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Choice Classic Radio Detectives | Old Time Radio
Broadway Is My Beat: The Tommy Stafford Murder Case 04/14/1950
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Your message amplified. Ready to share your message with the world? Start your podcast journey with Podbean. Podbean. Podbean. Podbean. Podbean, the AI powered all in one podcast platform. Thousands of businesses and enterprises trust Podbean to launch their podcasts. Launch your podcast on podbean today. My school uses Podbean. My church too. I love it. I really do. 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. In the sunlight of April, Broadway shimmers like an enchanted garden. It's the place where golden women glide past mirrors of chrome. You're happy because the reflection of all their smiles were for you. And nighttime comes and the sudden whirlpools of color are flung skyward from jeweled fountains. And you're happy. It's the once upon a time land you've searched for. In the morning you wish it never happened. It's Broadway, my beat. It was 11:30 at night and I was on my way home from headquarters. I didn't make it. A squad car picked me up at 43rd street and a man told me my working day wasn't over. They were from the technical lab. They were on their way to the scene of the crime, which was on Coney island, which was where they were taking me, which is where I went to Coney island through a crowd gathered around a roller coaster to a man who was waiting for me. Hi, Danny. What's up? Guy there in the third seat of this car, dead. Danny? Uh huh. Stand. Who stabbed him? Mugavan. Out there in the faceless crowd. You don't know, huh? Not an idea. Except that somebody sat behind him and pushed a knife into him. Witnesses? Nope. Maybe this guy screamed. Who pays any attention to a scream on a roller coaster? Who found him? Him? Yeah. Me. I found him. And you're who? Frank Curcio. I run this ride. Here's what, mister. This guy, this stead guy sitting there, he had a half a dozen tickets in his hat band. And if he tried, I just went over to him, took a ticket, didn't disturb him. Didn't you notice something was wrong? People react different to roller coasters. To him, I figure it's restful. I didn't disturb him until he ran out of tickets. Then I disturbed him and I found out I couldn't disturb him. And I yelled, police. That check McEvin. He told me just that. Danny. Identification on this man? Uh huh. Yeah. His wallet. Name? Thomas Stafford. Address here. Rooming house in Brooklyn. Employed as a bonded runner for one Gerald Faufman, jeweler. Gerald who? Faufman. We turn it over to the technical boys now, huh? And as we performed the rites that come after violent death, the great amusement park wound down and became still. And the distant song of the carousel was washed out to se. And the crowd shivered against the rising mist and against the memory that death had walked the carnival, that somewhere on the midway its wing had touched them. In the morning I had a call to make to the place of one Gerald Fuffman, Esquire. Jewels. Etc. That's what it said on the window inside. Gerald Fuffman, Esq. Was very elegant. Very, etc. Welcome to my establishment. Make yourself comfortable. Browse, indulge. Etc. Etc. Thank you, I will. If you permit me, I could be of rather remarkable assistance. What you had in mind, was it for an amount? A girl, a mother, a wife, a souvenir of 20 years. Splendid service in your splendid factory. That would be nice. Could you make a replica of this in diamonds? Dear boy, I can make a replica of anything. In anything. Baby shoes, a lover's broken heart, a suit of armor. Etc. Etc. Take another look. I have. It's a badge. A police badge. My dear boy, I don't know quite how to put this, but I'm afraid my establishment is quite beyond a policeman's means. You put it very neat. That leaves us nothing to talk about. Except maybe Tommy Stafford. Tommy? But how could you have known? Known what, Mr. Faucman? I was just on the verge of reporting it to the police. Tommy has absconded with a hundred thousand dollars worth of jewels. A pearl necklace, priceless bubbles. Oh. Oh, yes. Last night at 8:00, he was to deliver them to Madam Sybil in Coney Island. He and his co, Messenger Ed Drosco. They never appeared at Madame Sybil's. They vanished. Tommy Stafford is dead. Dead? Tommy. Tommy? Stabbed to death on a roller coaster. Oh, that's horrible. So unnecessary. It makes everything so desolate. So, etc. Etc. You say Tommy and this Aadrasca were to deliver the jewels to Madame Sibyl? Yes. She had already paid me a $10,000 deposit last night. She was to pay me the rest on delivery. She informed me that the messengers hadn't come. I told her to be patient, that they would