← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
BONUS - Dollar Days: The Valentine Matter
01:14:50
Our run through the serialized adventures of Johnny Dollar brings us to the Big Easy! In “The Valentine Matter” (originally aired on CBS between October 31 and November 4, 1955), Johnny’s on a case in New Orleans when he runs across one of...
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Johnny Dollar
Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it wind up in the gut of the prison of the grave. The story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The Adventures of Sam Spade Detective the Adventures of the Saint. Starring Vincent Price. Bob Bailey in the exciting adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Doll. Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets. We're back today with another bonus installment in our spotlight on the serialized adventures of Johnny Dollar. Last time we traveled south of the border, but this week we're back in the States, in New Orleans, to be precise, for the Valentine matter. This one originally aired on CBS between October 31 and November 4, 1955. It's a unique storyline for a few reasons. It marks the first instance where Johnny stumbles into his adventure. He begins episode one, dispatched to the Big Easy to investigate a burglary, only to discover that the crime was solved while he was in transit. And as he explores the city, he happens upon Dan Valentine, one of Prohibition's most notorious bootleggers. Now an old man who's tried to leave his criminal life behind him. Johnny's charmed by Valentine and an unlikely friendship is about to begin when someone tries to kill Valentine. It seems an old vendetta has resurfaced and Johnny investigates to try and find out who's trying to kill the old gangster, all while getting close to Valentine's daughter. That's the second piece that makes this story stand out. It marks the first instance of a real romance for Johnny in one of these five part storylines. And that element lets Bob Bailey play up a softer side of the character. Like the Chesapeake fraud matter, this five part story was a reworked and expanded version of an earlier half hour Johnny Dollar radio script. The San Antonio Matter, Originally aired on April 28, 1953, starred John Lund as Johnny. But with more than twice the runtime, the Valentine matter is really able to fly. Flesh out the story, particularly the budding romance. The cast includes Marvin Miller, Jack Moyles, Lillian Byeff, Betty Lou Gerson, Barney Phillips, Will Wright, Forrest Lewis and Jane Ovello. Bob Bailey, of course, is America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Now let's head back to early November 1955 and the Valentine matter From Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. Roy Vickers, New Britain Mutual. Johnny. Hi, Roy. How'd you like to try some Creole cooking? Okay. What's up? One of the bell hops at the St. Agnes Hotel in New Orleans had quite a time last night. He opened the safe and walked out with $7,500 in cash and a diamond necklace worth a cool 25,000. So help me, Roy, I didn't know bellhops had so much fun. That isn't all. He also stole a station wagon belonging to the hotel manager, not to mention the manager's wife. What do you want back? Mainly that necklace. It's the property of one of our clients. She was stopping at the St Agnes and had it stowed in the hotel safe. Any line on the bellhop? Not a trade so far. The wife? Don't be funny. Can you hop a plane down there and see what's happened for us? Sure, Roy. Tonight and every weekday night, Bob Bailey and the transcribed adventures of the man with the action packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to the New Britain Mutual Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Valentine matter. Expense account item 1, $175.00 no cents airfare and the incidental costs it takes to get from Hartford to New Orleans. Once there, I was more than surprised to discover the police had wound up the whole case. The prodigal bellhop, along with the $7,500 in cash, the diamond necklace, the station wagon, even the manager's wife had all been recovered. Everything and everyone, tearful but intact. I reported this development to all parties concerned, phoned the airport for a reservation back to Hartford, which they said would be the following afternoon, and then looked around for something to do. I found a spot on Burgundy street that seemed to be less crowded than the others and settled down for the evening. That's where it happened. He was sitting alone. Tall, gray haired, rugged. A face full of some 50 odd years, I guessed. And full of some other things no one could guess. It was three drinks at the bar before I made out who he was, who he had been. A man who was once big in a way that only Prohibition made them big. This seat taken? No. Mind if I Sit down, Mr. Valentine? Well, you can't be that old. How old? Old enough to recognize me. Recognize you? From your picture. Long time ago time. Hmm. I guess I could tell you more about that than anybody. You a cop? No, I'm an insurance investigator. You were a cop once? Once. Can I buy you a drink, Mr. Valentine? Damn's enough. Sure you're doing better than the boys in the florist. I've been living in New Orleans for three months now. Nobody's calling me. Any reason why they should? No. No, there isn't. But then, no one's ever figured out a way to stop a policeman from making a visit when he wants to. That's true. The funny thing, there's a lot of policemen I've liked in my day. Visiting policemen, that is. On certain days. You're too young to remember much about it. $But a long time ago, a bunch of old women made a law called the Balstead Act. Sure, Prohibition. Everybody heard about it, including the old women who passed the law. You see, this law was supposed to be for the other guy, not for them. Anyhow, a lot of people started bottling up violations of this Volstead Act. Retired? No, not a bit, Dan. Well, it got me a lot of money and a lot of trouble. 13 years for income tax evasion. Finally ended just three months ago, and I came here to live happily ever after. Funny. No, New Orleans is a nice, quiet place to live. Better still, no one's bothering you. That's the way I want to keep it. And they can pass a thousand stupid laws, and I'm not gonna fall for any of them. Everything the book says, everything in order. How's that sound? Pretty good. Do you believe it? Yes, I do. Then I've got my point over. I'm flattered that you recognize me. $. I paid back 10 days for every one I took. All I ask is that you don't ask the police to bother me. Okay? As far as I'm concerned, Dan, you didn't even have the dinner I'm about to buy for you. $. It's nice to come out of prison and be recognized by a nice guy. Where we go? Jimmy Moranz. That's where we went. And it was a swell dinner, only Dan Valentine didn't eat much of it. He tried to smile and crack wise, but there was a sadness about him that stood in the way. I wanted to ask him more questions about those days back when. But I didn't. We dropped into a couple of other places. The absinthe house, Joe Gloriosos. We listened to some jazz and drank Sazeracs and walked along Canal Street. Finally, we shook hands and said good night. Expense account, item two, $26.26, hotel board and miscellaneous. The next morning, I packed my bags, checked out of my hotel and was about to take a limousine out to Mobilon Airport. Oh, Mr. Donner? Yeah? A message for you. Oh, thanks. It was from a police