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Choice Classic Radio Detectives | Old Time Radio
Broadway Is My Beat: The Ernie Cauldwell Murder Case 04/07/1950
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See terms@discover.com credit card welcome to Choice Classic Radio, where we bring to you the greatest old time radio shows like us on Facebook. Subscribe to us on YouTube and thank you for donating@ChoiceClassicRadio.com Broadway's My Beat. From Times Square to Columbus Circle. The gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway's my beat. With Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Broadway, where the torrent of night races through the neon chasm and you're caught up in it and whirled and crushed against the shrieking and the shadows. Then you wake and the night is gone. There's nothing, only the debris of night and the stain of its rage. You count yourself lucky because you think you're one of the few who got away. Then you take a good look and you know you didn't make it. It's Broadway, My beat. Sergeant Battaglia had told me an hour ago she was waiting. Then a little later, he came in and told me again. Then I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. The fact of her presence had been whispering to me from the reports I pretended had to be filled out from the desk drawers that needed cleaning and had been cleaned only yesterday. I couldn't put it off any longer. So I told Tartaglia to shower in. You can go in now, Mrs. Webster. Thank you. Here, here, Mrs. Webster. I will get you a chair. Sit down, Mrs. Webster. Go on, sit down. It's perfectly all right to sit down. Thank you very much, Mr. Tartaglia. Sergeant Tartaglia? That's right. Mrs. Webster, maybe you can do something. Hey, shut the door, Tartaglia. And don't put any calls through for a while, huh? All right, then. Thank you for letting me talk to you, Mr. Clover. It's all right. Forgive me for the way I look. I came over in my lunch hour. And this new. It's regulation for the girls who work on the drill press, so our hair won't get caught. I didn't have time to. Oh, you look fine, Mrs. Webster. Fine. You know why I'm here, don't you, Mr. Clover? That's why you didn't want to see me right off. There's nothing we can do. Your husband confessed to the murder. I know Jimmy didn't do it, Mr. Clover. I don't know any other way to say it, Any other way to convince you. I just know Jimmy couldn't kill a man. Not Jimmy. Then why did he confess? Your husband seems a normal, healthy boy with a good brain. Why would he confess to a killing he didn't do? I don't know. Maybe because he thinks someone else did it. Someone? You. Maybe. Janine loves me. He'd do a thing like that for someone he loved. Just talk to him, Mr. Clover. That's all I ask. You'll see then what kind of a boy he is. You'll see. When is it going to be, Ms. Weston? The baby? In August. We want a little girl. I think. You're still working. Oh, yes. The Fearless Vacuum Cleaner Company is very nice to me. To all of us. They said I could keep working for as long as I thought it was all right. You take care of yourself, Ms. West. It doesn't matter about me. It's Jimmy. Will you talk to him? Mr. Clover, I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I made you overstay your lunch hour. Just tell them to call me. I'll explain it to them. Will you talk to Jimmy? All right, Mrs. Webster. Huh? Talk to him. So you're not wearing the blue Sage. Who are you? Fanny Clover. You're Padre. I didn't ask for no Padre. It's too early. Anyhow, it goes trial, the judge looking sad, shaving my hair. You'll get your turn. I'm a policeman. Oh. So? I just talked to your wife, Jimmy. What for? What does he have to talk to her for? Talk to me. I'm right here in cell 42, tier 3. Day and night, 24 hours. So you'll do it? Talk to me and leave her alone. Leave Peggy alone? What do you want with her anyhow? What will she tell you that I won't. But I killed Ernie Caldwell. I killed him. That's all you need to know, Jimmy. Yeah. Yeah. What do you want? You killed Caldwell. You're sure? How can a man not be sure of shooting somebody? Go ahead, you know. Go ahead, you tell me. How can a man kill a guy up close and not know about it? If he were drunk? No, not me. Not drunk. What did you do with the gun you killed Ernie with? I killed him. I shot him. I threw the gun away. Where? In a trash can? A sewer? I don't remember. I. I was upset. I can't remember a thing after I pulled the trigger. Why did you kill him? You know Ernie Caldwell? Why ask me? I know Ernie, CW I know about the man