← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 620 - Fool Me Once (Sherlock Holmes, Box 13, Philip Marlowe, & Broadway is My Beat)
02:01:34
In honor of April Fool's Day, our radio detectives this week have to contend with some practical jokes and jokers that are anything but funny. Dr. Watson is enlisted to pull a prank on Sherlock Holmes in "The April Fool's Day Adventure," starring...
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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. A more old radio detectives and crime fighters. This Tuesday is April 1st, April Fool's Day. And while it's a time for jokes and tricks, our detectives this week have to deal with some pranksters and pranks that are anything but funny. First up are Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in the April Fool's Day adventure. An episode of the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes that aired, appropriately enough, on April. April 1, 1946. It's an original radio mystery set in the very early days of the partnership between our heroes, where Watson is enlisted to help play an April Fool's joke on the great detective. But soon a very real crime is committed. Next up, we have Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday in Death Is no Joke, a syndicated episode of Box 13. The latest letter to Box 13 comes from an old friend of Dan's, along with an invitation to visit his family's country home, where someone is taking practical jokes too far. Before long, a snake has made an appearance in the house and some break lines are cut. Dan has to figure out who among the guests has a deadly sense of humor. Then Gerald Moore is Philip Marlowe in the Last Laugh, originally aired on CBS on April 2, 1949. Marlow is summoned for the reading of the will, the late master prankster. But it turns out the man is still alive and the whole affair is just another of his elaborate jokes. But one of his would be heirs didn't find it all that funny as the man is soon found dead for real and will close with Murder of a Great White Way and Broadway Is My Beat. Larry Thor stars as Detective Danny Clover, the policeman with the soul of a poet in an episode known as Laugh a Minute Tyler. Originally aired on CBS on March 14, 1953. The titular Mr. Tyler is a practical joker who may have pulled one prank too many. He's found beaten to death, and it's up to Danny Clover to find his killer. We'll kick things off with the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. No fooling, right after these messages. Why has Hollywood star Merle Oberon switched to new improved green shampoo because compared to dulling soap shampoos, this wonderful new dream reveals up to 33% more sheen. Follow Merle's secret for shining hair, it's new green for Hollywood sheen. Improved green for Hollywood sheen. Your hair can have that Hollywood sheen the very first time you use New dream Get wonderful new green shampoo from coast to coast. Ford owners agree the big new Ford brings you more for your money. More in comfort, more in performance and more in economy. But only through personal experience can you appreciate the restful ease of Ford's famous midship ride and the luxurious comfort of Ford's non sag foam rubber cushion front seat. Only by driving this great car can you enjoy its smooth power and solid roadability. And only by getting the facts about Ford's economy can you understand that so powerful, so smooth riding and so beautiful a car can cost so little to buy, to run and to maintain. Find out how much it saves you. Yes, before you buy any car at any price, it will pay you to stop by your local Ford dealers. Take the wheel of the 100 horsepower V8 on its companion in quality, the 95 horsepower 6. Once you've driven it, you'll agree the new Ford is the one truly fine car in the low price field. Looking for a good food? Buy? Then get Velveeta, Kraft's famous pasteurized processed cheese food. Velveeta is one of the best food buys you can make because Velveeta is not only delicious, but it's nourishing too. And you can use Velveeta so many ways in snacks, sandwiches and for a variety of economical hot main dishes. Melt Velveeta for a smooth golden cheese sauce to extend leftovers or to use in new made dishes. Make it your handy helper for all kinds of money saving hot meals. Get it tomorrow. Your best buy in cheese food Velveeta made only by Kraft. To every woman listening tonight, I want to say a special word about making every dinner or supper you serve taste better. I want to urge you to start serving Roma wine with your meals. It's simple, the cost is very, very little and it works magic in making food more enjoyable. You can serve Roma wine with any meal or any time in any kind of glass you wish. Serve it chilled. Try different kinds of Roma wine until you find those you enjoy most of all. Try hearty red Roma California Burgundy or the delicately delicious Roma California Sauterne. The cost is mere pennies a glassful, but you'll find even A pickup supper tastes like a banquet. Get Roma wines today, and if your dealer is temporarily out of them, please try again soon. Just ask for R O M A Roma wines, America's largest selling wines made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. 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. Petri wine brings you Basil Rathbone and Nigel Brooks in the new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The Petri family, the family that took time to bring you good wine, invite you to listen to Dr. Watson tell us another exciting adventure he shared with his old friend at master detective Sherlock Holmes. And right now I'd like to just briefly mention an idea you ought to try. Tomorrow night, just before you sit down to dinner, just pour yourself a glass of that good Petri California sherry. Petri Sheffield is the perfect before dinner wine. Its cheerful, glowing amber color looks festive, and it sort of lends an air of importance to the occasion. As for the wine itself, just taste it at Petri sherry. It's not just ordinary wine. No, sir. One sip, and you know that wonderful sunripened grapes went into its making. Yes. And you know that petri sherry was carefully watched over every step of the way. Incidentally, Petrie makes two kinds of sherry. Regular sherry and petri pale dry. If you're not sure just which kind you and your friends will like best, try them both. Don't buy one, buy two. But when it comes to sherry, or any other wine for that matter, be sure you always buy, Peter. And now I'm certain our good friend Dr. Watson's waiting for us. Let's go in and join him. Ah, There you are, Mr. Burchell. I'm sure to the minutes, as always. Well, this is one doctor's appointment I'm eager to keep. I should have said so, my boy. Draw up your usual chair and make yourself comfortable. Thanks. Well, Doctor, today is April 1st. Did anyone try and play any jokes on you? You did, Mr. Barto. But I'm happy to say that nobody caught me, not as in the story that I'm going to tell you tonight. But an April Fool's day prank certainly scored a bullseye. I see you have the dispatch box out again, doctor. Been refreshing your memory? Yes, I have. When I tell you the adventure took place in 1881, I think you'll agree that after such a lapse of time, a man can hardly rely on memory alone. 1881, Doctor. Tonight's adventure must have Been one of the really early ones. Yes, it was indeed. In fact, to be exact, it took place only a little while after Sherlock Holmes and I had first met and had taken up lodgings together. How was the great detective in those early days found mystery to me, Mr. Barteau. To give you an example, my boy, I've shared the Baker street lodgings with him for over a month before I was even certain of his profession. The knowledge of which I learnt to my awe and astonishment when our first adventure together took place. That was the one you called A Study in Scarlet, wasn't it, doctor? That's right, Mr. Martin. What a memory you've got. But even after that adventure I find myself wondering at times what I let myself in for sharing lodgings with such a strange companion. It was in one of those moods of doubt and confusion that my story begins. Late one March evening, I find myself in the neighborhood of Piccadilly Circus. It was cold. An acidic drizzle of rain had dampened my spirits. I thought the glass of wine and the sound of music would put me in a better mood. And so, Mr. Bartel, I entered the Criterion Restaurant. As I sat with a glass of rare vintage port at my elbow, the orchestra playing a dreamy strass waltz in the background, I couldn't help thinking of the last time that I'd been there. It was the night I met a young medical student by the name of Stanford. He was the man who first introduced me to Sherlock Holmes. Suddenly I felt a cap on my shoulder. I turned and to my amazement, once again young Stamford was standing before me. Watson. Or should I say Dr. Watson? How are you, my dear chef? Hello, Stanford. Come and sit down. Thanks. I'm glad to see that you're not holding any grudge against me. Why on earth should I do that? For introducing you to Sherlock Holmes. I've reproached myself ever since. I think he's as mad as a hat. Not at all. He may be eccentric. In fact, I'll admit that he is eccentric. But he's an extraordinary, interesting fellow. He'll make a great deal for himself as a private detective one of these days. You'll see if I'm not right, Sanford. I saw something about him in the paper the other day. Was the Larston Gardens affair, wasn't it? Yes. Yes it was. He's a brilliant man, Stanford, quite brilliant. Though I must admit he's difficult at times. He works like a fiend as a rule, but occasionally every action sets in him for days at a time. We lie on our Sofa? Hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night. Depressing, I must say. I think he takes himself too seriously. Yes, that's your right. How would you like to join in a little plot? Plot? Against Holmes? Yes, yes, just a rag, you know, we thought it'd be rather fun. We? Murphy and I, we were just talking about it. I'll call him over. Murphy. Murphy. I've seen him before, something I know I'm sure you must have done. He's been around at the hospital and anytime you go in the British Museum you'll find him there. Nice fella, but dull. Definitely dull. Yes, Stanford. Oh, this is a friend of mine, John Watson. This is James Murphy. How do? I think I'll see you at the hospital? And I know I've seen you, Dr. Watson. Oh, sit down and come and join us, won't you? Oh, thank you very much. I was just telling Watson about our little plot. Oh you, you, you mean about Sherlock Holmes? Now look here, I'd like you fellas to realize that Holmes is a very good friend of mine. Oh, don't worry, Watson, this is all in good fun. Don't you realize? What date is tomorrow? 