Inspector Lefever / Narrator (5:41)

Yeah.

Michael Shane (5:42)

Okay, let's try it again. Shane. Who is he? I'm stuck with the same ancillary fever. I'd never laid eyes on him until about 10 seconds before you got here. Yeah. All I know is this guy sent me a hundred buck bill by way the ship's cook to come down here. And arrest him. Okay, So I came down here. He was hanging. Didn't send word why he wanted to be arrested? Nope. Wonder if we knew the net was closing in. Thought he'd have a better shake this way. I don't follow you. You know who this guy is? Or was. Dykes. No identification, Inspector. There's your answer, Shane. Yeah, but maybe you got a hunch this could be our boy. We don't know. No way to tell now. Well, he must have given a name when he reserved his cabin. Legal or send me a thing. Might as well be Houlahan. You wouldn't care to tell me who you think he might be? That's right. Huh? I wouldn't. Oh, well, boys, this has been nice. I think maybe, though, I better be getting back to Tom. It is, of course, if you don't mind. No, we don't mind. We got nothing on you, Shane. Not now. Well, it might be a good idea for you to get back to town. Only just don't leave town. Well, of course, all I could do at that point was send Inspector lefever an RSVP to his cordial invitation to remain in New Orleans. My RSVP read, yes, Inspector. About then, the coroner arrived, and I followed the inspector and Sergeant Dykes down the gangway and along the pier to the street at the end where their car was. There was a little lunch counter nearby with a few assorted floaters lounging around. Among them a skinny, nervous, slippery character, appropriately nicknamed the Weasel Guy, who made his living selling information and anything else he could steal. I walked by the stand. Weasel looked at me, rolled his cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other, let one of his eyelids droop a little. I got the message. I watched the two plane close and drive away. And sure enough, pretty soon, the Weasel eased over to me. Hello, Mikey. What's on your mind? Want to talk to you. What about? It's big, Mikey. And crooked. Nah, Mikey, you got it wrong. It's big and little. That'd be the day. Oh, I'm giving it to you straight. It's hot, Mikey. Okay, come on. We'll go have a cup of coffee. Nah, too many people. Come on. I know where we can talk. I followed Weasel part way out on the pier again to a deserted warehouse. He slid the door open and motioned me to follow. It was dark as pitch inside, but that seemed to be the way Weasel wanted it. Now we can talk, Mikey. Okay, start. It's about the guy hanging from the rope. What about him? That's what I'm telling you, I go aboard that boat to see an old pal. So I'm looking for him back at this. This cabin door is open a little, so I look inside him. There's a guy swinging by his neck. Well, don't leave me there. Oh, gee, it really rocks you to see something like that. But then in a minute, I. I kind of got a hold of myself when I go on in and I. I sort of seized the guy. Why? Why? Because. Well, I figured I. I want to find out who he is. Yeah. You mean you figure you lift his wallet? Oh, now, Mike, you know, that's about the one thing I figured you'd draw the line at robbing a dead man. I thought I was wrong, I guess. Now quit trying to sell that yarn about wanting to find out who he is. Well, okay, okay, Mikey. Fella's got to make a buck somewhere. But. But I did find out who the guy is. Wanky. All right, let's have it then. There were some papers in his wallet. Lettuce, stuff like that. And they. They show that this guy is Dick. Dick Gross. Victor Groves. The name hit me like a bulldozer. All of a sudden, a lot of things started making sense. His name was in the headlines because Victor Groves was a hired killer. But he was only a name. Nobody'd ever seen him except his victims. And they naturally were never in a position to identify him. But why Victor Groze had sent the money to me to arrest him. Why he decided to hang himself before I got there still didn't add up. Neither did Weasel's angle in lifting the papers. Don't you get the pitch, Mikey? You and me, we're the only ones who know the step is Victor grows.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (10:02)

So?

Michael Shane (10:02)

So? So there ought to be a payoff. The cops probably fork over something to find that out so then they could call off the hunt. Got it all figured out, haven't you, Weasel? Sure, sure, I. I don't dare go near the cops. But you can. So you handle the arrangements and. And we split the take right down the middle, huh? I'll have to think it over. Think it over nothing. We gotta work fast. All right, give me the papers. Oh, no, no, no.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (10:28)

Weasel.

Michael Shane (10:29)

Weasel keeps the papers. Come on, come on, let's have them. No, Mikey. Give them to me or it's no deal. But Mikey not give them my save. Okay, okay. Only I don't know why I can trust you. You don't. T. Always kidding, eh, Mikey? Yeah, always kidding. Look, I'll get in touch with you tomorrow morning near the lunch stand. Give you my answer then. In the meantime, I'll keep the papers in a safe place. I put the wallet in my pocket, stepped back out on the pier. Weasel stood watching me as I started down the pier. I wondered if he had a hunch about what was going on in my mind. If he did, there was going to be trouble. Because what was going on in my mind was I was going to march right down to police headquarters and turn those papers in. Yeah, Michael was going to be very law abiding this time. And then something happened that froze me in my tracks. There was a scream from 50 yards behind me. From Weasel. I whirled around. The scream ended in a horrible gurgle. I pounded back toward him, but he had already crumpled up.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (11:34)

Over.