he came here with. Travis Faulkner, Deputy sheriff from Norcross County. That's a thousand miles from here, Jimmy. That's how far I ran. But they caught me running from Ernie and Faulkner. Yeah. I stole a drum of gasoline once, Clover. They put me to building county roads. I couldn't see doing that. I slugged a guard and ran a thousand miles to New York. You did pretty well in New York, Jimmy. Job a fine wife. Leave her out, huh? Peggy knew all about what happened in Norcross County. Maybe she killed Caldwell. Maybe you know that. Maybe that's why you're saying you're eas. Yeah, that's better. Listen to me. Listen to me, Clover. I killed Ernie Caldwell. I shot him and dragged his body into an alley. I saw him standing there and I shot him dead. If the boy had had a brass band or a rooftop, he couldn't have announced it with more clarity, more defiance. He had motive, all right. A man had chased him across, miles across. This man could grind out, destroy the life the boy had built for himself, for his wife, for his coming child. And for this, the boy shot him dead. There was motive and there was confession. And I stayed with it and didn't stop to ask myself why. The Department of Records gave me the hotel address of Travis Faulkner, Deputy Sheriff, Norcross County. I called him, told him I wanted to talk to him. Sheriff Faulkner told me there was a lot of New York left for him to see. If I wanted to talk to him, I'd have to meet him at the penny arcade on 56th Street. Just a minute, Mr. Clover. I'll be right with you. I know. Hot diggity ziggity, dog. It's too bad you can't share this with me, Mrs. Clover. Cause I ain't gonna let you. Turkish Delight a night in a Harem. Think you can deny yourself for a little while, Faulkner? Just long enough to talk to me. Well, I'll tell you, my mouth's been watering to get at those guns over there. Why don't you talk to me while I do a little shooting? What do you want to talk to a country sheriff about? Lieutenant Jimmy Webster. Let's talk about him. Just saying his name leaves a dirty taste in my mouth, Lieutenant. What are you New York Police waiting for? Why don't you execute him right now? Electric chair. That's how you go about it out here, isn't it? That's right, Sheriff. That's too good for him. Quick like that. You know what? I could get down on my knees and Beg you for, Mr. Clover? No, I don't. Just leave me alone in a cell with him. Just for a little while. Hey, this looks like a good little cheap gun. I'll treat you, Lieutenant, if you'd care to shoot with me. I'm sorry, Mr. Alex. Gonna use that gun, were you now? Were you really going to do that, boy? Leave him alone, Fulton. I said leave him alone. It's all right, son. You can use this gun. Yeah, it's all right, but you won't get in my way, will you, boy? No. Here, take the gun. I don't want it. I changed my mind. It's all right. Take it. Oh, thanks. Thanks, mister, but I changed my mind. We do a lot of things different here, Faulkner. Get used to it. You expect me to get used to that? I couldn't. No more than I could get used to the idea that my buddy was murdered right here in your fair city. Ernie Caldwell. Ernie was the best friend a man ever had. We were close, Ernie and me. And that pig killed him just because Ernie was doing his duty. Maybe he didn't kill Ernie. You not only do things different, you think different, don't you, Lieutenant? Boy's wife been crying on you. When you got to New York, you and Caldwell, you didn't try to take Webster right away. Your signed statement says you were here almost a day and a night before you tried to take him. Why was that? I'll tell you. Only because you asked me polite, Lieutenant. Ernie and me, we had an old acquaintance to look up. Just to talk over old times. Oh, God, this shooting is going to rob me. My sponge got five pennies for a nickel at dinner. I poured five Brighton shining coppers into his hand toil worn with pulling slot machine levers. I said no when he offered me the nickel. Said, well, I'll thank you thank you, I said. Goodbye. It was 3:30 when I left the arcade. What I had was nothing. What I had was nothing at all. The thought turned into those words all the way uptown, through Manhattan, under the river and into Brooklyn. That's what I had to tell Peggy Webster. I had nothing at all. At the gate of the fearless Vacuum Cleaner Company, the guard and I exchanged badge numbers and he said, Mrs. Webster's bench. Right down there, Peggy. Oh. Oh, hello, Mr. Clover. Wait. Will you wait just a minute? Sure. Now. Oh, it was wonderful of you to come up