most assuredly make the delivery. I didn't know. I didn't know Ed Drasko. Do you have his address? He roomed with Tommy. You think Ed killed the boy? You think he killed him and stole the jewels? I don't know. What do you think, Mr. Puffman? I called headquarters and told them to bring in a man named Ed Drasko. Then it was back to Coney island again at noon. Coney looked like a desert of unwound toys. I asked a man where I could find the establishment of Madame Sibyl. He tried to tout me to the establishment of Madame Bernice. Who was a girl who could really read bumps on the head. But I held out for Madam Sybil. He sighed, nodded his head that way. And I went. It was a wood framed shack with a couple of windows decked out in silhouettes of a man's head. A man's head with bumps on them. Each bump with a special name. The sign on the door said walk in. I did. Madame Sybil offers herself to meditation. However, she will be with you within this moment in time. That's nice of Madam Sybil. Mind if I sit down? Please. Who are you? Victor. Upon this level, this is the name by which I am known. Victor, huh? Well, I'll tell you, Victor. Reflect inwardly. Seek to attune yourself to the vibrations. I've already done that, Victor. You know what? I bet if you unwrap that towel on your head, it'll read Hotel New Yorker. What's your business here, Mac? Police business. You will forgive Madam Sybil, Madame Sybil was lost. Police. Police. Can't you tell a cop yet, Sybil? What's he want? What do you want here, mister? I understand you paid a deposit on some jewels. You paid the deposit and the jewels were stolen. I like a customer like you. You don't ask questions, you make statements. And all I do is say yes. The easiest kind of customer to have. Now we'll take it off a customer and client basis. You think this dodge is phony, huh? How right you are. Look at him. Look at Victor. Put your towel on straight, Victor. Let me help you. Hold still. Oh, cut it out, will ya? And the grease paint. Every day he forgets to cover one ear. Ever see a man with two different colored ears? Turn around, Victor. Let him see. Okay, okay. Look, mister, I always level with the law. I'm gonna show you. What? Who I really am. Right here in this wall safe. Because I like to level. No secrets from the police, Sybil Spence. That's who I am. See? The jewel, Sybil? They in the safe, too. Want to look? Yeah, yeah, I do. Nothing, huh? See? On the level, how is it that you can afford $100,000 worth of jewelry, Sybil? Because I got $100,000 more. More than that. Nine concessions right here in Coney. I got money. There's a law. And why this corny little pitch reading heads? I like it. There's a law. The rest of the story, Sibyl, like in the papers. I paid a down deposit. Fuffman sent the jewels. He says. Puffman says I didn't get them. Tell him, Victor. Tell the police. She didn't get him. And neither Tommy Stafford or Ed Draska showed up. Tell him, Victor. Neither one showed up. Welcome back to headquarters, Danny. Welcome back from the cotton candy and the two foot hot dogs of Coney Island. After these heavenly pleasures, it must be rough to get back into the swing of things with us mere mortals. Rough? Oh, here, I brought you some pinwheels. Aw, gee, Danny, thanks. Gee, Danny, when you blow on them, don't they make a ring around the rosie of pretty colors? They're for the Tataglia children. Tataglia, huh? Of course they're for the Tartaglia children. Whose else? Children? For a minute you had me. Well, Chateaglia, leave us lay aside our childish pleasures and get down to the affairs. At the moment, huh, Danny? If you insist, I. Yeah. This matter of bringing in this messenger, Ed Rascoe, it has not been accomplished. Why? For the simple reason that this aforesaid Ed Drasco has taken unto himself a powder. He is not in his rooming house nor in his appointed haunts, nor is. Send out an all points bulletin on him. I want Ed Drasko. Well, naturally. Number one suspect, huh, Nanny. Such an open and shock. Anything else to Taglio case? No, nothing to bother our pretty little brains about this Frank Curcio, owner and ticket taker of the roller coaster on which was found the body of the deceased. What about Curcio? Oh, airtight alibi. When he was not taking tickets, he was in a rendezvous with a dancing girl whose blue jay corn plasters had come awry. All checked. Airtight for a mere mortal. Tartaglia. You excuse me, Tataglia, Naturally. Thank you, Danny. Clover speaking. You and me, Clover, we got a date. Victor Amalfi and you. Oh, have we? Victor, you'll wear a fresh towel. I like that. Yeah, you and me. And Ed Drasko. He wants we should come to his dance. Ed Drasco? Yeah. He wants to make a deal about the jewels. He said I should come alone, but being law