing me. You are closer. Get out. Answer me. Get out. You bummed you in your pony-axen. I don't know. You put that gun back, McBurton, or else. One more. One more. You're a giant action. That guy in the room. You. That version. You. You should call me. Senior Lagrasso. But now. Now she's too late. Lieutenant McBurton. Lieutenant! How far? You want me? Lieutenant McBurton. Glad you're back with us. I guess you heard what happened. No, I haven't. I had a splitting headache last night. I don't know what had happened. I was supposed to see the chief and instead. I was supposed to see the chief. Instead, I woke up in my room at 12 sitting at an armchair. You. You were supposed to see the chief. Yeah, sure. Hey, hey, what's the matter? He's down to me that way, for. Oh, I'm sorry, Mac. But the chief. I guess I might somebody shot him to death. You what? Yeah, that's a crummy joke. No, it's true, Mac. Inspector wants to talk to you about it right away. What for? What for? Why is putting you on the case, of course. I'm going to work with you. Oh, uh, my name's Wilson. Oh, yeah? Well, come on, Wilson, we. We got a murder to solve. [BELL RINGING] A murder to solve? Well. What are you waiting for, Wilson? Could it be there are several latent suspicions kicking around in your mind regarding, Mac? Could it be that you have a vague idea as to his double personality in the frame of Skit-So-Franick? And realize somewhat of his strange obsession. [BELL RINGING] And again, story, or rather a question of personality, starting down to four. [BELL RINGING] The Mr. Hyde of Doctor Chikol's personality shot and killed his own chief during a strange and violent reign. Afterwards, his mind was that of a blackboard erasure, and he wandered about aimlessly. pondering the warning and lackluster words of a psychiatrist who had talked of that knifeless separation of Skit-So-Franick. Split personality. One half good, the other half good. That morning, reporting back to duty, Mac first encountered the shock of being assigned to a case of Skit-So-Franick murder. And as he stood once more in the apartment, the red of the murdered man's blood became the high-pitched, complete, terrible, and murderous obsession. [BELL RINGING] Look at this place. Hey, must have been pushing each other around to mess this up by half this way. No. Mac, maybe look at the body yet. And after seeing he still looks as though he has heartburned. But it wasn't a bad guy. It seems funny to. Mac, what's that? Huh? You're in the corner. Badge. And Mac, it's a detective badge. Well, I put you at the head of the class. 302. Hey, that's my number. Well, here's your man. I must have dropped the house looking around. You were in that corner, man. You're crazy, you're crazy. Pardon me, sir, but the police now says that you wanted to see me. Oh, yeah. Are you Eddie, the houseboy, who found the body? Yes. I'll tell you a little. Eddie, tell me. Do you remember hearing any of them might have come from this apartment? Well, I was working a party upstairs, so I had to go by the door a couple of times. Yes, sir. I heard him talking with a man with a funny voice. What was funny about the voice? Well, I don't know exactly, sir. It was kind of like a. like a italian accent. Oh, no. Okay, you can go, but wait around outside the door. Yes, I'll be around. I'll work here. So, you almost found me out, Wilson. And it wasn't over. Not by a long shot. I was a murderer. A scientist revealed his own crime. Still, I had no one leak committed at the party. So why should I be punished for it? I went on pretending to do my job, looking for the killer everywhere. Or just about everywhere. But day by day, I knew my partner was growing more and more impatient. I knew that pretty soon, he'd start wondering about things. Maybe mention finding my badge to the inspector. I decided there was only one thing to do. I went over to see Jack O' Martin at his nightclub. Hello, Martin. Well, slap-foot McPherson. You'd be glad to see me. I've been quite a while. As it. I don't miss cops. What do you want, Mack? Not much. Just want to give one of your boys some work. Huh? Out of the cloud that you're talking in the dark. Listen, Bug, I made a mistake. And you're gonna fix us so I can go on like it didn't happen. Otherwise, while I know enough to fix it. Oh, no. You're not gonna make me jump and squire me. Okay, Marty. But you will when they put a rope around your neck. So low. Hey, wait a minute, Mack. Who's it got? His name is Wilson. And I can send him any place you say. Okay, Mack. Make it that empty warehouse out of '96, three to ten o'clock shop. Hello? Wilson? It's me, McPherson. Oh, yeah, Mack, what up? I'm on to something hot. But it goes in two directions. About the case? What else? Listen, I have a line in someone who had a beef against the chief. Well, what's holding this up? Just that I also got a call from some stooly. He says to meet him up at that empty warehouse on '96. Two breaks. Oh, that's great, Mack. I can check the guy with a beef while you see the. Oh, no, no, no, no. I think you'd better go to the warehouse. I'll handle the other. Well, what do you say? What do I do up there? Ten o'clock, Wilson. Ten o'clock. Sharp. Ten o'clock, I said. And at ten o'clock, as the door to that darkness opened, I would be at home with no less than a police inspector. As my anaphy. Everything was ready. At 18, the inspector was due. But eight o'clock came in no inspector. Eight thirty in study wasn't there. I began to get friendly. I needed somebody with me. Somebody who'd swear I was home with Wilson. Wilson got it. I started making calls. Everybody. Everybody I knew. Then Hoffman, Bill Malford, Malone. But my luck was running out. I couldn't locate a single one of them. And then, and then when I put down the phone and desperation, something happened. Something that seemed like a best thing in the world. Hello? My