here, Mr. Clover. I'm grateful. You know I'm grateful. Of course. Peggy. Yes, what is it, Mr. Clover? What? You'll keep trying, won't you? Now that you know that Jimmy didn't commit that murder? I'm sure, Peggy. Yes. You know that even if Jimmy is not guilty of this murder, he's still wanted in another state. He's an escaped convict. One way or another, we're going to have to extradite him. I know that. I'll wait for him, Mr. Clover. I'll keep trying to. I know you will. Look. Look at this, Mr. Clover. Yeah. Oh, pretty. It's real pretty. I bet you don't even know what it is. No. No, I don't. But it's pretty. It's a rubber pad for a crib, Mr. Clover. Here. These boxes by my bench. They gave me a shower during the afternoon break. Blankets, bibs, diapers, nighties. This is strange. What is this? This package. Messenger brought it a little while ago. The guard passed it through because he knew about the shower. Here, I'll show you. Ah. Pillowcase. Hand embroidered. It's lovely. But what's strange about it? The card that came with it from here. Here it is. From Sophie Driscoll, Aetna Hotel. And don't you see, I don't know any Sophie Driscoll. I thought she was a girl working here at the shop. I checked and she isn't. I just don't know anyone by that name. Oh, that's quitting time, Mr. Clover. Yeah. I'll take you home, Peggy. And Peggy. Yes, I'll take that. The Etna Hotel gives you a greeting. Yeah. Sign the alias here and tell me whether it's going to be with or without. Huh? With or without a bath. Buster. Sophie Driscoll. Sorry. But come to think of it, I'm not sorry at all. Just. Huh. Buster, read this. You gotta wait if you want me to do that. I gotta find my glasses, and that's tough to do without my glasses. Yeah, but the shape of it spells badge and the six hazy spots on it spell police. It does, huh? What about Sophie Driscoll? What about her? Sleeping it off, buster. So she can wake up and get herself another bonded reason for sleeping it off. Show me. Sure. A hop, skip and a jump down the hall. Let's walk, huh? Sure. Sophie wanted criminal or something goose pimply like that. Oh, top drawer. Confidential, huh? Well, here's the room under the bed. So. Hey, Sophie really out, wouldn't you say so, Buster? Something like that. Ms. Driscoll. Hey, Ms. Driscoll. Wake up. Wake up. Hey. On her hands, running down. No. That's what? That's bloody, ain't it, Buster? Sophie. Hey, Sophie. Save it. She won't answer. I had a question to ask her, but she won't answer. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. One thing about Broadway, if you've got talent, if you've got a twist that'll lift you out of the mediocre, Broadway will pat you lovingly on the head. And thank you for the diversion. The opportunities are infinite. You can spell mop with two P's or confess to a murder, or be found stabbed to death on a narrow bed in a small room in a dismal hotel. My part of it was trying to make the last two fit together. Why, I asked myself, had a boy confessed to a murder? Why, I queried, had an anonymous woman sent his wife a present? Why, I asked, had the anonymous woman met violent death at headquarters the next morning, Sergeant Gino Tartaglia had his own approach. I've been asking myself questions, Danny, and no answer. However, in the matter of the death of Sophie Driscoll, the boys at technical report the following. No fingerprints on the murder weapon and, and to wit, thousands of fingerprints in that hotel room, perhaps going back to 1912. Conclusion, to wit, we have indubitably encountered a riddle as to the death of Sophie Driscoll. Indubitably. What about the boy, Jimmy Webster? How is he? I peeked into a cell on the way up here. He sits there. I remark to myself that he must be in a strange and storm tossed mood. Indubitably. You've been improving your vocabulary again, Detective. Ah, you noticed it, eh, Danny? Every night Mrs. Cartaglia reads me to sleep with a word from the dictionary. Last night it was indubitably. I'm happy for you. What else, Tataglia? What else is a morsel which may or may not Tweak your thinking, bones. To wit, Sophie Driscoll, according to our intelligence, was a real sick girl. Oh, how the moments she wasn't drinking were too few and far between. However, she was trying to get rid of a sickness. She was a patient of a phony who calls himself Doc Rundle. A doc who makes the Bowery his home and his office. The end of my report. Goodbye to Daglia. You going someplace, Danny? Yeah. To Doc Run Rundle. Doc Rundle. Where did you turn, boy? I'm having a daydream now. Now I take a little sedative to calm