abiding, like where? Where's the dance, Victor? Hall of mirrors, back entrance, 12:30 tonight. I can count on you then, Detective Cl. Hello, Detective. Victor. Drasco made contact with you yet? He said he'd be here. I haven't seen him. I've been waiting here, but I haven't seen him. Tell it to me again. Why should Drasco contact you? So simple. A guy steals $100,000 worth of jewels, double crosses his employer, kills his buddy. The jewels are hot, he can't get rid of them, so he makes a deal with the madam and me. 25 grand. Why did you call me? Well, like I try to impress you on the phone. I'm honest. I'm double crossing a killer. I called in the cops. You'd like it some other way. Yeah. I thought this hall of mirrors was closed. There's someone in there. Maybe Drasco. Come on. You first, Victor. Yeah, yeah. I know where the lights are. You better follow me, Detective. A guy can get lost in here. Is that you, Victor? Or a mirror? Now there's six of you. I'm the third one from the left. Come on, Victor. I'm right beside you. Drasco must have brought a gun. We're standing here like ducks with an advantage. How does he know which of us is real and which one? A reflection. What are you waiting for, Detective? He's shooting. When are you gonna pull your gun? Yeah, I'll do that. But Turpit, what'll I shoot at? That way. That way. The shot came from right there. Shoot. Shoot. Hey, hey. You're good, Detective. I think you got it. Wait a minute. Okay, let's go. Over there. That broken mirror. Someone lying on the floor. Yeah. 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. Drasco. Yeah, that's Drasco, all right. How do you know? I saw him at the jewelry store. Hey, you're really good, Detective. One shot and you kill a man. The case is over, huh? Wait a minute. I'll see. What's to see? Oh, oh. Looking for the jewels. They on them. They're. They're on them, huh? It's. It's all over, huh? For Drasco. But he lied to you, Victor. No jewels, huh? No jewels. How do you figure it, Victor? A man dies for a lot of jewelry he didn't have. There's this about Broadway. It measures emotion, computes sensation in terms of neon and Mazda. On Broadway, all that glitters is gold. When light screams, it goes well on Broadway. When darkness flares, not so good. But the death of Ed Rasco in a hall of mirrors, that was something else. That measured up almost as good as the violent death of Tommy Stafford on a roller coaster in Coney Island. And the gleam of $100,000 worth of missing jewels that was dazzling. Worth at least a sack of confetti. Carnival time. That's what it was. Carnival time. Or as Sergeant Gino Tartaglia put it, Danny, you add this all together and it comes out a three ring circus with three rings. Yeah. Meet the clown Tartaglia. What are you talking, Danny? You're a hero. You kill a thief or murderer, thereby solving the previous murder. In the book, that makes you a hero. Clown is for laughing. At whom? Maybe Drasco didn't mean to be killed. What are you talking? You find him with his gun in his hand. Previous to that, bullets were flying amongst the mirrors in your general direction. At a time like that, you're going to stop to ask yourself, should I or shouldn't I? I was eager to, Taglia. If I hadn't been so eager, a man would still be alive. A man we could talk to so we could be sure. Danny, before you go any further with this selfish torture, explain to me this business of iga. If I played it smart, if I'd shown myself, maybe Drasco wouldn't have been so quick with his gun. I could have waited to take him. By the way, where is his gun? In technical for a routine check. Registry, fingerprints and all the so forth and so forth. The technical does with a gun. Yeah, the list and the missing jewels is enough. It is out, Danny. Which brings me to the tidbit of the day. A tidbit which will bring a smile to your gloom, a ray of sunshine to your. Just the tidbit. Today, of course. We are just in receipt of information, Danny, that a tall Otis is honoring the tank in the Coney island precinct with his presence. I can't tell you how happy that makes me. Wait. Let me finish, Danny, before you make another bitter remark. It seems that on a routine perusal of the belongings of Said Paul Otis was found on him a diamond brooch which answers to the description of a diamond brooch on the list of the missing jewels. See, Danny? See how wrong you are to doubt me when I am just what the doctor ordered? Stop banging the cell door. The hangover hurts, huh, Paul? You gotta give me time to get used to being in jail. You'll close the door gently next time. Yeah, sure, sure. My name's Clover. Danny Clover. Clover? You're telling me that because you're gonna third degree me, huh? So when you rubber hose me, I can yell stop. Danny