1st of April, isn't it? Yes, April Fool's Day. Oh, I see. You're going to play an April Fool's Day joke on, on Holmes. Yes, that's our plan. Well, it's hardly our plan, Stamp, but it's very Lady Anne Partington's idea. You see, Holmes was very rude to her when she visited the hospital recently and she wants to, well, you know, take him down a peg or two. Sounds innocent enough, but I must say he's inclined to be rather arrogant at times. Well, what's, what's the plan? Well, we'll need your help, Watson. You must be careful not to give the joke away. I'll bet you a fiver that Holmes falls for the whole story, hook, button and sinker. Now here's exactly what we're planning to do. Lady Anne is going to call on Holmes at Baker street in the morning. Lady Anne, I'm very sad that you've called to see me in my professional capacity. Surely, my dear man, you didn't think this was a social call. You were much too rude to me at the hospital the other day for that. That was the point I was trying to make. Sit down, won't you? Take this chair, won't you, Lady Anne? I saw her most comfortable chair in the room. Thank you, Dr. Watson. And now what can I do to help you? You've Heard of the Elphinstone embryo? Oh yes, yes indeed. A magnificent stone of very considerable value. An heirloom in your family, I believe. Yes, Mr. Holmes. I keep it in a walled safe in my bedroom. This morning when I had occasion to go to the safe, I discovered that the emerald had been stolen. Stolen? Scott. Shocking business. Of course you want Mr. Holmes to recover it for you. A remarkable deduction, my dear sir. Lady Ann, when you open the safe, did you observe any signs of it having been tampered with? I think it's rather stupid to sit and answer questions here in Baker Street. Why don't you come up to my house in Cavendish Square and examine the safer yourself? You are a detective, aren't you? Lady Ann, just now you accused me of rudeness. I assure you that mine at least was unintentional. Oh, come, come, come home. Don't be so touchy. I can promise you a substantial fee, Mr. Holmes. I'm a struggling practitioner and a new profession aid my poverty but not my will. Consents. I pay thy poverty and not thy will. You see, I can throat my Shakespeare too. Mr. Holmes. My carriage is waiting, gentlemen. Let's drive over to Cavendish Square at once, shall we? This is the wall safe, Mr. Holmes. Not too difficult a safe crack for an expert. You placed the emerald in it last night, you say? Yes, when I went to bed and this morning it had gone. Well Surely, Holmes, it is a good occasion to use that magnifying glass that you're always fitting about. Excellent occasion, my dear doctor. That's why I brought it with me. Uh huh. That's very interesting. What is it? This safe was opened by an expert. There isn't a sign of its having been forced. Hello. What have you discovered? There's a peculiar tarnish on the steel knob. It was obviously handled by someone whose fingers are habitually stained with chemicals. Amazing, Holmes. My dear doctor, where does that door lead? To my boudoir. I should like to examine it if I may. But of course. Thank you, lady. And Dr. Watson, this is the most beautiful April Fool's Day fraud I've ever played. Say Murphy is right. He has fallen point blind and sinker. Just the same, I'm beginning to feel guilty. I can't help feeling a bit disloyal. Oh no, it's all in fun. Are Stamford and Mr. Murphy listening? Yes, they're next door in my drawing room. I'm sure their ears are positively glued to the keyhole. Well, I do hope Holmes won't be angry with me. Here he comes. Nothing of Any interest in there? The windows haven't been tampered with. We may presume therefore that the thief did not enter by an upstairs window. Lady Anne? Yes, Mr. This room has not been touched since you discovered. Your loss. Oh no. I told the servants to leave it exactly as it was while I came to fetch you. Spend it, spend it. Deep pile cartage. Couldn't be better. The thief was a tall man with a long stride. Come, come, come, Holmes, I know your methods. That there aren't any footprints on the scarpet that, that you can identify even with your magnifying glass. Doctor, I've studied many crimes and I've never seen one yet that was committed by a flying creature. As long as a criminal remains upon his two legs, there must be some, some tightening displacement can be detected by a keen observer. I assure you that the marks on this carpet indicate that the thief was a tall man with a long stride. This is a tobacco ash. Hot tobacco, Jagged tobacco that sells at fourpence an ounce. Now really, Mr. Holmes, how can you possibly identify an individual tobacco? Oh, it's a copy of mine. In fact I've even written a monograph on the subject. Now one more look at the space itself. Hello. What's this powder does here what it brought it trace of rosin. Lady Anne, I suggest you get in touch with Scott and Yard at once. You mean that you've solved at home? I mean, my dear doctor, that I can give you a reasonably complete picture of the thief. And that picture is so individual that I'd be surprised if it would fit more than one man in London. This is pure magic, Mr. Holmes. Please describe him to me. Well, he's a tall man, the width of his stride indicates that. And he's thin. What enables you to tell that, Holmes? His footprints have made a remarkably light indentation on the nap of the carpet. Our thief dabbles extensively in chemicals, as indicated by the tarnishing of the knob on the safe. And the traces of rosin would suggest that he plays the violin also. He smokes shag tobacco, has a great practical knowledge of the ways of combination locks and he's obviously in close contact with the criminal classes. How do you know that, Mr. Holmes? Well, he wouldn't steal a famous stone unless he knew how to dispose of it through some trustworthy fence. Yes, it's a very comprehensive picture, Holmes. I almost feel. As you were the chap. Thank you, doctor. I'm sure there's only one man in London and it shouldn't be hard to praise him. I agree entirely Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson. I think the joke has gone far enough. Joke? What do you mean? You're quite right, Holmes. In saying there's only one such man in London. You've just given a perfect description of yourself. April Fool. Dr. Stamford, Mr. Murphy, you can come in now. April fool, huh? April fool. Come along here into the drawing room, everyone. Let us drink a glass of wine to Mr. Holmes, who has so graciously forgiven us for the little trick we played on him. And also to Dr. Stanford thought of the whole idea. No hard feelings, Holmes? No, Doctor. It was a rather embarrassing experience. Murphy told me about the plan. I. I just couldn't resist joining him. Ah, here you are, Holmes. Here's a drink. Thank you, Stamford. You know Murphy, don't you? No, I don't. We've met. How do you do, sir? How'd you do, Holmes? How did you like the little game we played on you? It was rather a salutary experience. I suppose you gave them all the details to build up the picture of me, eh, Doctor? Yes, I did, Holmes. And knowing some of your methods, he tried to plant every clue that you'd pick up. Very neat job too. And incidentally, perfect example of the dangers of deductions based on purely circumstantial evidence. I shall profit from this little lesson. I must say, it was worth a fortune in emeralds to see your face, Holmes, when you realized what you'd done. Well, the joke's over now. By the way, where is Lady Anne? I believe she said she was going to fetch the Elphinstone emerald. She thought you might be interested in seeing it. She probably feels the sight of it. Salve, my wounded bacteria. Oh, here she comes now. Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes. Scott, what's wrong? What's happened? Lady Anne, the emerald. It's not where I hid it. This time it's really stolen. Dr. Watson's story will continue in just a few seconds. So I just had to remind you that there are many, many different types of wine. But if you want one wine that's fine for almost any occasion, then you want Petri California Sherry. Petri Sherry is fine before dinner, of course, but Petri Sherry is good after dinner too. And it's the perfect wine for cocktail time or anytime friends drop in, everybody will love the real heart of the great flavor you get in every sip of Petri Sherry. And you can serve Petri Sherry proudly because those letters, P, E, T, R I spell the proudest name in the history of American wine. Petri wine. Dr. Watson, your April Fool Day plot Kind of backfired on you, didn't it? Yes, Mr. Bartel, it was a perfect example of the bite bitch. What happened next? I suppose Sherlock Holmes went into action once again. That's fair, Mr. Bartel. And it gladdened my heart to see the change in the fuller. I confess I'd felt rather ashamed of my part in the prank for I could see that Holmes pride had been hurt. But now with a definite crime before him the difference was amazing. He suddenly became a dynamo galvanized into action as he stood there firing questions of the other members. Lady Anne, who beside yourself knew of this fresh hiding place? Both Mercy and I did, yes. After we'd left our deliberate clues on the safe we went with Lady Anne and saw her secrete the emerald in the top drawer of her dressing table. We thought it would be all right there after all. As soon as the joke was over I was going to put it back in the safe. I think I might just plan before we question the servants would be for each one of you who were in this April day prank to submit to being searched. Holmes, surely you don't suggest that any one of us took the emerald? No Stampin, I don't. But if any one of you four are not guilty this will be a splendid way of proving your innocence. I say steady Holmes. You're not suggesting that Lady Anne stole her own El you Mr. Holmes? I'm suggesting nothing. But I may point out that the recent vogue for the insurance companies has provided another interesting motive for these so called. I resent your insinuation. It's outrageous. Lady Anne, if I'm to recover your emerald I must at least consider every possibility. The search is the most immediate practical action. And perhaps you'll retire into the next room when I persuade these gentlemen to submit to being searched. Very well, but, but I think you're in danger of making a fool of yourself once again. Wait, don't, don't go Lady Anne. Search won't be necessary. What do you mean, Murphy? I, I must throw myself. On your mercy, Lady Anne. I confess that I stole the emerald. Murphy. After you put it in the drawer, Lady Anne, I, I slipped back into the room and took it out. Murphy, that's a criminal action, I know it. But I'm poor. I need money desperately for my mathematical research. I knew the emerald was priceless and I, I couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of a joke. Here Lady Anne, here's the stone and please don't prosecute me. Please don't. It'd be my ruin May I examine the emerald? The Anne. Thank you. Well, Mr. Murphy, I won't pretend that I'm not deeply shocked. I must ask you to leave my house. But you can prosecute me. Will you? It was a moment's temptation. No, no, I won't prosecute you. Holmes, what are you doing with the emerald? Well, knowing something of the deceptive ways of thieves, I came on this case fully prepared to test the emerald when I found it. Now, a dot of this acid from this vile. So, Mr. Holmes, what are you doing? You'll enter the stone. No, not. It's a true emerald. Huh, look at that. Good Lord. The acid's eating to the stone as if it was sugar. Then that means. It means, Lady Anne, that Mr. Murphy has just imperiled his honor and his freedom to steal a singularly beautiful fake. Mr. Holmes, this joke has turned into a nightmare. Is there no way of recovering my emeralds? I hope so, Lady Anne. I've been taking steps in their logical order. The servants have all been questioned. We've searched Mr. Stamford for Mr. Murphy. Yes, most humiliating experience. Made me feel like a criminal. Personally, I was only too thankful to submit to a search this time I knew I had nothing to worry about. You yourself, Lady Anne, you consented to being searched by the police matron that Holmes sent for. Only because he threatened to set for the police if I didn't. But distasteful though it was, I'd rather endure that than have this story on the front pages of the newspapers. And in spite of all these rather unfriendly proceedings, we've got exactly nowhere as regards