fearsome? Yeah. How's this? Dr. King. I'm down in the lobby. I was just wondering if I could run up and see you for a few minutes. King. And the Dr. King? Hey, that's wonderful. Yeah, of course. Come on up. I hope you don't mind my dropping by. I had to come into town for the weekend. You're going to come in a better time. Have you been working at anything? No, no, no. Just kind of taking it easy. Like you said, good. Glad to hear it. I. Mac, why are you wearing that shoulder holster? Oh, holster? Well, I guess, for a real time, sake. Just a habit. Mac, I'm your doctor. I'm working for you. I'm a doctor. I promise you that I will be your back on the force. On my word of honor, I mind if I'm not right. - Look at your coat. - No, but what? I thought you'd have it. Huh. A badge, Penn, to your coat. - A detective's badge. - All right. All right. I'm back in the forest, so what about it? Mac, do you remember what I told you could happen under a string? You've got to quit. When I finish one more year, be sizable. Because if you don't, look Doc. Supposing I did start talking with that accent once, I'm not sure. I'll say that string you're gab about. You want to know what had happened? Well, I couldn't say almost anything. Anything that other personality, that other half of you would do. There are so many things in psychiatry. Yeah, but could it be a new pattern of life? I doubt it. Once the chasm, the void between the two personalities, has been bridged. Yeah, but why should a man, someone who never looked out, Doc, I don't believe it. It doesn't have to happen again. The other mind has found the path and the bridge has been constructed. That will happen again. Then eventually, a man would crack again, end up in that place of yours with stone wall around it. Yeah, that could happen. Or the other personality could become dominant. The conscious one. Me, look first. Not a guy with an Italian accent. I believe that if the other mind was strong enough to subdue yours once or twice, it would do it again and again. Yeah, and I'd spend the rest of my life on it, hiding never a second when I'm not going to look behind me. Mack, I don't mean to upset you this way. Nothing's happened after all. I still don't hear any trace of an Italian accent. There's no way back. Right? I guess I-- I wanted a little ranch too much. Mack, there must be something wrong. Why not tell me? Doc, what time is it, huh? Oh, 9.30. Why? Everybody there. I'm sorry, Doc. I got to leave. There's something I got to do. Mack, why are you going? Mack. [MUSIC PLAYING] Over and up. There must be another door. This must be a-- hey, who's ever in here? You that's supposed to be in Wilson. Oh, my Italian's all off. It's off. Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! [MUSIC PLAYING] Oh! Mack, the ambulance will be here in a minute. So shall I. But you see, kid, that's how it happens. Just a slight case of lead poisoning. Those bullets were meant for me. Yeah? Yeah. But the right guy got them. Mack, why did you rush in that way? Why? Why? I don't know, kid. I guess I just didn't want that. That ran so much after all. You see, I-- you see, Mack. Mack, you're going to be all right. You're going to be all-- Yeah, Mack. You're all right now. [MUSIC PLAYING] You have been listening to Obsession. [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] [MUSIC PLAYING] I am superstition of God surviving all other gods created by man. My power is supreme. My rule endless. My disciples everywhere. I demand unhesitating obedience and will favor the fortunes of those submissive to my commands. You don't believe? Listen to the story of the newlyweds. [MUSIC PLAYING] Mono, boy, that's an uproarning plan. Oh, OK. [INAUDIBLE] [INAUDIBLE] Yeah, yeah, I hear the sun. At the time you were dry and hike back the camp, I guess the girls will have dressed and got breakfast ready. Oh, beat me to the ham and eggs and plenty coffee to the biscuits must be brown and hot. Hey, buddy, buddy, next, next on the yodel. Gee, can I follow saying? I'm not before breakfast. You know the old saying, sing before breakfast, cry before night. Oh, man, that's a silly superstition. They usually do, but this one is different. The word, "he wear, sing ye not before ye break fast, lest they be weeping our night," are described to Simon Vard Jonah, a follower of Jesus, and were supposed to be a warning, referring to the practice of the early Christians to sing or chant at the break of day after a night of discourse, prayer, and fasting. Their raised voices betraying their secret meeting places to their Roman persecutors, which goes to show that a saying handed down to us from past generations finally ends up by becoming a meaningless superstition. You wouldn't call it meaningless if you had had my experience. When Melda and I were on our honeymoon abroad, what'd he hear it? Yeah, really? [INAUDIBLE] Well, I won't go over the whole trip just that part with the singing jinx in it. It happened in Naples, our first stop in Italy. We'd stayed overnight at the Victor Emmanuel, and got up at break of day the next morning to get an early train for Rome. I was hustling to get the bags packed while Melda was getting dressed. I really thought I was some fast worker, until I heard Melda'd say. Are you nearly ready, George? Almost there. You better step on a little one if you want to leave with me. Well, I'm way ahead of you. I've been ready for some time and waiting. My era, pardon me, was you a blette? Press the button for the bell, how thin will you? I already did. I'm a fossil, slow-pork guy, want my breakfast. All right, slave driver. Say, wouldn't it be a calamity if they had no diner on this Naples to Rome train? You can take it the most. Um, flam! There we are. I'll pack it on our way. Well, good night, Naples. I'll feel the same for Zubia's old man. Haven't seen anything of you except from the