officer on the New Orleans force. An inspector Debaca. Could I drop by before I left town? I went right over and met debaca, a tall, lean, gray haired man with 30 years service who kind of puzzled me at first. Thanks for coming by, Donna. Sure. Sit down. What's up? The bellhop take back his confession on that necklace theft? No, no, this is something else, Donna. Dan Valentine. Oh, you met him about 6:30 last night. You had two drinks with him and you went over to Moran's and had dinner. He went to two other places. You left him at 11:30. Yeah, I also brushed my teeth when I got back to the hotel. But I bet you can't tell me what color my pajamas are. Now, take it easy. Just take it easy. Maybe I'm saying this bad he doesn't know it, but we've been keeping an eye on Danny ever since he showed up New Orleans. Just so happened you were with him last night and you did business with us here yesterday afternoon. So we want to know if you had any business with Dan Valentine. Don't be funny, inspector. Okay, okay. Now don't get huffy. Let me put it this way. Dan came to New Orleans three months ago, bought a house out in Jefferson Parish. He hired a housekeeper, bought himself a little car, took up fishing every afternoon or just walking. Nothing wrong with that. No, of course there isn't. We liked it fine. The boys in the car drive by now and then look at him. Just look. No questions, no knocking on the door. When we see Danny in town, we turn the other way. Just look. You see? Sure. Now, he doesn't have any visitors. No old pals from Chicago or New York or Detroit come to see him. He lives alone and he likes it. That's what he told me. You're his first visitor now. I just wondered. You wondered wrong, Debaca. Okay, okay. I had to ask about it. You know how it is. Yeah. Excuse me. Yeah? Yeah. Okay. Right on cue. Your pal just stopped a couple of bullets, huh? Danny Valentine. Come on. According to the uniformed officer who had put in the call, a newspaper boy had found Valentine lying on the sidewalk and around the neighborhood one of the residents had carried him inside. The ambulance crew stood by the bed as we came in. Valentine was lying on his back, the white chenille spread under him changing to a deep red. Two bullets had ripped ragged holes in one shoulder through flesh and bone, but he was just as self contained as ever. I got the idea you were gonna stay out of trouble, Dan. I didn't know I was in any trouble. Are you dollar okay. You went to the police, after all. No, the inspector called me in about you, Dan. But let's forget that for now. How'd this happen? This cleaning my gun? You're a loser, Dan. You're not supposed to have a gun. Oh, you know me and the law, we sometimes didn't hit it off. But where is the gun? What gun? The gun you were cleaning when you were walking down the street and shot yourself. I swallowed it. Now, look, somebody's taking a couple of shots at you, Dan. Nobody can tell us anything about it but you so far, we don't want you murdered. Well, okay, boys, get the ambulance back. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You're hurt. You're going to the police hospital. No, no, I've served my time and I'm clean. Being shot at, even in this state, doesn't make you a criminal. Dollar? Yeah. Dan, do me a favor, Would you phone a private hospital and have me taken there? Go ahead, Johnny. Take it easy, Dan. I did as he asked. A crew from one of the large private hospitals was out there in a matter of minutes. And an hour and a half later, Dan Valentine was operated on and the bullet successfully removed from his shoulder. I waited around until he was taken to a private room and Inspector debaca waited with me. Donna. Yeah? Why don't you go back to Hartford? This isn't any of your business. I know. My plane takes off at 4. I'll be on it. Why are you waiting around here? Oh, to see how he is, I guess. Your pal of yours. I just met him last night. You know that. But you're waiting around. Yeah. You want me to tell you why you're waiting around? You want to make sure he's okay. You met him last night. And outside of what you ever read or heard about him, you don't know him from a load of coal. But you want to make sure he's going to be all right. Well, so do I. Because in that room and on that bed lies quite a man. That about summed it up. No matter what he had been or what he had done, Dan Valentine was quite a man. It was the same thing that had caused me to go over to him the night before and start a conversation. The same thing that caused me to believe his plans for living a quiet life in New Orleans. He came out of the anesthetic a half hour later and he sent for me. Hi. Hi. They say it's gonna be okay. Oh, sure, sure. This is nothing. I just wanted to thank you for giving me a hand. Debaca could probably Help you more. All you have to do is tell him who shot you and why I shot myself. And just for something to do. Look, Dan, I have a fair idea of how tough things were for you and how tough they can be now. But Inspector Debaca understands it too. He'll do everything he can to help you, but you have to help him. Dan de Baca's a good boy. You're right. You'll tell him who shot you. If there was any way he could help me, I'd let him know first. I'll handle this myself. Guess you'll want to be getting your airplane. Yeah. Good luck, kiddo. Same to you. I went back to my hotel, picked up my bags and took a cab to Mobilin Airport. My plane had developed engine trouble and there was gonna be a five hour delay. I killed time at the bar and in the restaurant and just standing around looking at the field at night. By that time, the newspapers carried the story of the attempt on Dan Valentine's life. It was as skimpy as the story Dan had told himself, and it troubled me. Mr. Dollar? Yeah? Long distance call for you from Hartford. You can take it right in there. Oh, thanks. Johnny Dollar. Roy Vickers, Johnny, at New Britain Mutual. Glad I caught you. Just waiting for my plane back to Hartford. Now, this story about Dan Valentine's and all the papers up here. Have you read it? Yeah, I was in on it in a way. Somebody shot at him today. He won't tell who. Says he'll handle it himself. Can you find out, Johnny? I don't know why we carry a $50,000 policy on him. Somebody's trying to kill him. We'd like to know all about it. You mean I can stay here and work on this? Yes. Okay, Roy. There'll be another intriguing episode in our story of the Valentine matter tomorrow. Tomorrow. All the king's men that could be the New Orleans police force try to keep one man alive and they almost do it. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollars. Transcribed in Hollywood Written by John Dawson. It is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station, for another exciting episode of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. This is Charlie Debaca down at headquarters. You left a call for me? That's right, Inspector. Thought you went back to Hartford. What now? The company I represent happens to hold an insurance policy on Dan Valentine. They asked me to stay here in New Orleans and look into this Attempt on his life. How'd they hear about it so fast? Well, it was in all the papers and on the wire services. Valentine's always been news, ever since Prohibition. Yeah, a guy like him would be. Well, you know as much as I do, darling. No leads yet. He's still quiet about the whole thing. Just like a mouse who won't open up except to say he'll take care of it himself. Maybe it'll help matters when he finds out the insurance company's interested. You know something? What? I don't think me, you, the whole force, the insurance company or anybody else can keep that bird alive unless he helps us tonight and every weekday night. Bob Bailey in the transcribed adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special investigator Johnny Dollar to the New Britain Mutual Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Valentine matter. Expense account continued, item three. Three bucks. One telegram to Roy Vickers in Hartford requesting a copy of the policy contracts between New Britain Mutual and Dan Valentine, plus the name and location of the beneficiary and any other debt on the case. After that, I walked over to the police station and looked up Inspector debaca. Sit down. Thanks. I don't quite get this, Dollar. What's your part? Well, the insurance company would like a full report on everything that's happened, that's all. You could give them that on the back of your thumbnail, couldn't you? Not quite, Inspector. Oh, you mean a separate report from what we have? Something like that, yes. It's their dough. They can spend it any way they want to. I guess if there's any reason for them canceling the policy on Valentine, they'll do it. The fact that somebody shot at him a couple of times and came near killing him is one thing. The fact that he won't open his mouth about it is another. They looking for a way out? I didn't say that. They just want to make sure about everything, that's all. An insurance policy is a contract mutually beneficial to both parties. Both parties have to keep the line of that contract. They don't figure Danny Valentine's running around shooting himself. Insurance money, Inspector. They don't figure anything. Well, now that you've been official, be unofficial. What's your idea? Well, Valentine's got a legitimate policy with the company. They don't want to see him kill. They tell me to investigate the shooting. Actually, they're telling me to see to it that he stays Alive and well. That makes sense. Good luck. If you'll sort of let me tag along on the case, I'd appreciate it. Well, we'll see. What's the matter now? It just occurred to me. Valentine bought a house out in Jefferson Parish three months ago. A couple of days after he was released from Federal Pennsylvania. He's lived there quiet, minding his own business, keeping his nose out of trouble. Yeah, well, as long as a man does that, even a man with a background like Valentine's. As long as a man does that, we don't bother him and he doesn't bother us. Well, so. So what happens? Yesterday you meet him and have a couple of drinks with him. Hello and goodbye. Boom boom. He gets shot twice by somebody somewhere. You were bad news, boy. Now, that's as wild as you can get. We had nothing together except the drinks. You sure? I'm sure, but I'm thinking about it just the same. Here. Be back in a minute. The bulky, thick folder Inspector debaca shoved across the desk at me was marked Valentine, Daniel. It started in 1915 and was fat with yellowed clippings all the way through 1942. There was a pretty good history of Dan Valentine and the age he lived in. He was born in Ireland and had fought in the Irish Rebellion. He was regarded as both hero and scoundrel. For his own good, he came to America somehow. He started out on the wholesale drug business and understandably, it was an easy step to making Prohibition alcohol and an even easier step to make prison on an income tax evasion charge. The folder mentioned a wife and a daughter who seemed to have successfully avoided most of the newspaper headlines that had involved Dan Valentine. There was One picture of Mrs. Valentine taken in 1928. That's about as far as I got when de Baca came back into the room. Not alone. Interesting stuff. Very, Inspector. Very. Well, here's something more interesting. My men have been covering the neighborhood where the shooting happened yesterday afternoon. This man's a witness. This is Mr. Dollar. This is an insurance investigator. It's Willie Blakely. Oh, hi. How do you do, sir? Hope you can help us, Willie. Well, I can try. I really didn't see too much. You see, I was on my milk truck and I saw this fellow, this big fellow walking down the street. What's his name? Dan Valentine? Yes, sir. Well, he was just walking, like for an early morning walk. And then I saw this car come around the corner and there were a couple of men in it. What kind of car? I think it was a Buick sedan. I'm not sure it was a black car. You happened to get the license number? No. All right, go on. Well, sir, this Mr. Valentine, he looked up when he saw it coming and he stopped, you know, kind of funny. No, I don't know. Tell me. You know, like he was surprised. Do you think he was surprised at who was in the car? Yes, sir, that's it. He sort of smiled. Not a hello kind of a smile, sort of a sad smile. Didn't wave. Just stood there. I couldn't see the men in the car by then, so I don't know how they were looking at him. Did you see them as they rounded the corner? Yeah, just a couple of fellas, dark coats and hats. Would you know them if you saw them again? I don't think so, captain. Okay. Two men? Yes, sir. So this is Mr. Valentine. Stopped and looked at him and given this kind of smile, he recognized him. You think? Oh, yeah. And then I heard a noise, you know, something like, whack, whack. And Mr. Valentine fell down and a car drove off. Did Valentine go for a gun? No, sir. What did you do then? Well, I got out of there. Why? I didn't know what was happening. I didn't want to get hurt. You didn't even try to help him? No, sir. I was scared. I didn't know what that whack whack was, sir. And it took you all this time to tell us about it? Sorry, Captain Darling. Yeah, you got something to worry about. That noise he was talking about didn't sound like regular gunshots or he would have said so. Silencer. What else? Inspector debaca continued to question the witness, trying to ascertain more details about the shooting, the car and the men inside the car. Four hours later, when I left, he was still at it. Some more expenses. Item 4. $2 a half cab fare from police station to hospital. I thought I'd drop in and take a chance on Dan Valentine coming across with some information. Sorry, no visitors. It's pretty important. I'm a friend of his. I'm sorry. When can I see him? It's hard to say. Mr. Valentine's condition is not too good. What? Well, nothing to be alarmed about. He lost so much blood that he's in a weakened condition. The doctor's ordered a transfusion. You can phone in later if you like. Excuse me. Yes, ma' am. I should like to see Mr. Valentine, please. I'm sorry. I was just telling this gentleman that's impossible. How is he? He needs rest. The doctor feels he'd be better off without visitors at the moment. Thank you. I had a feeling about the gray haired, well dressed woman and I hurried after her down the long car. Outside the hospital, I was just in time to see her take a cab that had been waiting at the curb. I managed to hail one myself and we tagged along Canal street behind her until she paid off the driver in front of the Roosevelt Hotel. I was right behind her when she stopped in the lobby and got a key to room 1016. I gave her five minutes, then I knocked on her door. Yes? Hello, Mrs. Valentine. My name's Johnny Dollar. Anne Valentine looked at me for a long time. I had to hand it to her. There were no tears, no frowns or screams. Just a wide, frank look from a woman who by any man's