finding the emerald. No, Stamford, but we have at least eliminated the possibility that the thief is secreting the jewel on his person. It's still somewhere in these two rooms, eh, Holmes? I think so. Though there is one remaining possibility. And that is that the fake stone was substituted for the real emerald sometime before. For all of you engineered your April Fool's Day joke. Oh no, Mr. Hope, that's not possible. I know it was the genuine emerald I took out of the safe this morning. How can you be sure? The substitute was an excellent imitation. Without a chemical test such as I performed, it would be hard to be certain. I can tell you why I'm certain. Last night Papa came to dinner and brought a Mr. Van der Lieder of Amsterdam. He examined the stone and you'll agree that a dual expert like that couldn't be fooled. That's true, Lady Anne. And what did you do with the emerald after Mr. Van der Leyde left? I Locked it in my safe and went to bed. I didn't unlock the safe again until Dr. Stanford and Mr. Murphy came here this morning. That settles it then. The real emerald is still hidden somewhere in these two rooms. But where? That's the question. I must say it's completely mystifying. Well, let's go back to what we were all doing at the exact moment you came into the room, Lady Anne, and informed us of the loss of your stone. Now we were. We were drinking a toast to you, wasn't it? Lady Ann? Hard thinking is. Well, it's thirsty work. I'm so sorry. Let me get you something. A glass of pork? No, no thank you, but I. I observe that you have a remarkably comprehensive assortment of liqueurs. I wonder if I might have a glass of creme de mont? Oh, of course. I'll get it for you. Creme de mont? In the middle of the day? Home. I knew you were eccentric, but this really tip. This bottle, it. It clinged as I picked it up. I thought it might be Diane. There's something inside. Thank you. I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I waste this liqueur on the aspid estra. So Lady Anne, allow me to restore to you the Elfinson emerald. Great Scott, he's fantastic. Ingenious. The one safe hiding place in the room. Where could a green gem be more effectively hidden than in a bottle of green liqueur? But who stole it? Who substituted the fake stone? Frankly, I don't care. The gem is restored, that's all that matters. I prefer not to go to court. Neither you nor I, Mr. Sherlock Holmes would show up in the best of light and my father would disapprove of this whole affair I'm afraid. Just as you wish, Lady Anne. In either case I shall expect your check for my services in due. Here we are at the Criterion again, Stanford. Won't you come in and join us for lunch? Thanks Watson, but I'll keep the cabin. Go on. I actually have patient this afternoon. A rare and delightful experience for a young doctor. As you probably know. As rare and delightful as a client is for a young detective. I quite understand and I'm correspondingly grateful to you for your. Your profitable soap. I'm glad it was profitable for you. Personally, I feel pretty stupid about the whole thing. Well, goodbye. Goodbye old fellow. Goodbye. 39 Onslow Square, cabby. You're remarkably quiet, Murphy. I'm afraid my conscience won't lend me too much talking, Doctor. I'm heartily ashamed of myself. Well, thanks for the left off. I'll leave you chaps. Oh nonsense, nonsense. You'll join us for lunch, Murphy. But. No buts about it, I insist. Come on. Well, you're very nice of you. Oh come, come, come, Murphy. Any one of us can make a foolish mistake. It's just lucky that you have to pay for yours. Your wishes at David? Yes. The three please. This way, monsieur. Does this table please you? Excellent. Thank you, George. I'm as hungry as a hunter. How about you, Murphy? Now I'm afraid I have very little appetite. This whole case has upset me dreadfully. You mustn't take it so much to heart, Murphy. By the way, Doctor, I'd like to have your opinion on the case. Who do you think staged the theft of the emerald today? Perfectly obvious to me. Lady Ann Farlington did it herself to collect insurance money. If she hadn't, she'd have insisted on your finding the thief. But you needn't worry, old chap. You get your fee all right. I'm sure of that. I'm not worrying about the fee. But I assure you Lady Ann did not engineer that fraud today. You. You. You mean it was Stafford? Tell him who was responsible, my dear Murphy. But how should I know? Oh come now, Murphy, let's not fence any longer. You did an excellent job, a superlative job. I was almost sorry to spoil it for you. I don't think I understand you. Oh yes you do, Murphy. You're a splendid actor too. I was so deeply touched when you were apparently stood on a fake jewel. And all the time you knew that the real one was safely hidden in the bottle of creme de mont. To be abstracted at your pleasure. You scoundrel, Holmes. Do you mind telling me what's going on here? I'm completely and absolutely in the dark. Surely it's obvious, my dear Doctor. The imitation emerald was a brilliant copy. What makes you so sure of that, my dear? Because this April Fool's Day hoax was only conceived yesterday. Or that is what you wish the other to believe. Such a superb paste gem could not have been made at such short notice. Therefore it must have been prepared by someone who knew about the hoax before it was arranged. Now my dear Doctor, when Stanford told you about the plan last night, whose idea did he say it was? He told me this was Lady Anne Fartington's plan. Precisely. And yet Lady Ann referred today as Stamper's idea. Obviously. You, my dear Murphy, presented the plan to each as the notion of the other. And so only you could have arranged the real Theft behind the hoax. I repeat, a splendid job. Thank you, Mr. Holmes. May I. May I also compliment you on your cleverness in frustrating my plot? Look here, what is all this? One of you is a criminal, the other's a detective, yet you're throwing each other compliments as if you were in the same profession. The dividing line between the criminal and the criminal investigator is than you might imagine, my dear doctor. How very true. My dear Holmes, would you consider coming over to my side of the line? Together we'd make an unbeatable team. Oh, are you flattering. Nevertheless, I must decline your offer, Mr. Murphy. Oh, pity. On your side of the line you'll never be a rich man. By the way, for your edification, my name is not Murphy, though Stanford insists on thinking it is. Then what is your name, you scoundrel? Your friend says the word scoundrel so much better than you, Doctor. My name, My name is Murtree. Oh, indeed. Spelled M U R T R Y. No. Dear me, I have so much trouble with my name people will either misspell it or mispronounce it. I'm afraid I'll have to begin calling it the Way Looks M O R I A R T Y. Moriarty. Moriarty. I shall remember that name. I have a feeling we shall meet again. I trust that we shall. You've won the first brown, Sherlock Holmes, I admit that. But I believe that a return match is indicated. I shall look forward to it, Moriarty. And now, Doctor, I can't stand your baleful flair any longer. Let's order luck, shall we? That was a pretty hectic April Fool's Day. I never want to see an up on exactly like it. I don't blame you, you know. I'd sure hate to have someone come to my house and pull a trick like that on me. Why, Mr. Bartel, do you have a precious emerald you fear may be stolen? Are you kidding? I wouldn't know the difference between a precious emerald and a piece of green glass. But when it comes to rubies, that's something else. Oh, you would know a ruby when you. When you saw it. Sure, because a ruby has exactly the same color as a glass of Petri. California port held up to the light. Mr. Bartel, you can find more excuses for talking about Petri wine than any man in the entire world, believe me. Excuses. I don't need an excuse to talk about Petri wine. Why, there's a wine that actually speaks for itself. If I may borrow a phrase from Shakespeare or somebody, there's another wine Quite like Petri wine, because only Petri wine is made by the Petri family. And the Petri family has been making wine for generations. They've been handing down from father to son, from father to son, years and years of knowledge and experience of the fine art turning luscious grapes into clear, fragrant, delicious wine. Yes, and because the making of Petri wine is a family affair, those letters, P, E, T, R, I on a bottle of wine are the personal assurance of the Petri family that every drop of wine in that bottle is good wine. You never miss with a Petri wine because Petri took time to bring you good wine. Well, Dr. Watson, what's the prescription for next week's? Well, next week, Mr. Bartell, I'm going to tell you a rather unusual story. It concerns a series of strange disappearances and a murder with apparent reason. And yet it was a case that Sherlock Holmes solved without ever meeting any of the suspects. I call it the Singular affair of the Disappearing Scientists. Well, I'm sure we'll all want to hear that one, doctor. Oh, I'm sure. Well, before you go, Mr. Bartel, I want to urge our friends to do all they can to save on the use of all wheat and rice products and also fats and oils. There are millions of families literally starving to death in Europe and Asia. They're not being asked to give them our food, but just being asked to take it easy on certain foods so that there will be some left for them to buy. I know there isn't one person listening to me tonight who would knowingly let anyone starve. And remember, unless you do help, thousands of little children will starve. So please, let's share a meal and say bye. Tonight, Sherlock Holmes Adventure was written by Dennis Green and Anthony Boucher and was suggested by an incident in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's story, A Study in Scarlet. Music is by Dean Fossler. Mr. Rathbone appears through the courtesy of Metro Goldwyn Mayer and Mr. Bruce through the courtesy of Universal Pictures, where they are now starring in the Sherlock Holmes series. The Petri Wine Company of San Francisco, California, invites you to tune in again next week, same time, same station. Sherlock Holmes comes to you from our Hollywood studios. This is Harry Bartel saying good night for the Petrie family for a solid hour of exciting mystery dramas. Listen every Monday on most of these Same stations at 8:00-michael Shane, followed immediately by Sherlock Hole, Box 13 with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Dear Dan, knowing your box 13 angle, I hope what I have to offer is intriguing enough to tempt you. At least I think it can be interesting. As a matter of fact, Dan, this thing has got to the point now where it's becoming downright vicious and scares me a little. What? The thing is, I'll tell you when and if I see you. If you can drag yourself away from town for a few days. Drag yourself away from town for a few days. Consider this letter an invitation to join me at the country home of Bernard Trendler, my cousin. Enclosed are the directions for getting there. I'll meet you at the station. Wire me first. As ever, Alex. Yeah, it sounded harmless and simple. Two words I'd never apply to murder. And now Back to box 13 and Dan Holliday's newest adventure. Death is no joke. I don't think you should go, Mr. Holliday. And why not, Susie? Well, every time you accept an invitation like this, something bad happens to you. Susie. Every time someone reads that ad in the Start Times it means trouble. But here I am, still alive and kicking. You just better watch out. You're not intolerable, you know. Well, thanks, Susie, but