Michael Shane (11:34)

In the piercing, even in the dim light, I could see his throat had been cut. Very recently. I started around the warehouse after the killer. All of a sudden I was spread eagle from the air and my head splatted on the pier. And a million stars exploded in front of my eyes. And then all the lights went out. In a moment, we'll return to Mike Shane and the case of the Generous Killer. It all started when a hundred dollar bill was dropped on my desk by a five foot high ship's cook who told me a passenger on a tramp steamer wanted me to come down and arrest him. So I went and found the passenger swinging from the end of a rope. Inspector Lefever arrived about then and found no identification on him. Then pretty soon, a slippery character named Weasel led me into a warehouse and told me he'd lifted the papers from the de Papers that proved the guy was Victor Gross, a hired killer that nobody'd ever seen. I got the papers away from Weasel and started down the pier. Weasel got his throat cut. I ran around the warehouse after the killer when a hand grabbed my ankle and I knocked myself out on the pier. Then after a while, the haze started thinning out a little. There I was riding along in the backseat of a squad car with one of LaFever's boys, Sergeant Dykes. Shane, what are you trying to do? Shake down the police force? Shake down it? Now wait a minute, Dice. Let's have it slow and clear and from the beginning, okay? Only maybe I won't be telling you anything you don't already know. A couple of weeks ago, Victor Gross killed one of the boys on the force. Yeah, I read the papers. Then we find you standing in the State room watching a man swinging at the end of a rope. Look, Sergeant, I told you, the ship's cook brought me a hundred buck bill from this passenger to come down and arrest him. Uh, when we left you, we drove around the block and walked back to the ship. The cook tells us he hasn't been ashore all day.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (13:34)

Well, he's liar.

Michael Shane (13:35)

Says he hardly ever goes ashore. Hates land, weighs a shade over 300 and has trouble getting around 300 the G. Oh, no. Oh, yeah. So we start bound the gangway, going to look for you, but you save us the trouble. There's a scream farther out on the pier. And then someone running. He got out. Find a stoolie named Weasel lying dead in you unconscious. Then we find Victor Gross. Identification papers on you. I got him from the Weasel. He lifted them from the dead man.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (14:03)

Oh, yeah.

Michael Shane (14:04)

Look, Dykes, you got it all wrong. Gross committed suicide. It don't boil. Shane. The nuts in the rope and some of the bruises on Gross's neck told us it was no suicide. It was murder. He was strangled. Well, about that time, I was willing to sell my Social Security number very cheap. Two murders with me sitting in the chief suspect's chair on both of them. I guess it was a little after one in the morning when my cell door opened and clanged shut again. I looked up. Inspector Lefebvre was standing there. Shane. Hello, Inspector. Let's talk. Why? It's been a losing game for me so far. Seems to be quite a case against you. Yeah, according to just about everybody but me. Look, Inspector, I didn't kill Gross. I didn't lift his papers, and I didn't kill the Weasel. That might be kind of hard to prove about the Weasel, that is. Maybe somebody will tell me how I managed to slit his throat, get rid of the knife, and then knock myself out. You could have managed it.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (15:03)

Okay.

Michael Shane (15:03)

Okay. But I don't think you did.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (15:06)

What?

Michael Shane (15:06)

No, I don't think you killed the Weasel. And I'm pretty sure you didn't kill Victor Groves. What do you think I've been trying to tell you boys all night? Yeah, you know, Shane, the passenger was choked to death. Who identified him? He is not Victor Groves. He's not Gross. Well, then. Then it adds up why Weasel was killed. Because the real Victor Gross found out Weasel had lifted the papers from the dead man and thought Weasel still had them. Could have been that way. It has to be that way, Inspector. Look, Victor Gross knows you're out to get him. So he gets a drifter from the waterfront into that stateroom on the tramp steam, where he kills the guy, plants his own papers on him, strings him up to make it look like suicide. And then he. Hey, wait a minute. That little guy who brought me the hundred said he was the ship's cook. He must have been the real Victor Crows. That's the way it's beginning to look, Shane. He wants you to come down, discover the body. And everybody thinks Gross committed suicide. The case is closed and the pressure's off. The real Gross, that little guy who would have been the fade, that he. I can't even remember much. What? He'll try to remember. Will you? Yeah, but I wasn't paying much attention. I remember he was very small. What about the face? Thin face, straight nose, dark eyes. That's about it. Not enough. The best I can do. All right, we're releasing you, Jane. Well, I won't say it's about time, Inspector, but it is about time. Hey, wait a minute. Anyone besides the police force know that the dead passenger has been identified as someone other than Gross? No. That's what I thought. And something else. Does anyone know I've been arrested and don't have Groz's papers on me anymore? Nobody outside knows that. Thanks a lot. I'll stay here. Mm. Mm. We're letting you go. I like it here. All of a sudden you can't stay here. Look, I know what you've been leading up to. As far as Gross is concerned, I've still got the papers. You think I'm gonna walk the streets of New Orleans waiting for him to make a pass at me? We do. Get yourself another boy.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (17:06)

This one.