hotel window. But the senior and I will double back later and we'll have a good look at you. Say all of all, but not about-- You're a geoderma, son. - What's the fuss, sweetheart? - It's going to be fun, lucky. Sing before breakfast, cry before night. Oh, all right, Mrs. Supristation. I'll recite then. Was the night before Christmas and all through the house? Who did that? Body next door, it doesn't like your recitation. Maybe he doesn't believe in sati-clothes. All right, I'll sing. Say all of all. - I'll touch your eyes. - Touch your eyes. Wake up when the hotel. The poor order will be here any minute now for our bags. There he is. Ah, along son from Minio Lavon. It's French stupid. We're in Italy now. CC Mia Carisma. How's that? Hey, listen. Another crack from you next door and I'll sing the star's fangle banner. I guess I will any help. Oh, hey. We'll be clown. Let's go. All right, boss. But I shall return and demand. Say what's revenge in Italian? Well, I know. Rocha. Come play. Rocha. That's German. See, you frightened the porter with your ruckus and dramatic. [laughs] [applause] Ah, this is the light. Hey, what, mate? It's glorious, George. Just saying, eating your breakfast while seeing Italy from a fast-moving train. Mm, can't be, babe. Are you glad you got up early? Yes. But you and sister are waiting the whole hotel. But, George, we must go back again and see Naples thoroughly. And Pompeii. We will, my sweet. We only left early today, you know, to shake that admire of yours who met on the bouquet from Marseille. Wasn't he the nuisance? If he obnoxious old clerk, he didn't seem to realize that I had a big, good-looking husband with me. Well, you stopped. Well, he found out, didn't he? You really worked furious, darling. I never saw you so piti before. I wanted a knock his block off. I guess you would have if the other passengers hadn't stopped you. Well, thank goodness we left him behind. Well, George, look quick. A plane racing with a train. I'm breathing it only half-trying. Looks like a government plane. When we go back to Naples, George, let's fly back, yes? You should have your wish, my dear. Well, breakfast over. I feel a song coming on. All right, now, isn't it Mrs. Superstition? No, don't call me that. George, I'm not a bit superstitious. No? Hmm. Only when I sing, huh? Before breakfast? Yes. It never fails. Well, I'm still loving, darling. Don't boast, unbeliever. The day is still young. [LAUGHS] Where's the train? It's stopping. Is this Rome already? What can't be? Not for hours, yes. Will it come to the doctor? Let's ask you. Let's not the conductors, please. That chap looks like one of Mussolini's military, all select and spurred her to sing. Judge James, sing your ear, your gist and clarity, sing your rina. Pardon me, yeah. I'm looking for Mr. George Sing Claire and wife. What? George, he means that. Well, I guess you're looking for us, General. Thank you. I am police sergeant Farad. I am sorry to interrupt your trips in your, but I am requested by my government to escort you and your wife back to Napoli. Well, that's my fine of you, but what's the big idea? You will be good enough to come without delay. We have an aeroclaim waiting. Let me get this straight. Are you arresting us by any chance? It is my unpleasant duty. Can you be there? Hello, General. I'm in sergeant. Where are Americans, my wife and I? Please hurry. The American Council, Mr. Barrett, we look after your interests in Napoli. What's the charge? There is no official charge until after the inquest. Inquest? Mr. Sing Claire, I arrest you in the name of the Italian government on suspicion of complicity in the murder of the Austrian diplomat Baron Ulrich van Stegen. [Ban Stegen] Your story is quite satisfactory to me, Mr. Sing Claire, and I can appreciate your indignation at your enforced detention. However, here at the consulate, you are practically on American soil and under the protection of your country's flag. The anthem to which you so patriotically offered to sing to the murdered diplomat that I've already told you, Mr. Barrett, that I didn't know the party next to our room and the hotel was a diplomat. A murdered one of that. I was joshing with my wife, and I thought the chap's wronged next door were a protest to my clowning. That's perfectly clear. I hope that you will be able to convince the police that you did me that those foreign threats you uttered against your neighbor as reported by the hotel father were merely present as buffoonry. That's all. By a quick of coincidence, Raja, the word you used, was also the word the assassin had scribbled on the card attached to the dagger, which had stabbed the burden to the heart. That's funny. Raja and a couple more like "Vegate" than Dalvita Zane, or about the only German words I know. Of course, your previous encounter with the murdered man on the boat, your heated argument with him, your almost physical violence to his person, after the police waited if circumstantial evidence of your guilt. Well, I told you what happened, and certainly he had become such an insulting pest with his unsolicited attention to your wife, that you thought of beating to be the only cure for him. That was my settlement's consul. I hope the police haven't overlooked anything. Well, your hasty departure at an early hour this morning naturally looks to them as the flight of a guilty assassin. The funny part is that we wouldn't even have stayed the night out. Had my wife known that our neighbor in the hotel last night was the chap we were trying to get away from. Just so. You realize, of course, Mr. Sinclair, that your unfortunate predicament is a serious one. However, your consulet will look after your interests. According to international law, I am responsible for your appearance at the infest. You understand, of course. Meaning that I have to stay here until the infest, after which the government