did you mean intolerable? Sure. Like Achilles was after he was dipped in the river. Stinks. Oh, it was the sticks. And you mean invulnerable. Oh, intolerable and vulnerable. You could get hurt. Okay, we'll see. Oh, by the way, did you send that wire to Alex? Oh, of course I did. Oh, good girl. Well, expect me when you see me. So long, Susie. Dan. Hey, Dan. Dan. Alex. How are you? Dan Holiday. So you're still alive. Why not? It's a good idea. Is this your luggage? Oh, yes, yes, just that flat stone. Good. My car is just around the other side of the depot. This way. Am I supposed to ask what your letter meant or do I wait until you get ready to tell me? Wait till we get into the car. That's it. Blue convertible. Well, you've done all right. There's no motor under the hood. Hop in. How's Ruth? Oh, great. Any children yet? No, not yet. Oh, now, look, I thought you'd have about five by now. Maybe. What's on your mind, Alex? You're worried about something. Yeah, I don't know whether I am or not. Look, maybe asking you to stick an oar in this was, well, presuming upon friendship. That's what friendship's for. It's up to a point. Okay, let's get to the point. Well, it's practical jokes. I knew you'd look blank at that. I'm glad I didn't disappoint you. What's the angle? Practical jokes. Go ahead. Ruth and I are guests at Bernard Trandler's. He's my cousin. You ever heard of him? Oh, yes, yes. Showed up not too long ago to claim a fortune, didn't he? Yes, that's right. He ran away from home when he was 17. He was gone 15 years recently. His father, that's my uncle, he died and left the entire trend, their fortune, to us. If he hadn't been found, it would have been divided among the rest of us. But he showed up and claimed it. So where do the practical jokes come in? And why? Ruth and I have been here for a week and a half now. Every day there have been two or three practical jokes playing. At first they were ordinary, not very funny, just amusing. But. But what? Now they're getting vicious, mean, contemptible. How do you mean that? Just that way. Who's the funny man? We don't know. Any idea? No. That's why I've asked you to come up. Oh, and look, Dan, don't let on I told you. Let me do the talking when I introduce you. And take your cues from me, huh? I see. I'm to be the silent observer, is that it? Figure it out for yourself. Could I or anyone else call in the police? No, because no one's been hurt yet. You say that as though you expect trouble in large chunks. I do, Dan, I do. Somebody's going to get hurt, and badly. Alex drove onto the Trendler place. There was nothing else he could tell me about the practical jokes. Then we pulled up before we got to the house because a tall, thin man was walking down the drive. Alex stopped the car and spoke softly to me. There's Bernie Trendler coming down the drive. What do I say or do? How do I explain my presence? Leave that to me. Just take the cues as I throw them. Bernie. Hey, Bernie. Alex? Is that you? Alex? Yeah. We'll get out of here. Pick up your bag later. I've been looking for you, Alex. And. Oh, I beg your pardon, Bernie. I'm afraid I'm guilty of a guest's worst crime, dragging in a friend. Oh, nonsense. Don't talk like that. Dan, this is my cousin, Bernie Trendler. Bernie, Dan Holiday. How do you do? Fine. You? I'm sorry I barged in like this, but I. But I haven't seen Alex in quite a while. Dan's a writer, Bernie. I thought he might. Well, stop over a day or so. He's. He's going away soon. That right, Dan? Oh yes, I'm going away. Of course. It's all right. Plenty of room. Oh well, thank you. It's very nice of you. That's all. If you'll excuse me, I've got to see the gardener about a couple of things. Alex have else he show Danny's room. Sure thing. Thanks, Bernie. Not at all. Glad to have you, Dan. So that's Bernard Trandler. Why do you say it like that? Like that? As though you didn't believe it. Oh, I gave you that idea. I don't know. Any man who's inherited a 20 million dollar fortune has no right to look that worried. He has. Huh? What's that mean? There are two people in this house who hate him. Hate him enough to kill. Well, with that Alex took me into the house. A maid showed me to my room and, well, I saw no one else until later that afternoon. Then I walked into the library on the ground floor. There were two people seated there. I stopped at the door. Well, hello. Who are you? Oh, my name is Holliday, Dan Holliday. I'm looking for Alex. He's looking for Alex, Martha. All right, let him look for Alex. Have you tried looking under some rocks, Mr. Oh, holiday. Dan Holiday. Did you just arrive? Just after lunch. Too bad. The lunch was horrible. You didn't help it, Martha. I didn't try to, Henry. You don't have to try, my dear. Well, I suppose we may as well introduce ourselves. I'm Henry Trendler. This is my wife, Martha. How do you do? I'm Bernie's cousin. Oh, I've met Mr. Trendler. Isn't that nice, Henry? I'm going down to the lake. Well, don't go out too far, my dear. I don't know how to swim, my dear. Yes, I know that. Goodbye. Nice to have met you, Mr. Holliday. Oh, she remembers Mr. Holliday. It's just one of her irritating little tricks. Oh. Oh, I see. She's an attractive woman. Is there any chance you might fall in love with her? Fall in love with her? Why I. Why do you ask that? I'll agree to a divorce immediately. Am I supposed to laugh at that? Anything you like. You staying long, Holiday? One or two days. That's quite enough. Of course with such lovely people around, I may decide to postpone my departure until this evening. Oh, you love us once you get used to us, Holiday. I'll grant it takes a little doing. Hello there. Well, I see you two have met. Yes, we've met, Alex. Oh, where's Martha? She's gone to the lake. Well, I think I'll take a little walk. Nice to have met you, Holiday. Thank you. See you later. Well, Dan, charming people. Lovely people. In fact, I've never met two such delightful personalities. Means you've met Martha too. Oh yes. And what do you think? Well, if I'd known, I'd have brought my two edged sword. The big one. Dan, maybe you'd be a little sour if you had 20 million slip away from you like we have. Ah, if Bernie Trundler hadn't shown up, you, Henry and Martha would have had the whole watermelon, seeds and all. But now. Ruth. Damn. That was Ruth. Which way? Where is she? I left her in her room. Come on. Ruth. Ruth, which way? The end of the hallway. Ruth, darling, what's the matter? My closet. In there. Alec, stay with her. Alec. I'll see what it is. Now, dearest. It's all right. Please. It's all right. Alec, come over here. No, don't go, Alex, don't go. Don't. Stay where you are. Ruth. Look. Dan, kill it. No, it's harmless. It's a black snake. Harmless? Close the closet door until we can get a sack for it. Alex, is this the kind of practical joke you meant? This is the kind they're getting to be. I see. Ruth, where is it? It's all right. Now come on, let's get out of the room. Well, well, what's all the fuss? Take a look in that closet, Alex. Let her look. I'm willing to bet she put it there. You're more incoherent than usual, Alex. Mr. Holliday. What? What's in the closet? A snake. Really? Well, how nice for Ruth. I'll slap that smirk off your face. Bravo, Alex. I've been thinking about it for years. Well, Henry, this is the first indication I've had that you could think for years. Stop it. Stop it. Alex. Get out of here. Alex. Hurry. Come on, darling. Now what's all the excitement? It seems that Ruth found a snake in her closet. Oh, I. I thought you went to the lake. You do a great deal of thinking, don't you? When I have to. Then stop thinking about me. Did you put that snake in there? I never touched the thing. Sorry. Why are you at the lake? That, Mr. Holiday, is none of your business. I'll leave you to your snake. Oh. Did something strike you funny, Henry? Yes. You should feel really flattered, Holiday. Flattered? Why, my wife remembered your name. Oh, it was a lovely household hate. Dipped from the rafters. I could feel it why should anyone take it out in stupid, vicious pranks such as that snake in Ruth's closet? Why? It was before dinner that I decided to take a walk with Alex. He talked. I listened. First. It was amusing. A frog in one's bed. Clothes missing from the bathhouse at the lake. Wild. Incredible. Phone calls for all of us. How long has this been going on, Alex? Just about a week now. Have you any idea who it is? None. But why then? Why should anyone want to frighten Ruth out of her wits? Does Martha hate Ruth? Martha hates everyone. Martha's a chronic, congenital hater. What does she have against Ruth? That's it. Not a thing in the world. Has everyone been a victim of these pranks? Yes, Dan, They've got to stop. Yeah, I can see what you mean. Oh, how's Ruth? She's all right. We changed rooms. She won't go near the one we had. It was a harmless snake. Obviously, no one meant to harm Ruth. Oh, no. Just frighten her half to death. Why don't you leave Alex as a potential heir? That'd be a little ridiculous, wouldn't it? I see. What about Henry and Martha? They won't leave. Not as long as they can stay here free. Well, look. You say these things started about a week ago. Are you sure? Yes. They started just like that. No warning, no talk of pranks or jokes? None. And they're getting worse. Vicious. I give up. No, Dan, please. What do you want me to do? Obviously, the person or persons doing these things won't admit it. Apparently he or she intends to go on with it until. Until? Until what? Until the person gets to the real reason, the real objective of his viciousness. Who, Dan? Who? The person he or she means to kill. And now Back to Death is no joke. Another box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd as Dan Holliday. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe no one wanted to kill anyone and there was nothing we could go to the police about. What do you say? In a case like this, Somebody's playing jokes. And what about my host, whom I hadn't seen since my arrival? Well, I saw plenty of him. That same evening, after dinner, there were five of us in the library. Alex and Ruth, Henry and Martha and myself. What little conversation there had been was down to an occasional cough. Everyone was as jittery as a rookie pitcher facing the Yanks for the first time. Then I'm glad all of you are together for a change. Bernie, how nice to see you. Sit still. What's the matter, Bernie? You look mad. I Am. What's all that? A book and some pictures. Stay where you are, Henry. Oh, very well. This evening when I went to my room after dinner, I discovered someone had been there before me. Oh, Bernie. It could have been you, Cousin Martha. Oh, please, not in front of Henry. Oh, what difference does it make? Shut up. What are you getting at? Bernie? Look, this is an old high school annual of mine. No, not that. Next you'll bring out the albums. If I remember correctly, you were the only baby who managed to look positively gruesome lying on a table. I said shut up. Sorry. What about that annual, Bernie? Every single picture of me has either been defaced or cut out. What? Well, let's see. Keep your hands off. Yes, but I only want. Now look, Bunny. All right, then. Every picture, cut out or deface. That's right. And these pictures that were hanging in my room and in the study. Look how you've been cut out of all of them. And I want to know who did it. I'll speak up. Which one of you was it? I swear, if I find out, I'll tear his throat out. No one moved or said a word. Bernie Trent was face was as white as a sheet. His eyes crinkled into slits that glared from one of us to the other. I looked at the others. They