Michael Shane (17:06)

Just quick. One of our boys will tell you. He'll grab Groves. If Groves comes after you. Look, Inspector, you don't know what you're asking me wrong there, Shane. I know just what I'm asking you to do. Make a target out of yourself. You know why? I don't care why. I'm not gonna. Because a killer's still running around loose. A killer nobody can identify. And he'll strike again soon because he guns not only for hire, but for pleasure. He's vicious. He's got to be stopped. And this is one way that might work. Now, how about it? Look, inspector, you and your boys have been giving me a rough time. You throw me in a clink. You. Okay, I'll do it. This ought to do, Shane.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (17:41)

Sure. Thanks.

Michael Shane (17:42)

One place is as good as another. You got it straight now? Two straight. I'm to go back to my office building, then start out alone on foot. Right. Keep away from crowds and keep away from the brightly lit streets. Oh, fine. What am I Supposed to do? Roost in a dark alley somewhere. Just keep away from the bright lights. And get this. When you leave your office building, walk south a block. Then go any direction you want, because that's the point. Our boy will start tailing you from one block south of your office. Yeah? Yeah. There's one more thing. What is it? Good luck. I found an all night cab stand and grabbed a taxi back to my office building. Just as I was going to start walking, a woman came out of the building and crossed the street. A short woman. Then as I stood there watching her, it dawned on me. As I turned north, in sort of a daze, I was realizing my job was just twice as tough as I'd thought. Because it had just hit me that Victor Groves was plenty small enough to pass for a woman. By the time I digested that pleasant thought, I realized I was about a block and a half from my office. I slowed down, looked around, streetsful, but he deserted. I spotted the car as soon as it turned the corner and came toward me. Very slowly I stopped. Car kept coming. I was hoping Inspector Lefebvre's boy was awfully close and ready. Then the car was slowing still more opposite me. It stopped, window toward me. Started rolling down and I couldn't see inside. So I waited. And then. Hey.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (19:18)

What?

Michael Shane (19:19)

How do I get to St. Louis Bridge from here? I told him. Stood there watching him drive away. Took out my handkerchief and mopped my face a little. Then I started walking again. A little lady with a tray of flowers had been standing in the entrance of a bar. Started crossing a narrow street toward me. I stopped. She had a shawl over her head. She was short. I stood there and watched as she came up to me. A flower, monsieur. A flower for your lapel perhaps? Yeah, yeah, sure. You're working late tonight. Oh, I always work late. Here, a nice carnation. Okay, thanks. Here. Oh, merci, monsieur. Oh, but monsieur. It is too much, monsieur. When I was already around the corner height I didn't somehow care about staying in one place too long. Thing was getting to me a little. It seemed like all the inhabitants of New Orleans that I'd seen in the last half hour had shrunk about six inches. Suddenly, like. Like the guy coming down the sidewalk told me right now I couldn't tell where he'd come from. He was just suddenly there. I was right near the mouth of an alley. For a minute I was tempted to dive into it. But I just stood there waiting. He was taking his time like the other people. I'd wait Before, I couldn't see his face. It's pretty close now. The third time I was hoping the fever's boy had the situation well in hand. Then the guy was right in front of me. Hey, pal, happen to have a light on you? I still couldn't see his face. I couldn't tell from his voice. I took a match out of my pocket. I held it out and scratched it with my thumbnail. A little flame squirted up and outlined his face. It was a long face, didn't belong to Victor Gross. The guy puffed a couple of times on a cigarette, thanked me and walked off. My limb began sick. Moving for a minute. I was having that let down feeling of relief again. When I heard the dog whimpering with pain in the alley behind me. I didn't even hesitate. I walked into the alley. As soon as I did, I realized there was no dog. There never had been. It was just a little too late, though. Her hand shot around my throat. I could feel the point of a knife in my ribs. And it was a soft voice in my ear. Well, Mr. Shane, we meet again, don't we? In a moment. We'll be back with a thrilling climax to tonight's Michael Shane adventure. Not much I can say. The hand around my throat told me I wasn't supposed to say anything. Victor Gross had gotten to me at last. Inspector Lafever's boy was nowhere in sight. Now, Mr. Shane, the identification papers, please. I don't have them on me. Victor, please, I have very little time. I tell you, I don't have them on me. They're not in your office. I have searched it thoroughly. You do not have them on you. So I have wasted my time following you. But perhaps it will not be entirely wasted.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (22:27)

Time to shame.

