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Choice Classic Radio Detectives | Old Time Radio
Broadway Is My Beat: The Thelma Harper Murder Case 05/05/1950
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There they count and catalog and compare the spoil salvaged from the litter of darkness, the materials of pain, the odds and ends of bitterness, the trap of illusion. And you watch them and try to move away, but you can't. One of them. It's Broadway. My beat. The room is dismal and cold. The walls are covered with many coats of green paint. You know that because initials have been gouged into them, because there are scars where fingers have clawed at them. It's a room where pain is brought in off the streets and wrapped in cereal gauze and sent on its way. A police emergency ward close to the East River. A girl wrapped in a brown blanket lies on the table in the center of the room. The naked light bulb draws the color out of her, glitters on her dank hair. And finally, the man who has been bent over her thighs shutters and finds you in a shadow. I can trouble you for a cigarette, Danny. Sure, sure. Here. Thanks. Well, Dr. C. A moment, Danny. Give me a moment. The girl. I'll never adjust to it. The girl. She'll be all right, Danny. I think she'll be all right. So what's wrong with him? This is a question, Danny. That's why I called you. Maybe suicide. Maybe somebody wanted a dead. Pushed her into the river because they wanted a dead. Crazy God telling you she wanted to die. So she picked the river. Who are you? I'm her husband. I don't work at it, though, so I still don't understand why I was called. Maybe you can tell me, mister. This is Danny Clover, a good detective A good man. Show him respect, Mr. Gilford. Yeah, okay. Please, Mr. Clover, will you tell me why I was called down here, please? Maybe they thought you'd shed a tear over your wife. Any other reason, Mr. Clover? We called him Danny to identify the girl. We found one of those 10 cent store identification cards on her. It said she was Janet Guilford, in case of emergency, to notify her husband, Mark Guilford. You see the results? You say your wife wanted to die, Mr. Guilford. You knew about this? Yeah, I knew. She told me often enough. She held it over me like a whip. She beat me with it. How she was going to kill herself. Man like me can only take so much of that, Mr. Clover. Only so much. So you tried to make her wish come true. Try again, Mr. Clover. I haven't been near her in three months. Why would I? I want it to be quiet. It must be quiet. Mrs. Guilford. Don't be frightened, Mrs. Guilford. You're all right. Who are you? Who are you to tell me I'm all right? Who are you? I'm a doctor, Mrs. Gilford. Are you listening to shock. Shock. Mrs. Gilford, please. I hate you. I hate you. I hate all of you goods and mad. What do you get a medal for saving a life I don't want. No one won't. Mrs. Guilford, we brought your husband. Come here, Mr. Guilford. Your husband, Mrs. Guilford. He is very concerned over you. Yeah, yeah. Janet. Take your hands off me. Take them off. Okay. Okay, Mrs. Guilford. Taking your own license. Against the law. Against whose law? Yours. And yours. And his. My husband's. Mrs. Guilford, you're a policeman, aren't you? Yes. I'll tell you something. Because you're a policeman, you didn't let me die when I wanted to die. But I'll die. Even if I have to make you kill me. I'll do something. You have to kill me. Then I'll be dead. Dead. Then Dr. Simsky became impersonal about the whole thing. Somehow there was suddenly a cotton dog in one hand, the hypo in the other. In a few moments, Janet Guilford's protest became sobs. And the sobs trailed off into sleep. And each morning after that, reports were put on my desk. Janet Gilford was in shock. Then she was a little better, taking nourishment. On Monday, they sent me some ink block translation. Janet Guilford was a lot better. Tuesday, she was ashamed of what she had done. Thursday she was released. Then it was Thursday night and a squad car called into headquarters. Central park detail calling the spring night had just been shattered. A woman's been found shot to death a couple hundred yards in back of the zoo. Get down here. I did. Hi, Danny. Right over here. Okay, brief me. What happened up on that flat, Danny? And a sharp. A big rock. Come on. Right over there, that happened. Shot in the back, huh? From up close, I'd say someone had an arm around her with a gun. Find a weapon? No. Maybe it's around. We'll