will discharge or hang me for the murder of the Baron von Stagen. Well, you'll be in no position! I don't see my fingers! They don't hang them in that country, they shoot them! Well, as you see, they didn't either. Well, how did you get out of it? We didn't even have to wait for the inquest. They caught the real assassin in the meantime. Some half-witted fanatic. But you read all about the case, I guess. Anyhow, Mildred and I had a wonderful stay with the Baron. Got many apologies and passes all over the Italian railroads and so forth. And all ended happily. But I've never been able to convince Mildred that my singing. "Joy! You! Rats! Yeah, that was one more thing. One more gift for me! Oh, here goes! Oh, here goes! Oh, here goes! Come on in! The worst fight! Hey, hey, young fella! Oh, here's bad news coming. See you, Star. Hello, officer. What's wrong? I suppose you can't read, eh? Oh, little. Want something, Red? No, don't get comical with me. This link's posted. No swimming allowed. Get that! We're not swimming. No, but your friend is. Didn't get here in time to catch the fella here. Come on, I'll fill the cell about to talk with you. What's the matter, sir? I don't be seven-me young fella. I ain't a share of you. But I'll introduce you to him. Come on, I'll put on your clothes. I have the flavor of the road. I would see here. These fellas were the water too. Oh, go on. I never wanted to swim in my life. Oh, all right. All right. I'll be the gold. And funny. Wouldn't have known you was here. Only I heard you say. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. Now where you believe? You see, Phil, it never fails. Well, it's travel boys. So uncomfortable. Better luck next time. We'll see you later, Phil. We'll be offering him up there too, and bail you out. Come on, you fella. I am superstition. You don't believe. Do you? [laughs] [music] [music] [music] [music] The American Broadcasting Company presents At No Back for hire. [music] Sure I'm Pat Novex for hire. [music] I got a couple of bolts down on Pier 19 on the San Francisco Waterfront. Sometimes I ran them out, but I found out it's easy to keep my budget healthy by risking my health in other ways. So I work around doing our jobs. You can take that anyway you like. Not the best you can say for it is that it beats begging. At least you don't always limp. If you're lucky and you can keep a half lap ahead of the billcollikers if you don't let it go to your head. I did once. I helped a guy who owned seven hotels, convinced a blonde in San Rafael that her memory wasn't that good after all. The payoff was too rich for my blood. I got the idea that with that kind of money I could take over the gambling joints up around Lake Tahoe. I took him three days to show me I was wrong. I'd worked my way down from the gold plated joints to a place called the Broken Tea where they still recognized a dollar as currency. I was beginning to figure how long it had taken me to walk back to the bay when the health came along. He was a little guy on the pair of eyes I wouldn't trust with anything I wanted again. A kind of quiet dark clothes that would make it easy to get lost in an alley. He knew him. Well no back. That doing so hard, eh? I need you. You want to make a quick buck? There must be a reason. Tell me that first. I'm hot. I shift the wheels down for a flock of dough. You call that trouble? Not yet. But I'd like to look ahead. How do I know these guys like it that I got all their money? If it hurts you give it back they'll take it. I got a better idea. I want to take it down to San Francisco. Look, clocker owns a Southern Pacific. They got an urge to travel talk to him. They got a proposition spread it off. I'm driving down that's a lonely road. And what you'd go along is a bodyguide. If these guys are out to hijack your roll, two of us won't stop many more than one. They come in bunches when they want to. You want the job? Are you going to talk me out of it? Oh, I don't know. But you want the bucks. You charge a lot for a ride. You said it's risky. Remember? Okay. It's 50. You get the rest in San Francisco. I see outside the five minutes. My name is Brown. I'll be waiting in my car. Brown, huh? Yeah, brown. John Brown. Want to make some money? Oh, can you? He was a quiet guy. We drove along for a couple of hours and you could have repeated all he said on one deep breath. I kept watching the cars along the road waiting for the muscle boys to show up for nothing happened. Pretty soon I got the feeling that they weren't after him at all. I guess you'd seen too many movies. I finished off a pack of cigarettes as we got down out of the mountains and got him to stop at a roadside joint for reloads. He wouldn't leave the car so I was all alone when the girl came up to me at the bar. You're going down to San Francisco? Something like that. You got room for me. How far you going? Got to pen, who I'm with. You might be handy at that. Cars without a heater. I don't have the owners. So you'll keep one hand on the wheel. So you better ask the guy who does. He's sitting out in the car. Why don't he come in? Well, build him up so fast I get a car too. Where'd you get it? Still it? You sell a medical insurance, maybe. Why? You're gonna need it if you keep elbowing into my face. Speaking of elbows, what do you mean trying to muscle in on my day? Are you two together? Yeah, why? That's why I've been wondering. Why? So long, sucker. What do you make it up? I'd say you're up. You don't have to slide. You ought to blame for this. Yeah. Tomorrow I'm gonna make it rain. I can start a storm right now. Right ahead you've got the wind. You're cool to nice to change your what started back. Bad habits. Yeah. Too many cigarettes. I guess I didn't have to hit the guy, but I was all geared up over the ride. I had to take it out on somebody. Outside the air was cold and clear. A river