standards had once been beautiful. I haven't been called by that name for many years. You're a reporter, of course. No, I'm not. I'm an insurance investigator in a policeman's office. Today I saw one of the few pictures ever taken of you at this hotel. I'm registered under the name of Ann Ward. Ward is good enough for me. Mrs. Valentine, may I come in? Yes. Now, what is it you want, Mr. Dollar? Possibly the same thing you want to keep your husband alive. I believe that's up to the doctors, isn't it? Not quite. If he was shot at once and he won't help the police find out who did it, there's a reasonable chance he'll be shot at again. Do you know who did it? Well, who it might be? Look, the police have found a witness who describes two men as having done the shooting. Can you add anything to that, Mr. Dollar? I haven't seen Dan in over 13 years. I haven't written to him, talked to him or contacted him in any way either while he was in prison or these last few months he's been out. I see. It was his idea. But he must have had a reason. He did. Our daughter. Oh, she believes that Ward was her dead father's name. Do I make myself clear? Yeah. I read about the shooting. I caught the first plane here because I thought I might help Dan. My daughter thinks I'm on a little vacation by myself. You don't believe me, do you? Well, in view of what you've just said about not having written to him for 13 years, that was the way he wanted it. I was never ashamed of Dan. Never. He was ashamed of himself and how his activities might affect us. He gave me everything I ever had out of life in New Salem. That's where we live and live very well because Dan saw to that part of it before he went to prison. We are considered very proper people, Teresa and myself. Dan sacrificed a great deal for that consideration. I think that you've sacrificed a great deal yourself, Mrs. Valentine. When I go back to the hospital to see him tonight, he'll probably tell me to pack my bag and go home. That there's nothing to worry about. But there is something to worry about, isn't there, Mrs. Valentine? He won't talk about it and you won't talk about it. And both of you know all about it. Oh, Mr. Dollar, you're a very young man. I'm sorry if I sound like I could help you. I can't. Please go. I went back to my hotel and had some dinner. Then after a while I put in a phone call to the hospital and found out I could talk to Dan Valentine. Between 7:30 and 9. About then a special delivery came for me. It contained the information I wanted regarding the policy on Dan Valentine. I noticed that the beneficiary was a dual affair. Wife and daughter, Anne and Theresa Ward. I had to check with Inspector de Baca just once more. No luck. He had been unable to identify or locate the two killers described by the witness. He was trying to trace the car. 7:30 on the dot. I was at the hospital. The reception desk seemed reluctant to talk and referred me to the head nurse who happened to be out to dinner, who referred me to the surgical nurse who took me aside and told me to find a crystal ball. Mr. Valentine's gone. We have no idea where. How could he be gone? We started to give him a transfusion. He jumped up suddenly, knocked down one of the male nurses, grabbed his clothes and ran out of the hospital. Just as simple as that. I thought he was in a serious condition. Keep your voice down. He was in a serious condition and it's going to be critical pretty soon. Running around town, bleeding from two bullet wounds. If you want to keep him alive, Mr. Dollar, you better find him and find him fast. I thought over what Dan Valentine had told me in the hospital earlier about taking care of the matter himself. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was going to do just that. Even if it killed. There'll be another intriguing episode in our story of the Valentine matter tomorrow. Tomorrow. What happens to a 30 year old grudge when somebody explains it with bullets? Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by John Dawson it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time in station for another exciting episode of Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. This is Anne Ward. Mrs. Valentine, have you heard anything about Dan? Nothing, Mrs. Valentine. The police are looking everywhere for him. I went to the hospital tonight and they told me he walked out. He might die, Mr. Dollar. I know. Mrs. Valentine, did you tell anyone I was here in New Orleans? If you mean did I mention it to the police, no. Thank you, Mr. Donner. That was very kind of you, but it makes me mad that I didn't. Mrs. Valentine, I know you don't want anybody to find you're related to him because of your daughter. But I also think you could help the police in this situation. You could help them find Dan and put him back in the hospital. Mr. Donner, would you come over and talk to me, please? Please? Tonight and every weekday night, Bob Bailey and the transcribed adventures of the man with the action packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigators. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense accounts submitted by special investigator Johnny Dollar to the New Britain Mutual Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Valentine matter. Some more expense. I believe this is item five. Yeah. Four bucks. Four drinks for myself. When the next big shot of the roaring twenties like Dan Valentine carries a $50,000 life insurance policy and walks down the street one day and gets himself shot and refuses to disclose who fired the bullets, I have to do the worrying for the insurance company. When he decides to leave a hospital bed minus a pint or two of blood, I have to worry some more. I needed those drinks. You can just say I liked what I'd seen of the guy. And I didn't want him to walk around New Orleans bleeding to death. In here. Please, Mr. Dollar. The wife who hadn't seen or heard from him for 13 years looked pale and wan. It was obvious that the was beginning to tell on her, although she tried hard not to show it. Doesn't it ever cool off in New Orleans? Sometimes. But I'm not here to talk about the weather, Mrs. Valentine. You know that. Yes, I know. Well, don't just stand there and give me the tears, then. If you've got anything to say, say it. If you know anything that'll help, let me know about it. You're perfectly right in being angry with me, Mr. Dollar. I honestly don't know where Dan is. Well, do you know why he'd get up out of a Hospital bed and endanger his life. I have an idea he might have wanted to see somebody. Who? I don't know. The two men who shot at him, perhaps. I just don't know. We aren't getting anywhere, Mrs. Valentine. Look, I'm gonna talk to you frankly. Why did he come here to live in New Orleans? Well, you live in New England with your daughter, Teresa, obviously. Dan thinks a great deal of you and her. He's given you everything. Provided for you with all of his troubles. Spent 13 years in prison. I can imagine his thoughts about you and her while he was in there. And yet he comes out and lives 2,000 miles away from you. He didn't want to interfere with Teresa in any way, sure. But it seems to me he'd want to look at you, at her, certainly. Even if it was a matter of living in Boston and taking a bus to New Salem and standing on a street corner one day to watch the two of you cross the street? That sound reasonable to you? If you put it that way. Look, there's some reason he picked New Orleans. Some reason he didn't give himself the