← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 605 - Kid Stuff (Box 13, Philip Marlowe, & Johnny Dollar)
02:11:20
It's not just adults who need a good detective. Our heroes this week come to the aid of kids in trouble. First, Dan Holiday helps a boy find a lost astronomer in "Archimedes and the Roman" from Box 13. Next, Philip Marlowe is hired to find the missing...
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Vincent Price
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 Dollar. Hello and welcome to down these Mean Streets and more old time radio detectives and crime Sol. This week our radio gumshoes come to the aid of children in trouble pint sized clients who seek out the services of these detectives. This is a staple of almost every classic detective TV show. There's some episode where a kid client approaches the detective with a generous offer to pay them in their allowance or with the contents of their piggy bank. Then the detective has a knowing smile and offers to waive their usual fee. Personally, if I was a private eye and a kid asked me to take on a dangerous job for nothing but spare change, I'd tell him to get lost. But that's what separates me from the stars of this week's show. First up is Alan ladd in box 13. In the syndicated mystery Archimedes and the Roman mystery writer and amateur sleuth Dan Holiday has a new client. A boy who wants Holiday's help in finding his friend. A friend who happens to be a missing astronomer. Then Gerald Moore stars as Philip Marlow in the Kid on the Corner originally aired on CBS on December 3, 1949. The titular kid is a newsboy who hires Marlow to locate his missing uncle. And finally, we'll hear Bob Bailey as Johnny Dollar in the five part mystery the Matter of Reasonable Doubt. This one originally played out on CBS over the evenings of May 28 through June 1, 1956. Johnny is dispatched to investigate when a wealthy woman makes several sudden changes to the beneficiary of her life insurance. And he discovers a plot by some unscrupulous relatives to get rid of her intended heir, a precocious teenage girl. And while the kid in this story isn't technically his client, she becomes a sort of partner to Johnny as he solves the case. The kids are alright and they're front and center in these radio mysteries. We'll kick things off with box 13 right after these messages. Are you looking for a smooth shave, men? Then try Fitch's no Brush Shaving cream. It'll give you the kind of shave you want. Because 40 years of experience have gone into the making of this product. Fitches no Brush contains a special skin conditioner ingredient that takes the work out of shaving. You won't have to struggle and scrape against stubborn whiskers because the skin conditioner prepares your face beforehand. It holds the whiskers up so your razor can zip them down closely and quickly. Even against the grain of a tough beard, your razor will glide swiftly, never nicking or scraping. Fitches no Brush is a boon to sensitive faces because it lubricates gently, keeping that tender skin from being irritated. After this quick, easy shave, your skin will feel cool and refreshed, wonderfully smooth. And if you prefer a lather cream, try Fitch's Brush Cream. It forms a rich, abundant lather when applied with a brush. This lather stays moist all during the shave. Fitch's Brush Cream also contains the special skin conditioner for sensitive faces. Fitch's Brush and Fitches no Brush Shaving Cream are available in handy 25 and 50 cent sizes. For a shave you like, switch to Fitch. Now let's take a quick musical trip to Blue Ribbon Lands to places around the world where folks enjoy internationally famous Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. Ready now. See how many you can guess. Yes, Paris is right. In gay Paris, folks just like yourself enjoy that smoother tasting Pabst Blue Ribbon finest beers served anywhere now. That's right. That's right. Managua, Nicaragua, another wonderful place where internationally famous Pabst Blue Ribbon is served and enjoyed. Next, Chicago is right. That's right. Yes. All over America, all over the world, folks enjoy that number one international favorite Pabst Blue Ribbon finest beer served anywhere. It's the beer the whole world knows about. And remember, the quality that has carried the fame around the world is yours for the asking. The next time somebody says, what do you have? Give them the world's best answer. That's smoother, smoother, smoother. Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. A word of advice for those of you who suffer from acid indigestion, heartburn or gas. Do you know about the little white tablets in the little green pocket robe? Just waiting for the moment when you need them to bring your acid indigestion under control. Chums are the little white tablets in the little green pocket robe. Chums for the tummy. T U M s bring relief quicker than you'd ever guess. Best for any kind of acid distress. Keep them handy in the pocket roll. Keep your tummy under Tums control. The modern Tums formula has never been surpassed for effectiveness. Always carry Tums 10 cents free roll pack a quarter or get the new 6 roll Tums pack with free metal carrier only 49 cents. Treat yourself often to refreshing, delicious Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum. There's lots of cooling, real mint flavor in every stick. And chewing Wrigley Spearmint helps keep you feeling fresh and alert. You feel better, work better, get more fun out of doing things. So indoors, outdoors, wherever you go, keep some healthful, refreshing Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum handy to make every day more enjoyable. Treat yourself often to delicious Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum. I dedicate this program to the fight against crime. Not merely crimes of violence and crimes of dishonesty, but crimes of intolerance, discrimination and bad citizenship. Crimes against America. Box 13 with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as dan holiday. Box 13, care of the Star Times. Dear Box 13, please come as quick as you can because I think there is something wrong. Nobody will listen to me because they think I don't know what I'm talking about. But I know there is something wrong and I think it's bad. My name is Marty Kennedy and I live at 203 Webster street in Collingwood. Come to the address and walk past whistling Yankee Doomsday. My name is Marty Kennedy and I live at 203 Webster street in Collingwood. Come to the address and walk past whistling Yankee Doodles, so I will know. You sure it was only a letter from a kid, but that kid knew what he was talking about. And now Back to box 13 and Dan Holliday's newest adventure, Archimedes and the Roman. But Mr. Holiday, there are lots of other letters. Are you going to pay any attention to this one from Audi Kennedy? Yeah, I think so, Susie, but it'll be a wild goose chase. You'll go all the way to Collingwood, then find out there's nothing wrong. Which might be a welcome change for me. Yes, I think I'll go, Susie. After all, there might be something in this. But Mr. Holiday, look at the handwriting. It belongs to a kid. So? So it'll be a wild goose chase. Okay, charge it off as a little vacation. Besides, sometimes kids have problems, Susie. Big ones. So maybe I ought to give Marty Kennedy a hand. So long, Susie. Collingwood was an easy 250 mile drive. It was a little town that sat at the foot of the mountain range. It was early afternoon when I got there and found 203 Webster Street. I left my car at the corner and walked past the address, box 13. Mm. Marty Kennedy. Yeah. Look, keep going down the street and I'll Meet you around the corner. Don't let on like we know each other, huh? Gotcha, Marty. See you around the corner. The toe headed kid made it look like good old cloak and dagger stuff. He trailed me to the corner of the street. And once we were out of sight of his home. This is okay. Nobody can see us now. Okay, Marty, what's on your mind? You got some. I. I got something that'll show me who you are. I think I can arrange that. Here. Here's your letter to me. Okay. You private eye? No, I'm not a private detective. You a policeman then? No, I'm afraid not. I'm. I'm a writer. Oh. Doesn't that sound romantic enough to you? Romantic? I mean, isn't it mysterious enough? Yeah, I guess so. But we gotta go someplace where we can talk. We don't want to be overheard. Oh, certainly not. Where do you suggest we going? I guess the rest of the kids ain't in the clubhouse. We can go there. Clubhouse? What kind? Just a shack we built. Can you climb a tree? Uh, do I have to? Well, the shack's in a tree, but nobody'll hear us there. Okay, Marty, lead the way and I'll go climb a tree. Say, you did pretty good. It ain't easy to climb this tree. Just don't ask me to hang by a tail, that's all. Now that we're sitting on top of the world, what do we talk about? You don't think I'm serious, do you? Oh, definitely. Incidentally, my name's dan Holliday. Okay, Mr. Holiday. You make it. Dan. As long as we're up a tree together, we've gotta be friends. Yeah, Well, I wanna know what's happened to Ted. Who's Ted? Well, here, look out this here window. See where I'm pointing? Yes. Toward the mountains. Well, see that shiny dome on the top of the biggest peak? Yeah. What about it? That's the Williams Observatory. They look at stars up there. They're astronomers. Oh, yes, yes, I've heard about it. Well, what of it? Ted's the assistant up there. He helps Professor Irving. All right. And then what? Every week Ted comes down for groceries and things. When he does, he gives me a lesson. Lesson in what? Astronomy. I like it. Oh, that's a good deal. But your friend Ted didn't show up this week. Is that what worries you? How do you know? Oh, I put two and two together. Oh. Well, when he can't make it, he signals me. And how does he do that? See that tower sticking up on the peak. I see it. He flashes me by mirror. But so far this week he didn't. Well, maybe he's been busy. That's what mom and Pop said, but I didn't think you'd say it. Oh, I'm sorry, Marty. Okay, let's go at it from a different angle. Suppose he isn't busy? In that case, what would keep him from coming down or at least flashing you the signal? I don't know. I wanted to go up, but mom and Pop wouldn't let me. Then I saw your ad in the paper, so I wrote to you. In other words, you want me to take a run up to the observatory and find out what's wrong. Is that it? That's it. You couldn't have asked someone else? I mean, a forest stranger? Someone who goes up there? Gee, no, no. That wouldn't have been mysterious enough, would it? You making fun of me? Oh, no, no, not at all, Marty. Now, what's your friend's full name? Ted. What? Ted Whitman. And are he and Professor Irving the only men up there? Uh huh. All right, Marty, I'll tell you what. I'm gonna take a run up there and see what's what. Be sure and let me know, will you? Absolutely. And you won't say a word to anybody. This is just between us, huh? Just the two of us. Promise? On my honor. Swell. Because if mom and Pop knew I'd bothered anybody, I'd get the Deckons. Oh, in that case, mum's the word. Okay, Marty, let's get out of this tree before a high wind comes up. I left Marty Kennedy and drove toward the hills. High on the tallest peak, the silver dome of the observatory turned to crimson in the sunset. I laughed at myself, at what I was doing, but I kept going until I reached the summit. An iron gate blocked the way to the narrow connecting road that led to the observatory itself. I got out to open it when. Sorry, mister, no visitors allowed. Oh, hello there. Hello. Don't open the gate. Leave it closed. I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was around. Did you lose your way? No. As a matter of fact, I intended to come here. All right. I'm looking for someone. Yeah? Who? Ted Whitman. What do you want with him? I wanted to see him. All right. I'm Ted Whitman. Oh, okay, then I guess we can talk here. What about? A friend of yours. Oh, a kid named Marty Kennedy. Oh, sure. Marty. How is he? Oh, he's fine, but he's a little worried about you. Oh, I'm okay. There's Nothing wrong. Thanks. Anyway, he wondered why you didn't signal him when you didn't get down this week. Signal? Oh, I. I didn't have time. I. I see. Well, is that all you came up to tell me? Yeah. Yeah, that's all. Okay. It's pretty dark on the road at night. If you don't know the turns, you can get into trouble. So if you leave now, you can make it back down in time. Oh, thanks. Any message for Marty? Tell him that. Tell him I'll see him next week. All right. Well, is there anything else, mister? No, I guess that's all. Sorry to have bothered you. That's okay. Careful turning your car around. It's pretty steep right there. Yeah, I noticed. Well, so long. How long? Who was that? Nobody. I thought I heard steps. You didn't. Now, look, mister, it's getting dark. You better turn around. Who's that? Who is it? It's somebody to see me, Professor. You better get back to the cottage. Please, please, we've. Shut up. What's the matter up here? Nothing. I told you to turn your car around. Get back down the mountain. No, please, don't go. Don't. Don't. Hey, what's the idea of hitting that old man? Okay, you asked for it, mister. Now come on in with your hands in the air. What's the idea? Come on in, mister. You had your chance to get out of this. Now it's too late. Do all astronomers carry guns? He's not. Shut up. All right, you, whoever you are, help the old guy up until you walk in front of me. Come on, you heard badly Professor. No, no, but he is. He who? Shut up. Hey, wait a minute, you. What's your name? Holiday. Okay, get back to your car and lift the hood. Go on. Take out the distributor cap. Hurry it up. Throw it over here on the ground. Now come back in. Pick up that big boulder on your way. That one. This one? Yeah, that one. Don't think of anything to do with it except what I tell you. I know what I'd like to do with it. Yeah, but you won't try, because I'll get both of you. Now, smash that distributor. Why not just take my car keys? Because lots of people carry extra cents. Smash that distributor. That suit you? Yeah. Now, like I said, both of you walk in front of me to the