were scared. Yes. Even Martha was afraid to open her mouth. Then, after a few seconds. I warn you. I warn you. Whoever's doing this, unless it stopped and stopped immediately, I'll do something about it. Do you hear? I want to stop. Bernie, please, you're frightening me. I'm sorry, Ruth. I think I'm going to bed. If you're doing these things, Martha, take my warning seriously. If I were doing them, Bernie, they'd be worse than they are. Good night. And if I find any snakes, I'll let you know. Look, I want to get out of here. I want to go home. Ruth, everything will be all right. I can't stand any more of this. I want to get out of here. All of them hating it. Yes, Ruth, it's true. Maybe she's got something. I have. You hate Bernie. You hate my dad. Stop it. Stop it. Take her upstairs, Alex. Go ahead, please. All right. Come on, Ruth. Come on. Well, I guess the party's over. I'll turn into. Just a moment. Henry. Yes? I hope you know I meant what I said. Why look at me? Get out of here. Go to your room. Thank you, I will. Good night. And close the door after you. I'm sorry for that display of temper, Holiday. This nonsense has been too much. I don't suppose you have any idea who's behind it? No, but this is the last straw. I wonder if there'll be any more. Huh? Why do you say that? I wonder if this is the last joke. It had better be. Suppose it's not? Then I'll send for the police. And tell them what? That someone's been playing jokes, effacing and ruining these books and pictures is vandalism. They meant quite a bit to you, didn't they? Of course they did. High school annual and photographs. Oh. When were the pictures taken, Bernie? Oh, years ago. 15, 16 years ago, when I was in high school. Why? I was just thinking. Very strange that only those photographs of you in athletic costumes should have been destroyed. What? Let me see. You're right. That's odd. Very odd. Oh, here's one of you that hasn't been destroyed. Let me look at it. 17 years old. What happened when you were 17, Bernie? What do you mean? Just that. Nothing. Nothing that I can remember. But something that someone else could remember. What the devil are you talking about, Holiday? I don't know yet. Maybe I'll find out. Not being able to sleep, I went for a walk in the moonlit garden. Suddenly I heard voices, a man's and a woman's, coming from the garden house. I walked closer. I don't know why I agreed to meet you out here in the first place. Oh, you don't? Well, I think so. What do you want? Just a small, tiny cut of the 20 million. What makes you think I'd give it to you? What makes you think you won't? Lots of things. How big a fool do you think I am? That's up to you. How big a fool can you make of yourself? Not quite as big as I can make of you. What's on that venomous mind of yours? Money? I don't mean that. You were a fool, Bernie. A fool to bring that book and those pictures downstairs tonight. So I was a fool. Why? Don't forget that I used to visit this house as a child. I remember lots of things my stupid husband doesn't. And things other people don't remember. Such as? Well, let's put it this way, Bernie. Let's say in those days you were more gauche than you are now. Are you? I could kill you for that. You would try to kill me, wouldn't you? With pleasure. But don't try it, Bernie, because if you do, you'll be found out. What do you want? I told you. Think it over, cousin. You have until tomorrow morning. She left the garden house and passed me. I stood in the shadows and watched it. There was a little smile on her face. Then I looked toward the garden house. Bernie Trendler stood in the doorway. A shaft of moonlight struck across his face. And if ever a face showed murder, it was his. Why don't you tell me where you're going, Dan? I can't, Alex. I. I can't until I'm sure of what I think I know. What's all the mystery? Oh, snakes and phone calls and torn out pictures. Want to ride into town? Is that it? Yeah, that's right. Just drive me in. Okay, but let me in on something, will you? You have to let me in on something first. What? Had anyone seen Bernie Chandler before he showed up and claimed the money in the estate? Not for 15 years. Why? Who identified him? The lawyers. He had all the necessary stuff. You know, papers, letters from my uncle. I see. Now, where's the high school he went to? Just outside of town. What the devil are you getting at? Where'd Bernie been before he showed up to claim the estate? South America, he said. Uh huh. Okay. Take me to that high school. What's the matter? I. Dan, something's wrong with the brakes. Try the emergency. No good. Dan, we're picking up speed on this hill. Try to shift into second. Compression of the engine will hold it back. Stay close to the left. Don't get near the embankment. What if someone's coming up the hill? We've got to take that chance. Where's the nearest side road? There isn't any. No turn offs. Keep your hands on the wheel. That emergency is no good. We got any pedal at all with a foot break? None at all. Look. Scrape the side of the hill on the left. Go in easy. That'll slow us down. Yes, but Dan, we. Do it. It's our only chance. How? Okay, again. Keep close and keep scraping. Dan, where you going? Look, someone cut through the brake fluid lines. What? Well, Dan, you're crazy. Why should anyone want to cut through? Did you tell anyone we were coming into town? Sure. Everyone knew it. Oh, that's great. Alex, you stay here and warn people away from this. Where are you going now? I'm going to high school. Well, I was right. I had to be right. After I left the high school with the information I'd found, I went to the sheriff's office, told him my story and piled into his car. I picked up Alex on the way back. And then Trendler house. There's Ruth. Ruth. Ruth. Better sit close, Sheriff. Alex. You were going to alone. Never mind that. Where's Bernie? Bernie? Well I don't know why. Hello everybody. What's all the fuss? How are you Sheriff? What are you doing here? Henry? Where's Bernie? Bernie? He and Martha went out on the lake. The lake? Yes, they went rowing. She can't swim. She's in a boat. She doesn't have this swim. That's what you think. Alex, is there a boat we can use? It's a speedboat tied up at the wharf. Well come on, let's go. They can't have gone far in a rowboat. Dan, are you sure of what you told me? I'm positive. We've got to get to them before there's a murder. A murder that looked like an accident. There they are. Get more speed out of this. I can't, Dan. Barney. Barney. Look. He's rung for sure. Cut in ahead. I'll try to head him off. Where's Martha? Lying in the boat. Cut in. Faster Alex, faster. That's it. Don't let him get to shore. Get down. Get out of here. Shoot the kill. Get down. He's jumped for sure. What if he gets away? Let him. He can be picked up later. Get to Martha. Martha. Martha. Keep this boat alongside. She all right, Dan? Yeah, it's just knocked out. He got away. I can't get past Granny. Break down. I won't. It's all right Martha. He's gone. Martha. Martha, you're all right now. He was going to kill me. Yes, I know he was going to kill you. Because you knew he wasn't the real Bernie Trendler. He hit me and I. I saw him start to. But I. I couldn't do anything about it. Are you all right now, Martha? I mean are you all right? She's all right, Henry. I'll get it. It's probably the sheriff. I. I suppose I should thank you, Mr. Holliday. That might be nice. Thank you. They got him alive. Yes, you're right, Dan. Would someone please explain all this? The real Bernie Chandler is probably dead. Killed by the man who passed himself off as the real Bernie. Isn't that right, Martha? I don't know anything about it, Martha. Oh, all right. I knew he wasn't the real Bernie last night. And you realize the pictures were defaced, Cut out. Yes. Bernie Pendler was left handed. By George. That's right. Why? Remember now, you see all those practical jokes were leading up to the destruction of the pictures. He couldn't get rid of them without attracting attention and suspicion. So he Took the elaborate way out. The jokes would have stopped once he destroyed those pictures. What about the high school then? I. I saw pictures there of the real Bernie in a baseball uniform with a baseball glove on his right hand. But how could he hope to get by with a fraud? Well, he did remember the real Bernie was missing for 15 years. But what made you think of it, Dan? I mean the left handedness. Well, let's say the real Bernie was gauche in those days. What's the matter, Martha? Nothing. Nothing at all, I hope. Oh, gauche is French for left, isn't it Martha? Yes. Yes it is. Well, is there anything else to tell? Why are you two looking at each other like that? Well I. I was just wondering how much I have to thank Mr. Holliday for. Well, let's say you've already thanked me for. I knew it. I knew it. You go away someplace and someone tries to kill you. Mm. Tried to by cutting the brake lines because he thought I'd guessed. Oh, and just think, those two nasty people will get all that money. Not all. Alex will get his share, which is all I care about. And you didn't tell what you heard in the garden house. Now why should I, Susie? Well, I think that's carrying Chevrolet too far. Chevrolet. Good night, Susie. Next week, same time, through the courtesy of Fairmont Pictures, Alan Ladd stars as Dan holiday in box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville with this week's original story by Oren Blackstone. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager Barnet. Susie is played by Sylvia Pick and production is supervised by vern Carstensen. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood Watch. For Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount picture, it was a grim joke that started when six heirs came to an ugly house on a rain swept island to hear a madman's will. But the joke soon turned to murder and in the end it was hard to tell who had the last laugh. From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of crime fiction, comes his most famous character in the Adventures of Philip Marlow. Now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlow, we bring you tonight's exciting story, the Last Laugh. I'd spent a week wading through moldy beer joints in cheap hotels after a dancer on the downgrade. And when I found her, she was two days dead in a coal cellar. All of which left me with a rancid taste in my mouth. But when I woke up after a night's sleep to the tune of a robin on my window, silly, I realized it was Spring and time for Marlow to take a long, easy weekend someplace. Someplace where the surf meets sand like it does, that say Ensenada. Without so much as a second thought, I threw some clothes in a bag, phoned the Riviera Pacifico for reservations and charged out the door, where I ran head on into a funny man with a studious face charging in. Oh, I'm awfully sorry. Why, you Philip Marlo? Yeah, yeah, I know. My name is Darwin. I represent the law firm that handles the interests of Julius Spangler. Therefore. Did you say Julius Spangler? Goodbye, Mr. Darwin. Now wait, Mr. Marlow. Now listen, I had a run in with that screwball Spangler less than a month ago. A man was knocked down a flight of stairs. I got shot at. An apartment house was set on fire and Julius called it a practical joke and laughed himself silly. Best I could do for him was three days in jail. It should have been three years. Goodbye, Mr. Darwin. That sort of think is all over now, Mr. Marlow. Mr. Spangler is dead. Spangler's dead? Yes, he died last week in Brazil. The result of a hunting accident. And he has named you in his will. He's named me? You mean I. Precisely. You're