made soothing noises in the darkness. I figured it'd be an easy night from then on in. But the ground was having the fidgets. Come on Novak, let's get going. Where's the name? What name? One came out here, my hitchhiker, well the ride to town. I didn't see any name. Come on let's go. Oh that's clear. What's clear? Let's go, let's go. Suddenly you're nervous, what's the matter? Well I need a doctor Novak. I know where to find one. Yeah. You can you find one whose shakes synchronize with yours. Otherwise you're gonna have a tough time with your pulse. From there on into town John Brown didn't say a word. When we came across the Bay Bridge he stopped in the terminal and made a phone call. Now we drove up to his place, a big corner apartment house up near the civic center. He told me to wait in the car while he went in to put away the money. I sat and smoked cigarettes and watched the dawn begin to light up the long empty streets. I must have been there a half an hour before anything happened. And then it all began to happen at once, starting with Helmen. A homicide detected with a grudge against the world that he takes out on me. I hope it didn't keep you waiting Novak. I'll catch out of bed Helmen. Can't be insomnia that takes conscience. You'd be the sort to know about that. And if I look at Caravan? Why not? I didn't steal Island. I prefer Roads to John Brown. Now there's a name. Where have I heard that before? That's a foreign name. Polish I think. That's not where I heard it. It was broadcast in connection with a stolen car. Try again. The keys. So maybe he was careless and left his keys in his car. Yeah maybe I'm whimsical and jazey my name to Brown. Go on Helmen you can't put anything on me. Now give me the keys. What for? I'm looking in the trunk. We got a tip. Not on this crate. We just got in from Tahoe. Nobody knows where you're here. Sure sure. And if you're blind here and I guess there's nothing in the trunk either. Now I'll bite. What you find? A body? A girl's body. I'm not intruding am I? Not on me. You better get Brown. He's in the apartment there. Sure. But won't you be lonely? Look. Brown hired me to ride down from Tahoe with him. He cleaned up at the tables and water protection for his role. It's his car and his girl. Let's get him. All right come on. Now Brown listed. Nervous. Upset. Maybe you need a rest. Framed. Sure somebody else did it. Shame on them. Come on over. The girl was a pickup at Hitchhiker. Why did he kill it? I got a better question for you. Where can I get a lawyer? I saw a person with a body. Let's look it over. Don't tell me you didn't rob her too. The purse didn't turn up much. Some keys. A little mad money. Makeup stuff. A letter to Alice Stone with an address out in the Petrero district. The letter was no good just a guy trying to patch up a split. By the hunch that Brown must have known Alice. I was the only way to killing made sense. I needed to get some dope on Brown. I needed to know about Alice. Helmen took Brown's address off of registration card and I couldn't see whether it helped me or any. No one had seen it as together all the way down from Tahoe. Even if Brown were picked up he could swear he'd never seen it before. The car list of the stolen was a cinch to prove it. Now I needed help bad. So I started looking for my old friend Jaco Madigan. An ex-doctor turned boozer who had more connections around town than the water department. I ran him down in a trap on Elis Street trying to hold back the recession and liquor sales. Hello, pets in my boy. Join me in. This is the first one today. Look I'm in trouble, Jaco. You're in trouble. Think how I feel. What's about his sick? No, just worried. I was reading in the paper here that the good ship Clyde Harris went down off the New England coat last night with 10,000 cases of a scotch on board. And there's some left. Listen Jaco, I'm in a jam. When did that become news? I was up at Tahoe and a guy hired me to drive him down here. He didn't know you. It turns out the car is stolen. There's a buddy in it. Oh, guys disappeared. I don't blame him. Body belonged to a girl named Alice Stone. There's a dress. 10,000 cases of scotch. Can you imagine that? The way I figure it, the girl must have known the killer. I'm not very sure that John Brown, who claimed his car was stolen, is innocent either. Might as straight as he left the car keys lying around. What'd you want me to do? Get on the grapevine. I know that this John Brown was tied up in the rackets, the same for Alice Stone. I know that they ran around with each other. Whatever you can about him. All right, Pat, you bet you'll have to wait. I've got to catch up on my drinky first. Can't you lay off this stuff for a little while? You telling me how to live my life again? You who consult with murderers, car thieves, and women of dubious ways? Push the bottle over here. Look, Jacko. See if you can put the finger on a neat little guy with a pair of con man's eyes. Black hair, toy mustache, and dresses like dapper Dan. About 150 pounds. Imagine you trying to tell me how to live. You who've got more bad habits than a dope prince convention. My guy goes for dark expensive clothes. He doesn't talk much and I say has to. When I drink, I get the hangover. All you have to do is breathe regularly and troubles all over town. You had any social conscience, you'd go somewhere and hang yourself. I can't understand how I tolerate having you around. You get a line on the guy for me? From the way you described him it ought to be a laydown cinch. There's only about 10,000 men in town who fit that description with a hundred or so of him being out. I want one. That's a long gamble. But try, will you, Jacko? Imagine that with the ocean full of ships hauling Guano, bones, cattle, oil, lumber, pineapple, sugar, old newspapers, and gunny sex. The one boat that has to sing. Will you get on it? There's