Michael Shane (22:29)

What do you mean? Simply that under the circumstances, I fortunately have no other alternative but to dispose of you. Oh, look. Quiet. I had heard the scuffling steps a second or two before. Was hoping Gross hadn't heard them, but he had. They just stood there in the alley. And they knew if I made a single sound, I'd get that knife, all six inches of it. The steps came nearer to the mouth of the alley and they turned into the alley. And a little figure loomed up in front of us. The scream pulled Grosser's eyes off me just long enough. I swung my elbow back hard. I was lucky. The knife went flying across the alley. Then I got hold of one of those fingers that were wrapped around my throat. I put everything I had into it just enough. The fingers Snapped and my hand fell away and I swung my fist hard hit the ghost. Bounced off the wall and flopped to the ground and lay still. Just then, a flashlight stabbed into the alley. Big guy followed it in. It was a feverish boy, so everything was okay. And then I remembered the little old woman. She was cowering over at one side of the alley, trembling. I went over to her. It was the flower lady. A lol of people I was expecting. You weren't the one, but I was following you. I saw you enter the alley from down the block. Yeah, but why? You would not stop. I called to you. You gave me too much money. Monsieur. What are you talking about? I gave you a buck and told.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (23:46)

You to keep the money.

Michael Shane (23:47)

But then you just did. Monsieur, it was not $1. It was a hundred dollar bill. I knew you had made a mistake. I had to return it to you. Well, you know that it's quite a nice touch. Gross's own hundred buck bill is the thing that traps him. What? Nothing. But do me a favor. Keep the doll with him. I kind of think you want it. Well, that was just about. Except I had a bone to pick with Inspector Lafever. Later in his office. I brought it up. You know that plain clothesman of yours who was supposed to be tailing me? Inspector? He wasn't exactly Johnny on the spot. I was beginning to think he'd never show up. He almost didn't. But it wasn't his fault. He was lucky to find you at all. What do you mean? You remember what your instructions were about leaving your office tonight? Yeah. I was to walk south a block and your boy would start telling me from there. Right. You maybe had a lot on your mind when you left your office. I say, I just realized Groves might be disguised as a woman, I guess. Oh, no. Oh, yeah. I walked north instead of south. You mean all the time. Your boy wasn't even close. That's right. You were all alone. Inspector, you know where I could get a good compass?

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (25:25)

Cheap.

Michael Shane (25:38)

This is your director, Bill Russo, again. Our story is based on characters created by Brett Halliday. The music is composed and conducted by John Duffy and Michael Shane is portrayed by Jeff Chandler. The New Adventures of Michael Shane is a Don W. Sharp production, transcribed in Hollywood and distributed exclusively by the Broadcasters Guild. Next week, you'll hear Michael Shane in another thrilling adventure from mysterious and colorful New Orleans.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (26:35)

Portables. Hi, Fides Radiograms. Now there's a Blaupunkt for everyone. The makers of Epic Pure Sunflower Oil.

Michael Shane (26:57)

Purine and Pret Cooking fat. Yum yum. Peanut butter, maple margarine and niblets cheese.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (27:04)

Twists present the epic casebook. In which Inspector Carr investigates. Good evening. A few weeks ago I went to a race meeting at Germstone at which Jolly Drummer was the hot favorite for the main race. He was beaten by Uncle Ben from the Oppenheimer stable. Now, whenever this sort of thing happens, certain wiseacres will hint darkly of sinister goings on and what have you. Well, as I went back with friends of mine, there is no doubt that Jolly Drummer finished the race somewhat lame. What some people fail to realize is that animals are like human beings. They have their off days just as we do. Don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that the sport of kings is entirely free from malpractice. Where there are great rewards to be won, there are certain to be persons of questionable character who will perpetrate every trickery under the sun in order to get a share of the pickings. Why all this? Well, I'm going to tell you of a leading racehorse owner who was found dead under circumstances that left no one in doubt that murder had been committed. I've called my story Death is the Victor. I've already indicated my interest in the sport of kings. And although I was not a frequent race goer in England, one, an annual event I looked forward to was a minor classic in the English racing calendar. It was the Thousand Guineas run at Sandown Park. The invitation used to come from one of the stewards who was a friend of mine. His name was Ernest Giles. Well, what do you think of the favorite for the guineas, Giles? I like it very much. I can't understand it. Can't understand what? The favorite Gay Waste crew was even money a week ago. Now it's three to one. I think it's the class horse. I hope you're right. I backed it. Well, we'll soon know. It's almost time for the alt.

Michael Shane (29:34)

The white tag has happened.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (29:35)

They're under st orders. They're coming in July now. It's a good line. No one's playing up. I don't think there'll be any trouble. And that goes the belt. Away to a flank start. Sublime is showing us the running, followed.

Michael Shane (29:52)

By April Fool, Gay Wasteful, the favourite.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (29:54)

It's a happy third in the central coast. Just behind her is Insulated insulators making forward move. They've just reached the three furlong posts. Insulators take her boat.

Michael Shane (30:04)

The grey mare is striding up really well.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (30:06)

Gay Wasteful has moved up their Tool Race and Less seems to be in trouble Race and Lester Lobster won't take.