cottage and one band move and I'll put a bullet right in the back of your head. We walk to the cottage. Professor Irving hung on my arm. He tried to tell me something, but each time he started to Whitman shut him up. Then we got to the cottage and stepped inside. Billy. Billy. Yeah, what do you want? Hey, who's that? Company. Who is he? What's he want up here? I thought you said nobody come up. He. Quit yapping. The holidays. Sit down. You too, Professor. Take it easy, Professor. That's it. Please, let me phone for a doctor, please. Sure, when I'm ready. Look, this ain't good. Why'd this guy come up here? He's looking for Whitman. Then if he's looking for him, somebody else is liable to do the same thing. Can you take it easy, Holiday? Why did you come looking for Whitman? So you're not Ted Whitman. That's right. Now answer my question. I told you. A friend of his was worried about him. Asked me to see if he was all right. I see. Frank, I told you. I told you. Will you stop blabbering? We gotta get out of here. Frank, we just got. Shut up. One more peep out of you and I'll lock you up in that iron dome outside. I'm scared. Now talk, Holliday. How many other people besides you know about this? Look, I don't know what you're talking about. What do you mean by this? Anybody else looking for Whitman? I wouldn't know. You know, maybe you'll talk better after a little persuasion. I wouldn't try anything, Frank. Talk. Talk, I said. Tell him, Mr. Holliday. Tell him or he'll kill you. He will. He's letting Ted die. Ten needs a doctor. He's shot. Be quiet. Okay, Holiday. Talk. I had to talk. I told Frank about the letter from Marty Kennedy. He knew I was telling the truth and he seemed satisfied. But I still didn't know what the game was or who Frank was or what he was doing there. Then later that evening. Billy. What? Turn on the radio. Just time for the news, Boy. You know what it's gonna say. Turn it on. I don't like it up here. For the last time, will you please get a doctor for Ted? He'll die. I did the best I could, but he needs a doctor. Too bad, isn't it? Let me see. Maybe I can do something for him. You can't let a man die in cold blood. A daring single handed jewelry store robbery holds the spotlight. The clerk who resisted the robber died this morning. The car in which the killer escaped was found abandoned about five miles north of Collingwood. And. And now you know, don't you, Hannity? Yeah, now I know. It's funny, huh? Yeah, it is. How do you think you're going to get away from here in Billy's car. She met me after the job I pulled. My car is abandoned. I stay up here where no one will think of looking for me. And after the roads are cleared? After the police think you've left the state, what then? What I said. I get away clean. Now, what about us? What do you think? Want me to tell you? Well, go ahead. You'll have to kill us too, won't you? You've already got one murder on your slate. A couple of more won't make any difference. Not as long as you can save your own dirty hide. You talk big and brave, but it doesn't worry me. Now I'll tell you something, Holiday. Yeah? What else? You hit the nail right on the head. I gotta kill you and the professor because I don't want anybody left to tip the cups when I leave here. And Holiday, Just as soon as the radio tells us the roads are clear, that's when you get it. And now back to Archimedes and the Roman. Another box 13 adventure with Alan Land as. Damn Holiday. Frank met. What? He said he'd kill us when he felt it was safe for him to leave. He watched Professor Irving and me every minute. Finally, I talked him into letting me take a look at Ted Whitman. Professor Irving was with me. Is he going to die? He's in bad shape. The wound needs cleaning and redressing more than anything else. He needs a hospital and a doctor's care. Is there anything we can do? Listen. Marty Kennedy. You know him? Yes. He told me Ted signaled him from the observatory here. How was it done with the mirror? Morse code. Look, Marty will be watching for a signal. But you can't get up there to signal that. That beast won't let you. Yes, I know. So I won't even try to do it. But it's the only way. No one ever comes up here. No visitors? No. This is just an observation station. Our work is routine. Photographic spectral analysis. Nothing to interest the casual visitor. Doesn't anyone in town think of anything when you don't get in? No. No, we often lose contact for several weeks at a time. But how about supplies? We got them last week. They'll think nothing of it if we don't show up for another five or six days. That's great. Just great. But you said you. You weren't going to make an attempt to signal. That's right. If Marty doesn't hear from me, maybe he'll talk. Maybe someone will be interested enough to come up here. I see. That might Work. Yes, that might work. It might work, Professor. Well, I asked you a question. Let him alone. He's an old man. Let him alone. What are you two whispering about? Come on, spill it. Nothing. We were talking about Ted. You're a liar. What did he mean when he said it might work? Nothing. Okay. You want me to let him alone, don't you, Holiday? What are you going to do? Work on him a little bit. Oh, why you felt. Now, Holiday, will you tell me or do I get it out of the old man? Let him alone. I'll tell you. Once again, I had to tell the truth. Frank would have recognized the lie. It was a trapped rat, and his instinct made him shop. The next morning, he made me go to the sun tower and signal. And what I was to say he'd written down. And he had a book of Morse code handy. I didn't have a chance to trick him. L I D A Y H E R E have been busy. Holiday here. Good. Now we'll see if the kid answers. Look, why don't you give the professor a break? Time up. Do anything, but don't kill him. I take no chances with anybody. Well, take me with you, but give the old man a break. You both get it? I take no chances. I'm looking at the electric chair right in his face and I don't like it. Hey, hey, look. The kid's flashing back. Take it down when I give it to you. Dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dash, dot, dot, dot, dash, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dash, dash, dot, dash, dash. That's. That's a Y. And that's the last letter. Okay, let's see what we got. Hello, Ted and Mr. Holiday. This is Marty. Glad to know you are all right. I'll be here again tomorrow waiting to talk to you, Marty. Hey, this is perfect, Frank. What good is it we're sitting up here while the cops are looking for us? I'm using brains, Billy. As long as the kid thinks everything is all right up here, he won't worry. He'll talk. You'll say he heard from Whitman. See? Very clever, Frank. Congratulations. Thank you. Now more than ever, no one's going to look up here. You're going to signal every day until I get ready to leave. See, Holiday? All it takes is brains. Yes, that's all. You know, Frank, you remind me of someone. Yeah? Who? A Roman soldier. He's nuts, Frank. No, no, no. I want to hear what he's going to say. Go on, Holiday. Maybe you don't know the story, but I'm Sure, Professor Irving does. About Archimedes and the Roman. Yes, I know it. Okay, Holiday, tell us the story. All right. Archimedes was a Greek, a great scientist and a mathematician. He lived in Syracuse, on the island of Sicily. In the year 212 BC, the Romans besieged the city and sacked it. What kind of a story is this? Very much like the one we're going through now. Go ahead, finish it, Holiday. Okay. Well, the invading Romans looted the city. And one of them, looking for spoils, entered a garden. There he saw an old man sitting alone, drawing circles in the sand with a stick. The Romans spoke to the old man, Archimedes, but the old man thought of nothing but his circles and his science. The Roman ran him through with his sword. So what of it? Well, no one remembers the soldier's name, but Archimedes has never been forgotten. What are you trying to do, give me the willies? No, he's trying to scare me. But he doesn't. You're still going through it, huh? You're going to kill a man who lives for nothing but science? I take no chances. He hasn't harmed you or anyone else. I won't beg him for my life, Mr. Holliday. It wouldn't do you any good. Now get in your own. Both of you. Maybe tomorrow will be the day. We put a tag on the story. But it wasn't. Radio reports by short wave said the police were still looking in that area. I was forced to signal Marty that everything was all right. Then, two days later. This is the day, Holiday. It's too bad the old guy's name is an Archimedes. You still don't want to give him a break, huh? Stop yapping about it. This Ted's worse. We've got to do something. You won't have to worry about it anymore, Archimedes. Oh, I see. I'm sorry, Professor Irving. Maybe if I hadn't come up here, you wouldn't have. It would have been the same Holiday. Billy. Billy. Yeah? What's the matter? Get the things packed. We're pulling out tonight. Honest? Yeah, honest. But is it all right? I mean, the cops, they're off the trail. Yeah. Yeah, I picked their calls up on the short wave. Everything is just ducky, baby brother, I'll be glad to get out of this place. Maybe it's doing these guys a favor. What'd they have up here, anyway? A whole life. A whole life deep in the immensity of space. Dan, I'm sorry you have to be in on this. Me? I'm an Old man. Sir. It's all right, Professor. Here we are. Four little people in the limitless well of the universe. Four tiny lives. It does seem odd, doesn't it? All the billions upon billions of miles out there and we're just a speck. For crying out loud, that talk gives me the creeps. Frank. Make em shut up. Yes, shut up. Oh. Scared a little. Frank, tonight when you leave here, look up into the sky. Just remember how tiny you really are. Swallowed up in the immense stretches that are so huge that a billion miles is only. Only a speck. The Roman soldier, huh? Yeah, that's right. What about Ted Whitman? He'll die anyway. He shouldn't have gotten my way when I first came up here. Just push anybody out of the way. Kill him if you have to. I take no chances. I use my head. Stop arguing with him, Frank. I'm getting nervous. We ought to get out of here right now. We'll get out tonight when it's dark. Okay, Holiday, let's go to the tower and signal that kid. Why should I? You're going to kill us anyway. Why should I? Give you a break? If I don't signal, Marty will get suspicious. You'll signal. Can you make me? Yeah, I can. Go ahead. Beat me. Then I'll be in great shape of signal. Look, either you do it or all Archimedes here takes it for you. Do it, Dan. But if we're going to die, why give this rat a break? For Marty's sake. For Marty's sake? Yes. I don't want the boy to miss what's going to happen tonight. What are you talking about? Be careful, Frank. Don't let him trick you. I'll use my brains now. What are you talking about? You, Archimedes. What do you mean? Professor Ted. Ted taught Marty astronomy. The boy has a wonderful natural intonation for it. There are too few of us like Marty. I want him to see the comet tonight. He won't look for it if I don't tell him. If you don't signal him about it. Well, how do you like that? Something you wouldn't understand, Frank. Okay, so I don't understand it. Who wants to? All right. Write down what you want me to signal, Professor. I'll do it. Thank you. It'll be short. How do you like that? He's gonna get killed and he wants to tell a kid about a comet. You know, I'd die much happier if I had just one good crack at you. Yeah, sure you would. I'll stick my chin out and let you take A punch at it. Here's the message. Thanks. Let me see that. Come on, hand it over. Sure. Read it. Yeah. Anything wrong with it? Just tells the kid to look for a comment. Don't send it. Frank, there's something wrong. I run this show. You think these two can pull a fast one on me? There's no code in this. I. Look. No, there's no code, Frank. Sometimes the first letter of each word spells another word. I know. I know. I looked. Can you make anything out of L, F, H, C, T? Well, I guess not. Okay. Come on, Holiday, let's go. I signaled Marty. He answered. I prayed that the kid would understand. Then we went back to the cottage. The afternoon passed and it was early evening. And in the cottage. It's about time we went, ain't it, Frank? No, not quite. The sun's not all the way down yet. But the longer we stay, the worse it's going to be. Will you stop yapping? We've been here all day. Nothing's happened. That's right. Nothing's happened. I wonder if Marty's looking for the comet. I guess he is. I bet there ain't no comet. But you're wrong. There are over 900 comets recorded. And five or ten more are discovered every year. Save it, Archimedes. You're not teaching a class now. And you, Billy, take it easy. It's been over seven hours since we flashed the message. All the same, we better go. Yeah. Yeah. The sun's down. It'll be dark enough. Okay. Holiday. Archimedes. On your feet. For the last time, take me along with you. Tie the professor up, but don't kill him. I take no chances. On your feet, both of you. Don't you try that again. Or you'll go out the hard way, little by little. Now move. Get in the next room and face the wall. Right in the back, huh? Sure, unless you want to see what you're getting. Okay. Hey, what's that? Sounded like a car. Douse the light. Fast. Something unforeseen. Frank. Frank. Who is it? Don't worry. Can't be anybody that knows anything. Even if it isn't, I can see by moonlight they're rangers. They've got guns and they can use them. There's a kid with him. Marty Kennedy. That kid? Okay, he asked for it. I take no chances. Don't shoot that kid. Shut up. Look out. All right, drop it. Drop the gun. Well, Frank, this time Archimedes wins. You dirty rat. I've been waiting to do that for two days. Gee. Gee, Mr. Holiday. Professor, where's Ted? He'll be all right, Marty, as soon as we can get him to a doctor. But you, You're a smart boy. I thought you'd guess it, Marty. Oh, gee, I knew something was wrong, but it took me a long time to make anybody else believe it. Shucks, I knew Ted or anybody else up here wouldn't send me such a silly message. And is Ted Whitman going to be all right, Mr. Holiday? Sure, he'll be all right. But what was the message that made Marty think something was wrong? To watch for a comet that night. Wolf, There are over 900 comets and five or ten new ones discovered every year. What was silly about it? This was a particular comet, Susie. A very particular one. Well, gee, tell me, what was it? Remember the first letters of each word? L, F, H, C, T. Yeah. Look for Halley's Comet night. Well, Halley's Comet has a big orbit. It takes 75 years for it to get around and it isn't due until 1985. Good night, Susie. Listen in again next week when, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan holiday in box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville with this week's original story by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager and the part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker. Vern Carstensen is in charge of production. This is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount picture. 