Clover. Yeah. All we're going to do is chat. Yeah, yeah, I know, chat. You want a cigarette, Paul? Your kind with truth serum in it. Yeah, yeah. You cops. Okay, no cigarette. Where'd you get this diamond brooch? Hey, you hurt my head with questions like that. Where'd you get it, Paul? Nowhere. I'm suspicion of robbery and I'm stuck with it. Murder. Let me out of here. Let me out of here. Paul. Let me out of here. Paul. Let me out of here. I got a crazy man. Listen to me, Paul. Listen to me. Okay, okay, I'll. I'll listen. But did you. Don't. Don't get close to me. Yeah. Don't touch me. Paul, a man was supposed to deliver this brooch and some more jewelry. A man named Tommy Stafford. He never showed up. He was murdered. I'm listening. I'm listening real good. Go ahead, go ahead. Tommy Stafford. You know him? No, no, no. How about a man named Ed Drasco? Ed Rasco. You know, Ed Rascal? Paul. No, I don't know Ed Drasco, but I'm listening. Look, last night you were picked up in Coney, not too far from the scene of Tommy's murder. You had this brooch with you. A brooch that Tommy had a little while before he was killed. What's the story, Paul? After work, I was in a bar with a girl and drinking. And I opened my eyes and I come upon this dream. I'm all of a sudden in the tank with broach without girl. What girl? Who is she? Be Morris. Hula type. The type that Hulu's on the midway show on Coney B. Morris, huh? Okay, Paul. No, no, no. Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're getting too close. Open the door. Let me out of here. I'm crazy, man. Get me out of here. I had to pull him away from the cell door. When he was aware that my hands were on him, he screamed again, ran to a corner and with his finger drew A symbol on the air. I took it as a symbol to keep the evil beasties away. It worked. Someone opened the door and took me away from Paul Otis. In the early afternoon light, the midway at Coney is a tattered circus poster peeling off an alley wall. The color is drained from it and the attractions don't care if you do or don't. Back of the fat man who wanted to guess my weight was another man who wanted me to go back with him into an Arabian night for only two bits, two dimes and a nickel quarter of a dollar. Back of him were six tired harem girls on a platform yawning through recorded type music from a Coney type loudspeaker. For the price of admission. He pointed out B. Morris, the one with the biggest yawn. I found a chair inside the tent and waited for the shill. Tells me you were asking for me. Well, now that you see me up close, you can run along, huh, sport? Here, sit down, Dee. I want to talk to you. It thrills you to talk to an artist. An artist like me, huh, sport? Go on, sniff my birthday. Go on. Just talk. Bee. Let's talk about Paul Otis. Him. What's the matter, sport? You jealous of Paul? Tell Auntie Bea all about it. Go on, just talk. Bea, let's talk about Paul Otis. Him. What's the matter, sport? You jealous of Paul? Tell Auntie B all about it. I'm a policeman. I want you to talk to me about Paul because we're holding him for murder. Murder? Paul? You must be kidding. Paul hasn't got enough protein to raise his voice, let alone murder. Murder? The murder of Tommy Stafford, the messenger boy on the roller coaster. Why would poor little Paul want to kill a poor little messenger boy for a diamond brooch? Maybe to impress you. Maybe those would be good reasons. Except Paul hasn't got it in him to think him up. Maybe you ought to know, Bee. We found the brooch on him along with the bottle tops. In his pocket we found a diamond brooch. You know him so well, Bea. Where would Paul get a thing like that? I'll tell you. I'll tell you for free. Maybe he got it the same place I got these diamond earrings. Look at him. Go ahead, bite him. To him. Go on. Real, genuine, 14 carat diamond. Yeah, they're on the missing list, Bea. The earrings and the brooch missing from two murdered men. Where'd you get them? This'll make you open your mouth real wide. They were left on my dressing table in a dirty little white box. Eerie the Whole thing, ain't it, sport? You didn't wonder where they came from? Who asks where diamonds come from? We do. Bea policemen do that. Let's go where it's cool and quiet and official and talk. Like at headquarters. Danny, huh? Here, Danny, I brought you a nice piece of chicken kachador. I built it from my lunchbox you should gnaw on instead of your fingernails. I'm not gnawing on my fingernails, Daglia. Literally. No, but figuratively. I can see your brain devour them to the hub. Go ahead, take the chicken. You eat it. You. Thanks a lot, Danny. Oh, hey, Danny. Now, what? With chicken on my mind, I forgot to tell you. Forgot to tell me what? To tell you. I got the report back