← 1001 Radio Crime Solvers
1001 Radio Crime Solvers
THE LAWYER AND THE LADY and THE GAMBLER AND THE LADY JEFF REGAN, INVESTIGATOR
00:59:21
JEFF REGAN, INVESTIGATOR Jeff Regan, Investigator, was one of countless private detective series that proliferated in the years following WWII. The series initially featured Jack Webb in the title role, who was coming off his work in Pat Novak for...
Loading summary
Transcript1 lines
- [00:00]
A
This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Do you ever think about switching insurance companies to see if you could save some cash? Progressive makes it easy to see if you could save when you bundle your home and auto policies. Try it@progressive.com Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. Potential savings will vary. Not available in all states. Morning Zoe. Got donuts. Jeff Bridges why are you still living above our garage? Well, I dig the mattress and I want to be in a T Mobile commercial like you. T teach me so Bella oh no, I'm not really prepared. I couldn't possibly at T Mobile get the new iPhone 17 Pro on them. It's designed to be the most powerful iPhone yet and has the ultimate pro camera system. Wow, impressive. Let me try. T Mobile is the best place to get iPhone 17 Pro because they've got the best network. Nice. Jeffrey, you heard them. T Mobile is the best place to get the new iPhone 17 Pro on us with eligible traded in any condition. So what are we having for launch? Dude, my work here is done. The 24 month bill credit is on experience beyond for well qualified customers plus tax and $35 device connection charge credit send and balance due if you pay off earlier Cancel Finance agreement. IPhone 17 Pro 256 gigs $1,099.99 a new line minimum $100 plus a month plan with auto pay plus taxes and fees required. Best mobile network in the US based on analysis by Ooklove speed test intelligence data 1H225 visit t mobile.com My name's Regan. I get 10 a day in expenses from a detective bureau run by a guy named Anthony J. Lyon. They call me the Lion's Eye. Jack Webb is Jeff Regan, investigator as CBS offers you hard boiled action and mystery and thrilling adventure in tonight's story of the lawyer and the lad. The Cosmopolitan building is on 7th street near Olive Downtown LA. International Detective Bureau's up on the third floor, Suite 308. Right across from an elevator that hasn't been inspected since 29 when the guy who built the place took a vacation up at Folsom. I always use the stairs. Well, the plaster's bad, but the rent's cheap. And the lion says his office is just the kind of place that invites business. He's got a leather chair there about the shape of a fallen biscuit. That's for him to relax on. And right next to a desk with some blank checks and an inkwell, there's a hard straight chair that's with the client. The lion got mad when Our last customer asked if the chair was wired. Well. When I walked in last Thursday night, about 6 o', clock, he was staring at that empty chair. Wishful thinking, Regan. Christmas is coming. Well, that's news. It's the time of year when everybody's nice to everybody else. Somebody give you a calendar? I got better than that. It's a check. From who? His name's Kramer. He's a big lawyer. We need one again. He's our new client. He wants to see you. What about? He'll tell you, you tell me. I want you to be nice to him. He's a big man. His office is in the Park Central Building. Abercrombie, Kramer and Smith. A trio. It's an important legal firm in this city. What's the job? I told you he'd give you all of it. Look, the last time I waited for a client to talk, he died. Now look here. The kind of dough he pays, you could do janitor work for him and not ask questions. You never learn. This is a certified check, came by special messenger. He's waiting for you now. What else? The message said he wanted all this done confidentially. No police, you understand? You'd kidnap your own mother for cash. You're not alive. And then you'd starve to death, charging yourself ransom. I'm gonna be patient with you, Regan. This is another rotten deal. These big legal outfits can't afford to be dishonest. You've been making a living doing it. Kramer's in legitimate practice. I checked them. Oh, sure, you. I pay your salary and I take things as I see them. Well, you need stronger glasses. Well, I left him sitting there holding the check up to the light. He had both arms above his head. He reminded me of a two armed slot machine. I walked the four blocks over to the Park Central Building and an elevator operator with a cardboard collar took me up to the seventh floor. Abercrombie, Kramer and Schmidt had a flock of stables in the back with a fire escape. The names were hung out in silver and I figured if they were ambulance chasers, they used a motorcycle escort. I opened the door and stepped into a green carpet that needed mowing. Then I heard a noise at the deep end, where the trout stream should have been. She had hair the color of smoke. The rest of her spiraled up to match, but she looked unhappy, like a termite in the granite quarry. She glanced at her typewriter and then up at me. The Remington one. We've already ordered our Christmas cards. Get them in July. Well, maybe I'm not selling. You should. You're the type. Kramer in? He might be, but he never sends cards. Doesn't believe in Christmas. Well, he sent my office a check. Did he? What office is that? I'm Regan. International Detective Bureau. Stick to greeting cards. Kramer sent for me. Oh, he wants protection, huh? You tell me. Maybe it's something else now. Let's find out in a minute. He's busy right now. What's the matter with Abercrombie? He's dead. Schmidt wishes he was. Palm Springs with a hangover. Real nice bunch. How long you worked for him? Too long. My jokes are newer. Well, Benny's making a move. Maybe he'll hire you. I don't like funny men. What do you do when you're not working? All depends on who I'm with. Thought maybe you were antisocial. That's Kramer's. I was ahead of her, trying the door, but it was locked from the inside. She fumbled around on the desk and finally brought out a. Kramer was sitting at his desk, holding onto the front of his shoulder. His face was white and he wasn't feeling too good. Fire escape. He got through there. Emmy, call Dr. Sorensen. This wouldn't look good in the papers. No police. That's a big order. That's a big hole in his shoulder. Well, it was too late to start looking around the fire escape. And when Dr. Sorensen showed up, he called a private ambulance and had Kramer taken to a private hospital. The doc said he wouldn't be able to talk until morning. Well, if they wanted it quiet. There was no sense getting Homicide all excited. Emmy went to the hospital with him and I hung around the office for a little while. Everything was locked up tight. The files, his desk and the liquor cabinet. So I figured it was time to give the lion the nod. I doused the lights and went downstairs. Outside, the street was kind of vacant except for a steamroller with whiskers washing down the gutters. It dodged around a big green car parked by the curb