Michael Shane (30:12)

Part in the race.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (30:13)

Brave Wasteland has taken over. Just behind us. Insulated still showing the weight. Needle running Insulated, striding out really well.

Michael Shane (30:21)

L Boy has come on the scene. Love a boy. But there's only a furlong to go.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (30:24)

And is still Gay Wasteful followed by Insulator.

Michael Shane (30:28)

Looks like a match between these two. No, no, Gateway is starting a head. Gateway School looks like winning it now. I don't think Insulator can catch her. Yes, it's Gay Wasteland and please the Link. Clear points ladies, with Lavaboy third. There's no question about it. Gay Weston's favorite, a clear winner. Did you back it?

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (30:51)

I did Rock the Bookmakers. I took two to one in one. Fine notes. Well, don't let the money go to your head. I won't. I ought to go to the unsaddling and congratulate the owner. Care to come with me, Tattoo? Congratulations, Scotty. Great win. Thank you. Bob the great horse. Meet my guest, Inspector Car. Oh, nice to meet you, Inspector. I've heard a great deal about you. Of course. Congratulations, sir. Thank you again. Wastrel's a great horse. I trust you all coming to join in a celebration drinks after the last race. Delighted. Ah, here comes the old Rinsulated. Well done, Dawes, old boy. Ran a great race. I thought I was going to beat you at one time, Scotty. But you didn't, Dawes. Oh, by the way, Inspector Car, meet Mr. Dawes. Hi, Mr. Dawes. Hi, Inspector. Now, I've booked the Tutor Uberages for a celebration tonight and you're all invited. Strangely precipitant under the circumstances. You're coming, Inspector. Thank you. For something like a hundred years it has been traditional that the winner of the guineas should give a banquet for the officials and others connected with the race. First I joined the others in a victory drink in the stewards room and then left the course. There were one or two things to clear up at the Yard before my plans to spend a weekend of late. As it transpired, my plans went awry. Car speaking Operations. You sir. Oh, don't tell me. Look, I'm off for the weekend. My duty ends or it will end in about three minutes. I've just come back from the racing well, sir. A man has been found stabbed to death at the Percy Simpson Racing stables. Percy? What the. Yes, sir. Killed with a pitchfork. According to the local manor. A man called Scotty Bathis. But I was with him less than two hours ago. Ah, no Peace for the wicked, you say? Stables. Are they near the course? Well, sir, the call came through from Westerham. I've notified Dr. McPherson. Right. Get through to transport. Tell him to have a car waiting outside with a plan of how to get to the stable. Roger. It had been many years since I visited this small country town which nestled at the foot of the hill known as the Widow. Very soon we were driving through a gate which said, Danger. Horses exercising.

Michael Shane (33:39)

I.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (33:39)

Inspector Carr? Yes, that's right. My name's Simpson. We've been told to expect you. It's all absolutely unbelievable. Yes, I'm afraid murder always seems beyond the realms of reality. I understand that you found the body. Well, it's all such a shock to see him lying there with a pitchfork in his back. Besides, he hadn't. Well, he hadn't given me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I realize this is a great shock to you, Mr. Simpson. It's more than that, Inspector. Mr. Bayliss said that if he won the race, he'd give me the state money. That's 1,000 guineas. And now I'll. I'm sorry if I sound so mercenary. We've been having a bad patch lately and, well, I was banking on the money. Most unfortunate. Is that the stable over there? Is that where the body was found? Yes. There's a police doctor with the body. Let's go over, shall we? I know I shouldn't be Talking about money, Mr. Bayless lying there. Hello, Doc. Ah, is this where it happened, Mac? I stabbed with a pitchfork from behind. It was stabbed at least a dozen times. It's quite horrible. The print man have been here. Any luck? No, nothing at all.

Michael Shane (34:53)

You?

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (34:54)

No find any footprints in this turf? And what about the time of his death? It was pretty warm in that stable. I wouldn't have liked to hazard. Too close, I guess. I got here about half an hour ago. Let me see. That's upper six. He's been dead about an hour. I would say that he was killed at 5:30 or thereabouts. 5:30, eh? I was having a drink with him at 3:00'. Clock, you will know. Were you at the races? Yes, and I backed the poor chap's horse. Oh, well, let's take a look at him. I inspected the stable. It became obvious that instead of housing animals, it was more of a place of storage. There I saw sacks of forage, harness saddles and the like. And the lifeless body of Scotty Baylis. It was difficult to resist a feeling of compassion for the man who, but a few hours ago, achieved one of the most cherished ambitions to become the winner of the Guineas. And yet not live to receive the tributes of the weekend newspapers. Oh, dear. Sad, isn't it, hey? Although it's all the same to you. I'll go over to Western Station to arrange for the removal of the. There's nothing more I can do here. Okay, Mac. See you back at the Yard. Good day to you, Mr. Simpson. Good day, Doctor. Have you got transport? I thank you. My car's at the other side of the stables. All right, Mr. Simpson, I'm ready to take your statement. Oh, by the way, I saw you at the end saddling, didn't I? Yes, naturally. Well, let's go from there, shall we? What did you do then? Oh, look here, Inspector, you don't think that I did. Susan, don't be alarmed. Everyone is suspect until we get to the killer. Now, after the unsaddling of Gay Wastral, what did you do? I came back here. Immediately? Yes. Mr. Baylis asked me if I'd like to join him in a drink. But I always make it a golden rule to put me horses in the horse box and take them back to the stable as soon as possible. Well, after the way she ran, I knew Gay Wastrel would become favorite. The Silver Challenge Cup. And what time did you get back here? About 3 o'. Clock. It's only a 15 minute drive from the course. The Reese was over at 2:30. Well, go on then. What happened? Well, usual. Ted, that's one of the grooms who drove the horse box helped me to stable the girl. I took my car and drove home. And what about the group? Well, he and his wife live in a cottage on my land. Who was left behind?

