Transcript
Max Carados (0:00)
Foreign.
Frank Knight (0:10)
This is Case Closed crime stories from the golden age of radio. Welcome back to Case Closed, your weekly hour of old time radio crime, which you can find every Wednesday at relicradio.com. if you'd like to help support this show, visit donate. Relicradio.com or click on one of the support links. The show notes got some downloadable sets for certain donation amounts, though any amount is always appreciated and helpful. My thanks as always to those who have helped out. Thanks for joining me. This week we'll begin our hour with Murder Clinic and hear their episode from August 18, 1942, titled the Holloway Flat Tragedy. After that, it's the adventures of Philip Marlowe and his story from July 30, 1949, titled the Mexican Boat Ride.
Max Carados (1:05)
Murder Clinic. Stories of the world's great detectives of fiction, men against murder. Each week at this time, wor Mutual invites you to Murder Clinic where you'll meet one member of this select band in his most interesting case. The curtains part. In our amphitheater of mystery, all is dark, save for one brilliant spotlight. And out of the shadows comes Max Carados. Oh, Mr. Carados. Look out. Look out, sir. There's a step down there. May I help you? No, no, no, no, no. I can get along perfectly. Don't bother, Mr. Knight. I can see in the dark. Mr. Carados, I thought that you. You. You thought I was blind. Well, you're right, I am. But I'm lit pretty well, thank you. Yes, I see that you do. But tell me, don't you find your blindness an enormous handicap in your detective work? On the contrary, it prevents me from being deceived by the obvious. I must rely on my other senses, which are more reliable, I assure you. But Mr. Carrados, I really don't. Ah, you admit it. And yet you have eyes. Well, I shall try to convince your ears, my friend. Let me tell you the story of the Holloway Flat tragedy in which those who had eyes saw nothing. You may recall Louis Carlyle, my very good friend and associate. He was a private inquiry agent and often did me the honor of asking my help in some of his more complex cases. One morning I dropped in at his office. Parkinson was with me, of course. He has been my personal attendant and my physical eyes for many years. Louis was a bit bewildered by a letter that had arrived in the morning mail. What do you make of this letter, Max? It's certainly out of the ordinary run of my correspondence.
Philip Marlowe (3:37)
Good.
Max Carados (3:37)
Bond paper, letterhead engraved Albert Henry Polish, written by hand. I see. Let's see what he has to Say important. See you alone. Absolute Privacy. Will call. 10 o' clock tomorrow morning.