and then it swivel hipped around my car where a little guy in a trench coat was leaning in, looking at my registration tag. When I tapped him on the shoulder, he looked confused, like he was trying to catch a cyclone on a paper bag. Huh? You looking for something? Oh, no, no, no. Just looking. Yeah, that's right. Looking. Come on, blow your nose. A little cold, that's all. Tell me about it before your throat gets sore. I told you, just lookin the car belongs to the finance company, in case you got extra keys. No, no, no. No, no, no, pilgrim. Never borrowed a buggy in my life. He can't drive. How'd you guess? Come on, you. Let's pour it out. Sure, sure. You the guy? What guy? Guy says that Regan. I might be. They want to make a mistake. Deal, will you? Somebody wants to see you. Who? Guy? Well, I don't know him. Yeah. Guy says please reads Emily Post. That's right. Friend of mine weighs 285 pounds. He's across the street in the ice cream parlor. Last stool on the end. Well, I'll tell you, somebody else is carrying my books home today. Oh, he wouldn't care. Big man. Gonna see him? Can't he walk? Says if you argue, mention the name Kramer. Now you gonna see him? How can I miss? He weighs 285 pounds. No, it didn't figure, but sometimes you look and nothing figures. Kramer had taken one in the shoulder. And before he'd been able to talk, the lights had been. And he wound up in a hospital. Well, somebody had an angle, and maybe it was the guy across the street. I found him sitting all alone. About 300 pounds of beard in a plaid coat. He was picking all the strawberries out of his ice cream. Hey, you sent for me? Mm. Vegan. You got it. Have something great. Banana split here. Four kinds of ice cream. I'm on a diet. I never worry about things like that. It's a mistake. You only live once. Know me? You got a name? Spec Jameson. You know me now. You got a grudge with Kramer? Yeah. You shot at him from the fire escape. I did? When? Half hour ago. Anybody see me? No. That's good. How'd I do? He got it in the shoulder. He'll live up to that point. It could have been me. Well, it's gonna make a good story for the police, for anybody. I'm clean as a whistle. You sure you won't have something? Now, look, I got a date. Fatso. Let's fan this out. Sure, sure. How about Kramer? Oh, yeah? Where'd you say he was? Hospital. Oh, yeah, here. He hire you for protection? Maybe. Regan, you got a lot to learn. About life? No, just about living. You catch on quick. To what? Now, you take me, for instance. Your complexion's not so good. It'll improve. Besides, I don't like trouble, Regan. You'll have to get used to it. It's just there's some things a man can't stand, can't take lying down. Name three. No. I just want you to understand. I know what I'm doing. That's All. And this is what I'm doing. All right, Regan, back on your feet. Yeah, they serve that ice cream and big dishes. I'll give you a boost. Here's my hand. Take off the knuckles. Quiet, Regan. There's some more metal in my pocket. I don't need a Geiger counter. I said you were smart. Now get it. It's a clean sweep. You're staying out of it. Suppose I stick around? Then I'll unglue you. I left him sitting there with his ice cream. Wouldn't have done any good to trade fists with him. But there was something in the way he talked about Kramer and the shooting that made it a Sunday puzzle. I found a phone booth and put in a call to the Lion. Regan, where you been? You see Kramer? What'd he say? Well, now, which one do you want first? What about Kramer? He was all shot up. Target practice. Some guy with a grudge. If he plays like that, yell cop. Look, they'll want to see you. No police, remember? What are you talking about? Another bum client. Why do these things always happen to me? Because your palm is faster than your brain. Every case has it. Look, this is a three ring circus and we haven't even got any peanuts. Well, maybe I should have found out what he wanted. Oh, you say that now. Who's got the grudge? A sweet tooth? Calls himself Spec Jameson. Spec? Where's he? Fitting he wouldn't stand still to show me his tea leaves. You talk to him? We met. When people start asking questions, we don't want to be stuck without any answers. You get out and run down some dope on this man, Speck. What are you gonna do? Don't worry. I'll take her on my end. Yeah, most people. Well, this job had more ups and downs than the Berlin Airlift. I turned the phone book over to some drunk with a beer breath and I walked over a couple of blocks to the morgue. I mean, the one where they keep dead newspapers. I got a friend who works in the file room of the LA Times. After 15 years of it, he's got about as much adrenaline as an old magazine in the attic. Nope. No, I never heard of a Spec Jameson. Probably a nickname, isn't it? You know, Spec, short for glasses. Yeah, I caught the drift. Thought I was gonna say spectacles, didn't you? Hey, look, let's try this for size. Yeah, big fat guy, but always hungry. Mention any friend, Kramer, and he wasn't a friend. Spec Adams in last Thursday's paper. What'd he do? Executed the same Day in Sing Sing Spec Jameson, huh? Released from Quentin Day 4 yesterday. Let me see. That's all it Sundays. Serve full 10 year sentence, continuous on four counts. Somebody threw a book at him. Yeah, maybe. Tell you in a minute. Try December 38. This case would have come up in November. Yeah. Yeah. There we are. You take these? Yeah. Hey, look at the funny skirts. Short, weren't they? Hey, here's one. War impossible says. Let's stick to the subject. November 17th. Jameson appeal denied. Read it. A lot of stuff. He was in the rackets. Go on. Judge said unusual completeness of prosecution's case made retrial impossible. Continuous sentence upheld. Who was the judge? Old govern. He's dead. Ah. Here's what you want. Special prosecutor Joseph W. Kramer. Excuse me. Joseph W. Cramer was brilliantly letting us work for the forces of good in Los Angeles. Hey, it's for you. Okay. Thanks. Yeah? Mr. Regan? Yeah. This is Emmy, Mr. Kramer's secretary. Are you always this hard to find? Well, it depends on where you look. Mr. Kramer wants to see you. You talking now? He's feeling much better. The doctor said it was just a flesh wound. What kind? 38. All right. Where's the hospital? It's a little place on Hawthorn. Mrs. Kramer will show you. If you don't mind going by the Biltmore and picking her up. I haven't got my car. Use Mr. Kramer's. It's in the garage there. Is she expecting me? I phoned. 