Michael Shane (37:27)

No one.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (37:28)

My house adjoins the stables. It's only 250 yards away. At six o' clock I picked up two to feed the animals. I see. Is that your car over there? No, that belongs to Mr. Baylis. I run that station wagon. So it comes to this. The race was run at 2:15. The unsettling took place about 2:30. You got back here by 3, stabled the animal and left for home with your groom. Is that right? Yes. And you say that the last time you saw Mr. Bayless alive is when the winner was being unsaddled? I swear it. Hmm. Can you prove that you left the racecourse soon after the race? Yes. The traffic cop on duty at the gate is irregular. He'll remember me. What I can't understand, Mr. Simpson, is this why should the killer lure his victim here? Why the stables? Tell me, what about your groom, Ted, inspector?

Michael Shane (38:22)

Oh, never.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (38:23)

Mr. Baylis had been very generous to Ted. We've had many owners in these stables, Mr. Dawes, Mr. Gilby. None of them have been as generous as Mr. Bayless. Why should he want to kill him? Somebody did. All right, don't look so alarmed. I don't think it's you, but I have a sneaking suspicion who that somebody is. Having reassured the trainer of Gay Waste Draw that he was not number one on the list of suspects, I asked him to show me the layout of the place. A survey made it clear that the stable grounds were completely shut off from view. They could not be seen from either the main house or the groom's cottage. I decided to have a word with Ernest Giles, my host of the races. I'll help you all I can, Carr, but it won't be much. How well did you know Bayliss? Did you know him very well?

Michael Shane (39:29)

I wouldn't say very well.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (39:30)

I liked the man. Rarely met outside the racecourse. What I'm trying to find out is whether this murder is a gambling killing or not. All we know about Mr. Baylis is that he's the owner of a fairly successful boot factory. He's a bachelor and he owns half a dozen horses trained by Simpson. In which case you know as much as I do. See, I understand that you as the architect were responsible for some of the extensions at Sandown. Yes, I was. What I'm trying to find out is the possibility of going from Sandown Racecourse to Westrum, avoiding any of the main gates or roads. That's easily answered. Come over here, Inspector. Now, there's your map of Sandyne. Yes. Now, up here to the northeast is Westrum. And there are quite a number of the trailers, are there? You see, it's only seven miles away. Now, a car would lead the racecourse through this opening here between the trees.

Michael Shane (40:29)

Yes.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (40:29)

Cut through this ground, be a bit bumpy, but easy to do. And that would take one onto the old dirt road? Good heavens, yes. That way one would come out by Simpson's racing stables. That's interesting. Very interesting. Now, supposing you had to go to Simpson Stables. Is that the route you'd take? Almost certainly. It cuts off about four miles. Imagine the traffic after a Saturday afternoon's racing. One took main road yet Simpson. I see. Simpson wouldn't want to drive his horse Box over that bumpy road. No, of course not. Not with an expensive animal like Gay.

Michael Shane (41:05)

Wastrel in the box.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (41:07)

Now, I Come to think of it, I remember Bayliss asking me to look at a yearling he'd bought at a sale. We left the racecourse and took that old road. It gives us a lead but also a headache. Oh, why? Well, our highly efficient ex branch will have to check on the movements of a lot of people. People who left the racecourse. Including me? Including you, Giles. No, but quite seriously, whoever did this thing will be concerned to establish his alibi. What about the winning jockey, for instance? Leatherby? Yeah, I saw him leave with Bayliss. You did, did you? What time was that? Well, you were there, Inspector. Oh, no, no, you left a few minutes before. Soon after. We all toasted the winner in the steward's room. And you say that jockey left with Baylis? Yes. Listen, Inspector, I don't know what you're thinking, but Leatherby used to ride for me when he was an apprentice. I'd stake my reputation on the fact that there's no straighter jockey racing. You may be right, Giles, but Baylis left about three and he' dead two and a half hours later. I'm going to have a word with le Mr. Baylis. I don't know anything about the boss's death. Why question me? Because I'm hoping that Mr. Baylis did or said something in your presence which could give me a lead. You would want the murderer caught, wouldn't you? Yes, of course. You didn't say that with any conviction. Well, listen, Governor, I don't know why you've come to see me, but I don't know anything about it, see? Well, I hardly knew the gent. This is the first time I wrote for him. No, is it?