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 or the grave. This time it started with a kid hawking papers on Hollywood Boulevard and moved from there to a house full of hate on a quiet street, a blond liar on ice skates and a corpse in a burned out shack. And it all wound up right where it really began. In the heart of the Kid on the Corner. From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of crime fiction, comes his most famous character in the Adventures of Philip Marlowe. Now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlow. We bring you tonight's exciting story, the Kid on the Corner. After a day jammed full of heat waves in December, actresses who passed mascara and long A's off as talent and producers with glossy convertibles and holes in their shoes, the world looked as phony as a seven dollar bill. And when I finally closed my office, stepped out onto Hollywood Boulevard into the glare from miles of sheet iron cross Christmas trees on lamppost trunks and watched a loudspeaker Santa Claus with neon reindeer trundled by in a cloud of artificial snow. I'd have gladly traded all of Hollywood, California, for one quiet Vermont hillside and thrown my license in to boot. All of which convinced me that what Marlow needed most was a martini in his own apartment, a good book and a night's sleep, in that order. So I started home after them, but only got as far as the middle of the street. Hey, Mr. Marlow, wait up. It was the kid who sold papers on the corner. Mr. Marlow, can you spare a minute? I gotta talk to you. Okay, Tommy, let's get out of the street first, huh? I'm not so good at dodging fenders. Oh, yeah, sure. What's on your mind, kid? It's about my Uncle Bert. Bert Larson. He. He's gone, Mr. Marlow. What about your family, Tommy? Don't they know where he is? I don't have no family. I've been living with Uncle Bert in a flat down in Van Ness. Hey, if you haven't had your dinner yet, maybe you'd eat with me in the cafeteria, huh? It's. It's real important to me, Mr. Marlow. Anything that's important to you, kid, is important to me. Let's go in. Oh, swell. I should have known something was wrong when I heard him walking around late last night. You know, he said he was after a drink of water, but he's got those metal plates, kind of like taps on his shoes. So I knew he was all dressed, only I was too sleepy to think anything about it. Then maybe he just got an early start and he's been busy today, huh? It's not like that, Mr. Marlow. Something's wrong. Well, you have, Gentlemen. The pork's nice tonight. Stew's the best deal for the money. Mr. Marlow, I'll have the stew, please. Yeah, you better make it too, miss. Okay, a couple of stews coming up. See, when I got up this morning, I found this envelope on the dress. There was 200 bucks inside, and this was written on the front. Let's see it. Dear Tommy, must leave town on business. I'll send more money soon. Be a good kid and take care of yourself, Uncle Burt. I see what you mean. Yeah. I spent all day trying to find out where he went. I checked everything but the airport. I know he wouldn't take a plane. He gets dizzy just standing on a curb. No luck, though. Milk, Mr. Marlow? No, I'll have coffee. Tommy, I feel rugged. There's a table over in the corner. Come on, huh? Okay. What really makes it fishy is that Uncle Bert's got no out of town business. Besides, he's never been out in front more than 20 bucks in his life. I can't figure it. Now look, Tommy, if you're really worried you don't want me, you ought to go to the police right away. Cops? Yeah. No, I can't. Why not? Well, Uncle Bert's been awful good to me, but. Well, I guess he's really kind of a bum. You see, He's a gambler, Mr. Marlow, a bookie. Just a harmless small timer. Sure, but I'd get him in an awful jam if I called a. Will you try to find him for me? I got dough. I'll pay you whatever you charge. Don't worry about the money, Tommy. I got one lead for you. This name here in the back of the envelope, see? Yeah. Lester Carney. And the number? Three thousand four and a half. Does that mean anything to you, kid? No. I'd have looked that guy up my cell phone. You know how far a kid could get? Sure. Gee, Mr. Marlow, I'm sure my uncle didn't leave town. It's something else. It gotta be he's in some kind of trouble. Now, Tummy, you know that he might be on the wrong end of it, don't you? Yeah, well, if that's right, I. I want to find it out fast, Mr. Marlowe. Here's a picture of him. Scared, son? Me, scared? Nah, not for myself anyway. I. Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am, kind of. I'll okay Tommy to dinner and then get back to work. I'll see what I can find out, huh? I patted my new client on the shoulder and left the cafeteria. But I was sure of one thing. The dry rot that gets the most people in Hollywood wouldn't touch. A hardworking kid named Tommy Lawson was already smarter at 15 than a lot of citizens get at 50. I stopped in a phone booth and found the name Lester Carney listed in the book at 8110 Cherokee Street. That turned out to be an oversized California Spanish model that had taken lots of old fashioned wealth to build. Halfway up the curving walk to the already open front door, I heard the voices. If that's the way you feel, I don't want you in this house another night. Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't think that spying and telling Liza are part of a maid's duties. So I'm leaving. But I would like to know about my back salary first. You can't get your Back salary, my girl. Don't worry about that. Now get out. Very well, Mom. Excuse me, sir. Oh, yeah, sure. Well, what do you want? I'm looking for Mr. Lester, Connie. Is he in? He is not. Oh. Would you mind telling me where I can locate him? I don't know and I don't care anymore. Just a minute, just a minute. Is he with Bert Lawson? Maybe. I don't know what you're talking about. Now get out of here. And good night to you too, Mrs. Conning. Hey, hey, Susan. Just a minute, baby. Who are you calling baby? I call anybody baby when they're as cute as you are. You're not so bad yourself. Well, now that that's established, let's get friendly. I'm always friendly. But they're not, huh? Oh, there's going to be trouble in that house. Oh, well, good night, mister. Now wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. I'll give you a lift in the car. Let me have your bag. Well, all right. Thank you. Yeah. Say, what about that trouble you spoke of, Susan? What did you mean, Mrs. Carmel? Julia? She isn't as pretty as she used to be. She's turned her hands in. She's driven that poor husband of hers out of his mind. He almost never comes home nowadays. Practically lives in his studio. Studio? What kind? Photography. It's way up in the Hollywood Hills someplace. Susan, did you ever hear either of them mention a Bert Lawson? No. Why? Who's he? A gambler. I gather from Julia that Connie's blowing the family fortune, huh? Sure he is. And that's not all she's driven him to. No, what else? What do you think? Another woman, of course. An ice skater named Carol King at the Igloo. That's that nightclub with the skating show. Yeah, I've been there. Does Mrs. Connie know? Oh, she suspects. That's why she wanted me to spy on him. But I wouldn't because I don't blame him one bit. Not with Julia being like she is. Yeah, maybe you're right, Susan. But then again, maybe you've got your cause and effect backward, huh? Yes, well, I don't know anything about that. But that poor man's been driven so crazy he's threatened to kill her. Well, here's where I get out and stay out. I dropped Susan off at car stop and headed out Sunset Boulevard for Westward in a club called the Igloo, which looked more like a down at the heel Taj Mahal than an Eskimos bedroom. Inside a line of fast moving ostrich plumes. With rye, crisp waistlines and imitation sable zipped over a short sheet of tinted ice toward the climax of chorus numbers. While I bluffed my way backstage and intimidated the call boy into sending over one Carol King, she turned out to be left end in the lineup out front. So I sat down on a cold trunk and waited until the curtain fell. And I got up to greet an athletic blonde with more than healthy face who Seidel dubiously taught me, ice skates and all. And I introduced myself and told her I was looking for Bert Lawson. Why are you looking for Burt Larson, Marlow? Well, because people say he's disappeared. Now, I know he's a bookie. You don't have to protect him on that score. And I'm no cop. Just want to know where he's gone. Okay. I hear he made a real killing yesterday. The first one in his life. I understand he's leaving town to retire. Who's going to make book for you from now on? Nobody. I never play the horses. My friends do. Oh, friends like Lester Carney? Lester? Well, now we get down to business. You smell like you're working for a wife, shamus. Yes again, sugar? I'm after Burt Larson, nothing else. That's why I want to talk to your friend. Where is he? Mr. Carney is no friend of mine. You know, you should be smart enough to know you're just wasting your time with that pitch. Look, bud, he was my friend, sure, but that's all off as of an hour ago. They're all through. Washed up. I gave him the boot. Why? Did he run out of blank checks? I ought to bust your shin. Why don't you keep those skates on the floor, honey? Then skip the cracks. I threw him out because I got sick and tired of waiting. He's kept me on the string for months with nothing but promises. Said he hated his wife, but when it comes down to cases he refused to lever. Why, I don't know. Got some hold over him he hasn't nerve enough to break. So I wrapped him up in a neat little bundle and sent him home. It was a mess. I'll bet between you and Julia, he must be in a great frame of mind tonight. That's his problem now, brother, not mine. What is yours? How to keep your life on ice. No, wise guy. For your information, I'm quitting this show. Gonna make a clean break all around. Happy landing. But look, what's the connection, if any, between Lawson and Kearney? Why, Mr. Marlow, I have no idea. Isn't that wonderful? Okay, sugar. That's where we'll leave it for now. But in making that clean break, be sure it's not your neck. I'll see you around. I had nothing tangible to base it on, but as I left the igloo and drove back to Hollywood. But for some reason, I kept thinking that Tommy Lawson was right, that his uncle was still in town and in some kind of trouble. And I was sure that at least half of Carole King's story had been lies. But why, I couldn't figure. And another idea hit me and hit me hard. I turned onto Cherokee again and drove up to Connie's house at 8110, parked and went in there. The vague hunch began to shape up like grim fact because the. The front door was wide open and spilling a pale glow from the one light in the house. The hall lamp. I saw the note propped under the lamp even before I went in. I left it where it was. It said, to whom it may concern, I have paid all my just debts. My affairs are in order. And since life has been made intolerable for me, I have destroyed that which made it so. My wife, Julia. Now there's nothing left. I shall dispose of myself, nor am I sorry. Lester Carney and I looked up beyond the note and saw her lying at the edge of the circle of light from the lamp. Julia had been strangled by a silk cord that was still embedded in her swollen throat. I turned and started for the phone. There we are. Oh. So I got here a little too late, huh? Or is it too soon? My wife's dead, so what's the difference? Better stand still because I'll shoot fast. Who are you and what are you doing here? Name's Marlow, and I assume you're Connie. All right. I'm a private detective trying to find Bert Larson. In the process, I got mixed up in your little fiasco. From one end to the other. Bert Larson. Just a cheap bookmaker. Made one of the very few people who ever gave me a fair break. Where is he, Connie? Do you know? No. Does it matter? Too bad. You bunted in here just now. The man's gonna do what I've decided to do. It's a most personal, private affair. It's your party, but maybe you better think it all over again, huh? I've already thought it over thoroughly. Turn around and walk through that door to the kitchen. Go on. Sure, sure. All right, stop there. Now open that door on your right. This one? Yes. Years ago, that cellar was filled with the best wines the world had to offer. What Happens you pull too many. Find out for yourself, Maro. Oh, in just a moment, the second act of Philip Marlo. But first, will Tyrone Power listen to Jack Benny's siren song? Will ty consent to portray CBS's great Sunday night musician and lover in the movie the Life of Jack Benny? Tune in tomorrow and find out. No. There's never a question about the quality and quantity of comedy and sheer entertainment on CBS on Sunday night. And remember, the Jack Benny show is heard on all of these CBS stations. Now with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe and tonight's story, the kid on the corner. Lester Carney. Bouncing the private detective down the cellar stairs had been rough on both the inner and outer man. And my jaw was bleeding where his heavy signet ring had connected. And I was back on my feet through the dusty jumble of barrels and boxes, over to a grimy side window and finally out onto the street. I found neither confessed killer nor car any place in sight, which made my next step a return trip into the house. And I called a Lieutenant Matthews. All right, Marlowe, from your client to Giulia Carney to that ice skater and back to Giulia Carney. Now, Dad, I follow, but the. Why, I don't. Where's the connection between the newsboy's uncle and this guy you say is on the way out, this Lester Connie Matthews? I don't know. You don't know? You're not saying which philosophy? Well, maybe it's a little of each. Now, look, Lieutenant, I. Just a second. What is it, Marlow? All the wire. William Matthews. Okay, but make it snappy, will you, Phil? Killer on the loose isn't such a good idea. Even if he's promised to knock himself off. Might decide to take somebody else along. 