15 minutes. Good. He wants to thank you for what you did. What did I do? Kept the police out of it. It's his show, but it may close. What do you mean? I ran into Spec Jameson. Oh, now you still want the police out of it? I don't know. Mr. Kramer will tell you when he sees you. You sound like you're changing jobs. So I went over to the garage and I picked up his car. And then I drove to the hotel entrance. While I was arguing with a cab driver, Mrs. Kramer walked out, 45, little tired around the eyes. She was wearing a white sheet, double bed size, under a mink coat. That must have set somebody back $10,000. She didn't look like a wife that Kramer would have. I hope this isn't inconveniencing you. No, it's not. Are you sure my husband's all right? He's talking. According to Emmy. Emmy? She's there with him. She's his secretary. It's funny, isn't it? I'm his wife, yet she spends more time with him than I do. Well, that's business. Even now when he's been hurt. She's there first. She was there when it happened. Of course, I guess I. Never mind. You're a detective, aren't you? Yeah, that's right. Mr. Kramer hired you to protect him from that Jameson? I never found out. Maybe I've been so worried about him. At the trial, Jameson said he'd kill him if it was the last thing he ever did. You know, I always thought it was taking an awful, awful. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, lady. You know the story. Emmie. She's young, pretty. I have to spend my time at bridge parties. Does it help? No. How long you been married to him? Next month, 18 years. I don't look the same way anymore. Neither does he. Funny what life does to you, isn't it? I was his secretary once. That's how I met him. Look. How far to the hospital? There's only a few more blocks. You go straight. Hang on. Who do you know that drives a big green Nash? No one. Well, he knows us. Been following us since we left the hotel. What are you supposed to do? Is he still with us? Yes. I can't understand a thing like this happening. Why would anybody want to follow up? Maybe it's a friend of your husband's. Jamison. He tried once tonight. Maybe it'd be better to get you. I'm scared. Come on. Come on. Get out. Get out. Mr. Regan. The green Nash had been tailing me. I shook it on the last corner. There are lots of them. But it might have been the same one that was parked by my car downtown earlier. Oh, it made no sense, but I wasn't taking any chances. Only before I could get the door open, the Nash came sliding around the other side of the block. I shoved Mrs. Kramer into the floorboards and slid under the window. A lot of glass got broken fast. By the time I could separate my teeth from the clutch pedal, the car had gone. I shook Mrs. Kramer, but she didn't shake. She was dead. You are listening to the story of the lawyer and the lady. Tonight's adventure with Jeff Regan, investigator. Listen, this is good news. Good news for you if you are between the ages of 20 and 26 and a half, married or single, a high school graduate, and want to fly for the United States Air Force. Yes, the Air Force Aviation Cadet Program is offering you the opportunity to become a pilot officer in the mightiest air force in history. You can be one of the Air Force's men of renown. And there's more offered than the pride. You Feel in being a member of America's flying team, for after your 52 weeks of training, you'll graduate as a second lieutenant in the Air Force with an income of more than $300 per month. Remember, the Air Force offers you what it offered General Jimmy Doolittle, General Carl Spaatz and General Hoyt Vandenberg. Now, at 42, the Air Force Chief of staff. Call at your local army and Air Force recruiting station tomorrow. Apply to become an aviation cadet. And now back to the story of the lawyer and the lady and Jeff Regan investig. Well, it all made sense, like a eubangy with a piccolo. It started when the lion sent me over to see a lawyer named Kramer. I got there just in time to meet Emmy, his receptionist, and find Kramer with a bullet in his shoulder. The hospital took over and I left. That's when I ran into Spec Jameson, an ex con who Kramer put away some 10 years ago. He turned out to have a lot of stomach and a big hate for the lawyer. Then I got a call from Emmy to pick up Mrs. Kramer. I did, and the shots began, and she ended up a candidate for the city morgue. Well, I called Homicide and they sent out some boys to clean up. I gave them what I knew, and I moved on out to see Kramer. The Angels of Mercy Hospital turned out to be be a private place off Hawthorne. Two stories of cement set down in the middle of a clover field. It figured that they only held a thermometer to patients that could make a big noise with a cash register. Kramer showed in an upstairs room next to a fire escape. He was climbing into an overcoat. When he saw me, he looked unhappy, like a pointer with a broken tail. Well, Regan, I'm glad you came to see me. Tell me that later. What do you mean? How's the shoulder? Oh, a little annoying, but it's all right now. That figures. Why? It was a neat shot. Just enough to raise a little fever. What are you driving at? Give it a chance. It'll sink in. Come on, let's get out of here. All right. Picked up my wife downtown. Yeah, good, good. She worries a lot, you know. Tell you what, Reagan, I'll send a check around in the morning for another hundred. That all right? Make it a thousand. What's that for? Insurance against guys like you. Never mind that. Regular. Why didn't you tell the lion what you wanted in the first place? I didn't know. I got another story. Well, you're wrong. You knew Spec Jameson was out. No reason I should tell you that. I'm rehearsing a witness, that's all. What? Yeah. Now let's hear what you did to him. Nothing. Not a thing. He can tell you that in.38. You got the book thrown at him. He was a public enemy. So, Smog, Regan, a man in my position. Maybe that's it. Maybe you're the kind of shyster that builds a rap on convictions. Grant you it helped. That's all you want. So he hated you. He made threats. What cooled him off? $10,000. When? After I discovered he meant business, I sent someone with the money. Figured Jameson forget everything for cash. Men of his stripe always will. You made a mistake. Everybody does sometimes. I guess Jameson is still using his gun, but my shoulder will mend. Your wife won't. What do you mean? She's dead. No. Homicide will tell you different. I'd better go down to see them. Yeah. That bullet was meant for me. Like you said, everybody makes mistakes. Well, we climbed in the taxi and headed for headquarters. Kramer looked confused. He mumbled a few words about what a good cook his wife had been. How he'd always tried to protect his from the stuff that he'd done to make a success. He was the kind of guy that always figured it was better to make a deal than face facts. Now he had to face a backfire. Well, there were a couple of newspaper photographers in front of the place. Kramer's shoulders dropped a couple of notches. Then he headed for inside. I started in behind him, but an arm stopped me. Regan, come here. What are you doing out of bed? Shut up. Get back in the taxi. Look out. That meter will bite you. I'm not paying the fare. Downtown driver. Okay, Mike, you know the cops are gonna love you for this. They can hear your side of it later. Sure. And you'll stand behind me now, Regan. I'll tell you how I figured this. She gets killed. It was a mistake. Oh, now that takes a big brain. Kramer's got enemies, said Emma. Enemy. Dylan and the wife freaking to get Kramer. That's the last chapter. And we write the next one. Turn in said enemy, and we'll pick us up a nice fat reward. Homicide started with Jameson