no hurry. It's only you at state. So long, lover. My grab some breakfast picked up a cab and went out to the address of Alice Stone. It matched a wooden house that looked two years older in Utah that was trying to lie about it with a new plaster front and a fresh set of door knobs. Looks like it had been built by an amateur who read the blue prints upside down. But they answered the door. She was about to type in the hide. It was six footer and she had red hair. The heavy, wavy kind of made you think she must be healthy. That wasn't hard to do anyway. The way she filled out her morning coat didn't leave much to worry about except the scenes. She could talk to a neighbor who had been proving. You know Alice Stone? Sure, she lives here. I'm out of known, she's here first. Where are you? My name's Gip Harper and Alice isn't home. What can you do with that? I don't know, I want to. Maybe I'm a salesman. You're a lucky minister. You aren't fooling anybody. You look about as much like a salesman as I do a decoy deck. Now, what do you want with Alice? Oh, you have to be particular. I can't use her. She's dead. Her salesman. With five o'clock shadow attempt. You say dead. Yeah. They found her in a car downtown this morning. You're a cop. You're wrong. Why should it worry you? What do you mean? You know who did it? I don't know anything. I just don't like jam. Tell me how it happened. We were coming down from Tahoe. She was in the roadside hamburger trap. She asked me for a ride and I sent her out to talk to a guy who owns the car. The next time I saw her, she was tucked away in the trunk. Why'd a guy kill her? Just like that. That's what I'm after. Maybe just in like James. There's probably a better reason. You think maybe you knew her? Yeah. That's where you can earn a gold star. Did you know anybody by the name of John Brown? Just cry of them. He was playing the field at the broken tee up near Tahoe. Smooth little guy about two sizes over a jockey. Wikes mustas, the pair eyes he could use of freeze fish. Yeah. Wow. That one. All right. I know. Give me an introduction. His name's Brown. All right. I didn't know his first name before. He's a small time hustler around town. He used to take Alice out now and then when he felt like tearing up a nightclub. Cops are estimate. Helm and the homicide dick is knocking on his door about now. I don't expect him to be home. No. He won't stay. He had tied up. Name some of him. I'm afraid too. He can't hurt you. He's too busy playing cops and robbers. You don't know Brown. I got a gift in the home. Give. I don't want to get mixed up in anything. Neither do I, but I am. I need Brown. Why don't you say yes, Brown? I'd be bad manners. That's wrong with bad manners. I know some that are fun. Yeah. You would. You'd be fun and Brown or I would show you. You keep he was. Come here. Will this keep you a thing? You have a nice way of changing the subject. Let's still, where's Brown's hideout? I won't tell you. Look at me. Now that's a gamble. I'm on the spot. That's a fact. Talk to me. I hate men. Never mind your hobby. Give me Brown. I hate you. You're big ugly muscle-bound. Brown. You're hurting me. Make me stop. Tell me where Brown is. I'll check out near the beach. No, it's not. Let go. I'm telling you. But I hope it's a last thing you hear. From Skips Place out to the beach wasn't much of a drive. I went up and over Twin Peaks, watching the city and the bay spread out beneath the road like a giant map. The sun was working for the Chamber of Commerce that day and the whole region was glowing. Every backyard was full of clothes blowing in the wind. It was a highway near the beach. It began to turn up bunches of kids on the way to cash in on the weather. John Brown's hideaway was one of those old pioneer shacks built out near the ocean of the old days by guys who wanted to get away from it all. Was painted a weather-beaten brown tilted a little on one side and it looked like something that had been washed ashore in a bad storm a long while ago. The knocked on the door but all that bought me was echoes so I made a door out of one of the side windows. The inside of the place looked like something out of a hobo jungle. None of the furniture matched. The best piece inside would have made a junk man sneer. There was a broken down setup for poker and a tire doubled bed and after that he were practically on your own. The kitchen didn't turn up anything but a flock of ants and some empty bottles. I began to get the feeling Brown must have had two hideouts or else he'd left town. It shows you how wrong you can be. All right, Hustler, reach. You walk soft and practice makes perfect. Turn around slowly. How come you're working without a gun? I who are you? This is my place so you tell me. My name is Noak. I'm looking for a guy named Brown. You're all right so far. I'm Brown. Who tipped you off I'd be here. I don't remember. No you don't remember. So let me guess it was that punk Vanandy. Never heard of him. Never mind the rubric team. You got a hustler written all over you. What did Vanandy send you here for? Did you think I know too much? I was sent to rub you to think I'd come without a gun start using your head. I like the way it's working. Tell me more. I can't tell you anything. You don't fit my blueprints. Don't get smart with me, hustler. Vanandy sent you. Tell me what for. If you're Brown you don't need any new worries. You got an arm full already. I'm feeling no pain. The cops have your car down at the station. What for? They don't like him with dead bodies inside. Steady now. Let's have that again. A damn named Alastone was found stuffed in your trunk. Your hunter and four stoves. Life yourself out of that. If you know so much why aren't you yelling copper? Don't worry they're on their way. I'm trying to get the key to the killing. If this turns out to be a friend. Look. I saw the guy