little gratification of just looking at you and Teresa. Why? Why here? I'm sure I don't know. And why is he running around now? I can't answer that either. But it must have something to do with you and your daughter. Obviously, you're the only ones he ever cared about. Well, I honestly don't know. Well, and I. I can't help you. And I can't help myself. Or him. You mentioned his having a reason to be in New Orleans. Maybe. What? There was a man named Webster. Conrad Webster. He was a member of the Illinois Bar once in those days. Did a great deal of work for Dan and friends of Dan. I think he lived here. Wait a minute. I've seen that name. Yeah, on copies of the insurance policy. A man named Webster had the power of attorney. He bought the insurance. There's a trust in there for your daughter. Yes. Conrad Webster was an old friend of Dan's. I don't even know whether he's alive now or not. Drank a great deal later on. I think he lived here. Was he the kind of friend Dan would go to if he needed help? Yes, I think so. All right. What are you going to do? It's just something to look into. I'll try and find Webster, and maybe I can find your husband. Thank you for coming by. I needed somebody to talk to. What? I hope he stays alive, Mrs. Valentine. Item seven. Sixteen dollars. The money it cost me to find out the location of Conrad Webster. I started at his last known address, followed a series of bars and finally got information from a bartender that led me to the crummier half of a decaying duplex on Gentilly Street. Everything was quiet for Gentilly street, huh? Young man, the drugstore delivers what I need most. The telegraph office what I dread most. Obviously, you represent neither, and therefore you are no concern of mine. Wait a minute. Are you Mr. Webster? Conrad Webster? I am he. And I am drunk and disheveled and it is 3 o' clock in the morning. I'd like to talk with you. May I come in? You may not. This isn't exactly the hour for making calls, but I did stop by and pick up something to take. Take the edge off, huh? It's bonded. Oh. Inside. Inside. Now then, you were going to apologize. Here you are, Mr. Webster. Well, now then. As long as this lasts, you will last. All right. I'm looking for a man. The entire world is looking for a man. Just one man. A man they blindly presume will break off these shackles that bind us and lead us forth into eternal justice. Yeah, yeah, sure. But that's not an ironic anticipation. I'm talking about Dan Valentine. You are? Yes. I'm a friend of his. No, no. You don't come from that place. The pallor is not with you. You lie. I didn't say I was in jail with him. And where else would he have made friends these long years? He's out of prison now. He's been out for three months. And I'm aware of that. Did you know he was shot at yesterday? Three hours ago, he left his hospital bed. I thought he might have come to you. Is he here? He is not. Do you know where he is? I do not. Mr. Webster, if Valentine isn't back in the hospital pretty soon, he'll. Why is the phenomenon of death so persistently alarming? So he will die. They all die. Usually from a bullet. And that's what's going to happen to him. Two bullets he stopped yesterday. Do you understand me? Acutely. Acutely. You've impressed me with the urgency of his situation. But Dan Valentine is not here, nor has he been here, nor has he contacted me, nor do I know where to contact him. All right, Mr. Webster. All right. I guess I believe you. Your concern for him is a distressing irritation. What is the reason for it? I'm an insurance investigator and it's my job to keep him alive. More than that, I like him. I told you I was his friend. I think he deserves to live. You, his friends, know you are too young to be his friends. His friends, for the most part, are gone. Like the long years. Like homburg hats and the Charleston and Lyme Rickey. The ones who are left are broken and tired and faded with old faces. Faces like mine, like his. And we should be gone too. Another age is here. This is my sadness. As for yours, Dan Valentine should never have lived in that age or this age. He was meant to be an explorer, a pioneer who conquered a wilderness, not a racketeer who conquered a West side. Are you sure you're his friend, Mr. Webster? I once thought so. He once thought so. Now I haven't strength enough to be anyone's friend. What's your name? Johnny dollar. Good night, Mr. Doll. The look in Conrad Webster's eyes held the same sort of sadness I had seen in Valentine's eyes. But they were different too. They held a weakness. The strong, sad eyes were somewhere else in the city, walking alone, probably looking for two gunmen. And the lifeblood was slowly draining from the body that sparked them. I went back to my hotel and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. I was still rolling and tossing at 7:30 the next morning when orange juice coffee in the morning paper came up. A nationwide syndicate had picked up the new development in the Valentine shooting and gone to work on it. Among other names they mentioned in giving a resume of Valentine's career were his wife and daughter living in New Salem under the name of Ward. Hello, this is Johnny Dollar. I just read the morning paper. Mrs. Valentine. Oh, yes. I'm sorry it broke for you this way. That's very kind of you to say so. Maybe it's for the better. Anyhow, for years I've been wanting to tell Teresa who her father is, what he's like. I'm going to call her later today, tell her where I am, explain why I'm here. I think she can take it. You're doing pretty well yourself. Thanks again. Any word yet? No. No, we still can't find him. Mr. Webster. Did you find him? Yes. He wasn't much help. The New England paper said that Mrs. Ward was out of town. Sooner or later they'll find out what town Mrs. Ward is in, I'm afraid. Well, maybe you'd better get another hotel. Use another name. Yes, all right. I'll wait to hear from you, Mr. Dollar. Yes, thank you. I put in another call to Inspector Debaca and asked him about developments. Valentine was still unlocated. They were covering drugstores and doctor's offices where he might seek assistance. The two unidentified men who had shot him were still unidentified. The police weren't able to dig up any more witnesses against any line on the car. By four in the afternoon, Mrs. Valentine had still not called me to report a new address. I got worried and went over to the Roosevelt to see what was what. I was surprised to see Inspector debaca in the lobby talking to the bell captain. All right, son. If you remember anything else, call me here. Yes, sir, I sure will. Hi. Hi, Dollar. Well, you. You want to talk first or you want me to? All right, I'll talk first. Mrs. Valentine's been staying here under the name of Ann Ward. You knew that? Yeah. Why didn't you say anything to me? She asked me not to. Doesn't make any difference now anyhow. That boy over there called us a little while ago. He said that Dan Valentine came in here this afternoon, went upstairs, came back down 15 minutes later with Mrs. Valentine. They both left together. Yeah. He must have seen the story in this morning's paper and guessed she was in town. That's the way I see it. Well, we're right back where we started from and I'm about sick of it. We're a little better off. Two people are easier to find than one. We found them all right at 7 o' clock that night, and it was easy. Three squad cars were already drawn up in front of the little hotel. And I noticed with a sinking heart that a hearse was there also. Dan Valentine and his wife were dead. There'll be another intriguing episode in our story of the Valentine matter tomorrow. Tomorrow. Proof that the murder of Dan Valentine and his wife aren't the only murders to be solved. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Starring Bob Bailey as transcribed Hollywood Written by John Dawson. It is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station for another exciting episode of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. What is all this? Johnny? Who's this? Roy Vickers, New Britain Mutual. What happened to Valentine? He was gunned down last night going into a hotel with his wife. No, the police here are turning the city upside down trying to get a line on two unidentified gunmen. Well, couldn't you keep him alive? I couldn't even find him. Well, well, this is no time to be yelling at each other. I just left his daughter. Huh? She filed claim already through that lawyer, Webster. No, no, she didn't Even know anything about him until the papers broke the story. Well, I. I'm sorry. I got annoyed for a second. Do what you can, Johnny. He'll want a full report. Sure, Roy, sure. Tonight, in every weekday night, Bob Bailey and the transcribed adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by special investigator Johnny Dollar to the New Britain Mutual Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is a further accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Valentine matter. Item nine, $7 for dinner. I had it with Inspector Charles Debaca, New Orleans Police. He was a haggard, tired looking man about that time all of us were. You want some more coffee? No, no thanks. Two men, both about 6ft, wearing dark suits and hats, medium to slight builds. One possibly 35, the other possibly 40. Well, that about ties up with a description of the two men who plugged Valentine earlier and earned him a place in the hospital. Yeah, we got more of a chance this time, though. Be some other witnesses. Somebody has to tell us what kind of a car, what direction they went. One thing, they weren't using silencers anymore. No, but they did a professional job. I think Valentine Newman climbed out of that hospital bed to go out looking for him. Sounds reasonable. How do you figure the rest of it, Inspector? Valentine saw the newspaper story and knew his wife was in town. He went over, got her. And I take it they were going to check into a new hotel. When their friends showed up. She just happened to get in the way, huh? Sure. Why'd anybody want to shoot her? Why would anybody want to shoot him? Well, because no matter what he was now or how he was playing it, he still lived pretty hard way back then. A man who's lived the kind of life he has and done the things he has is bound to make few enemies he'll remember. Now. I think it has something to do with his family. I agree with you that Valentine probably made enemies all over. But he wasn't the kind of man to get excited about any of those kind of people. He pretty well knew how to take care of himself and handle trouble. That's why he was out looking for them. You sound pretty certain. It seems to me that if Valentine had been expecting trouble from some of the old timers, he'd have carried a gun. You got a point. But then again, he was pretty gentled up. You know how he spent most of his time painting, huh? That house he bought out in Jefferson Parish is covered with pictures he's done since he's been out Oils pretty good, too. When he wasn't painting it, he was listening to music. You'd hardly think of Danny Valentine taking up the arts. Hardly ever. Well, I've got to make a call and get busy. Yeah. Inspector. Yeah? Any objection to me going out and looking around that house? It's your privilege. Personally, I'm gonna look around town for a couple of gunmen. Anyone out there now? His cook. Name's Yachino. Nice woman. Okay. I'll keep in touch with you, Inspector. Him do that. $. Now what? You forgot to tell me you looked up the old family lawyer, Conrad Webster, the other night. I was trying to find Valentine the same as you. Well, if you happen to run into Webster again, you tell him to drop in and see me, huh? He is missing. I didn't know what to say to that, so I left him standing there and went back to my hotel and shaved, changed clothes and tried to go over the whole thing in my mind. I did phone into the police station and find out that the slugs that had killed Valentine and his wife were from an Italian make pistol. A rum barrel, 37.5 caliber so far. Untraced expense account, item 10, cost of cab from my hotel to Danny Valentine's house in Jefferson Parish. Yes, sir. How do you do? Are you Mrs. Iachino? Yes, sir. Who are you, please? My name is Johnny Dollar, Mrs. Iachino. I'm from New Britain Mutual Insurance Company. I'd like to talk to you, if I may, about Mr. Valentine. Yes. Not right now, Mr. Dallas. Some other time, huh? Well, if you prefer it that way, Mrs. Iachino. But it's been a hard day here. I mean, Mr. Valentine's death and his wife been killed with him. All of these policemen in and out of here and now Ms. Ward and all. Ms. Ward? His daughter? Yes, she's here. Arrived two hours ago. She stay here. Could I see her? You come tomorrow, Mr. Dollar, please. And tomorrow. Mrs. Yachino. Yes, Ms. Ward. Who is it? Mr. Dollar. He's from the insurance company. Insurance company? Yes. I'd like to talk to him. Yachino. Theresa Ward stood at the base of the iron grill stairway, tall and dark eyed. And I saw that like her mother, she had a quiet intensity about her face that made it beautiful. At the same time, ageless. She smiled politely at me. I could only stand there without speaking for a long moment, looking at her. Then Mrs. Iachino excused herself and we were alone. I wanted to talk to someone who might be able to give me a little more information about all this. It's all quite new to me. I'll tell you what I can, Ms. Ward. My name is Valentine. Isn't it, really? Valentine? Yes, it is. Well, suppose we correct that mistake right now. Sure there's nothing wrong with Valentine. From what? A Mr. Vickers from the insurance office in Hartford told me I'm to be quite well off because of this man that was murdered. You mean Dan Valentine? Yes. Dan Valentine. Tell me. He was my father. Who told you? Oh, reporters at home. And your insurance company. Mother told me my name was Ward. Poor thing. Must have been difficult for her over the years, keeping the secret from me. Yes, she told me she thought it was the best thing. She? Well, the same as he did. Tell me about my father. Was he a bad man? Oh, as good or as bad as the Volstead act made people. I only met him a couple of times. Awaken one morning and discover that you're the only daughter of a famous racketeer who's been murdered. Look, Ms. Ward, if he had anything to do with the way you turned out, with what you seem to possess within yourself, I'd say offhand that whatever he was or did, he thought of you. Are you flattering me? I'm not trying to. You seem like a very nice person. And so do you, Mr. Darling. Will you tell me all about this, please? Well, let's see. You're 21, isn't that right? Yes. Just about 15 years ago or so. Your father was on trial for income tax evasion. Just before he was convicted, he set up a trust fund with my insurance company to provide for you. It's been paying money for your support and education ever since. According to the terms of the trust, all of the money becomes yours. Now that your mother and father are