already. They're gonna be surprised. What do you mean he didn't do it? How do I look into things? That's how I know. Well, all right, big shot. Open it up. It goes this way. Fifteen minutes after I talk to you, I put a call into the cops. Saying what? That I don't like my operator being threatened by ex cons. What happens? You tell me. The police Themselves Take Jameson out of circulation. He was locked up before Mrs. Kramer got fired. He's sitting in the Hollywood station house right now with a smile on his face. Talking? No. Eat an ice cream. Well, now it really made sense. Like a mermaid on a bicycle. If Jameson didn't throw the lead, I had to find out who did. The taxi dropped me off downtown across from the Park Central Building and I started up the elevator to Kramer's office. It figured it'd be the time to get a look inside that locked up. When I opened the door marked Abercrombie, Kramer and Schmidt. The place was dark. I moved into Kramer's office and started a little work on the desk. It took me about 10 minutes to get inside. Nothing showed in the first two drawers. But in the third, I picked up a box of Panatellas and I looked under it. That's where I found a.38 with one bullet missing. Well, Ballistics could do something about it. So I crammed it in my overcoat pocket and I started outside. That's when the door opened and the little guy with a runny nose walked in. He was wearing a suit the color of an avocado and his face looked like a fried banana. Nice rug, huh? You from the cleaners? I make my own spots. Sit down, Regan. We're gonna talk. I'll take it standing. We prefer you sitting. It's your gun. More natural that way. You got a name, buster? They call me the Dove. The Bird. No cracks, just a dove. Peace mission it is. Reston. All right, what is it this time? Where's Kramer? China, you're an unlucky contestant. If you don't like my answers, try somebody else. That's what I'm doing. Correcting mistakes. Like shooting the wrong guy. Like leaving a witness. I had to get rid of my Nash on account of you. You killed her, now you're waiting for her husband. Of course I killed her. But don't try to change the subject. See what I'm talking about now? Well, I don't like the spotlight. They should have stuck to your nose in here, Regan. It'll bleed. Let's start with yours. I dove for him and the gun went. Only it wasn't pointed at me. Kramer was standing in the doorway pulling a trigger like a kid at a bubble gum machine. I figured the floor was safer, so I flattened out. The Dove tried the same, only he at the wastebasket. Did I get him? Well, he looks as dead as he'll ever be. Cheap murdering. Let me hold a gun, huh? Karima? Yes, Regan, there's a bottle in the cabinet. Sure. Here you are. Thank you. Now what are you gonna do now? I don't know. Call the police, I guess. I thought you were with them. I came down in their car to get some of my files on the old Jameson case. Yes? You want to tell me? Oh, it's about. As you know, he was a small time grifter. I gave myself a big name by prosecuting him. Built my business and the reputation it gave me. You told the police why he hates you. Oh, yes. I intend to stand trial for killing this man. You're growing up, Kramer. Who was he anyway? The Dove? No driver's license. Oh, yes, here it is. Dove Duval. Hmm. Regan, look at this. That's a lot of money. It's $10,000. Same amount of money I sent to Jameson to stay away from me. Looks like the chickens came home to roost, doesn't it? Yeah, it does. Well, police are waiting. I better go and tell them about this. Go on. You coming? No, I'll meet you there. Kramer. I got a late date. I gave the boys downstairs the high sign. Then I moved out of there fast. I found Emmy's place, just off Normandy. It was a brand new duplex with a gilt edged driveway and stocks and bonds for awnings. For a business girl, she really did all right. I was a couple of hours overdue. But the girl with the smoky hair knew how to wait. There was a candle burning in her window and two more in her eyes. It took me a little time, but now you're here. Well, aren't you going to do something about it? Yeah. Talk. Mr. Regan. What's the matter with you? I've been working hard. Oh, is that all? Listen, lady, this is just too pat, too neat. The ends tied together like Siamese twins. I'm alone. Yeah, but you don't want to be. Your boss just rubbed out a killer named Dove. What? It was self defense. I'm a witness and he'll be out of it inside a week. Well, then what are we bothering about? A guy named Jameson. Nobody will believe him. Why should they? Because they didn't hire the Dove. Who did? You, Mr. Regan? All right, maybe it was your boss. He primed me with a story about giving Jameson 10 G's. Only one ever saw that doe was the Dove. Well, that was his price for killing. Mrs. Kramer, you're out in left field. Mystery. I was working. You were keeping me outside till Kramer could throw a small bullet into his shoulder. Why would he do that? To point up that Jameson was still after him. But he was. I figured different. And Homicide's gonna like my way. I don't even know what you're talking about. Well, this gun has a different version. Where'd you get it? Kramer's bottom drawer. And the caliber is gonna fit the hole in your boss's shoulder. Well, that's it. You've got it all now. Yeah. You know, you got a real nice hair. Yeah, that San Quentin water is gonna ruin it. Well, the whole thing came apart like a paper hat in a shower bath. Seems that when Jameson got out of prison and threatened Kramer, the lawyer and his secretary figured that it was a good time to get rid of the wife. I suppose she interfered with their skiing or something. Anyway, they hired the Dove to do the job and got rid of him just so he couldn't ever come to bat for the fall guy, Jameson. Now, they had a perfect frame fixed for him and I was picked to decorate the edges. Only it didn't work. Everybody was positive about this one. Kramer knew he was gonna win. Emmy knew she was in for a big cut. And the lion knew he was gonna collect a fat fee. They should have all figured it. This is the year for upsets. Jack Webb is featured as Jeff Regan with Herb Butterfield as Anthony J. Lyons. It's CBS at the same time next week for more hard boiled action and mystery with Jeff Regan, investigator. Written by Jackson Gillis and D. Jack Newman, produced by Sterling Tracy. Featured in tonight's story were Carol Matthews, Marvin Miller, Lou Krugman, Herb Vigren, Mary Lansing and Larry Dodkin. Original music for this program is by Milton Charles. This is Bob Stevenson Speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. My name's Regan. I get 10 a day in expenses from a detective bureau run by a guy named Anthony J. Lyon. They call me the Lion's Eye. With Jack Webb as Jeff Regan. The Lion's Eye. Stand by for hard boiled action and mystery and thrilling adventure in tonight's story of the gambler and his lady. You find it in Hollywood on Taft Avenue. Four story apartment building, the color of a rainy afternoon. They call it the Haven Wood. It sags in the middle like a tired frankfurter. That's where