3400northwestmore. 3004 and a half. I can't hear you, Phil. What? What? Oh, a piece of paper, Matthews, in a dead woman's hand. Oh, now, you're fine. Got an address on it? The same address that was on the back of the envelope. Tell me his uncle left for him. Well, this address could be the connection I asked you about. Yeah? Yeah, the hook between Uncle Bert and the Connies. Well, we'll get right over there. Matthews. Wait a minute. Let me try it alone first, will you? I. I think it's. It'll play better that way. And keep the kid's uncle out of the police lineup that way. Marlow, I can't. Now, wait a minute, Matthews, please. I'm thinking of the kid. Yeah, well, I'm okay. Atta boy. Just don't make it too long till I hear from you again. Goodbye. I knew that the 3000 block on North Rossmore wasn't even close to the Hollywood Hills. Which meant that the address couldn't be the dilettante photographer studio that the Connie's ex mate had described. And 20 minutes later, when I was out of my car and standing next to the doorbell marked 3004 and a half, I knew something else. Because the name underneath was Carol King. A light showed from someplace deep inside. And my leaning on the doorbell only proved that it worked. There was no answer at 3,004 and a half. But 3,004, the other twin to the duplex, was different. It featured a sweet old lady who shattered the illusion the second she opened her mouth. I suppose you're just another one of that King girl's friends, eh? Why? Do I look the type, Granny? There is no type, young man. Ms. Carole King entertains all sorts. Oh, which might include a recent Someone who's gray at the temple, short and maybe talks a lot about the ponies. Well, now that I know what a guest talk about. Oh, you gotta be kidding. Look, honey, a woman's been murdered tonight. Murdered? I knew it. I knew it. It had to come to a bad end only yesterday I told him. Hold it, Granny. Carol is not the one who's dead. Oh, yes, well, I'm glad sticks out all over you. Now, look, what about that man? Well, he was here about 30 minutes ago, just the two of them, drinking that hard liquor like it was water and making enough noise to raise the devil itself. A farewell party, they called it. Oh, did you see him leave? No, no, Henry made me come in. Dan and I. What? I mean. Yeah, I know what you mean. You missed it. Okay, Granny, now look, how do we get in here without kicking the door down? Come on, sweetheart. It's important. There may be a body inside. A body? Oh, well, how awful. Here, here. Over here. Behind this ledge. That's better. She's always kept a spare key. Yes, yes. Here it is. You do it. I'm too shaky. You shouldn't be. Just think of tomorrow, Granny. And the news you'll have for one. And all the light switches is on your right there. See anything? No. How many rooms here? Bedroom, kitchen and bath. Aside from this. Anything in there? No. You suspect foul play all right, don't you? The foulest. Don't let it worry you because. Hey, those photos there on the wall, they're taken from Mulholland Drive, aren't they one by day, one by night, both in the same spot. The Hollywood Hills. Sure, sure. That's where he has a studio, that Lester fellow. Yeah, that Lester fella. Granny, do you know where it is? I mean, Mulholland Drive and where? You know that street runs for miles along the top of the mountain? Of course I do. Was born and raised here in Los Angeles. Granny, Where? Mulholland and where Mulholland? Laurel Canyon Boulevard, just south of the intersection. Thank you, sweetheart, and goodbye. Wait one moment now, if you please. What's the matter? What's your name? Officer, I know my rights. Your name and your division, Granny, dear, I'm no cop. Huh? I said I'm no cop. Oh, not a police officer. Well, then who are you? Just a passerby. A stranger in the night. Good night, Granny. All the way from Rossmore to Sunset, then west to Laurel Canyon Boulevard, I kept worrying about Tommy Lawson and the uncle who, from where I stood, needed at least worrying about no matter which way things played. But when I was on the strip of macadam that twisted its way upward toward Mulholland Drive like a snake writhing from a long, long belly ache, I forgot about both client and relatives alike. Because at the top and a little to the south, where Granny had said it would be, was Lester. Connie Studio all right, but burned to the ground. Well, he select Flyway joint. You'll go fast, huh? Yeah, within 20 minutes on this one. Hey, mister, where you going? Some of that metal stuff's still pretty hot. Who are you with, the law? No, Chief. I'm a private detective. Detective named Marlow. I was wondering if Lester Carney was caught in there. He owned this shack. I know. Was he a friend of yours? No, it's strictly business. He's wanted for murder. Yeah, he was wanted for murder, Phil. He was burned to a crisp in there. Hello, Casey. Hello, Matthews. Well, what's your guess? He started on purpose. Oh, suicides hardly ever burned themselves to death. No, no. He probably took some sleeping pills or poison and then a cigarette left going. Did this, you know. Hey, by the way, Phil, you saw Connie tonight. You think you might recognize. Yeah, he's over there. There isn't much. Oh. See you, Casey. Right, Matthews. Hey, Garcia. Hey, you tied Connie and this fire together kind of fast, didn't you? Lieutenant, I just found out about this place. Yeah, but you work alone, Marlow. I got help. Oh, there it is. All that's left. See anything? Yeah, that ring. I noticed it earlier today. And the watch? I'm not sure. I don't remember what kind of. Hey, Matthew. What is it? What are you staring at? Come on over here. Come on. See this little piece of metal? Yeah. I think it's. You know, fire makes things hot. Yeah? Yeah, hot things burn and. Marlowe, what is it? It's an idea. Yeah? Like what? Like this isn't suicide after all. Like it's murder. Matthews. Come on, we gotta get to our phone, quick. Los Angeles International Airport, Central dispatcher's office. Look, miss, this is important. I'm calling for Detective Lieutenant Matthews at police headquarters. What passenger flights have left in the last half hour? Passenger flights? Yeah. Well, there have been two, sir. One to Dallas, Texas, the other to Chicago, Both American Airlines. Nothing out of the country. Wait a minute, Matthew. However, there is flight scheduled to leave at 10:10. That's just five minutes from now that's going to Manila. Mercury Airways. Shall I connect you? Yeah, Hurry, will you, please? Hey, Matthews, this may be it. I'm glad for you. Mercury Airways, central dispatcher's office. Mercury, There's a call from the police here for you. Go ahead, Sir. Look, your 10:10 flight from Manila, is it going out on schedule? Yes, sir. The plane's standing by for the tower signal now. Oh, then tell me this, Is there a passenger aboard named Bert Larson? Hurry, will you? This Lawson killed Lester Connie, then he. Will you hold it, Matthews. Yes, sir. We have a Bert Larson aboard. Oh, good. Keep him there and don't let that plane get up in the air, do you hear? The man's wanted for murder, but don't do anything else either. Just let him sit and wait for us. You got that? Yes, sir, I understand. Fine. We'll be there as soon as we can. Goodbye. Come on, Matthews. It's your show from here on in, sirens included. Okay, Marlow. Okay, enough. So we're on our way to the airport. We're gonna catch her kill. Everything is great, but first, how do things add up? Mooney, take it easy. Five seconds more or less, never yet turn the trick. Okay, Lieutenant. Were you saying something, Matthews? Yeah, yeah. I'm saying I don't know which end is up. Phil. Look, Lester, Connie killed his wife, right? Right. Why? Because he wanted her out of the way so that he and a cheap little monster named Carole King can live happily ever after. Oh, divorce wouldn't do that for him, huh? No, Moody. No, I don't think so. Probably because Giulia Carney had a real tight grip on the purse strings. Oh, maybe something more like. It's not very nice pass for a guess. Yeah, yeah, but the purse strings the money. That's where Bert Lawson figures in, huh? A bookie with a claim. No, no, blackmail. Now, I figure Bert Lawson knew about Connie and Carole King. He must have stopped by once to pick up or pay off a bet at the right time. Yeah, and from there, what? And from there, the team of Carol and Lester kill Lester's wife. Yeah, which we've covered, but not in detail. Now listen, you see, after the murder, Lester planned to kill himself. Yeah, or at least make it look like that. Yeah, a suicide note. The Mulholland studio burned down. The works. Yeah, yeah, and the body we found, that's an added attraction. Bert Lawson included in the last minute. What, the wife? And then the black bailer getting it. Drugged while drinking at Carroll's, where he thought that he was going to get paid off in money. Then up to Mulholland Drive, ring, watch and flames at it. Oh, and then out here at the airport, headed for Manila. Lester Kearney. Uh huh. Hey, Mooney, we're getting close. You better kill a siren. Okay, Marlon. Now Phil, how do you know all this? I mean, the switch, you know, what makes it so. That piece of metal I burned my fingers on, Matthews, it was a tap from a shoe. And Burt Larson wore taps. The rest of it adds from there. Yeah, including Connie at the airport. Now, as Larson, sure, who'd be looking for a beat up, second rate bookie who decided to leave town? Aside from a nephew, that is. Yeah, aside from a nephew. Tried every place but the airport. Uncle Bert couldn't stand planes. The brakes, Matthews. Oh, here we are. Yeah, just you and me and Mooney. And a killer. Aren't you coming, Phil? No, I think I'll wait here, Matthews. I got some thinking to do. About the scum you sometimes meet in the night? No, not the kind of a kid I almost never meet in the night. See it? Yeah. All right. Come on, Mooney. Maybe our boy will make a break for it. I hope Lester Carney didn't make a break for it. And hour later, when they picked up Carole King, it was the same thing. Each of them was surly, ugly, but they talked. So when I finally left police headquarters, where try as he would for Tommy's sake, Matthews had found it impossible to skip over Burt Larson's connection as a blackmailer. It was pushing midnight and I was dog tired. I was something worse than that. When I was back on the corner near my office, walking toward Tommy Larson, who was untying a stack of fresh news papers. Then the headline read all about it. Hollywood Killer Nab blackmailing Bookie Jealous Wife slain. Hiya, kid. Hiya, Mr. Marlow. Lieutenant Matthews tells me you had kind of a rough night. Kinda. When'd you talk to him, Tommy? After the first editions hit the street. I wanted to know if you were okay. The story didn't say pub publicity. No. Good for your business, huh? Not much. Look, kid, did the lieutenant say anything? About you, I mean. Oh, I'm gonna stay with a neighbor, a friend of Uncle Burt's. He had friends. You know, he wasn't really bad at heart, Mr. Marlowe. Not really. I. I believe that. So do I, Tommy. He was just mixed up. Yeah, sure he was. You know why? The way he thought the world owed him a living. That's why. And I couldn't tell him otherwise. He. Excuse me, Mr. Marlow. I. I gotta get going. Thanks a lot. You were swell. Sure. X. Extra. Extra. Bookie and Babe slain in Hollywood Triangle 2 dead in Hollywood Slaying. Extra. Extra. Extra. There's nothing more pathetic than a kid the first time he's really slapped down by life. We, the older ones, the tired ones, learn to roll with a punch because we've got time in our corner, watching us, counseling us, teaching us how to save ourselves so that the final gong, we're still on our feet. But a kid, a kid steps into life's arena, expecting to find his opponents all he was taught to believe they would be. But instead he finds the old one too, below the belt. But if here he finds a good guy and there a great girl, the going suddenly becomes not so rough. The fight becomes worth it, if only to help the next generation of tommies find their ring a little cleaner and the brakes not quite so tough. The adventures of Philip Marlow. Bringing you Raymond Chandler's most famous character, star Gerald Moore and are produced and directed by Norman McDonald. Script is by Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Featured in the cast were Gil Stratton Jr. Virginia Gregg Wilms Herbert, Joan Banks and Vivie Janis. Detective Lieutenant Matthews is played by Larry Dubkin. The special music is composed and conducted by Richard Orant. Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlow says. It started with laughter on a bright morning in a battle over a chicken and got better as it went along. It could have lasted a lifetime, but it didn't. It stopped on a gray morning with a little wishbone broken. Stay tuned now for Gangbusters, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. This is Roy Rowan speaking. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System from Hollywood. It's time now For Johnny Dollar. Ben Gartley. Johnny Amercon, Northern Trust. Oh, hiya, Ben. What do you hear from Wall Street? Save your money. What money? Money I'm going to pay you for this case. I've got a crazy one, Johnny. So naturally you thought of me. Nothing personal. Look, it's. It's a trust setup. Cumulative endowment. Insurance rider, big deal. Over a quarter million bucks. Maybe half a million from home. To whom? From a Mrs. Ezra Gramley, widow to her granddaughter, Susan. So Mrs. Gramley owns the Flint Rock Ranch in Nevada. Never heard of it. Our representative out there is Jonas Parks. He's the president of the Flint Rock First National Bank. Never heard of him. It's a whistle stop about 20 miles from Las Vegas that I've heard of. Parks started the deal rolling and then he got cold feet. Now he's yelling for help. Thinks the old lady may be crazy. I mean, literally. And there does seem to be a reasonable doubt. Unless Parks himself is crazy. Well, that's also a possibility, Johnny. 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. From Special investigator Johnny Dollar to the home office, amicon Northern Trust Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the matter of reasonable doubt. Item 1, $154.40. Transportation and Incidentals. Hartford to Las Vegas, Nevada, where I checked into a hotel and then phoned the local office of a national business and credit rating bureau that my client retained on a permanent consulting basis. I asked for a rundown on Jonas Parks and got it. An A1 set of references. Parks had been a resident of Nevada for 32 years and President of the Flint Rock bank for 17. He was regarded locally as a cautious investor, a prudent financial advisor, scrupulously honest and as sound as a dollar. A silver dollar. Crazy? Hardly. Item 2, $32.50 deposit in first day's rental on a drive it yourself hired car mileage, Las Vegas to Flint Rock. 23.6 itemized building appraisal. Flint Rock. Three bar casinos, all needing paint. One restaurant, one general store, barbershop garage, welding shop, railroad depot, also needing paint. Four dwellings and of course, one bank. Jonas Parks, president. What can I do for you, young fellow? Well, my name is Dollar, Mr. Parks. Johnny Dollar. I'm a special investigator for Amercon. And I'm here in regard to the Gramley Trust case. Oh, yes. Well, I'm mighty glad to know you, Mr. Dollar. And I don't mind telling you, I'm glad you got here. Oh, here, pull up a chair. Okay. Sit down. It's been a real odd day. Funny looking clouds hanging off there toward the river. Yeah, I noticed them driving out from town. Storm clouds, that's what they are. This time of year. Son, in this neck of the woods, it can happen any time of the year. Cloud bursts come up just like that. And they're over just as fast. That's very interesting. You're a hypocrite, young fellow. What makes you think so? You didn't come clear across the country to hear a dissertation on Desert Storm. So stop sitting there trying to pretend you're interested. Whatever you say, Mr. Parks. Matter of fact, you weren't even half listening to me. No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't. Well, what were you doing then? Looking you over, sizing you up. Come to any conclusions? A couple. Such as? Well, in the first place, I'm inclined to discard the theory that you're crazy. That what they told you in Hartford? Well, they figure one of you is either you or Mrs. Greamley. They do, eh? And what is your second conclusion? That you were sitting there sizing me up. You're right. I was. Come to any conclusions, Mr. Parks? Yeah, one. Such as? That we'll probably get along together all right, you and me. Good. Good. Then suppose we get down the Gramley case. No wonder they thought what they did. Maybe they're right. Maybe we are crazy, both of us. Well, as I understand it, Mrs. Gramley wanted to set up some kind of insured trust for her granddaughter. You started the proceedings for her and then stopped cold and called for help. Yes, that's about what happened. Why? Was she financially unable to carry out the. Of course she's able. I wouldn't need any outside help if that was the problem. She's been banking with me for mighty near 20 years. Then is she mentally incompetent? Sarah Grimley is as sane as his Bell. At least I've always figured she was. But confounded Mr. Dollar, there's something wrong out at that ranch. Oh? What do you mean? I don't know what I mean. Well, if you don't. I mean, it's mostly things you can't put your finger on. Little things that add up finally. Add up to what? I don't know. It's just a feeling. Kind of a. A hunch. Is that what you mean? Yes, if you want to put it that way. So I brought you clear out here from Hartford on a hunch. Go ahead, say it. Relax, Mr. Parks. Relax. I've had hunches of my own, and sometimes the horse is one. But I don't even know why I think something is wrong. All right. What's the setup out there at the ranch? What's the background? Mrs. Gramley is a widow. Her husband died about 14 years ago, and she stayed on afterward and ran the ranch. Of course, her son Ed and his wife were there with her until three years ago and done most of the work. And they moved out. Three years ago? No. They were killed in an automobile accident. This girl Susan, that Mrs. Grimley wanted to set up the trust for is their daughter. She's going on 17 now. Then the two of them live there alone? No. No, there's another couple. Walter Gramley and his wife Hilda. Walter's Mrs. Grimley's nephew. Sort of manages the ranch. Does a pretty good job of it, too. Mm. Then that's the whole family. Mrs. Gramley, her nephew Walter and his wife, and her granddaughter Susan. That's the family, for better or worse. Mr. Parks, do you even have any idea as to what might be wrong? Not the slightest. You're on your own, son. How did this trust business start? How did it come about? Ms. Gramley came into town one day about two months ago and sprung it on me out of a blue sky. First time she'd been in town nearly a year. Did she say why she wanted to set up the trust? No. She said it was nobody's business but her own. She's changed a lot in the last year. She's not herself anymore. And the trust was intended in its entirety for her granddaughter Susan. That's right. Within the next three years, she wanted the whole estate transferred to the girl. Did Susan know about it? According to Mrs. Gramley, nobody knew about it, and she didn't want anybody to know. All right. Then you started the ball rolling, and then you stopped it. Her nephew Walter came in to see me last week. He knew something was up, and there was no use trying to lie to him. When I told him what she was doing, he said that she would never go through with it. So I went out to the ranch to see her. Laid all the cards on the table. I told her what Walter had said was a reaction. She said maybe he was right. Maybe she wouldn't go through with it. Then she started rambling, not even making sense, talking about the auto accident and her son's death. But before I left, she told me again that I should keep pushing the trust, get it set up so you Call for help. I called for help. Well, I guess I'd better go talk to the lady. That's not going to be so easy. Why not? Walter won't let a stranger on the place. You mean he's holding her captive? No. No, I think he believes she's losing her mind. He's trying to keep it quiet. Now, what do you believe, Mr. Parks? I don't know. Well, maybe we can find out. I hope so. Just one thing, though. Be careful. Of what? I don't know. Jonas Parks had one other suggestion. That I pretend to be a special investigator for the Cattlemen's Association. I agreed to try it. Four miles from Flint Rock, the narrow ranch road left the plateau and began climbing up through the broken bluff country. A mile and a half from the ranch house, I pulled out the choke, flooded the engine and let the car cough to a stop. The old out of gas Gimmick. And about 10 minutes later, I was wishing I thought of some other plan. When park said cloudburst, he wasn't exaggerating. The rain came down in sheets. In 60 seconds, I was soaked through, and in another two minutes, the dry ground was a muddy bog. I kept on walking, or trying to walk, and the footing got worse. By then I'd had it, or at least I thought I had. I hit the mud, rolled into a pile of boulders and pulled my gun. A man was riding slowly toward me on a horse, holding a rifle over his arm. I edged down between the rocks, took a sight on him and waited. He dismounted, walked toward me, carrying the rifle carelessly. Apparently, he thought he dropped me. I let him get within 12ft. All right, hold it. Drop that rifle. Get your hands up. I said drop it. What's the idea? Well, that's a good question, only I'm the one to ask it. They're trespassing. We've been losing cattle. So I've heard you. What do you mean, you've heard? I'm an investigator for the Cattleman's Association. Are you Walter Greenlee? Yeah, that's right. What do you expect to find sneaking in here on foot this way? Not what I did find, at least. Look, I've got a car back there on the road. I ran out of gas. I understand the owner of the Flint rock is a Mrs. Ezra Greenlee. She's my aunt. Well, I'd like to see her. I'm afraid that's impossible. Why? What's your name? Dollar. Johnny dollar. Mr. Dollar. Go back to your car and wait. I'll send some gasoline from the house. Huh? When you get it, turn that car around and get off the property. You're working for me. You know I'm a member of the association. And you know as well as I do that you've got no more authority than any other private individual. So get out and stay out. And if I don't? Well, then you're a trespasser and I won't miss twice. The next time I'll kill you. Is that clear? It was clear. Perfectly clear. And at this point, I wasn't ready to force the issue. So I conducted an orderly strategic withdrawal. And short I went back to the car. The rain stopped before I reached it. And a few minutes later a station wagon came lumbering down the road from the ranch and braked to a stop a few yards away. The girl who came toward me carrying a five gallon gasoline can was a living little dollar. A daffodil as perky and bright as a brand new penny. Hello there. Hi. I'm Susan gramley. And you're Mr. Dollar. And you're out of gas. And I've got some for you. Well, here. That's pretty heavy. Let me take that. No, just stand back and avoid the splash. I'm an old hand at this. In fact, I'm a chronic empty tanker myself, and I. What's the matter? Out of gas, are you? Big deal, huh? That tank is almost full. Yeah, well, there's no use lying to you, I suppose. Nope. I'm too smart. I see. Another thing. You're not with the Cattlemen's Association, Mr. Dollar. I'm not? Nope. I think you're here to dig up the past because of what has happened and what might be going to happen. All of that, huh? Yep. And you know what? I think it's just fine and dandy. You do? You bet I do. I loved my dad. I loved him more than anything. They knew what he always did when he got mad. Sure, they knew. I figured it out a long time ago. Like to tell me about it, Susan? You'll find out, Mr. Dollar. I think you're the kind of a man who smashes into things right into the middle and breaks them wide open. Be careful, though. Oh, because you know something. You're smashing into a bomb. Now here's our star to tell you about tomorrow's intriguing episode of this week's story. Tomorrow, the dead past speaks in a musty morgue. Or tries to. And a living lady gets cozy. Or tries to really tries to. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by Les Crutchfield, it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station, for the next exciting episode of Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny dollar. Jonas Parks. Mr. Dollar. The Flint Rock Bank. Yeah, I know. The man who warned me. How's that? You said it would be tough to get into the Gramley ranch. Well, I got rained on, shot at, threatened, outsmarted by a 16 year old girl. And I still didn't see Mrs. Gramley. You aiming to give up for tonight? Yes. I'm busy trying to dry out my bones over the heat from a triple brandy. Well, I'm going out to see Mrs. Gramley in the morning. I'll try to fix something up. Yeah, do that, will you? And something else, Mr. Parks. That auto accident three years ago when Susan's parents were killed. What about it, Mr. Dollar? You know what about it. The dead past is always with us. You go see Will Connors there in Las Vegas. He runs the Ford County Weekly Tribune. Tell him I sent you. And be careful. Once again, Mr. Parks, careful of what? I still don't know. 