from Technical about the gun. Quick, huh? All right. What does technical have to say? Here. Here, you. You hold the chicken. I'll read it. Okay. To Lieutenant Detective Danny Clover from New York Police Department, Ballistics Division. Subject gun, type of.38 caliber. Police positive registry. None. Fingerprints? None. Signed Marvin McBar. New York Police Department, Ballistics Division. Signed, Marvin McDonald. No, no, no. The part about the prints. Fingerprints, None. Hey, Danny, how could this Drasco have his mitts on the gun, then leave no fingerprints, huh? Danny, you got a good question, Gino? Here, take your chicken back. It was the best question of Tartaglia's brilliant career. How could Drasco have shot at me and left no fingerprints on the gun he held in his bare hand? It was a good question because it could contain within itself a good answer. It could answer why Paul Otis and V. Morris had stolen jewels on them. It could answer the murder of Tommy Stafford and maybe even the death of Ed Drasko. And for the answer to a question that already has an answer, you go to a clairvoyant, to someone who reads head bumps like Madam Sibyls in Coney Islands, to her prop boy, Victor Amalfi. Madame Sybil offers herself to meditation. However, she will be with you within this moment. It's a detective. Salaam, Detective. Same to you, Victor. Where's Madame Sybil? Like I told you, in the back room, meditating. If you're here as a client, you'll have to wait for the madam. If you're here to pass the time of day likewise, you're two times wrong, Victor. I want you and Sybil for murder. You make a hobby of this. You point a finger, say you're a murderer. And this makes a murderer, huh? You got one yesterday, Clover. How many you need to make you happy? You and Sybil. All right, I'll humor you. Whom is whom we have murdered? Tommy Stafford. Maybe Ed Drasko. Maybe Drasko. You need an aspirin, kid. $100,000 worth of jewels for a measly down payment of 10 grand. Good profit. $90,000. And all it cost was the murder of two messenger boys. I could get you bicarbonate. Cheap at the price, huh, Victor? So easy. You take Stafford on the roller coaster, stick a knife in his back. Sybil takes Drasko somewhere else, puts a bullet in him. What'd you do with the jewels? Put him in the safe after I left. Let's take a look at the safe, huh, Victor? A little thing. One little thing. I read in the papers you got two birds with stolen diamonds in their mouths. Diamonds the madam bought, never got. You must know about that, Victor. You planted them. You planted them on Paul, Otis and Bee. Two people whose business it was to be near the scene of the crime. It almost worked. Now let's look at the safe, huh? First you have to get by, Victor. Detective, that ain't going to be easy. Let's try, shall we, Victor? Are you all right, Mr. Clover? Yeah, real fine. Welcome from the beyond Civil tonight. The Zodiac said kill Victor. I'm glad it was Victor. I'm glad it wasn't you, Mr. Clover. When I pointed the gun. I never pointed a gun before, Lucky. Yeah. Okay, Sybil, give me the gun. What for? Ballistics will want to match it against the slugs in the body. But you saw me shoot Victor. The gun. All right, all right. Here. But you saw me. I killed him. What do you need the gun for? Ed Drasko. I'm not real sure. Understand, Sybil, but I'm waving a finger at you. This is the gun that killed Ed Drasko. Are you talking about you killed Drasco? The paper said you killed Ed Drasko. You did, Sybil. It figures that way. Drasko was dead even before I walked into the hall of mirrors. Because his fingerprints weren't on his gun. You can't make fingerprints by resting a gun in the open hand of a dead man. Not trying to trick me. So it figures, Sybil. Like I said it did. It was you shooting up the hall of mirrors. Not trying to hit anyone. Just shooting it up so I'd take a shot in the dark and just happen to kill Ed Drasko. Mr. Clover. Where? The jewel, Sybil? In the safe. They weren't in there the last time we opened it. Let's see now. Open the safe. Go ahead, open it. No, no. You can't have them. Take it easy. No, they're mine. I kill for them. They're mine. Stop fighting. It's no use. Mine. Mine. Come on. They're not mine, are they? Let's go civil. Daytime never lingers on. They shut it off by lighting the spectaculars. Then Broadway's happy. It leans into the night and screams. You turn a corner and run toward it. It's right there waiting for you. Start screaming too, kid, because it'll explode right in your face. It's Broadway. The gaudiest, the most violent. The lonesomest mile 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. Included in the cast tonight were Byron Kane, Betty Lou Gerson, Sylvia Sims, Jerry Hausner, Jack Crucian and Peter Lee.