who did it. I'm the only one who did. That's better in your guns that treat me nice. If you saw the murder you can help me out. Sure. What do I get for it? A married badge? And things are coming too fast. I got to do some check. You better just fill what you know or else I'm low to forget mine. You got a nice lever there, hustler. If you can back up your talk. If the day is dead. Look who's bargaining. Before I tell you anything, I need to check around. Just wait a while. The cops will tell you everything. I like to find out things for myself. You will. I got a good grapevine in the county jail. Now do it the hog way. Forget I have a lever on you now. Yeah. Remind me to get scared about that. Try some asses for that. I woke up twice before I decided to make it stay that way. The house was so quiet I could hear someone play in the piano. Several houses away. It was a nice, clean sound, neat and full of try. No wise guys in a figure in fancy double crosses. No dead bodies. No policemen who argued with their knuckles instead of their heads. Probably some girl who thought a blackjack was a card game. I lay there listening to the music for a while, and I got up and brushed out my clothes. There were three places I could find brown. He wouldn't dare go to his home. He wouldn't return to the hideout. That left skips place. On the way over I stopped at a drug store and phoned Jacko to find out if he'd turned up anything. He left out the hiccups. It went like this. Hello, you reprobate renegid from all its good and holy. Skip the overture. Do you check on those people I asked you about? Sure I found out about them. Old doctor Madagal and his crystal ball. He knows all and he knows all and like that there. Tighten it up and tell me some. That girl Alice Stone, you remember? How can I forget? She lived with a dame in the potrero named Skip Harper. Nice people. The landlord served eviction notices every day except legal holiday. Yes, so they liked a good time, then what? Then she owns a half-interest in the gambling giant around Lake Tahoe, not much of a place. They say the roulette wheels of so many magons hung around them. The meals began to come out of the walls. Her partner runs the giant and she shows the suckers in from down here. How do you make it a wheel's crooked? I have my informants. I have a network of good drinking folk who get around and hear things all the time. You'd be surprised how careless a guy can get with talk when he's got his elbow in a bar or a mastery. Now as I was saying-- The wheels are fixed. How come Brown was able to shake the joint down for 50,000? I don't know how he did it. Maybe he was wired too. All I know is that they've got better control of the ball than Bob Feller ever had on his best day. It's easy to believe if you know Skip's partner. Yeah, introduce me. Name is Binanti. What's that again? The partner's name's Binanti. He's wanted in eight states and Cooper. Binanti. I'll remember the name. How'd you get on Brown? John Brown? Swell guy. Help free the slaves. A friend of man. A tribute of a man. I heard that song. Let's talk about the local Brown. Small time hustler. Petty last night stuff. He didn't get any tie-ins with the Binanti? Oh, yeah. He was up at the gambling joint near Tahoe last night. Cleaned the place out $50,000. By a lot of snows. Let's begin to fit together. No doubt your mighty intellect has found the key. I can count up to 10. I don't wear mittens. Sometimes 13, I'll bet. Well, who did what to who? Brown's got a partner working for him. You don't say? I'm going over and shake it out of Brown. He must know where the guy's hiding. Well, don't go looking into too many auto-trunks. Those things bite. So long, lover. [Music] But Jaco told me began to give me some hope. The thing the picture needed was one more man, and a partner for Brown would round it out nicely. Yeah, Brown must have figured someone to try to hijack his role and hired a friend to bring it out of San Francisco. I didn't explain to killing, and I didn't explain a lot of things. But it was a lead to the guy who could explain it. I needed Brown. So I got into the car of the hill towards Skip Harbour's place, I began to feel better. I was thinking how a helmet would look when I dumped the killer in his lap. I was a crowd along the street in front of Skip's place, just as I drew up Helman came out on the porch. So I got out of the car of one of the neighbors pointed to me. No vac, huh? They gave me a description, but I didn't think it was you. The guy they described sounded human. You'd yoke stink, Helman. Try and mutate and bury their juggling. The bird imitation's over for you, no vac. You'll be singing the DA any minute now. Come on in the house. It's Brown. Where's the name? What did you do, kill her too? Come on, head Helman. You can't pin us on me. I don't have to. The neighbors did it for no. Why should I kill my alibi? Because it wasn't. What did you do with a damel, man? Why don't you try thinking, Verge? I do my poor best. For instance, I think you killed the dam in the car and then tried to saw it off in Brown. Then you caught Brown here this morning and killed him. What for? Why don't you care? A 50 grand Brown won at the broken tee up at Lake Tahoe. The neighbor's cell me come here. I must have seen Brown come here too, after I'd left. Somebody saw Brown come. I didn't show by a witness in the old van. You can afford it. The name's gone. We haven't looked down at the rugs. How'd you get the dope on Brown when all that dope? Wave on Tahoe, bright boy. You've heard about the telephone. They glimmed. Who'd you talk to? The police. And then a guy named Vanani. He says he remembers you following Brown out. And that the dam was with you too. It's a lie. Sure. Sure, that the 50,000 bucks are still missing. Brown wasn't with me. It was a little guy. It's the climate. He grew since you two dropped