have to wait until daylight to make sure. Attractive woman like that. Well, she tried to be. Got a little more time to look, Danny. Awful lot of makeup anyhow. Too much for this strolling in Central Park. Identification? Yeah, yeah, a wallet. Social Security car, driver's license. Name's Thelma Harper, 1414 Front Street, Bronx. Lisa, it says in a wallet. Let's see. Yeah. A little more flashlight for you. She had a lot of friends. Any nice pictures? Yeah, yeah, she did. I guess one of her friends fooled her. You're getting careless about light fire. Oh, sorry about this. Well, What? I'm not sure. These Coney island snapshots. A man and a woman with their heads stuck to cardboard tops to make them look like hula dancers. Not very clear. It's pretty clear, Danny. I'd say the woman was from artists. Me too. You know what I'd say about the man? I don't say it, so I know. I'd say his name was Mark Guilford. I'd say this is the man whose wife tried to commit suicide a few days ago. At headquarters they gave me Mark Gilford's address. The rooming house on West 16th Street. It was dawn, but already the watch women of the street were leaning out of upstairs windows, their arms folded and resting on pillows to ease the hardships of their occupation. They watched me, classified me, nodded dawn's greeting to each other with their eyes, pointed me out to each other and then discarded me in favor of a yelping dog. The hallway lighted with a 10 watt bulb. I found the door to Mark's room. There was no answer. I tried to not. Then there was the sound of someone coming up the stairs. It was Mark Gilford. Hey, you. What are you doing? You trying to. Hey. Good morning, mark. Oh, it's Mr. Clover of the police department. Come out of Mr. Clover. Janet. Try it again. Let's go into your room. Yeah, sure, sure. Here, I'll turn on the light. It's not cozy, but it's private. Till now. You may have the chair, Mr. Clover. You've been out, Mark? Yeah, sure. I've been out. Big night. Home at dawn every night. It's that way with me, Big. Tell me about tonight. Mind if I wash my face and hands first? No. You don't mind. What's special about tonight? Thelma Harper. Cheers. You mind handing me that towel, Mr. Clover? Thanks. Yeah. Good kids. A lot of fun. Takes a man's mind off of things. Man like me. She was found dead tonight in Central Park. I'll just hang this towel out the window to dry. I always do that and never dry. You didn't hear me, Mark. Thelma Harper was murdered. Shot in the back. I heard you. What do you want me to do? To cry? Scream? Tear my hair out? Man like me, I don't do things like that. But a man like you has your picture taken with Selma at Coney Island. What else does a man like you do, Mark? Like tonight. I work. What? I work. Every night of my life I work. Except holiday. Where? The city power plant. I miss the dynamos. Listen to their whining. One stops whining, lights go out in the street and houses. I coax the dynamo, lights go back on. I do this every night. Tonight too, you can check. We will. Yes. Janet? About Thelma's murder. No. Should I? Yeah, you should. That's what broke Janet and me up. This Selma kid. Between swearing to kill herself and or Thelma, Janet had me on a merry go round. Would figure, wouldn't it, Mr. Clover? You'll stick around her, Mark, in case we need this for anything. Yeah, sure. Glad to. But you'll see, Mr. Clovis, like I told you. That Janet very confused girl. Very. Mark's alibi check. After that, there was only one thing to do. Pick up Janet Guilford. It should have been simple. She'd given us an address. I went there in a squad color. I would have made it, except that the east river stopped me. Somewhere in the middle of the river is where she would have lived. If the address had existed at all. Then an all points bulletin pick up Janet Guilford. She was wanted for questioning in connection with a murder. And all the while a thought was taking shape and trying to get itself heard. Eventually, I would have put it into words if Dr. Simsky hadn't beaten me through it. It was at headquarters. And he started off gently. Come in. Dr. Simpson. Am I interrupting? Then. Then I'll sit. I got a few things on my mind. Me too. I've been thinking that it looks like we both way. I'm sorry, Doctor. Go ahead. You know, when you practice medicine around the police department Something happens, something rubs off and sticks very time sick. For instance, this. A police physician gets his medicine mixed up with motives. I treat a