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. From special investigator Johnny Dollar. Location, Las Vegas, Nevada to the home office, American Northern Trust Company, Hartford, Connecticut. Assignment, the matter of reasonable doubt. Expense account continued item four. Seven dollars and a quarter. A triple wasn't enough, so I bought the whole bottle and took it up to my room. I was bushed, and not just from being caught out in a desert cloud. Burst. Mrs. Greamley, elderly widow, owner of the Flint Rock Ranch, wanted to set up an insurance trust and convey all her holdings over to her 16 year old granddaughter Susan. Her only other heirs were her nephew Walter, who managed the ranch, and his wife, Hilda. Jason Parks, my client's local representative and respected president of the Flint Rock bank, had started proceedings, then got cold feet and dropped them. Why? He didn't know. Just a hunch. Something was wrong. He'd called for help. And I was that help. Total results so far, zero. I put the cork in the brandy bottle and went to bed. I'll be with you in a minute, John Pillow. I'll hurry. The Weekly Tribune like a thousand other Weekly Tribunes across the country. Not competing with the big dailies, not even trying to. Printing the little things. Homey things, and hanging on one man, office editor, publisher Reporter, proofreader, and at the moment, linotype operator. A guess, of course, but the man at the Linotype looked as though his name just had to be Will Connors. My name is Will Connors. What can I do for you? I'm Johnny Dollar, Mr. Connors. Jonas Parks out at Flint Rock suggested. Oh, yeah. Jonas called me this morning. Said you'd probably be in. Glad to know you. Thanks. Same here. He said you'd most likely be asking all sorts of crazy questions. And I was to. Well, humor me, or you might put it that way. Said I was to answer them if I could. Did Mr. Parks tell you who I am? Nope. Didn't ask him. Jonas and me been friends for 20 years. And if he says you're all right, then that's good enough for me. Well, thanks to both of you. Just one thing, though, Mr. Dollar. There going to be a story in this? Maybe. Any chance giving me a scoop on it? Scoop? I haven't heard that word in years. I ain't had one in years. In fact, I ain't never had one. Always have to get my front page stories by reading these here Las Vegas dailies. Yeah. Bunch of smart alecks getting telegraphs from Moscow and Paris and France and all them places. Anybody can get scoops that way, but me, I got to get out and scratch for what I print. Well, I'll. Oh, it'd sure do me good to put one over on them dudes. I'd get me out an extra, a big banner headline on it. Got the type for it, too. Never been used. Exclusive right across the top. It'd knock them back on their byline. All right, Mr. Connors. All right. If there is a story, you get it. That's a promise. A scoop. A living, breathing scoop. Dog gone. Yeah. Now, about the question. Yes, sir, young fellow, what do you want to know? Anything you can tell me about Mrs. Gramley and the Flint Rock Ranch. Mrs. Gramley? Well, now, there is a woman for you, son. They don't make that kind these days. Noticed any change in her lately? Well, I wouldn't want this to go any farther. I understand. And I guess it depends on what you mean by lately. I ain't seen her but twice in the last year. They don't allow no visitors out there anymore. So I found out yesterday your nephew took a shot at me with a rifle. You don't say. My, they are getting. Do you know of any reason for him acting that way? Yeah. There's something funny going on out that ranch. What, for instance? Couldn't say. But like I was telling you, I've only seen her twice, and she was different somehow. It was like she was, well, breaking up. Sort of. Scared of something, maybe, I don't know. Have a nephew, by any chance? Walter? Well, I'd say he acts about as scared as she does. Or as upset, at least. Maybe they're both scared of something. What about the granddaughter, Susan? Is she scared, too? Not that one. Oh, she's strange enough all right, but the old Nick himself wouldn't scare her none. What do you mean, she's strange enough? You met her, Mr. Dollar, for about three minutes yesterday afternoon. That's long enough. How'd she strike you? One of the most honest kids I've ever met. Or else the cleverest. Yeah, that's about the size of it. Which do you think? Beats me. I've known her since the day she was born. Yes, it's quite a family. Including that fancy wife of Walter's. Hilda. What about her? Well, let's just say she's too much for him. You follow me, son? Yeah, I think so. They're all worried. They're on edge, either about the same thing or different things. They're pushed, they're driven. You, you can feel it. There's a pressure out there, and anything can happen. Maybe it already has. Hmm? Maybe it happened three years ago. What do you mean? There was an auto accident three years ago, and Mrs. Greenlee's son and his wife Susan's parents, they were killed in it. Well, I've got the morgue files here. I wrote it up pretty complete when it happened. Yeah, I'll want to look through those files later, but right now, you want the story behind the story, if there is one. Well, if there is, I don't know it. I think you would. And if anybody would, being a newsman, far as I know, just an accident. How did happen? Well, it was on the road to the ranch up there where it winds through the bluffs. It was rain, pitch black. There'd been an argument back at the house. Well, they had a lot of arguments, I guess. But anyway, Hilda got mad and left. Took her car and headed for town. And a while afterward, Ed had all he could take and he run out, too, and jumped in his car. Susan tells me that was a habit of her father's whenever he lost his temper in an argument. Yeah, he'd always get in his car and drive like a demon till he got over it. She also made a kind of a strange remark. She said they knew about it. Now, what do you mean by That. I guess you'll have to ask Susan what she meant. All right. So Ed jumped in his car that night and Mary went with him. Trying to calm him down, I guess. So he come around that curve. He must have been doing 60, skidding, half out of control. And there was Hilda's car parked on the curve, right square in his headlights. Just smashed right into it at full speed. Both cars rolled over the bank, caught fire and burned up. Him and Mary were dead before the car stopped. How did Hilda get out of it? She wasn't there. He had a flat, left her car parked and started back on foot. I see. He was lucky, that's all. She sure was, Mr. Connors. Real lucky. I took a backfile at the Tribune into the outer office and went over the news stories on the deaths of Ed Greenlee and his wife. I found nothing that Will Connors hadn't already told me. Shocking loss, fine people, sudden accidents. I kept hanging up on that word accident. I kept wanting to put a question mark after I was so absorbed, I didn't even notice her come in until she spoke to me. Hello, Mr. Darling. Well, well. Are you following me, Susan? Nope. Got some copy for Mr. Connors. I write articles for him sometimes, you know. Clever kid and all that, sort of. Hmm. I see you took me seriously. How do you figure? You didn't close that paper fast enough. Now, why would an investigator from the Cattlemen's association be interested in an auto accident three years back? Suppose you tell me. Because you are not an investigator for the Cattlemen's association. Who are you, Mr. Dollar? I've got half an ocean to level with you, Susan. Then I'll go the other half by leveling with you. Aunt Hilda called the association office in Reno this morning. They said they never heard of you. Imagine that. Mr. Parks was out at the ranch just before I left. She asked him about you, too. He said he'd never seen or heard of you. I see. He was lying, though. I can always tell when people are lying. And they know it, too. That's why they're uncomfortable around me. Yeah, I know what you mean. Hey, Look, Susan, did Mr. Parks talk to your grandmother? No. He was supposed to arrange for me to see her about the accident. Maybe. I'm not sure yet. I'm shooting in the dark. Well, it's time somebody did. Where are you staying, Mr. Dollar? At the Common Manor. Okay, I'll get it set up and call you there later. Get it set up? Sure. Fix things so that you can get in to see my grandmother. That's what you wanted, doesn't it? Well, all right. I went back to my hotel room and settled down to wait. If a 16 year old kid could manage what a bank president couldn't than me for the Juvenile League. What happened a couple of hours later though, wasn't exactly juvenile. Come in. Hello. Wow. Are you busy, Mr. Dallas? Not too busy. Come in. Thanks. I don't believe. I imagine you've heard of me during your cattle investigation. Well, somehow you don't seem to fit with cattle. A compliment. Observation. What do I fit with? I don't know yet, Mrs. Grimley. Hilda. Now I'm beginning to know. Cigarette? Thanks, I'll stick with my own brand. It usually works out better that way. Thanks. Nice cigarette case. Gift. I'm always getting gifts. Including a wedding ring. Oh, I've got one. It's around someplace. Just so you don't forget where you left it. I couldn't if I wanted to. You wouldn't have a drink for a lady, would you? Brandy. I love brandy. And gifts. And a lot of other things. Like money. Oh, money's real nice. It's next to the best. And what's the best? Excitement. I see. Don't you think it's best? Well, it depends. At least you're in the right spot for it. I hope so. Look, I haven't got any money and I never give gifts. You've got brandy though. Pour us a drink, Johnny, and then we'll talk. What about excitement? Now here's our star to tell you about tomorrow's intriguing episode of this week's story. Tomorrow, a worried old lady shows her medal, A gambler shows his hand and the game gets tense, tight and a little bit frightening. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by Les Crutchfield, it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station, for the next exciting episode of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. This is Susan Gramley, Mr. Dollar. Oh, yes. How are you, Mr. Wilson? Mr. Wilk. There's somebody there with you. Yes, that's entirely correct. Well, just listen then. It's all fixed. Mr. Dollar. Grandmother is expecting you. She'll be alone for the next few hours, so come on out to the ranch. You're certain of that statement, I suppose? Yes, of course. Uncle Walter went into Vegas and Aunt Hilda's gone somewhere too. Yes, I'm quite aware of that. You mean she's there with you? That's right. Oh, Mr. Dollar. You men are all alike, aren't you? That's quite a remark for a person your age, Mr. Wilson. Oh, I'm quite mature for 16. Has she made her pitch yet? I think we'd better postpone this discussion until the next time we meet. Well, she always does, you know. She's a regular vampire. I figure Uncle Walter's gonna kill her someday. Mr. Wilson. Yes, sir. Goodbye. 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, Tooley Johnny Dollar. From special investigator Johnny Dollar. Location, Las Vegas, Nevada, to the home office, Amarcon, Northern Trust Company, Hartford, Connecticut. Assignment. The matter of reasonable doubt. Expense account continued item 9. A half a buck tip to the hotel bell captain to call a taxi for Hilda Grimley and to wave goodbye to her as she drove away. I do not include the six brandy she guzzled. Those are on me, of course. She had knocked on my door uninvited, so that made it her party. But still, it was my room, so that made her my guest, so forget it. The whole thing left me too confused to itemize it. She'd obviously come on a fishing expedition. The fish, information, bait, the usual but nicely designed results. None on either side. What had started out as a trust case had turned into a snipe hunt. I was in over my head, floundering, and I needed some good, buoyant answers. I was hoping Mrs. Grainley herself could supply a few of them. I'm very glad to meet you, Mr. Dollar. Sit down. She wasn't young and she wasn't beautiful anymore but she had been once. She still had some of that assurance and authority that beauty always gives a woman. She seemed a little uncertain, a little harried maybe, but underneath it, just as tough as an old field boot. I think you'd better leave us alone now, Susan. Okay, Gran. If she starts using her brass knucks, Give a whistle, Mr. Dollar. I'll rush in and save you. Thanks. I'll remember. Oh, she's a brash little flivity gibbet and you love the dickens out of her, don't you? Love? Yes, I do love the dickens out of her, Mr. Dollar. Is that what you came out here to find out? No, I knew that already. Otherwise you wouldn't have wanted to transfer all your holdings to her. How did you know about that? Just who the devil are you, anyway? Seems to me Susan was pretty vague on that score. She had to be. She doesn't know. Then why did she think I ought to see you? Oh, she decided I looked, honestly. Claims she's got a knack for that sort of thing. As a matter of fact, she has. And also she loved her father and mother. What do you mean by that? Mrs. Greenlee, I'm here because your friend Jonas Parks of the Flint Rock bank sent for me. What? I'm a special investigator for the Amicron Northern Trust Company of Hartford, Connecticut. Why? Jonas didn't say anything to me. He hasn't had a chance. He intended to when he was here this afternoon, but you were too ill to see him. Ill? I didn't even know he was here. Your nephew and his wife did. He talked to them. Tell me, Mr. Dollar, just why did Jonas send for you? Because he thought you might be losing your mind. Oh, he did, did he? Are you? Well, if you thought so, you wouldn't have said it so bluntly, right? I don't think so. Well, what made Jonas think it? You asked him to set up an insurance trust for the benefit of your granddaughter, Susan. Apparently, the intent was to convey your entire estate to her over a period of two to three years. What's so crazy about that? Nothing at all, so far as that part of it was concerned. But it didn't stop there. After he got the proceedings started, you turned skittish on him, started to flutter. Well, Jonas is a fool. He is not a fool and you know it. He's been your friend for 20 years. He's completely trustworthy, conscientious, and he has your best interests at heart. How much is he paying you to say things like that? Nobody is paying me but the Amicon Trust Company. And furthermore, you know it. All you're doing is trying to dodge the issue. Young man, I'm not accustomed to being talked to this way. Then you're going to look at it as a refreshingly novel experience. You sound like Susan. And an experience you don't entirely dislike. Presumptuous whelp, maybe. Are you married, Mr. Dollar? No. What a pity I'm not 30 years younger. What a pity I'm not thirty years older. Oh, thank you, sir. Now, let's stop scratching each other's backs and get to the point. All right. Jonas is a fine man. No doubt he did have reason to get upset. These past months have been. Well, I suppose I haven't seemed like myself at all. Why is that? Oh, you're like a bulldog with a bone, Mr. Dollar. Careful how you talk about your might have been lover. What has been Wrong. These past months. Maybe I am losing my mind because actually, nothing has been wrong. I don't agree. I think something is wrong right now. Then why don't you tell me about it? All right. All right, I will. Currently, I'll have to, if we ever expect to get anywhere. All right. Some months ago, you stopped going into town, stopped having visitors. Then you decided to get rid of your estate, turn it over to Susan. When your nephew Walter heard about it, he implied to Jonas Parks that you were losing your mind. Then you yourself started to back down on the idea. Why? Was Walter putting pressure on you? Not exactly. What were you scared of, Mrs. Grimley? It's got something to do with Walter and Hilda. Right? Sit down. Almost a year ago, I discovered that the two of them were stealing. Me blind, tampering with the ranch accounts, forging signatures, all sorts of ways. Why didn't you take it to Jonas or to the police? Because I didn't believe it at first. By the time I was absolutely sure, they'd