in here this morning. I need some pictures. Well, you dropped Brown. The dam's going to drive you home. You proposition her and the way to help knock off Brown. She turned you down. That was kind of pictures. There are any photographs around the house. Yeah, there's some in the bedroom. Come on, let's look. Where she looked, she'd like him. There's one on the beach. What she wearing. There's a bathing suit. Here's the one. Tau. Well, look at this nightclub, down. What do they hold those things up? Dumb tacks. That's an ant. Look at the two of them posing in front of their sucker trap. So what? And he's the guy who did it. Sure, over the phone. Did you phone him or he phone you? He phone? You want him? What for? I got to you. He's here in the city hiding out at Brown's place at the beach. He has the address. What kind of a windy is this, nothing? Pick him up, William. He said he was a Tau. So when he is in the city, it's measures his alibi. All right, but if you're trying any fancy work-- Are you going to have to rim or do we-- Well, some more. How to hold you? I'll be around you now, then. What are you going to do? I'll get some cleaning after you. There was only one place for a finanny to be. My head is a car, a patrol, and a dumbass share a highway to the airport. I was betting everything on a hunch. Sometimes that's where you have to play it. Sometimes hunches pay off. Plain I got was built for hurry. Skip still had her overnight bag in her hand when I walked in on them at the broken tee. Banatti began to act nervous when he saw me. He had a not skip. He had a wonder if she'd ever known how it felt to be frightened. He'd never guess it from the way she talked. Hello, no back. Don't you ever shame. I had a close one just now. Doesn't show. You don't know where to look. What do you want, no back? I got it. No, it'd be cryptic, baby. It doesn't become you. You don't act nervous. Does he care about jail? Nobody's going to jail, no back. Except you, maybe. I'd be nervous if I had explained all those dead bodies back at Frisco. We don't know anything about dead bodies. We've been up here for hours. Yeah. That's how to be your olive eye. It's snow-alibine, no back. It's a fact. It won't gel when I do your cook. Look, no back. Brown deserved to die. He killed Allison before that he fixed the wires on the wheels so he could break this place. He robbed us of $50,000. We had a right to get it back. Is that what the Nadi told you? That's the way it happened, no back. It's $10,000 in it for you if you can remember it that way too. 10 grand. Easy there, Vin. And that was a little double talk, baby. He was trying to bribe me to dummy up on you. Dummy up. I know what happened. When you get through DREAM and try this for a bedtime story, the Nadi hired Brown to pick up the winnings while he ran the table. Then with Brown dead, the Nadi was going to fly back here in his private plane for the same olive I used now. Only he'd own the broken tea. Yeah, lion. Shut up, Vin. Tell me more, love. A plan began to sour up when Alice tried to thumb a ride. Alice knew him, so he killed it. He still needed to kill Brown, but he figured then he could hang the double killings on me. And they could even better. You're on the needle, no, Vin. The only trouble was that Brown wasn't home, Vin had to chase him. And he finally found that Brown was at your place. I don't know what happened there except that the Nadi must have killed Brown before he had a chance to talk. How was that? A gun at the store. When you come back, Brown's dead, and Vin had a tells you he did it to recover the money. Yeah. You were going to double curse me. He's lion, I tell you. See if he can prove it to a jury. I should have known. In case you get any fancy ideas about trying to lie out of it, I got a witness to feel the motor of your plane. It's still hot. At 10 grand office, still stands. I need you to clear me. Yeah. And I could use the sole ownership of this joint. You wouldn't run on me. Oh, watch me, baby. I'll let you rot in jail. No, back. I'll make a $25,000 if you help me quiet this day. Your woodman? Start out by quiet. [GUNSHOTS] [GUNSHOTS] [MUSIC PLAYING] Yeah, there were lousy shots they both lived. That is, the nanny lived until he got a bad case at asthma and a sand-quentin gas chamber. Skip got off of the flock of scars and some good advice from the judge to stay away from questionable characters. But advice is free, and Skip was the kind who went after the doe. So I see her now, and then she's gone honest, I think. Sometimes we toss dice, and I've known it a lose. [MUSIC PLAYING] Herodon tonight's program where Ben Morris is no vac, John Galbraith as Inspector Helman, Jack Lewis's Jocco, and Mary Milford as Skip. With Henry Leff, Jerry Walters, Kurt Martell, and Lucille Bliss, special music by Otto Claire. [MUSIC PLAYING] Listen next week at this same time when over most of these stations, the American Broadcasting Company presents Pat Novak, or Hyer. [MUSIC PLAYING] This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company. Thanks for listening. If you like what you heard, be sure to subscribe so you don't miss future episodes. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves old-time radio, or the paranormal, or strange stories, true crime, monsters, unsolved mysteries like you do. You can email me and follow me on social media through the Weird Darkness website. WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can listen to free audio books I've narrated, get the email newsletter, visit the store for creepy and cool Weird Darkness merchandise. Plus, it's where you can find the hope in the darkness page. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, addiction, or thoughts of harming yourself or others, you can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me for tonight's Retro Radio, Old-time Radio in the Dark.