dead, it comes to well over $50,000. That's all there is to it. Mm. I suppose I'm grateful to him. I suppose I should be grateful. I can't say that I'm particularly sorry about his death any more than I would be if any other human being died violently somewhere. But about Mother's death. I miss her very much already, Mr. Darling. She was holding up pretty well until that point. Then she let go. I held her in my arms and I talked to her. I told her what I knew of her father's life and death. She told me how she'd been reared so far removed from anything that might have connected her in the least way with the Valentine name. Altogether, it was a revealing conversation for both of us. Mrs. Iachino brought us some food and wine. How Long will you be in New Orleans? Until all of this is straightened out. You mean until they find out who killed my mother and father? Yes. How about you? Oh, I really don't know. After the funerals, I suppose I'll go back. But I wanted to see him. To see what he looked like, what kind of life he led. He was just an ordinary man, wasn't he? Have you seen these pictures before? No. This is my first time in the house. Look like Italian landscapes to me. Very good. Mm. Must have been something he had with Mother. She was from Italy. May I ask you something? Yes. How do you feel about him now? Is this for your report? For myself. Well, since you've been here these last two hours, I. I began to think of him for what he was. My father, I mean. I'd like to know why he was killed and who did it. Will I see you again? I hope so, Terry. Yes, I hope so. Very much. So do I, Johnny. I left her at the door that night with a warm sensation inside of me. Something I certainly hadn't expected in the business at hand. The next morning, I was back at the house talking to Mrs. Iachino. She gave me all the information she could remember about Valentine's activities, all of it accurate, but lacking in any possible clue as to the identity of the two men who had killed him and his wife. I had breakfast with Terry there and helped her with funeral arrangements. Then I spent a solid 12 hours with inspector Debaca, who had still not located or identified the two mysterious men. However, there were other developments. This may be something, Johnny. Oh, Conrad Webster's been found. Huh? Up by Lake Pontchartrane. Just identified him. He was shot to death with a 37.5 Italian gun. Yeah, Just like the one that killed Dan Valentine and his wife. Later developed that the slugs taken from Webster's body, when compared with those that had killed the Valentines, were fired from the same weapon. The case took on proportions. Every available bit of information regarding the 2x big shots of the 20s was located red and re read. It meant activity in cities like St. Louis, Chicago, Detroit and New York. But no new information as to the identity of the killers. I went back to the house. Johnny. Here, here, here. What is this? You're shaking. Please. Sure. I suppose I'm being a terrible fool about it all, Johnny. But they've been after me all day. Cheap little things. Newspaper syndicate wants me to write my exclusive story as the shadow daughter of Dan Valentine, fairy Princess of Arakate. Take it easy. Take it easy. Even Hollywood called a producer. Oh, Johnny. I shouldn't have come here at all. Then. What would I have done, Terry? And what would I have done? Mix yourself a drink, Johnny. I'll go put on a new face. It had become apparent to me in the short time I'd known her that she'd grown to love the memory of her father. Also that the pressure of all that had happened was beginning to take its toll on her. We were walking down the gravel path away from the house. She was quieted down, I suppose I was thinking how nice it would be to kiss her. I twisted, trying for the gun inside my pocket, but there was nobody to shoot at. The two men who had fired the guns were already out of sight. I was alone with Terry Valentine, who was hanging on the gate. I caught her before she fell. I mean Jackie. She was dead before I could answer. There'll be the final intriguing episode in our story of the Valentine matter tomorrow. Tomorrow, a sober lesson in how long, how far and how deadly one man's hate can be. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by John Dawson, it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station for another exciting episode of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. Hey, what are you doing at the Valentine house? Get a car out here quick. Inspector, Terry Valentine's just been shot. Two guys showed up. When did all this happen? A few seconds ago. Ambulance no good. Debaca. She. She died in my arms. Oh. Do you think they're still around there? They must be. I'm going looking. Now wait a minute, wait a minute. This is a police matter. You stay put. I'll have a car then five minutes and you can. Johnny, I heard that. Your gun. Now look, you're all wound up. Don't do anything tonight. And every weekday night. Bob Bailey in the transcribed adventures of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to the New Britain Mutual Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of further expenditures during my investigation of the Valentine matter. Dan Valentine, ex gangster and of course your policyholder. But then his wife was killed too. Then his lawyer, then his daughter, the girl that I. 30 seconds after Terry Valentine died in my arms, I was stumbling down the gravel path that led from her house to the road. It had all happened so suddenly. I can't say that what I did from there on, or what I felt was entirely rational. All I know is I hadn't heard a car leave the area, which meant the two killers were still somewhere nearby. Then in the dim light, I saw the car. A man was climbing into it. Hey. Hey. Stop. Stop or I'll shoot. Get out of there. Get out of there and get your hands up. I'm a hit. I'm afraid to move. Come on, get out. Come on. Coming. I'm coming. You two, come on. Come on. It's no use on him, mister. He used up. You got him real good. I need a doctor. Help me get to a doctor. Stop right there, Doctor. Stand still. You pretty tough fella. What's your name? Sister. Sister what? It's good enough for you. I need a doctor bad. Listen. Tell it to me. Tell it to me right now. If you don't tell it to me now, you'll never tell it to anybody. Tell it. No. Tell it. I need doctor. Tell it. I die first. Johnny. Johnny. What is this? Who's he? He's gonna kill me. He's gonna kill me now. You better give me that gun, Johnny. Estate'll take care of him. Thanks. I should have done it. I wanted to do it. I know, son. Come on, let's get out of here. But I didn't get out of there. I waited around while they dug the body of the other man out of the smashed up car and while they carried the still lymph form of Teresa Valentine away. She was the third member of the family who had died violently within three days. I'm sorry about it, Donna. Inspector, I was hoping I might have been wrong, but she wasn't dead. Oh, you weren't wrong. Which one shot her, huh? The dead one or the one we still got in the hospital? Oh, I don't know. Both of them, I guess. You don't feel like talking to it? I'm just trying to pin it down. What about him? Can't get much out of him so far. He's in pretty bad shape. Let me ask him some questions. Inspector, I'm no police officer. I don't have to obey any rules. Take it easy, kid. You were about to do that once. And we'd be holding you for murder if you'd have gone ahead. I know how you feel about Theresa Valentine. Has he said anything at all? Nothing. We found papers on him and the other one. That makes him brothers Sisto and Darby Chianti from New York. So far it doesn't seem to be any connection with the Valentines. People like Valentine make a lot of enemies. But that girl doesn't figure. Yeah, I know you talked to her a lot these last couple of days, Johnny. What'd she say? Oh, nothing that had anything to do with this. You know yourself she didn't even know her name was Valentine until her father got shot at. Yeah, that could have been an act. And you could have been 20ft tall. Just trying. Trying with that punk you got upstairs in the hospital. We will, Johnny. We will. Just pardon. Johnny, you're bad news. Maybe I spoke too soon. Why? Sisto Chianti died five minutes ago. Expense account. Item 10. 