Michael Shane (42:39)

Yes, it is.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (42:41)

The trainer, Mr. Simpson, booked me for the ride. He did, did he? I understand that after the unsaddling and the awarding of the cup and the drinks in the steward's room, you and Mr. Bayliss left together, is that right? That's right, Inspector. It wasn't long after you left. I remember you going. What time was that? Oh, I'm not sure. About half past three, I suppose. Where'd you both go to? Well, I had no more riding engagements that day. Mr. Baylis told me that if I won, he'd have a nice present for me. He said he'd meet me at the Members Lounge. When he saw me ready to go after the stewards drink, he said, I'll come with you. Well, he came with me to the Members Lounge. There was no one there and he said, I'm glad we settled our differences and gave me a check for 200 quid for winning the race. Differences. What differences? Well, it's. That's something rather personal. Don't be a fool, Leatherbee. He's been murdered. Don't you understand? You are involved. Oh, no, no, no, wait a minute. You don't think that. All I say is just be completely frank with me. What were the differences about? Well, sir, I was offered the mount on Insulated. I was about to accept when Mr. Simpson said that Mr. Baylis would like me to ride Gay Wastrell. Go on. Was her. I knew the breeding of Gay Wastrel. I knew she'd had the beating of every other horse. So I agreed to ride the filly. And Mr. Bailey seemed very pleased. He said to me, I want you to win that race. I want you to win that race more than anything in the world. I've never had a big win. Look, if you're first past the post, there'll be an additional 200 for you. Thank you, sir. If she's anything like Mr. Simpson says she is, she'll win easily. Sir, I believe she broke the course record in her trial gallop. Ah, that's quite true. I'm glad you're taking them out. Very pleased indeed. They tell me that you know the course better than any other jockey. That's a very tricky man at the fore, you know. I know it, sir, but I'll win, don't you worry. I see. But you said there were differences.

Michael Shane (44:40)

Yes, sir.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (44:41)

Well, speak up. Or were they? Well, sir, I don't like to tell tales about the dead. What were they? Come on, out with it. Well, Inspector, about a week ago Mr.

Michael Shane (44:50)

Baylis sent for me.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (44:53)

I've been hearing some disconcerting rumors concerning Mr. Dawes is fully insulated. They say she's developed a sensational turn of speed. Oh, don't you worry about that, sir. They're a different class. Well, there's nothing in Insulated's breathing that comes anywhere nearer. Supposing I told you it would be worth a thousand pounds to you if you didn't win the guineas. Are you asking me to pull her up? I've never pulled an horse in my life, Mr. Bayliss, and I never will. You see, I'm in somewhat of a spot. Ah, the devil take him. Are you sure? Are you sure as Simpson? That Gay wastel has the beating of the others even insulated? Yes, sir, I'm sure. I'm absolutely positive. Of course, if there's heavy rain. All right, just forget what I've said.

Michael Shane (45:42)

You go in there and win.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (45:46)

That's all I meant, sir. Although he asked me to pull the race in the beginning, he turned out to be a true gentleman after all. So you got your check for £200 as a reward for winning on Gay Waste draw? Yes, sir. And then what happened? Well, as I say, we were in the Members Lounge. Another drink, Brother Beef? No, thank you, sir. Gotta watch me wait, you know. Excuse me, Mr. B, sir, I. What is it? You want it on the fat? Oh, thank you very much. Excuse me. Thanks for the tip.

Michael Shane (46:17)

Hot.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (46:17)

£2 on it. Oh, glad you won. I had quite a few quid on her myself, so I can't understand why she started at such a good price. That must have been a fortune on insulated. It was ginger Jack and butts for Mr. Doll. Said he himself put a thousand pounds.

Michael Shane (46:33)

On his insulated at 5 to 1.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (46:36)

Mind you had the measure of insulated it as soon as I called on Gay Waste, I could have won by three links. Even more. Yeah, I'm afraid I've got to go. I want it rather urgently. Oh, Stuart, here is a wee celebration for you too. Thank you.

Michael Shane (46:50)

Thank you very much, sir.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (46:52)

I'll see you at the Tudor Room tonight, Netherby. With your wife, of course. Thank you very much, sir. Walked out and I never saw him again. I see. He didn't tell you where he was going or who he was going to meet? No, sir, he didn't. Everything that I've been so far confirmed my suspicions. I decided to put off questioning the man I suspected of the murder until all the other ends were tied up. I had another word with the helpful Mr. Giles. Giles, I understand it's a rigid rule that no outside telephone calls can be connected to members or even owners other than extremely urgent ones. Yes, that's right. If a doctor is wanted urgently or someone attending the race meeting has a relative who's met with a serious accident, then they're the exception to the rule. Well, then, what happens? Do you put the call through to wherever they may be on the course? Oh, no, that lends itself to a lot of abuses.