me down. Podbean, your message amplified. Ready to share your message with the world? Start your podcast journey with Podbean. Podbean, the AI powered all in one podcast platform. Thousands of businesses and enterprises trust Podbean to launch their podcast. Use Podbean to record your podcast. Use PodBean AI to optimize your podcast. Use PodBean AI to turn your blog into a podcast. Use Podbean to distribute your podcast everywhere. Launch your podcast on podbean today. Now. Now. Now. You're sick, aren't you, boy? Sick, sick. Well, I'll heal you, kill you, sit you on the path of sanitary, living the beautiful life, sans alcohol, sans nightmares, sans sense. Then you can do all that? It's a promise, boy. I can show you testimonials that'll make you want to kiss my feet. Now, the question is, how do you want the cure? I have two methods, equally costly, equally desirable. Mental therapy or electrotherapy. My patients have a choice. Which one did you use on Sophie Dredskill? Sophie. Sophie recommended you to me. Sophie was murdered before she could tell me anything. I knew she was murdered. It brought great sorrow to all of us. To me especially. Share it with me, doctor. Tell me about Sophie. Give me a good sanitary reason why I should do that. I'm from the police. Sanitary enough. Doc. You think I murdered Sophie? She came here often? Every day. Every day? From the day I made her believe I could help her. And then last Tuesday. What happened last Tuesday? She had an appointment with me. I set aside two hours for her. For her alone, from seven to nine. Sophie didn't keep it. That upset you? Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes. So much so that I went to her room and beat on her door. Then what? She screamed at me. Wouldn't let me in. All my work was wiped out. I knew it. She screamed at me and laughed. I knew she'd been drinking again. There were men with her, laughing and making her wrong to Renounce me on my way Last Tuesday, huh? A murder was committed that night. Did you know that, Doc? The murder of a deputy sheriff named Ernie Caldwell. You accuse me of that, too? You are sick. I could help you some other time, Doc. But you'll be here if I need you, huh, Doc? After that, there was nothing at all. Doc Rundle went into another daydream and I went through the exit. Back at headquarters, I wrote it all down. Sophie Driscoll had had a party the night of the murder of Ernie Cott Caldwell. A couple of days later, Sophie Driscoll was murdered. Then I drew a line and added it up. Sophie Driscoll was a key, and Sophie Driscoll was dead. There was a cipher missing. The way it happened was simple enough. The phone rang. Father Garrity of St. Christopher's Church wanted to see me about Sophie Driscoll. Father Garrity? Yes, boy. You must be Mr. Clovar from the police. That's right. This way, please. Through this door. Please be seated. Thank you. About Sophie Driscoll. She was rather tall, Mr. Clover. Is that the one? Heavy set, with blond hair? Yes. Sophie Driscoll came to me about two years ago. She was in trouble. Oh? She came to me with this letter. It's a letter of introduction from Father Westfall. You see, this is sometimes done, a person moves away from home. One parish priest will write a letter of introduction to the priest of the new parish. This is such a letter. I see. I assured Ms. Driscoll that she would be welcome to our flock, and she attended church quite regularly for a while. Then it became very infrequent that she attended services. Finally, she stopped coming altogether. I haven't seen her for a year. And I thought just one thing, father. Where did Ms. Driscoll come from? Oh, come from. Well, why, here it is right here on the letter. It's postmarked Norcross County. Have a nice talk with Father Garrity, Danny. You're eating again. To Daglia. Well, Danny, I am eating circus peanuts. Mrs. Tartaglia Heist and from the Tartaglia children. Have some. Thanks, I will. Well, go ahead. Help yourself, Danny. Thank you. Ain't it awful the way nothing tastes so good as a stolen confection? Awful. Yeah. Have a nice talk with the father. We realize the father told me Sophie Driscoll came from Norcross County. Hey, Danny, you think maybe the Father has got a grape find into the police department, huh? I only mentioned the possibility because this is exactly the morsel of information I was going to bequeath upon you that Sophie Driscoll did indeed come from North Cross County. Take your peanuts and get out of here. Well, before you throw me out again, Danny, there is more to this bit of information than