I live. Apartment 3K. Two rooms with a pull down bed and a pair of windows that stick when it's hot. Oh, the view isn't much. Six strands of telephone wire and the head of a shaved off palm tree. Beyond is the city Louisiana, spread out on the map like a raw egg with a broken yolk. Oh, the town's all right, I guess, if you can afford the sedatives. The lion likes it. He set himself up as a receiving clerk for trouble and I work for him. It was about 11:15 Tuesday night when my phone began making itself felt. Turned out to be the lion breathing hard. It figured he was running his fingers over a green bag. Re want to hear the sound of a brand new $50 bill? Send me a record. What's the matter? You sound like you're flat on your back. How do you sleep? Who's sleeping? I'm working. And that's what you're going to be doing. Try me tomorrow. Throw on some clothes. You're going down to Venice Boulevard to see a lady. She's got daughter trouble. Well, marry her off. She didn't pay us 50 bucks for that. The problem goes deeper. How much? She'll tell you. I want it from you. I don't know it all for sure. Don't you ever check into things? I do the general work. You get the details. Yeah. You drag a wet rag over the 15. If the ink stays on, we got a client. That's insulting. How would you know, Regan? You don't want to keep a lady waiting. Now get a move on. Give me the name. This is Eleanor Bask of Pierpont Hotel. Yeah, and phone me after you talk to her. What for? I want to be sure it's legit. Do you care? Better make that call to me tomorrow after 10. I'm sort of gonna be tied up till then. Doing what? Sleeping. Well, I put on some clothes, picked up my car and moved out to Venice Boulevard. The Good Humor men were all gone and I had the street to myself. Twenty minutes later I came to a stop beside a garbage can near Sand Pedro. Behind it stood the Pierpont Hotel a two deck pile of wood left over from the sinking of the Spanish Armada. There was a black and dirty white sign outside said rooms 50 cents weekly and monthly rates. The names Eleanor and Georgia Bascom showed in the mailbox and gave a room 210. I climbed a flight of stairs and walked down a hall that looked like a passageway in a pyramid. It was dark and it took my cigarette lighter to turn up the numbers. 2:10 finally showed and I rapped on the door. A bush of black and gray hair pulled it open. It was wearing a red kimono and an impatient look like a tax collector in January. She was pushing 50 and looked tired. Yes? I'm Regan, International detective. Oh, yes, the Lyons. I have been waiting for you. Come in. I'm Mrs. Bascom. Eleanor or Georgia. George is my daughter. I want to apologize for getting you out here this time of night, Mr. Regan, but it's urgent. The lion said that the girl's the problem, huh? Yes. How old is she? 22. Who's the man? How'd you know there was a man? What other kind of trouble would she go after? She's a good girl, Mr. Regan. She always has been until now. That's what I want to know. She's old enough to call her plays. That's not the advice I'm paying for. Where'd you get the 50? It took a lot of saving. All right, give me his name. Louie Desmond. Gambler, card sharp, Bookie all around con man. He's got a car. Draw him out toward Gardena someplace. The Five Aces Club. What does your daughter see in him? Oh, it's this place. The way we have to live. She's tired of having nothing. I've tried, but she's looking for a change. I'm taking a wrong turn. I'm not sure yet. Yeah, other girls have it real tough. They go to work. Well, we had a little trouble in the family. Once it shows up, if someone starts looking. When can I talk to Georgia? You'll have to work that out yourself, Mr. Regan. What does that mean? She put some clothes in a suitcase and left earlier this evening. That's why I had to call you so suddenly. Where'd she go? Louis is a real bum, Mr. Regan. You talk like you know him. We've met. I want to know just what's going on. If Louie's forcing her into anything crooked, she force easy. A fur coat makes a young girl do a lot of things. Yeah. Oh, here's a picture of her. You may need it. It's not very good, but the only one I've got. I'll make it work. That's about all, Mr. Regan. Get in touch with me as soon as you get something. Okay. Oh, Mr. Regan. Yeah? As you can tell, I'm the kind of person who sometimes gets hysterical over things. But I'm also the kind who demands results. You sound like a radio commercial. It was after midnight when I followed the fog out Vermont toward Gardena. The yellow lights were pressing, but they were doing about as much good as a pint of bourbon at a Shriners convention. I wound around the Flatland for a while before the Five Aces Club turned up by a bend in the road. Looked like a blue wart with a neon sign. There was a front door and a back one and a Couple of pairs of shoulders standing at each. A little guy in a pinstripe gray was figuring the size of the wallets going in. Louie Desmond's office showed at the top of the stairway, and I moved for it, but a muscle looking down on six feet was playing frontman. He put a knotted hand on my arm and when he spoke it sounded like a gear factory doing double time. Slow down, pilgrim. The room you're looking for is the other way. Yeah, well, this one says office. That's that. Trouble with you guys who read, can't take hints. Spell it out. Not until I see Louis Desmond. What's your business? I'll tell it to him. You owe him some dope. No, I don't. Then he ain't interested. He will be. Listen, junior. Right now. Come on, get him off of me. Plot. Hey, what's all the noise, Patsy? Sightseer without a ticket. My name's Regan Cupp. Maybe you want me to bounce him down the stairs, boss? Maybe. What do you want? Talk. That's always a waste of time. Not if it's about Georgia Bascom. Come on in. Never saw you around here before, Regan. No, I can't afford it. Oh, don't say that. Some people go out of here with more than they come in with. Yeah, you guess you're right at that. Cigar? No, thanks. Well, what about Georgia, Regan? You tell me. That doesn't add you came to see me. She's got a worried mother. They're all like that. Now, this one figures you're doing a little forcing. Oh, you'd know more about that. Give me a clue. Blackmail, maybe. You're a kick. Arthur Godfrey. Love to get a hold of you, I come too high. Let me give you some good advice. Go home and pull a blanket over your head and say it's all a bad dream. You know, you talk a lot, mister, but you don't say much. What's the hold on Georgia? All right, wise guy. Anain, come over here, baby. Regan, you know this girl? I've seen a picture. Georgia, this is a peeper named Regan. He come to rescue you. But what for, Mr. Regan? $50. My mother gave you that to come and take me back? Something like that. But I can't go. Why not? Well, go ahead. Show him, baby. Look, Regan, three carats with a wedding band to match. On what dice table did you pick those up? Stop the noise, Regan. Congratulate the lady. Not on a bad mistake. Oh, never mind him, Louie. He doesn't matter. When did the furs come? Louie said soon. Tell