wound, I ask myself what circumstance. What did the will do to this person to produce this hurt? You're getting at something, Dr. Simky. Yeah, yeah, Danny, I am. I'm trying to explain. I'm trying to excuse myself for making a suggestion. Belongs to your department. I'd be happy for it, Danny. Several days ago, a woman named Janet Gilford tried to kill herself. In her hysteria, she swore she would die somehow, even if she made the police kill her. People say all sorts of things under stress, but now, go ahead. I been reading the reports. They suppose Janet killed Thelma Harper. Janet would be a murderess. A woman can be executed. Janet would get her wish she died. Pardon me, Dr. Danny C. Speaking. Mug and Danny, we found Janet Gilford. Good. Where is she? In a flea bag on 3rd Avenue. 2220. You better hurry, Danny. She might not be here long. In this room here, Danny. Oh, no. Yeah, Suicide Promoter squad still working on her. Who found her? I found her. I found her right there where she is now. And I didn't touch a thing. Except. Except what? Well, I kicked out the window. I smelled gas in here and I smelled right away what happened. So I kicked out the window and called you police. Who are you? Mrs. Lamp. I own this awful place. Mr. Lamp left it to me and I run it as a tribute to his nemerates. He told me on his Deathbed, he said, Mrs. LA, I'm leading you. The SL bag I want. Okay, okay. How did you happen to find her? Well, this lady here told me yesterday. She said she might not be home for a couple of days. So I come in to feed her canary and I smelled gas and I saw and kicked in the window and called you police. Yeah, Danny. Yeah, what is it? My poor motor boy just gave me the nod and Janet Guilford's dead. Yeah, Danny. Dead. You are listening to Broadway's Mighty, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. You've got to listen close. On Broadway, that's the only way you can tell if the sound you just heard was laughter or somebody beating back a scream in his throat. Something that makes a lot of difference. Broadway reacts to clowns and murder in pretty nearly the same way. In the matter of Thelma Hopper, a woman who died in Central Park. Broadway was appreciative of the setting. It went to spring in the suicide of Janet Guilford. Broadway passed it off as The Bee production which went with the main feature or as Argentino to said it the next day in my office. This is where I came in, Benny. Huh? This is where I came 20 years ago this very day. What are you talking about? 20 years ago, there sat in that very desk. You are now in France. A lieutenant. Mashallah. His God Amina came to visit him. I walked in, we looked without a word, was hardly spoken. We walked down to the city hall and became Mr. And Mrs. Pataglia. Oh, it's your anniversary. Congratulations. I knew I dragged that out of you. Hey, hey, look, Danny, A new shave. Courtesy of the ever loving Mrs. Pataglia and the shave master. She gave me my face in this. Shows make a handsome couple, huh? Striking disagree simply. Now, Danny, if you don't mind, I think that's enough. Vital shatter. How's about let's get into work, huh? All right, if you put it that way. Frankly, Danny, work is at a low. Imagine that. And I thought we had a murder to work out. You know, I. I just don't understand, Danny. I thought this case was open and shut. Tell me how. Well, Janet Gilford tries to commit suicide. Fails. Is unhappy because she fails. Tell Mahapa, who is gadding about. Janet's husband is found shot to death. Then Janet tries to commit suicide again. Succeeds. One in one makes two. As simple as that? Sure. Janet murders the source of her trouble, which is Thelma. Then Janet turns on the gas. Yeah, it's probably just that way. But what about Thelma Harper? Anything there? No. We have questioned Ms. Harper's friends and enemies with dispatch intelligence. Each one has produced a textbook type alibi which would be tough to crack with a clover. All of them except Holly Morris. Who's Holly Morris? Fella's maid. Why didn't you question her? Well, we can't find her nowhere. As if whoosh. She was up in the puff of smoke. Tagia, get an all points bulletin out on Holly Morris. Find her, Bring her in. Find her. To Taglia. Turn around. Pay attention. Danny, it's mother. Oh. Anything? Nothing. Danny, why don't you tell somebody you're hiding out? Communication. You found me. What do you want? I tracked down every lead on Holly Morris. Seems everybody knows everything about her except where she's