one of Mr. Spangler's heirs. I shall read the will tonight at 8:00 in his home on Catalina Island. I. I trust you'll be present. Not on your life. It's me for Ensenada and nothing's going to stop me. Goodbye, Mr. Darling. There are only five other heirs and the estate runs well over 500,000. Oh, almost. Any way you split that much up, Mr. Marlowe, it comes out something more substantial than a weekend at Ensenada. Goodbye, Mr. Marlowe. It was fantastic. But then so was Julia Spangler. Who knows, maybe he actually admired me for throwing him in jail. After all, what's old Mexico got that Catalina doesn't have Him. Better. What could I lose? It was only a matter of minutes before I was in Wilmington and climbing the gangplank of the last boat for Catalina Island. She nosed past the breakwater and headed for the open sea. And the green water glistened with gold from the sun slanting into a bank of clouds on the horizon. Ah, this was the life. I sat back and relaxed for all of 10 seconds before the name Spangler came up again, this time being volleyed between a matron meticulously tailored by I.J. fox, who clung to a pipe smoking gentleman at the rail and a cute blonde ball of fire facing them. Some of my friends are aboard And I don't want to be seen with you. Look, you may be your highness, Millicent Burke Ashby to those snoots, but you're still just Milly Spangler to me. You overstuffed social climber. Why, you insufferable little upstart. I'll do nothing. I'll give him a good show like this. You Span. You take me away from here. I think I'm going to. I'm nuts. Well, what are you staring at, buster? Haven't you ever seen a red Jersey sweater before? How do you do? Yeah, that sweater plus that right hook of yours adds up to quite an exhibition. You must belong to Julius. He was my uncle. But now. Wait, don't tell me. You're in his will, too. Then you're Philip Marlo. Yeah, I got him three days in, the coolest. And I'm an heir. Who are your two friends? Millicent Burke Ashby, my half sister, a professional snob. I'm gonna get mad enough. Have to kill one of these days a jerk. With her is Bennett Haynes, a cousin not enough times removed. They are also heirs. Which still leaves two more. Yeah, an old geezer who collects butterflies and that blockhead Roderick, who passed for secretary and companion to Uncle Julius. Yeah, I know Roderick. And what do you pass for, Nicky? As if I could. You can't. Ever been a Nick's Bar and Grill on La Brea Marlow? Well, I'm Nick. No kidding. And if this inheritance hadn't come along, I'd have lost my shirt. Boy, I'm really in a money jam. And Uncle Julius is saving the day for me. Yeah, but he had to die to do it. Well, sure. That's the only way he ever would. I wrote and asked him for a $10,000 loan once. Got a check back in the return mail, but it was signed by Alexander Hamilton. So I came out here to Catalina to see him, but he'd already left for Iceland. I spent a week by myself painting his launch for amusement. Then I went home again without a cent. He was a charmingly whimsical old man. By the way, where's his house? Over on the deserted side of the island, naturally. Naturally. The only way to get to it is by launch. Roderick's gonna meet us when we dock at Avalon. Oh, fine. You mean we'll be stuck at Spangler's old house all night? Is that bad, Phil? Quite lovely in a lot of ways. Two hours later, we docked at Avalon. The clouds that had been on the horizon were now overhead and looking very soggy. Roderick, the late Mr. Spangler, secretary in a striped silk shirt, gold Hickok cufflinks, polka dot bow tie and derby, was waiting for us with a launch. And after we had all shivered through another spray splashed wave bucking hour and a half, we finally pulled into a small cove. A house squatted alone on a point of rocks a hundred practically vertical feet above the water. And as we laboriously made our way up to it, the rains came. Julius Spangler would have loved it. When the door closed behind us, everyone dashed for the nearest fireplace. Except me. I was cornered by a septuagenarian with a shock of white hair, a scraggly yellow mustache, and spectacles so thick they looked like shot glasses with horn rims. He rolled up in a wheelchair, which he handled like it was a hot rod, skidded to a stop and shoved a fistful of brandy out at me. Howdy, young fellow. This, I figured, was the butterfly collecting cousin, Matthew Spangler. Better have a slug of this before pneumonia sets in. Well, sir, I suppose you're here for the reading of cousin Julius's will. Yeah, yeah, so am I. Wouldn't miss it for the world. He's leaving me his collection and implied you butterflies. You know I don't like money just but figures. Yes, sir. Been an entomologist for 50 years. Lepidopterous for 40. I've got specimens of 12,000 species. Only a few thousand left to go. Practically nothing. You keep mine. Here, have a cigar. Thank you, no. I, I. Go on, go on, go on. It's the best. Save it for later when you got something to celebrate. Oh, there's Roderick. He'll show you around. I want to go meet these young ladies. So long, son. I'll see you. Out of the way, Roderick. Hey, hey, hey, watch it. Crazy wheelchair jockey almost ran me down. Well, Mr. Marlow, it's nice to have you with us. Yeah, yeah, I'll bet. Look, Roderick, why did Julius stick me in his will along with all his relatives? I don't know. Maybe he was nuts. You can say that again. Keeping all his junk, for instance. Junk? Why, these are trophies. That burnt match there was used in the first hot foot. Julius perfected that gag in 1903. Spangler contribution to American Culture. Well, get you. What did you ever do? Wait. Wise guy. This one's even better. He panicked the whole city with this morning newspaper headline here. Hmm. Report of baby snakes in city water System False. Yeah. He tells them there's nothing to it and they still blow their tops. That's tremendous, huh? Yeah. Yeah. Quaint Julius was right. You got no sense of humor. The lawyer Darwin will read the will in 30 minutes, so be ready. I passed the half hour at a window with Nicky watching the rain slash at the glass. And at 8:00 on the button, the library door swung open and Darwin summoned the six of us into the room. As we sat down, the lawyer chewed his way through the legal preliminaries for the first time. It was a tense hush. A half a million dollars changing hands was an impressive occasion. And what was more impressive was that I might get some of it. I even caught myself wondering about inheritance taxes. Darwin completed the introduction of the will. Yes, it will bring us up to the disposition of the real and personal property of Julius Spangler, who passed away this light. March 26, 1949. Oh, poor old Julius. I can't believe he's really gone. Millicent, you know. Oh, he was a darling beneath it all. Bennett. Poor, lonely, dear Uncle Julius. Oh, quiet, quiet. Get on with it, you old relic. Read it. Yes, go on, please. Yes, very well. First, to my dear cousin Matthew, I leave my cyanide jar, the silk net and the collection of nymphalydia. Good old Judas. I knew he'd do it, bless his old bones. Yes. Well, to Philip Marlow, intrepid shamus. Oh, that's a private detective, I think. Yes, with no sense of humor. 10,000 empty beer bottles worth 5 cents apiece. Clean. These aren't. Yes, well, for this I skipped Ensenada. I should learn. Phil, I'm so sorry. Nicky, what did you expect? Really? Millicent, be quiet. Go ahead, Darwin. What about us? His real heirs. Yes, well, well. To Millicent Burke Ashby, Granny's $50,000, which is Uncle Jewel, which is the value of a fish market at Central Northrop Streets on the condition that she personally operate this market for one year. Oh, good heavens. I think I'm going to feed them. So shut up, Matthew. Go on, Darwin. Am I next? Yes, you are. You are. Yes, yes. $75,000. And. And a dog sled. Dog sled? What. What's that for? Why, to get your claim. You see, the money is the assayed minimum value of a gold claim at Point Anxiety, Alaska, which. Which it says here, you must develop with your own hands. That doddering old fool. I'll fight this travesty of a will through every caught in the street. He'll never get away with this. Oh, wait a minute. You've never worked for anything in your life. Bennett. What was that? Oh, you two got no more Than you deserved. Why, what about me, Darwin? I've worked at least. Well, Ms. Spangler, I believe you. You better sit down. To my grand niece Nicola, who has learned how to work hard for what she wants, I leave my Sincere congratulations and $1. Oh, no, he wouldn't. I. I need money now. And finally, all the remainder of my property, real and personal, I bequeath to a most genteel, brilliant and loyal man. My secretary, Roderick D. Driscoll. Now ain't that sweet of the old man. Oh my. That's over $300,000 to this baboon here. He'll never get it. I'll call my lawyer. He'll fight you. Here. Oh, this is horrible. It's too bad, baby. Well, you can have my $500 fortune in old beer bottles. Me for Ensenada. Oh, what's so funny, Matthew? He got what he wanted, Mickey. Let him laugh. I'll say I did. Wow. Shut up. Shut up. Matthew, stop it. Matthew, you're hysterical. Hysterical. I sure am, kiddo. But Matthew, get a load of this. We all stood there with our mouths hanging open as the old invalid leaped to his feet, tipped over his wheelchair, made a grab for a shock of white hair with one hand and ripped it off. It was a wig and a good one. With the other hand he tore the phony yellow mustache off his lip. And still laughing like a ticklish hyena, he identified himself as the one and only Julius Spangler, alive and in the flesh. Yes, this is the crowding achievement of my career. Look at you. Look at your silly faces. I wasn't going to give it away till tomorrow, but I couldn't hold it back. Ooh, this is rich. The best gag we ever pulled. Right, Roderick? Roderick? Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, right. This is humiliating. I'm calling the firm at once. You're mad, Julius. Absolutely insane. Why? Why? Because you can't stand the spell of fish. What about you, Marlow? Did I get the last laugh on you or didn't I? Eh? You did. You're still nothing but a mixed up jerk, Julius. Wonderful. But I want to see you mixed up with those dirty beer bottles. Wash the labels off and get a nickel back. You know, I'd like to break every one of them across the bridge of your nose. Funny man. That's what I like, a good sport. How about it, Nicky? Isn't it funny? Not fun. What do you mean? I sat in at the reading of my own will. So now I know what you really think of me. Not quite, you don't. Because I Think this, you vixen. Spit on me. How dare you? I'll kill you. No, you don't. Spangler, stop it. You lay a hand on her, I'll flatten you in spite of your years. That goes for you too, Roderick. Stay back. None of you can take a joke. Look after these fools, Roderick. Give them anything they want. I'm going to have a good laugh all by myself. After the mastermind of the impractical joke had guff, fought his way out of the room, Roderick took his life in his hands and invited everyone to coffee and brandy. But the zest had gone out of the erstwhile ears like the snap from a second. So without as much as a backward glance, they all went their separate ways. Their rooms all but Marlow. I drank coffee and brandy and since the rain had stopped, tried for 20 minutes to threaten, bribe and argue Roderick out of a way back to Avalon. But he swore it was impossible. And I was about to swear back at him when we heard it. We ran to the French doors at the end of the room and out. Millicent was on the walk outside, her hands clamped