cut the ground out from under me. So you tried to convey the property to Susan secretly. Yes. Until Walter learned what I was doing. Who's the push in that pair? Who's got the brain? Why, she has. Walter doesn't even have the gumption to get in out of the rain on his own. Then she must have been the one who planned the auto accident. And he went along with it, of course. What auto accident? Three years ago. When your son and his wife were killed on the road. Oh, I'm. I'm sorry, Mrs. Grimley. I. I supposed you'd already guessed it. Guessed what? That it was probably murder. An old lady, tired and lost, seeing herself surrounded by enemies, living in fear. But she at least knew one thing. That she wasn't alone. Now that somebody else believed her and was on her side. Don't Worry about her, Mr. Dollar. She'll be all right. Well, she had quite a shock, Susan. She had to know sometime. Oh, it's not a matter of. No, exactly. It's. It's only suspicion. All right. You go to your church and I'll go to mine. But I know Walter and Hilda murder my parents. And I think you know it, too. Call it a real strong suspicion, then. So what are you going to do about it? What do you suggest I do about it? Advise my elders. I'm only a helpless young female. You're about as helpless as a mongoose with a cobra. Flattery. Just a statement of fact. Say, look, what do you think they've been doing with the Money they've cheated your grandmother out of. Oh, that's easy. Uncle Walter gambles and gambles and gambles and loses and loses. Uh huh. He's not real bright, you know. Why does he do this? Different joints in Vegas? Oh, just one. Mostly a club called the Lead Balloon. And the name? Figures. Any special reason he hits that particular club? I think it's the only one that'll take his IOUs. The owner came out here to collect a couple of times. Happen to know his name? Sure. I got big ears. His name is Deuce McCoy. Deuce McCoy. The lead balloon and the rest of the doe Hilda. She's what's known as a luxury dame, Mr. Dollar. Yeah, so I gathered. I'll bet you gathered. Oh, relax. Wait. I'll send you out of the room. Yes, sir. Does she run around with other men? Oh, Mr. Doll. All right then. Do you happen to know any of them? Nope. I've managed not to. But it hasn't been easy. One or two. Or does she play the field? I wouldn't know. But she's always getting gifts from somebody. Oh, she's a real cool operator. But of course you know that. Since you've been one of her victims. How would you like to get spanked? I don't know. I've never been. But I can quote you all kinds of psychology about it. Take for instance. Never mind. Good night. Yeah. Your name McCoy. Deuce McCoy? Yeah, that's right. Johnny Dollar. I'd like to talk to you about a mutual acquaintance. What mutual acquaintance? Walter Greamley. He's across the room there at the moment bucking one of your craft tables. Come on in, darling. Thanks. All right. Now what about Gramley? How much is he into you? Nobody gets into me. You've been taking his IOUs, haven't you? He buys them off holding any. Now look, what's the pitch? What racket are you in? Insurance. What's that got to do with Grameling? I don't think he's a very good risk. Meaning? He's probably going to be doing time for embezzlement before long. So why are you telling me about this? Well, I thought you might be interested since you've been taking his IOUs. Oh, big hearted, is that it? You're just being neighborly? You might put it that way. I might not. Now what is your angle? Is Gremley a personal friend of yours? No more than any other sucker out there at the table. Then you wouldn't know where he gets the money he loses. Now that I Never ask. And I don't suppose you'd know his wife. Oh, he's married, is he? Her name is Hilda. She likes gifts and brandy and money and excitement. Then I hope she manages to find him, whoever she is. Oh, she does. One way or another. We all got our problems, darling. Yeah, but some of us more than the others. Right, McCoy, you through speaking your piece now? Not another word to say. Well, then, I don't want to rush you, but. Hey, that's a nice cigarette case. Platinum, isn't it? I wouldn't know. It's not yours. Somebody left it at the table. Somebody, huh? Then you don't know who it belongs to. If I did, I'd give it back. Then I'll save you some trouble, Mr. McCoy. I do know who it belongs to. What makes you think so? Because I saw it earlier today. It belongs to Hilda Greemley. Now here's our star to tell you about tomorrow's intriguing episode of this week's story. Tomorrow, the pressure hits the top and the whole mess starts crack. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by Les Crutchfield, it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station, for the next exciting episode of Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny Dollar. You're there. Sure, I'm here. What? I. I mean, it's your hotel. Is this Susan? That's right. Why aren't you out there, Mr. Dollar? Out where? On the old boulder, cut off. If I'm supposed to meet you there in 15 minutes, you're gonna have. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What the devil is this all about? Where'd you get any idea? I was supposed to meet you. From your friend. What? Sure. He phoned here a few minutes ago. He said I should slip away from the ranch, take the station wagon and meet you over on the old road right away. I just phoned your hotel on the. I don't imagine he gave his name. No, and I didn't recognize the voice. Susan, listen. Get away from there right away. Don't go near that road. Come straight here to my hotel. Do you understand? Yes, but. But why? What's it all about? Never mind. Just get here and get here fast while you're still alive. Tonight and every weekday night, Bob Bailey and the trans. Of the man with the action packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. From special investigator Johnny Dollar, location Las Vegas, Nevada. To the homeowner, Samarkon Northern Trust Company, Hartford, Connecticut. Assignment. The matter of reasonable doubt. It was only 9:30pm Less than two hours since I'd thrown my rock into the pool to stir up the fish. I'd expected results, sure, but not this fast and not this deadly. I'd picked a gambling casino owner named Deuce McCoy as my broadcaster. And I'd let him know who I was, why I was here and what I was going to do. Apparently, the news had gone out fast. But I couldn't figure this move. Even with young Susan out of the way, they still couldn't get their hands on her grandmother's estate. It didn't make sense. At least not right then. One thing, though, that I was sure of. If Susan Gramley had driven out that deserted road alone, she'd have never come back. Not alive. Who is it? It's me, Mr. Dollar. All right. Just a second. Well, come on in, Susan. Thanks. I guess it's really. It's I, though I. I mean to be correct. I don't care whether it's I or me, just as long as it's you. Say that again. Oh, skip it. You have any trouble? I missed the green light at Fremont and Fifth. Anybody follow you from the ranch? Nope. Who was there when you left? All of them. Uncle Walder and Hilda had just come in together. Can you beat it? Well, then it wouldn't have been Walter who phoned you. Oh, not him. He's got a kind of a sneaky undertone. I'd have recognized him right away. And you didn't recognize the voice on the phone? No. He didn't say much. Just that he was a friend of yours and you wanted me to meet you right away. So I said okay, and he hung up. I see. Well, maybe you do, but I don't. What did you mean when you said, get here while you're still alive? I wish I knew. Look, Susan, that phone call wasn't just a practical joke. Then you do know. I know somebody was trying to get you out on that desert alone tonight. And they weren't trying it just for laughs. You mean that? I mean the luckiest thing you ever did was to pick up that phone and call this hotel. But why, Mr. Dollar? Why would anybody want that's what I don't know. I don't see what they'd hope to gain by it. They know the trust hasn't been set up yet. Your grandmother's still in control of the property, not you. Look, excuse my ignorance, but I Don't think I know what you're talking about. Well, maybe it's time you did, since you seem to be right in the middle of it. Now, look, your grandmother decided to set up an insurance trust and convey all her holdings over to you. To me? Gran was going to do that. Jonas Parks at the Flint Rock bank started proceedings, then got cold feet. He got the idea there was something screwy behind the whole thing, so he wired Hartford and the trust company. Sent me out here to investigate. But Gran never said a word. She didn't even mention it. She was scared to death. Afraid Walter and Hilda would find out and block her off, have her declared incompetent, get control of the estate and leave you clear out in the cold. She thinks a lot of you, Susan. Gran's the most, isn't she? How did she seem when you left? Back on her feet? Oh, better than she's been in months. More relaxed. I guess she's counting on you, Mr. Dollar. Yeah, well, I wish I could be sure she couldn't. Look, that phone call I got. If Uncle Walder and Hilda weren't behind it, then. Then who was? Oh, I don't know. I'm pretty certain that by now they know who I am and why I'm here. And they know I'm out to get them. I dropped a word a couple of hours ago. I figured they'd react all right, but I didn't expect this move against you. But there has to be somebody else in on it. Mr. Dollar. Neither of them made the phone call. Yeah, I know. But nobody else even knew about the trust. Jonas Parks did, and Will Connors of the Weekly Tribune. But they've been friends of Gran's for years and years. They wouldn't do anything to harm her. I didn't say they would. And they couldn't have had anything to do with the accident that killed my parents. Nobody could have. Except Hilda and Uncle Walter. Unless, of course, it was just an accident. Oh, you know better than that, Mr. Dollar. Oh, I'm beginning to wonder if I actually know very much about any of this. Susan, listen. How scared are you? Oh, I'm not scared at all. I'm just bewildered, I guess. Good. Then you won't be afraid to stay here alone for a while. Of course not. Sounds kind of grown up, in fact. Yeah. Well, all right, then. Don't leave the room. Keep the door locked and don't let anybody in. If someone should try, call the manager and have him call the police. Don't answer the phone unless it rings twice. That'll be me. Got it? Got it. Good. Hey, there are a couple of magazines there on the nightstand. Can I ask you what you're going to do, Mr. Dollar? Sure, you can ask. See you later, Susan. Stink. Evening, young fella. I kind of hoping you'd drop around. Wasn't sure I'd find you here, Mr. Connors, this time of night. The paper comes out tomorrow, Mr. Dollar. Oh, sorry. I didn't know. I always stay around late the night before press day just in case a big story breaks. Sure gotta be here, you know, to break down the front page and remake the galley and all. Them's technical terms, of course. Oh, I see. Yeah, I was kind of hoping you might have a story for me. But now maybe that scoop we was talking about. Nope, not yet. Well, I can hold the present till 9:30am in the morning. But that's the last dog gone final zero. Hour and a minute later come calamity, cataclysm or high water, the Tribune has got to roll. Yeah, sure. Well, maybe you'll have your scoop before 9:30, Mr. Connors. You mean you're working on a clue check? Hot dog. Yep, you said it. You getting close to the new image? That's a technical word. That's when the detective always pounces. Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not about to pounce at the moment, Mr. Connor. Yeah, well, keep your voice down, son. Why? There's nobody else here. You never know on this kind of a case. Well, let's take a chance. All right, I'm game if you are. Good. I've got a couple of questions I'd like to ask you. Shoot. Son, you know anything about a gambler named Deuce McCoy? Owns the lead Balloon Casino over across town. Well, I know who he is, all right. He don't own it, though. He just runs it for a syndicate. Works on a salary. You mean. Salary and percentage. I reckon he ain't getting rich on it, though. Not the way he lets it get away from him. On what? Just two words, son. Women. Hilda Grimly wouldn't be one of them, would she? Well, it's a new one on me if she is. Of course. You live and learn. You sure do. Yeah, it'd be right cozy if something like that was going on. Her husband spends half his time in McCoy's place. Yeah, I know. You figured Deuce McCoy is tied in on this Greemley thing. I don't know. You want to do me a favor, Mr. Connors? Well, just sing it out, young fellow, with this coup. Listen, young Susan, Gramley is in my room over at the hotel. You don't say so well, but never mind. It's a long story. I hate to have her there alone. So how about going over and babysitting for a while? Sure. I'd be glad to. All right. I'll phone her first so she won't lay you out with an ashtray. And I'll keep in touch with you. If there's a story, you'll get it. Meanwhile, clam up. Right. I'll see you later. Yeah. Do you pack a gun, Mr. Dollar? Sometimes. Why? Deuce McCoy does too, all the time. The evening was just starting in the lead balloon with two crab tables already in action, two more standing by and a roulette wheel warming up. No one paid any attention when I walked back through the casino to the office. I waited what I considered a reasonable length of time, then tried the knob. Door was unlocked. Go on, Buster, beat it. The girl was alone in the office, sprawled back on the sofa, drink in her hand. And it was pretty obvious it wasn't her first one, nor her second or third. She'd have been a real knockout sober, smelly. Don't you understand English? I said get out. Where's McCoy? What's it to you? Feeling no pain, huh? Oh, cut it, Buster. Must have been a pretty big pain, though, earlier. If it's taking this much to kill it. Go on and get out of here. Why do you think you ought to talk like that, Johnny Dollar? Who are you? Get away from that desk. If Deuce finds you messing around in here, he'll kill you. Even if I told him I was a close friend of yours? You rat. I'll call one of the boys and get you thrown out of here. Oh, I wouldn't. Might make an awful scandal. And I don't think Deuce would want that, not right at present. What are you talking about? Oh, come now. You're in it too, aren't you? You're. No. You're not with the police. I know Mall. You're FBI. Oh, what makes you say that? Look, if Deuce isn't a jam, I don't know anything about it. What's your name? Nikki. Nikki Vernon. All right, Nikki, sit down and relax. Whoops. Now, where's Deuce McCoy? I think if I knew, I'd be sitting here by myself, lushing it up. I suppose you were McCoy's girl before Hilda Gramley cut you out. Cut me out, nothing. That rotten little sneak's been asking for it, and I'm about ready to give it to her? Is she here this evening? You see any blood on the rug? Just let me catch that dirty little Nicky and sit down with you. Now, what about Walter gry? Was he here? Yeah, earlier. He was here in the office for about an hour. I don't know what they talked about. Deuce made me get out and Deuce left right afterwards. Half an hour or so. He had to wait to make a phone call first. I see. Well, if you're smart, you'll forget him, Nikki. I've got a hunch he's not coming back. Her he's gonna go off with that. He's going off because he's in a jam. That's one thing you were right about. And by now he must know the whole thing is falling apart. I think he'll try to run for it. How to kill that Damon. Why. Why don't you throw away that bottle and forget about him? He's no good, Nikki. You know that, don't you? Sure, I know it. Then why are you beating your heart out over him? You've never been a woman, have you missed a dollar? Now here's our star to tell you about the final intriguing episode of this week's story. Tomorrow I tag the pitch. Too late. And a runner gets home the score one to nothing in favor of death. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by Les Crutchfield, it is produced and directed by Jack Jamstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station, for the next exciting episode of Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking from Hollywood. It's time now for Johnny duller. This is Mrs. Gramley. Mr. Duller. Oh, good. I understand you were trying to reach me. I just told your nephew Walter that if he didn't have you on this phone within three minutes, I'd be out there at the ranch with a posse of police. Oh, I'm afraid There's some mistake, Mr. Dollar. You see, I. I told Walter I didn't wish to talk with you. You what? I admire your persistence, young man, but are you saying this of your own free will? You're not being forced. How ridiculous. Who's there with you? Just my nephew Walter and his wife, Hilda. Sure, I'm coming out there, Mrs. Grimley. Mr. Dollar, you were sent out here from Hartford to investigate an insurance trust. I was arranging for my granddaughter. Well, I've decided not to set up the trust. So there's no further reason to involve yourself in my affairs. Good night, Mr. Dollar. Hello? Hello? What have you got cooking with the Gramleys anyway, Mr. Shut up, Nikki. Let me think. 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. From special investigator Johnny Dollar. Location, Las Vegas, Nevada, to the home office, amicon, Northern Trust Company, Hartford, Connecticut. Assignment, the matter of reasonable doubt. Expense account, final page, item 1275 cents. I had a pint of black coffee sent in for Nikki Vernon, girlfriend of missing casino operator Deuce McCoy. She'd been overworking a bottle of scotch and I figured the coffee would help clear the fumes. And it might have if she'd drunk it. No. Take it away. I don't want any coffee. I couldn't figure that phone call from Mrs. Grimley. She knew her nephew and his wife had been stealing from her. That's why she'd started to set up the trust to save the estate from them and turn it over to a young granddaughter, Susan. And she knew also EP told her that Walter and his wife had probably contrived the auto accident that had killed Susan's parents. And yet now she seemed to have reversed her whole attitude. Maybe Jonas Parks had been right. Maybe there was a reasonable doubt as to her sanity. Maybe a lot of things. But all of the answers were out there at that ranch. She's to blame for it. Things were all right with Deuce and me till she came messing around. If it hadn't been Hilda, it would have been somebody else. A whole lot you know about. Oh, why don't you drink some of that coffee, Nikki? I don't want any coffee. Okay, okay, suit yourself. Go ahead and enjoy your broken heart. Then kill the rest of that bottle if that's what you want. Cry up a storm. Live it up. Wallow in it. I'll get that dame. It's the last thing I ever do. For what? You ought to thank her for getting that rat off your neck. What'd you have to turn him in for? Deuce never did anything to you. He never had the chance. Oh, what's he supposed to have done that's so horrible? It's more what he tried to do. Oh, sure. You happen to know young Susan Grimley. Yeah, I've seen the kid. Why? Well, your lover boy phoned her out at the ranch earlier this evening, disguised as voice. Said he was a friend of mine. He tried to get her to meet him on the old boulder cut off out in the middle of the desert. If you think Deuce would try to date up a 16 year old kid? You're crazy, Nikki. I think he was going to kill a 16 year old kid. It's her fault. Hilda Gramley. She and her sneaky little hen pecked husband got Deuce mixed up in something. I don't imagine he was very hard to mix. That dame's been asking for it for a long time. I know. And you're about ready to give it to her. Well, forget it. Sober up, find the nearest exit and then run like the devil. I want Deuce. So do the police. And they're the ones who are going to get him. They're covering the airport now, the depot, all the highways. Vegas is a tough town to get away from. He hasn't got a chance. It's just as much your husband's fault. Why didn't he keep her at home? Why didn't he? Oh, for the love of. You keep on playing that same old record, you're gonna wear a groove right through your brain. Maybe so. Now look, I got things to do. Are you gonna be all right here alone? Well, I'm just fine. I never felt better in my life. Then you've already got it halfway made. So why don't you double up and get even. Try some of that coffee. You're a real busy guy, Mr. Dollar. You put the finger on a man with one hand and at the same time you try to sober up his girl with the other. Sure, and if I had a broom, I'd sweep the office. Well, then why don't you go be busy someplace else? That's exactly the idea. All right, kid, you're on your own. Good luck, Nikki. Good luck. What do you care what kind of luck I have? Oh, I don't know. I picked up my car and drove out across the desert toward the Flint Rock Ranch. I couldn't quite imagine Mrs. Gramley being intimidated. The idea of Walter and Hilda standing over, holding a gun at her head and making her say things against her will was pretty unbelievable. Faced with a threat like that, she'd probably say, shoot and be blasted. It just didn't make sense. Apparently, she really had reversed her field. But I had to hear it from her, face to face. Who is it? Johnny Dollar. Open up. I said open up. What's the idea? Mrs. Gramley told you to stay away from here, didn't she? I don't know. There was static in the phone. I want to hear her say it again. What do you think you're doing? Coming in. All right, Walter, let's go talk to Mrs. Gramley. Look, $, you haven't got that much weight to throw around. Suppose we get it straight right now and save a lot of time. I came out here to talk to Mrs. Gramley and I'm going to talk to her. Now. If you want to go at it bare knuckle, let's get started. Or if you're thinking of that gun routine again, go ahead and pull it. I'm packing one myself. And if you're not going to make any kind of a move, then you just stand right there with your face hanging out while I go on in and talk. What's going on in here, Walter? Good evening, Mrs. Gramley. Dollar won't take no for an answer. He just forced his way in. I'm glad to find you looking so. I thought I'd made myself clear on the phone, Mr. Dollar. Really. Come on, let's go on into the living room where we can all be more comfortable. Come back here. I must insist that you leave at once. Who was at the door? What are you doing here? Well, if it isn't Hilda, the lovely lady who likes money, gifts and excitement. Fine, fine. That's why I came out. To stir up a little excitement. I think you're taking a good deal upon yourself, Mr. Dollar. You know, I'm a little surprised at you, Mrs. Gramley. I thought you wanted me to follow the case through. There is no case. Oh, since when? You heard what she said. That's what you came for. All right, now beat it. Sit down, Walter. Mrs. Gramley, are you telling me you're going to drop this whole thing? Let this pair here edge you out and Susan along with you and take the whole estate? You can put any interpretation on it you like. Just as long as you leave this house at once. And please don't come back. You have no right to interfere. And what about your son and his wife? Have you forgotten that those two leeches there killed him? You're out of your mind. Am I? What do you think, Mrs. Gramley? Am I out of my mind? I. I'm afraid you are. My son and his wife were killed in an automobile accident. A terrible tragedy, but unavoidable. Sure, it was after Walter and Hilda Here, set it up, will you? Please leave now. Have they threatened you? Is that it? Are you scared to talk? Because if you are, speak up. I imagine I can handle them. You're being quite ridiculous, Mr. Dollar. Will you now go, please? It beats me, it really does. If I hadn't. I'll answer. Hello? Who? If that's for me, you Better let me take it. They know I'm here. All right, take it. Nobody's stopping you. It was Will Connors on the phone. He'd been keeping in close touch with the police. And he was calling to tell me what had happened. Deuce McCoy had been arrested. He'd been picked up at the airport trying to board a plane. And was being taken to the city jail. I hung up the phone and told the three of them what Will had said. That touched off the fuse. Arrest it. Do at the airport. I don't get it. But you will get it, Walter. Deuce will talk. He'll spill the whole thing. And I think we'll be able to make a case against you and hilda. Even without Mrs. Gramley's testimony. Susan? Was she with him? Is she all right? Mrs. Gramley, Susan has been in my hotel room with Will Connors for the last. So that was the hold they had over you. They told me this man Deuce had phoned her and tricked her into meeting him. Susan doesn't trick so easy. She called me and I. Put your hands up. Oh, no. It's a little late for a gun, Walter. You won't find it any easier to run than Deuce did. He's right, Walter. Let me think. There must be some way. Let you think? That's what I've been doing for the last 10 years. And you thought us right into this. Walter, the airport. You know what he was doing? He was running out. The kid didn't show. He knew something had gone wrong. And he was taking a powder and not even telling me. There's no time now. Just here holding the bag. And now you say let me think. Why didn't you think before? It was your idea, cutting him in on this. No. She's got a lot of cute ideas, Nikki. She's a real little brain. What the devil are you doing here? Slumming, Mr. Dollar? The door was open, so I walked in. You mind? Look, whoever you are, watch. Sucker. I've seen guns before. Why didn't you use it on them when they were playing you for their number one Patsy? What are you talking about? Deuce McCoy and that little sneak you're married to. There. You mean you still don't know she's lying, Walter? Don't you wish I was? They had you right in the middle, sucker. Deuce was taking it away from me on the tables. And little Hildy was getting it back from him after hours. I bet they got a lot of laughs out of it. Better hand over that gun, Walter. It's true. Isn't that Hilda? Of course not. Take a gun to him, huh? Well, maybe it's not too late. Walter. What are you going to do? Give me the gun, Walter. Sure, why not? I don't need it now. He killed her. His own wife. Stood right there and shot her down in cold blood. Would you call the police, Mrs. Greenberg? Yeah. Tell them to hurry right out. They can take me in on a real. I didn't mean for her to get killed. You know something, Dollar? No. Suppose you tell me. That's the first big move I've made in the last 10 years that Hilda didn't plan. Expense account item 14, 305.20. Hotel and incidentals in Las Vegas and transportation back to Hartford. Expense account total $596.45. End of account remarks. Well, I can't figure out why she had to go messing around that way when she already had a man of her own. Her husband. Of course, it didn't amount to much, but not many men do what you expect to find in this world. Pearls in all her oysters, a turkey in her soup. Well, that was Nikki. And that's the report. That's life. Come to think of it, though, what isn't? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Now here's our star to tell you about next week's intriguing story. Next week, Indestructible Mike, the most amazing character I ever met. A man with nine lives, at least. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Be Daily, is transcribed in Hollywood. Written by Les Crutchfield, it is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Heard in our cast were Susan Whitney, Richard Crenna, Jeanette Nolan, Forrest Lewis, Inga Adams, Paul Richards and Gene Tatum. Musical supervision by Amerigo Moreno and Carl Fortina. Be sure to join us on Monday night, same time and station, for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking. We just heard box 13, the adventures of Philip Marlow and yours truly, Johnny Dollar. That will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio detectives. 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 meanstotr I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio detectives. Until then, good night and happy listening. Now here is our star, 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 cracks 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.