10 bucks. Car rental. I went out to the Valentine house once more. Oh, Mr. Dolan. Hello, Mrs. Hachino. Please come in. So many policemen, so many reporters have been trying to close the house. Sure, I know how you must feel. I mean, about her. What are these Chianti brothers? Well, we don't know much about them yet. The New York police are still doing a rundown on them. Don't let me stop you, whatever you're doing. I'll just look around, if you don't mind. All right. Oh, one thing. Yes? Did Mr. Valentine make any provision for you? Yes, he thought of me. A thousand dollars. Whatever he was, the man I knew was kind and good and his sins had been forgiven him. I spent two hours or better going from room to room looking at the oils that Dan Valentine had painted. Pastoral scenes, happy scenes, gay scenes, all of them with colorful Italian backgrounds. I was thinking about that when I walked into Inspector Debaca's office late that afternoon. I don't get it, Johnny. Don't get what? Here. This came from New York on the Chanty boys. Oh, they came to this country when they were 18 and 21. Both of them were naturalized citizens. Lived with their father. Records? Not a thing. No trouble ever. What else? That's about it. New York police can't seem to locate their old man. Disappeared about a week ago. Lived on the east side. What's about him? That's another funny thing. He's taken out his papers and was due for an examination with the immigration people this week. They're looking for him too. We went out and had dinner together and talked about the case. It had been a strange one. The deaths were useless, the motives unknown. I parted company with Inspector Debaca and went back to my hotel to trouble it out with sleep. About 11 o' clock, I had a phone call. Johnny Dollar. This is Debaca. Old man Chanty just showed up at our city morgue. Wants to take his two sons back to New York for burial. Twenty minutes later, I was standing in the car while Inspector Debaca led a small, wizened old man into the room and sat him down on one of the chairs. Mr. Chanty. It's Mr. Dalla. How do you do, Mr. Chanty? I read about you. You killed my boys. Is it so? Yes. They'd killed four other people. I know, I know. But why did they kill the Valentine family, Mr. Chani? Why did they kill Conrad Webster, the lawyer? Do you know why she. I know. Then tell me. They're all dead now. I'm. I'm still alive, Mr. Dollar. He refused to talk about his sons or any of their activities. Debaca held him to answer to the immigration officials. He remained in his cell, silent and non committal to all visitors, including the chaplain. I appeared before the coroner's jury the following morning and was cleared of any charges. Pietro Cianti still had said nothing. And he looked at me as though he was going to keep on saying nothing. Ah, Mr. Cianti. I see you, Mr. Daughter. More questions. Dan Valentine's wife was your daughter, wasn't she? Wasn't she all right. You don't have to admit it. I have a copy of the marriage license right here. It came from New York this morning. She was my daughter. Is that all you have to say? Now? I know. Talk then. I will, Mr. Chanty. Because your daughter, Mrs. Valentine, had a daughter herself. Teresa. A lovely, wonderful girl that your two sons killed. I happen to know that girl. I might have been in love with her. I don't know. But I do know she had to die too. What? This Conrad Webster, Mr. Valentine. And my own daughter and granddaughter. They had to die. All bad, you see. I order it. You ordered it? And who are you? God? I am the father. When a daughter marries a bad man, only bad can come from it. The granddaughter was then bad. He come to our village many years ago, take her away. He and the man Webster help him, lived with me. The stealing of my own flesh and blood all this time. It grow inside of me. I am old, but I keep on living. Only so I can come here and find him and destroy him and her and the daughter and the lawyer man who help him. And I destroyed them through my sons. A whole family. Vendetta. Was that it? If you like vendetta. He was a bad man who did bad things. Batman. I smoke. Now you have a cigar away. The disposition of old Pietro Cianti is up to the immigration department. I didn't stay around New Orleans to learn the results of all the extensive examinations that would have to be completed to test his sanity. I'd had enough of the town. Expense account item 11 $140.20 hotel and board item 12 $28 Car rental miscellaneous that includes flowers to the Valentine family. Item 13 Same as item 1 $175 Transportation Back Home Expense Account Total $1,290.38 Remarks Whenever I close my eyes, I can see a lovely girl standing at the bottom of a long curving stairway, smiling because I'm in the room. That's all. Yours truly, Johnny. Do you remember? Please. There'll be another exciting story for you beginning next Monday night. Monday, the Lorco Diamond Matter in which a trip to Algiers makes Come with me to the Kasbah Sound like an invitation to a Sunday school picnic? Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Starring Bob Bailey as transcribers. Hollywood Written by John Dawson. It is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Heard in this week's cast were Lillian Byeff, Betty Lou Gerson, Barney Phillips, Will Wright, Forrest Lewis, Marvin Miller, Jay Novello and Jack Boyles. Be sure to join us on Monday night, same time and station for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking. Sam, we just heard Bob Bailey as Johnny Dollar in the Valentine matter. That will do it for this week's show. That will do it for this bonus episode. Thanks so much for joining me. I'll be back on Sunday with our next regular episode and I'll be back soon with another five part Johnny Dollar adventure. In the meantime, you can check out Stars on Suspense, my other old Time radio podcast. New episodes of that show are out on Thursdays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show in Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com meanstsotr I'll be back next time with more Old Time Radio crime fighters. But until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our start. Vincent Price Ladies and gentlemen. In a prejudice filled America, no one would be secure in his job, his business, his church or his home. Yet racial and religious antagonisms are exploited daily by quacks and adventurers whose followers make up the irresponsible lunatic fringe of American life. Refuse to listen to or spread rumors against any race or religion. Help to stamp out prejudice in our country. Let's judge our neighbors by the character of their lives alone and not on the basis of their religion or origin.