Mama we're married. And not to worry. We're going away for a few days and Sonata for some gambling and fishing. You won't enjoy it. Sure I will. You'll be in la. The alley behind the Five Aces Club hadn't been dusted in a week. My brown flannel suit fixed that. Well, I picked myself up and made it for the car. Moving north on Vermont, I tried to add a couple of things. There was a funny smell in Louie's office when I first walked in. Like rope on fire. Somebody'd been there before me. Who smoked Cube Abs? Desmond worked on cigars. Georgia held a king sized Pall Mall. Well, whoever it was still played it coy. About one o' clock I started raising a small campaign with a Lion's door knocker. His dream must have been a real good one because it took him 10 minutes to get to the door. He was wearing a nightgown. He looked like a poor imitation of the Fisk Tire ad. All it was missing was the candle. Regan, I told you not to bother me until after 10am it's no bother. Get out of here. Let a man sleep. Your dreams will be bad. What do you mean? You just lost a. What's the matter? The money. 40. Georgia Bascom married Desmond. There's nothing I can do about it. Well, think of something. Say you married her first. You're out of your mind. So it's a bad idea. Get a good one. Yeah, I already have. What is it? You give Mrs. Bascom her case back. You can't do that. Try me. Think a minute, Regan. She's come to us for help. A lonely woman with no place to turn entrusts her trouble to International. You got that 50 spent. It's not the money. It's the moral obligation. Oh, stop it, will you? You don't give blood anymore since you found out. Somebody pay for it. You're getting out of line. You're the only guy in town who can turn a shaving cut into a bankrol. That's enough. Let's do it this way. You go over to Mrs. Bascom and give her the lowdown. Let her decide if she wants you to carry on or not. You sure go to a lot of trouble for a 50. I need a lot of new stuff around the place. Well, it's close to Christmas, right To Santa Claus. Well, I left the lion looking for a fountain pen and I drove out to Venice Boulevard and Pierpont Hotel. The place still looked the same. A black Nash was parked up the block. The motor going A couple of cats were doing a duet on a garbage can. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and I started down the hall for 2:10, walking real easy to keep the boards from creaking. But somebody else didn't care about the noise. It was a gun with a silencer working in Mrs. Bascom's room. I pushed the door in, but by then all I could hear was silence. The light showed an open window with a fire escape and the wind was blowing the curtains. Mrs. Bascom lay face down on the bed, real still, and the holes in her blanket were turning wet. The lion really lost a client that time. Well, it didn't take Sanducci and the boys long to get there. The fingerprint man and the photographers went to work in the room. Sanducci picked me. He had a grouch on like a fat lady in an upper berth. What's the matter, Regan? You get lost? What do you mean? You're pretty far from home. I get around. Who is she? Name's Eleanor Bascom. I know that. What she do? Where she come from? I don't know. What were you doing out here? She called in the Lion. Her daughter ran off with Louie Desmond. Oh. He in it? How far? Ask him. Mrs. Bascom wants you to bring her daughter back. She wanted to know if the girl was moving into a racket. Was she? I haven't found out. I should have known better than to ask a detective. Why didn't she call us? She was behind on her taxes. What do you do private sit up nights figuring ways to make my job harder. You through with me? No. Who killed Arrega? I don't know. Bad choice of words. Go check a black Nash parked up the street. Got a license number? No, I haven't. Thanks a lot. Look, I'm no medium. I didn't know she was marked. Any other big ideas? A few. Well, keep them to yourself. They're all wrong. Now get out of here. Yeah. Say, Santucci, eh? The lion can handle another client now. So what? Wanna sign up? Well, I went home and slept. Coffee and warmed over biscuits at the drugstore. Took care of breakfast the next morning. Then I checked the phone book. Louie Desmond's home address turned up on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. And so I drove out. There was on a corner, a two story colonial place was with white pillars and green shutters. The doorbell sounded like a second chorus at the Hollywood Bowl. A Japanese maid let me in and I waited in the anteroom. That's when I caught that peculiar smell again. Somebody had just been There. Who smoked those cubeb cigarettes? Well, a couple of minutes later, a tall blonde fighting 30 stepped up to me. She smelled like she just crawled out of a bottle of Plateen. It was a bright morning, but she had the kind of look that had you wishing for an eclipse. Well, what do you want? Louie Desmond, census taker. No. What's he done? I don't know yet. Where is he? I don't know where he is. He didn't come home last night. Lots of work at the office card room out in Gardena. Lots of work out there. He didn't say. He doesn't tell me. Everything should he? Depends on what you think of your marriage vows. Who are you? His wife. Want a drink, mister? Sure. What'll it be? Yours? Bourbon. You poor. I don't know when to stop. All right. Here you go. To marriage. It's a mess. Cigarette? Never touch him. Interferes with my drinking. Who smokes the cubebs? Is that what that stuff is? Yeah. That little guy walked in here looking for Louie and smelled up the place. Hiya, Stummer. Oh, hello, Patsy. Just in time for a drink. Company. Yeah. What's your name? Fellow he knows. You earn hard, don't you, Regan? What's going on? He's an eye. So what? So he gets a bounce. He's my friend. Beat it, Seamus, or I'll split. You stay right where you are. This is my house. And I'll entertain who I want with the boss's liquor. I've got some. Right. Well, figure out what they are and try them on the boss. I don't like you, Patsy. Beat it, people. Get your paws off of me. Come on, get them off. Stop it, Patsy. Stop it, I said. Well, you hit him pretty hard, lady. No, I didn't. His head's soft. Well, I left her picking up pieces of glass and I drove back toward Hollywood. I was moving east on Sunset, trying to make some sense out of Desmond's domestic life, when I spotted that black sedan again. It was doing a real bad tag job on me. I pushed the pedal closer to the floor, but the sedan had better gas. It caught me going around a bend past Beverly Glen and started pushing me. Oh, it was a great place for a boulevard stop, but none showed. All it did was a reflection in my rear view mirror of the driver in the black sedan. It was feminine and the voice spelled out Georgia Bascom. That's when she moved in for a closer look. You are listening to the story of the gambler and his ladies. Tonight's adventure with Jeff Regan, investigator Listen, this is good news. Good news for you. If you are between the ages of 20 and 26 and a half, married or single, a high school graduate, and want to fly