disappeared to. Stay with it, Danny. It's a plain to everybody that Janet Gilford committed the murder. What are you building? You'll stay with it. My goodness. Okay, okay. If you're interested, there's a guy waiting for you in your office. What? When I was looking for you a peak in your office as a guider. Danny. I'll keep checking with you. Danny. Danny. Danny. Such a long time no say hiya, Danny. Hi, Eric. What's on your mind, Danny? I could tell by your expression you are very busy in the brain department. So I'll come right to the point. I will not tell you how is Mrs. Newman or about the lousy cab business. What is it? Eh? It's about a Dane by the name of Holly Morris. What about her? I understand the police department needs it. There are bulletins that is affecting the company garage. Her picture. Have you seen this woman report? You know where she is? Gentle, Danny, gentle. Let me at least dramatize you. Yesterday in the afternoon gets into my cab a thing. Take me to the park, she says. I take her through the park. She talks to me about spring and such things. Then take me home, she said. I take her home. The fair is a dollar sixty, I say. She gives me a fin for a tip. This is so you will remember me, she said. When I saw a picture in the garage, I remembered her even better. The generous lady is Holly Mor to take her to a basement apartment and a brownstone. 2967 W. 68th St. Hey, Danny. You'll come to the hospital w. Sometime. It's always open. Ms. Morris? Ms. Morris? Anyone home? Ms. Morris? Are you asleep? I'm from the police. 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 podcasts. 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. Ms. Morris, wake up. Her eyes staring, her mouth open in the silent, ugly grace of a scream. A scream that was never heard because it had been cut off, strangled back into her throat. The thing that did it was a silk stocking knotted, cutting deep into the flesh of her throat. I worked at it. The knot was tight. Tight. And then it crashed across the back of my scalp. It was all pain. Everywhere. All. And it came again. There. What? And the far off voice was washed away. Because it came again. There was the sound running down a long, long closet. But sitting clock. Then nothing. Nothing. Come on. Come on. Come on. Wake up. Wake up. You. You say something I can understand you hear. Wake up. Get up and talk to me. What? What's going on here? Who are you? Dewey. I'm Dewey. What are you doing here? What happened? I'm a policeman. Now you tell me what happened. I'm Dewey. I'm the superhero. Run things, keep the water hot. Complaints apart. What about the girl on the back? That Dewey? Oh, I didn't notice her. I only noticed you. I heard noises, I hurried to the scene. I found your body on the rug. Start all over, huh? What about the girl on the bed? She's a tenant. I like her. She's dead. I just don't believe you. You believe she. Everyone is a potential strangled? Yeah, a little while ago I walked in on it. Whoever strangled Holly Morris tried to beat me to death. I guess you disturbed him. Oh, the fellas will never believe it when I tell. Look dear, you still haven't told me very much about Hollywood. You want to do that now or down at headquarters now or at headquarters now. Then tell me. Well, well, Holly Morris was our latest tenant. She paid her rent a month in advance. Oh, she was lavish with her money in that. She dipped profusely and gave gratuities whether the occasion called vote or not. Obviously a woman of wealth and station. Believe me, that's all I know. Oh, I'd hate to go to headquarters and have a blemish on my record. Yeah, stick around dearly. However, if I can be a further assistance, we'll call you blows. A human skull can take both inside and outside. Take it easy, doctor. Still Danny, you had so much already. You can't take a little more. This is a work of art what they did to your head. You'll like it. Huh? It's like all art, Danny. I don't know much about it, but I know what I'd like. Yes? Do I like this particular masterpiece. I Lancy I don't like. Thanks, doc. Hey, watch it. Oh, you're maligning me, Danny. All my non paying patients say I have such a beautiful bedside manner. There. Fixed up, Danny. Till the next time. How many next times can there be no more for Holly Morris? Why? Can you tell me why? This is even a worse headache for you, isn't it Dan? Three people dead. A heavy responsibility for you, for society. The suicide Janet joins. That's what bothers me. If it