Michael Shane (47:54)

Particularly.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (47:55)

Particularly racing malpractices. You know, no one's allowed to talk racing on the telephone. But Leatherbeer tells me that Bayliss received a telephone call whilst they were drinking in the members lounge after the race. It must have been an internal call. That's allowed. Oh, is that easily checked? Oh, yes. We're not on a dialing system, you know. Does that mean that anyone on the course can telephone anyone else on the course? Oh, Good heavens, no. As a matter of fact, it's a privilege afforded to us stewards, owners and such like. What's the procedure?

Michael Shane (48:25)

Well, one goes along to the switchboard.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (48:27)

Which is at the back of the general office and asks a favor of being put through to the weighing room, the members lounge and so on. Used much? Oh no. As I say, we don't like to encourage this sort of thing, but if you want to find out any more about that. Mr. Godley was on duty. He'd have taken the telephone request. I see. Thanks, Charles. Now's the investigation going? Fine. With a bit of luck the case will be closed within a matter of hours. Come in. Ah, Sergeant Smith. You're right, sir. This fellow Godly remembers Mr. Dawes asking him to raise Mr. Baylis in the members lounge. He says that Dawes spoke to Bayliss for quite a while and this fellow Godly remembers him well because he gave him a ten bob tip. Ah, for once generosity will contribute to the hanging of a man. And what about the car park attendant? The attendant says that Dawes took his car out of the owner's hangar at about 20 past four and left by the north gate. That leads onto the old road and that leads to Simpson Stables. Right, we've got enough. Ask Mr. Dawes to come and see me. Right, sir. Dawes was summoned for 2:30 the following afternoon. In the meantime, ex branch and operations were getting out all they could. Within a few hours our informers and special agents had unearthed very interesting pieces of information. There's no doubt that using intermediaries in the underworld and those in gambling circles, Dawes had attempted to bring off a gambling coup. He'd wagered thousands. Had Gay wastrel lost and insulated one, his gain would have been astronomical. Had Bayless double crossed him, I was soon to know. I don't know why you sent for me, Inspector. Well, I'm checking on everyone's movements. Where were you at half past five the time when Baylis was killed? You know as well as I do that the last race wasn't run until 5:20. It was on the racecourse. Can you prove it? Were you with anybody, Inspector? You obviously know nothing about racing. All of us are lone wolves. We occasionally have a drink with each other. There are over 60,000 people on the racecourse. Do you expect me to produce them all as alibis? You swear you never left the course? Could you imagine I would with a last race not yet run? Why did you telephone Baylis? What do you mean? And why did you take your car out at 20 minutes past four. And why haven't you paid your debts? You lost a lot of money on Insulated, didn't you? That's my affair. So he double crossed you on Gay Ways Trolley. Didn't you think for one moment that the reason he decided to run the race straight was that he had a conscience that he might report you to the Jockey Club? Report me? You must be mad. It was his idea. He got me to put a fortune on Insulated so that he could get the generous odds of 2 to 1 on his own filly. What a dirty trick. Yes, yes. The respectable Mr. Baelish. Why are you confessing, Mr. Dawes? Because if you are, I must warn you that any. He didn't confess that. But he did later. There's no doubt that his allegations were correct. What Leatherbeer regarded as a change of heart in the owner of Gay Wastrell was really a change of approach. Baylis realized that with Dawes and his gambling promise plunging all the money on Insulated, he would get very good odds on his own horse and that would pay him to run the race straight. A nice piece of double cross that cost him his life. Dawes gave me a semblance of a clue soon after the race. Do you remember how he gave himself away? Well, listen to the commercial and I'll be back to tell you. Well, what was it that Dawes said that registered with me to the extent that I felt he was involved? It was this after the unsaddling Scotty said, I'll hook the Tudor Room at Claridge's for a celebration tonight.

Michael Shane (53:28)

You're all invited.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (53:29)

Strangely precipitate under the circumstances. Why strangely precipitate under the circumstances? Surely as a favorite he anticipated he was going to win and made arrangements accordingly. Unless he was not supposed to anticipate a win. So I found Mr. Dawes's remarks strange under those circumstances. The moral? Racehorse owners never interfere with a jockey riding, lest you get pitchforked into trouble. Good night.

Michael Shane (54:16)

The Epic Casebook was produced by Michael.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (54:18)

Silver for the makers of Epic Pure.

Michael Shane (54:21)

Sunflower Oil, Maple Margarine, Yum Yum Peanut.

Inspector Lefever / Narrator (54:24)

Butter and Niblets Cheese Twists with Hugh Ross as Inspector Carr. Listen again next Thursday night at 9:30.

Michael Shane (54:32)

To another exciting story from our Epic Casebook.