meets the ear. You don't say. Yeah, Danny. Yeah. It seems that for a series of misdemeanors, this aforementioned Sophie Driscoll was asked to leave the county at a time when the deputy sheriff was by the name of Travis Faulkner, who heretofore I have not mentioned Faulkner. Yeah, the same Faulkner who even now is in our city. The same who came after Jimmy Webster. The same who. Hey, this being a deputy sheriff, this is pretty steady work, huh, Nanny? Yeah, thank you very much, Sergeant De Taglia. You've been real assiduous. I have the missing cipher. Now, it could add up. It could add up to the exoneration of a boy who had confessed to a murder he didn't do. Or it could add up to zero and the boy's execution. Either way, it had to be done. I went to Faulkner's hotel. He was out. They told me. I asked where. They didn't know. They told me. Seeing the sights, maybe. Deputy Sheriff Faulkner was crazy about the sights of New York. They told me. So I put out an all points bulletin. I needed a long talk with Deputy Faulkner. And at 11 at night, the call came from a cabby. He had driven Faulkner to points of interest. Faulkner liked the one called the Cozy Club in Harlem. Very interesting. Yeah, he should be there now. I put in a call to the Harlem precinct. Have them alert Detective Anderson. I wanted Anderson with me. You made good time, Lieutenant. Hi, Anderson. They tell me you asked for me. Any special reason? No, I. I think I'm going to grab a killer. I'd just like to have you along. I might need you. Any special killer? Ernie Caldwell's, maybe? Sophie Driscoll's, maybe. Caldwell, the deputy sheriff from Norcos County. Well, you got a boy who confessed to that. Didn't we have? But I like this one better. Well, it's not always a matter of what you like, Lieutenant. No. No, it isn't. But it all adds up. So neat. Anderson, Travis Faulkner. That's who you want? Yeah. Faulkner came to New York with Caldwell. They were supposed to pick up Jimmy Webster, but they waited. They got a right to do that. Yeah, but they called on an old acquaintance. Faulkner told me that. So? So the old acquaintance was Sophie Driscoll, also from Norcross County. They had a party for old times sake. A drunken party, I've been told. Well, that could Happen with old acquaintance. Yeah. And it could happen that a drunken Faulkner could kill his buddy pal because there was a falling out among old acquaintances. And Sophie witnessed the murder. When she learned Jimmy was being held for it, she tried to make it up to him as a little gift for his baby. So you figured Sophie was killed because she might have got sorry enough to spill the whole business, huh? Yeah, but that still doesn't wipe out the boy's confession. No. He thought his wife killed Caldwell so that Caldwell couldn't take Jimmy away from her. That could wipe it out, couldn't it? Yeah, it could. Let's go in. And there he is. Anderson, over there. That man at the corner table. Yeah. Come on. Hi, Faulkner. Well, now. How are you, Clover? Hi. Sit down. Sit down, Clover. Who's your friend? My name's Anderson. Detective Anderson. A detective now? Well, feature it, will ya? Okay, Faulkner. Let's get out of here. You kidding? You're suddenly gone simple. My minimum charge ain't up yet. Things can't wait. Faulkner, you're charged with murder. Yeah, I am. Huh. You've really gone simple, ain't you? Two murders. Ernie Caldwell and Sophie Driscoll. You ready? Ready? No, I ain't ready. It ain't murder, killing two like that. You ain't taking me, Clover Watcher. Danny, his gun. Give me. I sure will. Oh, Faultner, so help me. You too, Clover. You can have it, too. No, he can't. I watched Faulkner. There was a kind of fascination in watching a man like Faulkner. The sudden swift eb of his life as he crumpled there before me, his eyes closing over the final fact that the bullet from Anderson's gun had done it all. Anderson smiled up at me, ashamed of the hurt in his leg. He said something about I was right after all. Broadway's happy now. There's easy laughter and a hot trumpet scurls its song out into the grinning mob. And a man puts his hand in a trash can. It's the journey you made because you had no choice. The excursion to the end. Of all the streets in the world, it's Broadway. The gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mild in the world. Broadway. My beat. Broadway's My Beat Stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover, with Charles Calvert as Tartaglia. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. The musical score was composed and conducted by Alexander Courage.