for the United States Air Force. Yes, the Air Force Aviation Cadet Program is offering you the opportunity to become a pilot officer in the mightiest Air Force in history. You can be one of the Air Force's men of renown. And there's more offered than the pride you feel in being a member of America's flying team. Or after your 52 weeks of training, you will graduate as a second lieutenant in the Air Force with an income of more than $300 per month. Remember, the Air Force offers you what it offered General Jimmy Doolittle, General Carl Spaatz and General Hoyt Vandenberg. Now at 42, the Air Force chief of staff. Call at your local army and Air Force recruiting station. Tomorrow, apply to become an aviation cadet. And now back to the story of the gambler and his ladies and Jeff Regan, investigator. Well, things were moving as fast as the last reel in a Western movie. The lion sent me out to see a lady who was having daughter trouble. Georgia Bascom had done a tie in with a gambler named Louie Desmond, only it looked real permanent. She was wearing his wedding ring, and the mother ended up carrying a couple of bullets. And Homicide moved in. That's when I met a blonde at Desmond's house who said she was Louie's wife. Now, I was working on the mess when a black sedan with George at the wheel ran me off the road and the slugs began to fly. I peeled myself off the side of the hill and I got in touch with the police. San Ducci took over and invited me to headquarters for some more talk. They put me in a little room with pale green walls and sat behind a big desk chewing a dead cigar. It was taking me all in like a Hoover vacuum cleaner on a dirty rug. Well, how do you feel, Regan? All right. You shouldn't. Why not? Looks to me like from here on in, you're a marked man. I'll get along. It'll be really interesting to see, huh? All right, now, look. Have you got something to say? Maybe. Well, let's hear it. Relax, Regan. You're not going anyplace. You can't hold me. I was the one who got shot at. Well, that's enough. I'll work out a way to hold you for creating a disturbance. It won't work. Listen, you. The bullets we pulled out of your upholstery match the ones in Mrs. Bascom. So what? So we figure she was knocked off because she knew something somebody didn't want said. We also figured that applies to you. Well, that gets you nothing. All right, Regan, play it your way. This time you'll come running back when the heaters close in. Don't make buck on it. Well, if you gotta get yourself knocked off, don't mess up our city streets. Yeah, I'll be real careful. Oh, and wear a dark suit. That save our morticians a little trouble. That all? Yeah, go on, be it. Sure. Oh, Reagan. Yeah. Buffet. What's that mean? Your father's mustache. Well, it was late afternoon by the time I walked out the of headquarters. The sun was still working, but it was cold. The cab driver, with a lot of conversation, drove me to my place over on Taft. When I opened my front door, I smelled it again. Those cube abs. A small face was sitting on my sofa, sucking on him. It belonged to a guy who had to stand on a box to see over a fox terrier. When I shut the door behind me, ground the cigarette into an ashtray and turned on a nervous look like a pig in a football factory. Your landlady let me in. Mr. Regan. I hope you don't mind, I have to talk to you. We met before. We did? I don't remember. Just me and your cigarettes. Ah. Oh, you mind if I smoke? You just finished one. Oh, yeah. Yes, yes, so I did. May I have a drink, then? Just a small one. All right. Thank you. I generally don't drink, but tonight I thank you. Now, I barely know where to begin. You better figure it out. You haven't got much time. Yes. Yeah, well, start with a name. Is that necessary? Yeah, it is. Loper. Max Loper. I'm a businessman. What kind? What kind? Oh, furrier. Yeah, yeah, I'm a furrier, Mr. Regan. All sorts of furs. Ermine's nice. Generally, I prefer sable, but it depends on the woman. You know, what does Georgia get? I beg pardon? Let it go. I'm not the man I used to be, Mr. Regan. My fortunes have changed. Yeah, yeah, changed. I. I think I better have that cigarette. Save it for later and start making sense. Well, I need help. Why come to me? Well, Mrs. Bascom thought enough for you to ask you to help her. You see, I know Mrs. Bascom. That is, I knew Mrs. Bascom. Her death was so sudden, it was forced. Yes, so the papers say. But, Mr. Regan, I want you to know I didn't do it. Who said you did? Well, nobody yet, but I didn't do It. Look, why tell me? There's nobody else I can tell. Try the police. No, no, no. That's what I can't do. I want you to prove to them that I wouldn't do a thing like that. Loper, what's your tie in with? Desmond? Desmond? Why, there is no tie in. You were at his card room. I smelled your cigarettes there. You got nothing, I guess. And you went to his house. Mr. Regan, that's got nothing to do with it. I think different. But you're wrong, all wrong. Convince me. I didn't do the murder. That's what I want you to tell the police. Who did? I don't know. Well, now I think you do. Come on. Who killed George's mother? It was her stepmother who was killed. Give me some more. Oh, you got me all confused. I guess coming to you for help was a bad idea. Something was. I'll find somebody else who doesn't ask so many questions. I better go. No, no, not yet, little man. You got too many answers. Take your hands off me, Mr. Regan. I never used one of these. But the theory is simple. Just pull the trigger if you can find it. Don't urge me. Open the door. Go on. Sure. Now step away. See you later, Mr. Regan. Hey, Lopa. He made it to the staircase and then the noise came. A couple of bullets flew up the spiral and caught him in the chest. He stopped in midair for a second like a yo yo on a string. And then he toppled over and rolled down. By the time I got to him, he was all used up. Well, McCall and Homicide brought some of the boys out and they took care of them. A fat guy with a head like a plunger took him pictures for a paper and a girl with a leaky fountain pen got the story. Took about an hour and a half to clear my place. But the minute the crowd moved out, the lion moved in. He had a sheet of paper in one hand and his face was lit up like an old maid at a cocktail party. This concerns Louie Desmond and Georgia Bascoby. Interesting. Yeah. Desmond's got a wife, and her name's not Georgia. No, it's Stella. And she's a ripe candidate for a drunk tank. What else do you know about her? She's jealous. Well, there's no record any place of a divorce or of a marriage between Georgia and Desmond. That whole setup's a phony. Tell me why. George's father, name of Peter Bascom, was a furrier. And he was once in on a fur job with the same Louis Desmond. Go on. The old Bascom ended up with a bullet in him and Louie with a pile of dole. How did it work? I can't find out everything. You gotta do something. You know a Max Loper? Never heard of him. You got an address on this Georgia? The larina Hotel, room 406. And Catalina, half Wilshire. All right, the way I figured. An insurance company