weren't suicide. Stay where you are, Danny. I'll answer. First aid room. Dr. Simky speaking. But. But you can't. Lieutenant Clover. I'll take it, Doctor. Lieutenant Clover speaking. Oh, Mr. Clover, I insisted on talking to you. He was so nice and so polite. You remember me, the fleabag lady, huh? Oh. Oh, yes, yes. What's on your mind, Mr. Lance? The bird, Mr. Clover. What? The bird. The little canary that belonged to poor Mrs. Guilford. The one in her room, remember? What about it? Well, I was just wondering about the law in these matters. The law about a dead person's property. You know, the heirs and so forth and their lawful ground. Mrs. Lamp, please get to the point. Well, I'm just wondering if Mrs. Guilford has no heirs. Please, may I keep the little bird? I've grown so attached to it. Oh, the melody makes up right out of its own little head. It still sings. Oh, yes. Like a bird. Keep it, Mrs. Lamb. Keep it. There'll be no other errors. Oh, thank you. Thank you, Doctor. What then? The headache. You did good. It doesn't bother me anymore. Hey. Hey. Who gets on here? Danny Clover? Is that you, Mark? Hey, Danny. Come on up and sit for the next. Okay. Found the chat. Walk, Danny. Be careful. Only got handrails at strategic places. You can walk out into the air if you ain't careful. How you feeling, boy? In this height, does it get you in the stomach right of sight? You know, I never been in a power plant before. Those dynamo. Watch it, Danny. What's the blow torch? Yeah, this conduit pipe. Sprung a leak A little. Well, job, you caught me right in the mix. Don't let me just disturb you now. Go ahead. Go ahead, boy. What's on your mind? Few and far between. That I get to talk to someone on this job, with all this machinery? The baby. I can appreciate it. Ah, these dynamos run themselves. I only wish I had their brain. Oh, why the nighttime call, Danny? You like it here, huh? You like your work? It pays. You're going to have to find a replacement, Mark. I was wondering how you were going to pray. There's three of them. Why did you have to kill them? Wasn't easy. Took my lifetime to build up to it. You almost got away with it. I figured I did. What happened? We found out your wife didn't commit suicide. A bird this big lived in the room where your wife died. The gas in that room wasn't enough to kill a canary. Why should it kill your wife? Imagine that. A bird, huh? Meaning your wife was dead before you turned on the gas. Suffocated. I figure about the same effect as illuminating gas. Yeah, I read up on that one. Imagine that when you're a bird. Why Holly, Mark? Why did you have to tell her? She was around when I had my Argument with Thelma first. That paid her off. And then she got greedy. So I changed my mind. Killing got easier all the time. Buy the argument to Thelma. Thelma was. Was saying me goodbye. After my wife tried to drown herself. Thelma suddenly wanted no pawn. So you killed her. Shot her in the park. And my wife got blamed for it. For her. Let's go, Mark. You've been sensible up to now, Danny. It's been a pleasure listening to you. Let's go. After what I can do to people? Kill them? I found out I can do that that way you ask. Anyone will give that fight on that horse m. Oh, you know I can't do that. Uhoh. Reach me. Cut. Again. My arms. I fixed arms while I'm taking you. Come on. No, you won't take me. You won't take me. Danny Hart. Come back here. Daddy, you'll never. His screen preceded him as he fell from above. Then, in that sudden swift time, the face masked in horror, the eyes pleading in the mind as he clawed the air past me. A man's awful recognition that he's dead. Then the instant was over. There was nothing. It dawn touches Broadway now. It bleeds the color out of the neon, turns the gold of the spectaculars into drum. And the remnants of night are driven back into the earth. You walk the gray street. From behind the doorway you hear an old sound. The sound of weeping. You know that the nighttime will never leave. It's found a refuge. It's Broadway. The godliest, the most violent. The lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway. My Beast. Broadway's Mighty stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover with Charles Salford of Tartaglia. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. The musical score was composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. Included in the cast tonight were Jane Webb, Eleanor Audley, Jack Crucian, Sheldon Leonard, Bert Hollins and Stanley Parra.