might be real interested to get hold of her. No, the gas chambers got priority. We figured the swindled first. Collect the fat bonus, then let the city handle her any way it wants. Call me when you get it all sewed up. What are you gonna be doing? Resting at home? I'm all worn out. Yeah, well, that figures. You've been doing a little thinking. The Lorena Hotel. Six stories of plush carpet and gold paint. It was night when I got there, and the neon was on. The buzzer. Brought the door open and Georgia Bascom stood there carrying an overcoat. She had her purse under her arm and it figured she was leaving. When she saw me, she turned on a surprise. Look. Oh, Mr. Regan. Moving out? Just a little errand. It'll keep. Shut the door. Now, see here. Well, that's a lot of nerve. Don't let it bother you. They're bigger things. Like what? A fur job you and Louie are working on. What are you talking about? And a little murder. Throw your purse on the sofa. I will not. Come on, lady. It's getting heavy. Now, open the closet door. Come on. There. I hope you're satisfied. I'm not much on fashions. Read them to me. Three airmen, three sable, 10,000 apiece. More max loafers. Yeah, well, you can't wear them all. You got a friend. I don't need one. All right, sis, what is it? Nothing. That's your version. You could be wrong. When did you marry Desmond? Last week. Bad answer. He's got a wife named Stella Bigamy. He'll get him in trouble. That's his problem. No, it's yours too, if the courts can prove you knew. All right, I didn't marry him. Then why the wedding ring? Hey, you ask a lot of questions. Yeah, I do. Why don't you get out of here? Louie's not new on fur jobs. He knows how much work it is to palm him off. You're talking yourself. Loper never got to outlive a double cross. What are you gonna do with that? Nothing. Homicide will work it out. I didn't kill anybody. You'll work up a sweat proving it. Louie did it. Honest. He killed my stepmother because she knew how the job worked. He gave it to Loper, too. He would. Hiya, friends. It must be raining. The worms are coming to the top. Hello, Louie. Regan's got it figured out. I was just stalling him till you got here. Sure, Georgia, I know, honestly, honest, I didn't mean to say you did. The knockoffs. We'll talk about it later. Better finish it now. You're not gonna be around. We'll see. They got a spot all staked out for you up north. Isn't that interesting? Regan, I got a set of instructions for you. I want you to be real nice and follow them. What's in it for me? You kill me, Seamus. I'm holding all the cards. You want to rake in the pot? I better get going. Lily, we shouldn't be seen together right now. Slow down, baby. I got something for you too. But, Lily. Big mouth. Big mouth. Lucky you didn't have to hit her more than once. She got off easy. Everybody's got 32 teeth. Desmond moved us out of the apartment down the hall. Georgia was beginning to sob, but Desmond wasn't impressed. He held the gun under his coat and walked behind us, careful, like an elephant on a crate of eggs. The button brought the elevator and the three of us went in. And then it started down. When the door swung open on the first floor, a whip of bourbon came floating in, packing a.32. Louie turned white. Stella. Stella. I told him if he kept messing around, he was gonna have trouble at home. Wanna give me the gun? No. What's your name, girly? Georgia. Were you in love with Louie? I. I don't know. Well, go find out. You want it now, Regan? It's empty, you know. Lady, you fixed nothing. What do you mean? Where you're going, you'll all be together again. Well, it was all over fast, like a dollar dinner. The coroner's office sent out some boys for Georgia and Louie and Sanducci picked up Stella. Desmond had himself a pretty good thing do a tie in with a furrier and move the furs across the border with nobody making a fuss. All it was slow work, but 10,000 a week's pretty good pay. And it was real safe. Loper wasn't going to say the furs were even stolen until they were turned into money. Of course, he never got to say it at all. Everything would have been all right if Stella didn't see green every time Louie saw blond. Well, the insurance company thanked us for what we did to expose the fraud. The lion was unhappy, he said. They should have shown their gratitude with something more lasting. They gave it to him. A 1949 pocket calendar. Jack Webb is featured as Jeff Regan with Herb Butterfield as Anthony J. Lyon. It's CBS at the same time next week for more hard boiled action and mystery with Jeff Regan, Investigator written by Larry Roman, produced by Sterling Tracy. Included in tonight's cast were Mary Lansing, Marvin Miller, Pat McGeehan, Laurette Philbrandt, Jack Petruzzi, Yvonne Paty and Sydney Miller. Original music for this program is by Milton Charles. Bob Stevenson speaking. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting Morning. Zoe Got donuts. Jeff Bridges, why are you still living above our garage? Well, I dig the mattress and I want to be in a T mobile commercial like you teach me. So Dana oh no, I'm not really prepared. I couldn't possibly at t mobile get the new iPhone 17 Pro on them. It's designed to be the most powerful iPhone yet and has the ultimate pro camera system. Wow, impressive. Let me try. T Mobile is the best place to get iPhone 17 Pro because they've got the best network. Nice. Jeffrey, you heard them. T Mobile is the best place to get the new iPhone 17 Pro on us with eligible traded in any condition. So what are we having for lunch? Dude, my work here is done. The 24 month bill credits on Experience beyond for well qualified customers plus tax and $35 device connection charge credits and imbalance due if you pay off earlier. Cancel Finance Agreement. IPhone 17 Pro 256 gigs $1099.99 A new line minimum $100 plus a month plan with auto pay plus taxes and fees required. Best mobile network in the US based on analysis by Ooklab Speed Test Intelligence Data 1H 2025 Visit t mobile.com this episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Do you ever think about switching insurance companies to see if you could save some cash? Progressive makes it easy to see if you could save when you bundle your home and auto policies. Try it@progressive.com aggressive casualty insurance company and affiliates. Potential savings will vary. Not available in all states. Marketing is hard, but I'll tell you a little secret. It doesn't have to be. Let me point something out. You're listening to a podcast right now and it's great. You love the host. You seek it out and download it. You listen to it while driving, working out, cooking, even going to the bathroom. Podcasts are a pretty close companion. And this is a podcast ad. Did I get your attention? You can reach great listeners like yourself with podcast advertising from Libsyn Ads. Choose from hundreds of top podcasts offering host endorsements or run a pre produced ad like this one across thousands of shows. To reach your target audience in their favorite podcasts with Libsyn ads, go to libsynads. Com. That's L I B S Y N Ads. Com Today.