against the mouth, tearing down at the rocks near the surging water 80ft below. Mrs. Ashby, what happened? What is it? Medicine. What's the matter? It's Julius. He's. He was down there. He. He must have fallen. Yeah, the battery was pushed by somebody who couldn't take a joke. In just a moment we will return to the second act of the Adventures of Philip Marlowe. But first, it stands to reason it's a proven fact, if we all work together to produce more per man, per machine, per hour, every one of us will gain from the cooperation. This is the American economic system. It operates for the benefit of all the people we can and should cooperate for better jobs, higher incomes, more of the good things of life. For your free copy of the booklet the Miracle of America, write Box 10, Times Square Station, New York City. Now, with our star, Gerald Moore, we return to the second act of Philip Marlowe and tonight's story, the Last laugh. It was 80ft from Spangler's balcony to the ugly jumble of sharp black rock that lined the shore. It was there, minutes after Millicent's all out scream, that Roderick and I found the broken body of the man whose rocker slab still seemed to be tangled in the wind around us. And when we turned our eyes up from the depth at our feet back to the balcony above, we could barely make out the cross piece of the porch rail still dangling at a crazy angle from Its single remaining support with all the ominous silence of a gallows. Gee, Mr. Marlow, I can't believe that he's gone and that all this really happens. Mr. Marlow, what are you looking at? Up there on the balcony. There's someone moving, Roderick. Which makes this a good time to start counting noses. Let's go. What about Millicent? Shouldn't we look after her? No. No, for the time being. Come on. Come on, Roderick. I want the festival us way over those side stairs there. They lead us back up to the balcony because right now I'm in one big hurry. There's nobody here, Marlow. Are you sure you got. Hold it. Hold it. Somebody's coming. Get back away from the rail, boy. It's Bennett Haynes. Yeah, I'm very interested in the spot where that cross piece came loose from the top of that post. What's he doing there now? I mean, the way he's scratching something across the top of it. The gentleman, Roderick, has forgotten that it rained. He's trying to strike a match on wet wood. Mr. Haynes, would you like to use my thumbnail? It's dry. Why, Marlow, what are you and Roderick doing here? It's called spying. And you, Mr. Haynes? I am here, Marlow, because I think it's very strange that this accident should have happened less than an hour after Julius Spangler left a room full of people who hated him. Which, incidentally, included you. Yes, but I know that I had nothing to do with this. Now, here. A couple of matches for that stellar thumbnail. Don't go too close to the edge, Marlow. Thanks, Roderick. I won't. I'll only go close enough. Marlo, if you're staring at that mark across the top of the post, stop wasting your time. I just made it with that match that wouldn't light on wet wood, remember? That mark is not what I'm staring at. It's this green one here on the edges of the top of the post. A mark. That could mean somebody pried the cross piece loose with an object that was covered with green paint. All of which points up two things, huh? First, that someone murdered Spangler by loosening this rail. And second. But I've still got a couple of noses left to count. One belongs to a lawyer named Darwin, and the other, the fancy owner of Nick's Bar and Grill. What's that? It's Millicent. There's no trouble. Come on. Follow the leader with me out in front. Back down the wooden stairs and over to the spot where Millicent Burke Ashby the tailored lady was sprawled over a lot of soft ground, unhurt, but coming apart at the seams in more ways than one. I sent Bennett Haynes off to find Darwin and then help Millicent to her feet. Shook well and waited for results. Millicent. Millicent. Makes sense. Come on, take it to the top. William, tell us what happened. Yeah, I saw her running away from the house. House? Go on. She was running towards the water. And when you tried to stop her, she knocks you down? Yes. Yes, she. She slapped me. Said I should keep my mouth shut. Did she say why? No, she Just something about green paint. What about it? Come on, Millicent, think hard. What about the paint? I. I don't know. What does this mean? Marlo? We got to get to Nikki Spangler fast. Roderick. She was headed down toward the water. How many boats are tied up there? Just a launch in a little. Yeah. No, wait a second. There's the outboard. She used to run that herself. All right, then we split. You for the launch and me for the outboard. Now, where is it? We're down there. And I bought you behind the trees. But you better let me take care of that, Marlow. It's stock and slippery in there and I know my way around. Oh, thanks. I'll take my chances. At the moment, I'm very anxious to meet up with that lady again in person. Now, you get to the launch. And you, Millicent, back to the house. Whoever finds her, yell good and loud. The boat shed was a one room bungalow on stilts. When I started inside slowly, unsure of both my footing and the company on hand, I was suddenly very sorry that I'd left my.38 back in LA. But in the next minute, I began to breathe easier because just visible ahead of me was a Spangler outboard. When I got closer, I saw that it was empty and I heard somebody behind me. I turned just in time to see a thick, crooked branch coming at my head fast. Oh. Oh. Oh. I couldn't. I couldn't tell if the warm blood trickling from the cut just below my ear was. Was from where the branch had hit my head or from where my head had hit the planking. But it didn't matter, because either way, it hurt. I. I got to my feet slowly. I reached into my pocket for one of the matches that Haynes had given me in the faint hope that a little light might reveal something about whoever had been guilty of relaxing me like a chocolate soldier in a Turkish bath. But then, even as I was about to strike the match I stopped. Framed at one side of the open doorway was the silhouette of a man. I stood where I was and waited motionless while he slowly took a step toward me. And another. When he started on his third, I grabbed him. Let go of me. Twisting your arms, Owen? Just in case you're still carrying a thick branch. I haven't got anything in my hand. All right. Now what are you doing here? Come on, barrister. At the moment you might witness our talk. Why are you here? I spoke to military. Listen how Mr. Marlow is. Is the witness relieved? Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about your arm, Darwin. But the last visitor here wasn't empty handed. This time I wanted to be ready. Do you have any idea who the visitor was, Mr. Marlowe? No. No, I don't. I was just gonna strike this match to see if I. Oh. Oh, my head. Oh, here, here, here, Mr. Marlon, let me strike it for you. Thanks. I doubt if we'll do any good now. There. You see anything? No, no, nothing. Well, it was a long shot anyway. And what? What do you see, Mr. Marlow? What is it, Darwin? Something I should have seen a long time ago. By that I mean that the launch of Nicky Spangler is my next stop. Goodbye, friend. Thanks for the interruption. It may save. It was a 440 with plenty of obstacles and no lights from the boat shed down to the launch. But even as I got there, out of breath with the shooting pains in my head making a dartboard out of the lining of my scalp, I knew who had murdered Julia Spangler. But I didn't know where the wise and where force of the green paint that had everybody running. A minute later, I quietly climbed aboard the launch and started slowly to the stern where I could hear voices. I knew that the explanation wasn't far off. When I was close enough to see Nikki standing in the reflected light of the moonwash, I didn't have to hear anything, because clenched in her hands and held close to her side, was the answer to the marks I'd seen on the post on Spangler's balcony. It was a crowbar, the business end of it covered with green paint. Opposite her was the reason for the fear in her voice. It was the man who had killed the practical joker, Julius Spangler's ever faithful secretary, Roderick. You're being awful stubborn, Nicky. Which is something you must have got from your late grand uncle. Now give me that crowbar. Why? So you can get rid of it? Me too. And then return to the others and mourn the loss of your employer. Sure. I just love everyone to think that I miss him terribly when the truth is that I kill him. I hated him and his stupid jokes every minute of every day that I worked for him. Hated him, Nikita. Way I hate you when you're snooping ways. Don't give me that trouble. Don't. Over, Nicky. Don't move, Roderick. I'll blow your head off. Marlon. Phil. Thank goodness. I'll get back. Buster. Get away from her and stay in one place or I'll shoot, so help me. Marlow. He did it. He killed Julius because he hated him. Had my chance at a half a million bucks, right, Broderick? I don't know what you're talking about. Then. Oh. Oh. Oh, my. What is it, Marlow? Nothing, honey. I. I walked into a branch that our friend here was holding a little while ago. I still don't know what you're talking about. Now, make it real plain, Roderick. You killed Julius Spangler because you wanted to turn his greatest practical joke into a bonanza for yourself. You wanted that screwy Willis tan. Nobody else was in on the gag, not even the lawyer. So nobody else would ever know that it was only a gag. Nor would anybody care that some wacky old cousin who liked butterflies accidentally fell to his death. But Marlow Julius was killed after we all knew the whole thing was only a practical joke. Yeah. Yeah, but that wasn't part of the original plan, Nicky. Julius wasn't going to unmask himself in the joke about the will until the next morning. Isn't that also correct, Roderick? Yeah. Yeah, that's. That's correct, smart guy. I was gonna get everything. But when that fail, I still wanted him to die. And I would have gotten away with that if this dame here hadn't been so curious about those green markings on the railing. And Roderick, if the same dame hadn't also remembered a crowbar that she'd once built. Some green paint. I heard enough. Yeah. Hey, for the time being, I, I, I guess. Guess you have. Oh, Marlow. Marlo, it's your head again, isn't it? Yeah, isn't it? The poor boy. No, you don't. Rodrick. Stay back. Marlo. Marlo, you all right? Are you? Not exactly, honey. Did you get him? Yeah. With the crowbar, no less. Oh. But you better give me your gun in case he wakes up suddenly. I can't. I can't. I haven't got one. Baby, you don't have one, but you're gonna pass out. What'll I do with him? Oh, baby, there's only, only one thing to do Let him have it again. Marlo. Marlo. Marlo. Are you all right now? Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm all right. What's going on? Oh, Nikki. Nikki. And before you can say, where am I? I'll tell you, honey. This is Avalon, a lovely spot on the island of Santa Catalina. It's now 2:00 in the morning, your head isn't so much as fractured, and you're sitting up in a chair that belongs to the nice lady who rented you this room at a reasonable price. And the others? All back at the place. Except, of course, Roderick. Last I heard of him, he was still answering questions for policemen. Which, by the way, brings me right to the point. This I got to know, Phil. How did you figure that Roderick was guilty? White wood, Nikki. Wet wood that should have been dry was up on Julius smelling his balcony. The top of the post that had green moss on it was wet, even though the tight fitting cross piece that rested over it should have kept it dry. So obviously the rail was pried loose just before the will was read while it was still raining. How do you figure, Marlowe? Well, because it had stopped raining and the moon was shining by the time Matthew identified himself as Julius Spangler. But no one would have wanted to kill Uncle Julius without having heard the will. Nobody but Roderick, who was in on the whole joke and knew that he was going to get 300,000 bucks out of the phony will. So he merely pushed the old man off the balcony. Made it look like an accident. Yeah. And. And you doped all this out just like that? Well, no, not just like that, Nikki. I finally I caught on. And now, sweetheart, in spite of the bandage, I think a little stroll along the beach is going to do me a lot of good. You know, I'm officially on vacation. Rest and recreation for two full days. @ least here in Avalon, Maybe. Where else? See you later, Nikki. I got outside and down to the pretty strip of beach that runs along behind the spot where the steamer docks. I felt a lot better. I sat down on the moon drenched sand and relaxed for the first time that night. As I sat there, I reached into my breast pocket for a cigarette, but instead came out with the expensive cigar that Matthew Spangler had given me. It wasn't until I had lit it and was puffing along that I suddenly remembered that Matthew Spangler had really been Julia. So I got rid of the cigar just in time. I wasn't sure, but maybe Julius Spangler, wherever he was, was having the last laugh. The Adventures of Philip Marlowe Created by Raymond Chandler star Gerald Moore and are produced and directed by Norman McDonnell. Script is by Meldanelli, Robert Mitchell and Gene Levitt. Featured in the cast were Alan Reed as Julia Spangler and Doris Singleton is Nikki with Anne Morrison, John Dainer, Paul Duboff and Peter Leeds. The special music is by Richard Orant. Be sure and be with us again next week when Philip Marlow says the partner from Mexico City, the stranger dead in Nevada and the man with the cauliflower ear all added up to a corpse on a concrete floor. But I couldn't figure why until I'd found out that there was one name above all that had to be remembered. Tonight, CBS's great hour long Saturday night fun show, sing it Again will be back on the air after a week's absence. Be sure to be around later tonight when Sing It Again returns with its phantom voice, mystery and its riddle songs which pay off in wonderful prizes. This is Roy Rowan speaking. Now stay tuned for the case of the red headed bank robber. Tonight's gangbusters drama which follows immediately over most of these same CBS stations. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Broadway's my beat. From Times Square to Columbus Circle. The gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway is my beat with Larry Thor as detective Danny Clover. When the trade winds blow in from the Hudson and springtime nuzzles against Broadway, it's a season of promise. It's the time for weather talk and what shortstop's holding out for what reason against what team? The good time. The man at the orange juice stand whistles while he shellacks his coconut and chops his onion thin. The fella next to you at the counter gives you half his newspaper. And the blond you met last night calls the office and tells you not to be angry. Have a smile. It's that time of the year. No smiles. Where I was corridor where the world ends. Where death is cataloged on the other side of a swinging door anteroom to morgue. The man in vigil beside me as soon as I read in the paper about your people finding the girl I had to see, I have to look at her. Mr. Clover, I doubt whether this is the girl you're looking for. Well, Mary varden is about 32. She has dark hair that she combs straight back. I know. Mister. We've got missing's person, aren't we? For a week you've been coming here and the color of her eyes is blue. She's a very lovely person. Yes. Now, Mr. Clover. Mm. This girl, this Girl, you're gonna show me now. Not identified. Found in a cheap room. Asphyxiation, faulty gas fixture. Probably accidental. Oh, what would Mary be doing in a cheap room? I'm trying to tell you. Well, please, please, I have to say here. All right. I never expected to meet anybody like Mary in my whole life. I've been coming to New York regularly. But this trip I met her, that was two weeks ago. And I asked her to marry me at the end of the first week, and she said yes. And then all of a sudden she disappeared. That was a week ago. That's why I've been coming down here every day to see if. Okay, Mr. Darcy. Wait. Wait just a minute, Donald, please don't let it be mary. Go ahead, Mr. Clover. Well? Oh, the poor girl. Yes, sir. No, no, truly. Yes, truly. I am sorry for this poor girl. And I'm thankful she's not married. You must understand. Of course. Annie. Yes, what is it? Sergeant Morgan just called Homicide Alley, back of West Third. Here. Here's the address. Yeah. You all right, Mr. Dorsey? Well, I'm all right, but I wonder. What? Would anybody mind if I just waited outside? They'll be bringing other people into this place, won't they? Wait, if you want. They'll be bringing other people in. Get me a squad car. Sergeant. Oh, hi, Danny Marvin. What about him? Beaten. Face, Head. Let me get him downtown. We'll probably find other marks. Looks like that kind of effort was made on him. Now shine the flash. You'll see what I mean. Yeah, that brick over there. A little ways away from where his hand's reaching out. What about it? Blood stains on it. I figure it's what finished the effort. The thing that killed him. Where? His hands reaching out. Did you find anything that, uh. Huh. A couple things. Roll of bills in his pants pocket. 50 bucks all told. So robbery's out. Let's see. Cigarettes, breath sweeteners in his coat. Inside, breast pocket, this wallet. Identification card named Tyler Gosden. Address lane Hotel, West 39th Street. Case of accident. Notify. That part's blank. You'll finish up here. I'm not gonna. I'll make the time for it. You just buzz me anytime. Ms. Tankersley. Hold the phone, Ms. Tankersley. There's someone at the desk, sir. Just sign the register. It's right there by your elbow. Of course, Ms. Tankersley. I'll bring it up myself. Bye. Sir. I said the registrar. Police. I want some information. Well, can it wait a bit? You see. Let Ms. Tankersley wait, shall we? You sound pretty terse. You try it too, huh? Some information about a guest in your hotel. Which guest? Tyler Gosden. Oh, what mad thing has he done now, huh? Last week it was dressing as one of our bellhops. And. Look, all I can say is that that wonderful couple who came here to spend their silver anniversary will never come here for their golden. Mr. Gosden was a prankster. He thought so. If you call using brown paper bags filled with water as bombs funny. If you call climbing into that potted palm over there. Mr. Gosden is dead. He was found beaten to death. Oh, well, please understand. What? His funnies were never offensive, sir. At least not to me. I certainly had no reason to dislike the man so, sir. Well, sir, I wouldn't know that. I stand here behind the desk and offer the register and answer the house phone and do like that when I want a boy. Front. Never. Never mind boy. I was just showing the. That's all I do. All you've told me so far about Mr. Galsden is that he was a practical joker. Well, that's all I know about him. He did these funny things and everybody loved him. Who were his friends? Well, he was friendly to everybody, made everybody laugh. He had two very dear friends, lady friends who called often. And when he was out, they always left their number. So often that I think I know it by memory. That's good. That's very good. Here, I'll write it down for you so it won't slip your mind. There. He'll really be missed. Mr. Gosden will, by those of us here, sadly, use the house phone for a call to headquarters. Check a phone number against an address and in a little while be given it. 58th street off First Avenue, near the east river. And outside and city swelling now with night, the early night, the span to pace solitude, desire against a later time when somewhere a trumpet will pierce, a woman will giggle and full night will burst open. But now the time of easier rhythms the smiling search and ride it uptown to a quieter street of river sounds and river longings and a house softly lit, softly admitted to. Please come in and into a room lamp shaded in pink and fringed silk and couch velvet and rose pink. And in corners, cylinders of hand painted glass holding sprays of flowering peach branches, pink blossoms withered and in a carved cabinet radio tuned to the gentler air channels. And the woman of the house also. Oh, I could dance. I could dance, I could dance. Mrs. Pfeiffer. Dinah, the other name. So I don't know Dinah. And we'll get along famously. Oh, dance. I really could this music is. You understood, didn't you? You understood I'm from the poor and you are called Danny. And you don't frighten me one wit, you don't. You and your police. I'm a deserted woman, you know, and I don't frighten easily. Look. Seven years now. Deserted, that Mr. Pfeiffer inveigles me into marriage. A glorious week of it. Then absconds with my heart, my dreams. Traitor. Deserter. And I, a woman alone. Going on seven years now. You haven't found Mr. Pfeiffer yet, have you? That's what I've been trying to tell you. We found someone else. Tyler Gosden. Tyler? That idiot. That clown? That love. What's the foolish fella done now? Mercy me. If bail's required, I'll be on to half. I found him in an alley. He'd been beaten to death. Tyler laugh a minute. Tyler beaten to death. Murdered. I'll cry. I really will. You see, I'm crying. I really am. I'm sorry. You're sorry? He was fun. Tyler did ridiculous things. Once he put on a hat of mine, one of my fans, and performed. And other times he. You're the one who's sorry. There are things I need to know about him. Things that'll help you now. I've cried for him and I've remembered him in all the ways Tyler would want to be remembered now. What more could I possibly do? His friends. People. Oh, I never knew his other friends. It was something that never stood between us. Tyler had come here and Valerie and I had rustled up a little something. Valerie? You knew about me and Tyler and you didn't know about Valerie and Tyler? Tell me. I. Valerie Moore, used to live here with me. All this pink, that was her idea. Where is she now? Well, let me finish, will you? Just a week ago. It's what we spatted over. I was so tired of all this pinky pink and day. I told her right out. She spilled a pitcher of martinis right over my head. I ordered her out of my house. You know where she is? Tyler told me. Tyler Said she had an apartment of her own on West Adia. 1924 West Adia. Deserted. That's what I am. Deserted all my life. First that Mr. Pfeiffer after a week, then Valerie, now Tyler. I'm gonna. I'm gonna. I don't know what. But I'm going. Ms. Moore. The nighttime is in full possession now. In cubicle of room with the unlocked door in the furtive dart and gleamings and probings of reflected light through a room into which fury had siphoned, had whirled, had torn apart, then stilled room where struggle had been and reflected light fall on something else. On a woman in loose robe dangling from a light fixture, head thrown back in attitude of silent scream and body turning slowly swaying gently to the refracted rhythms of full nighttime time. Night dance of woman dead. Of woman murdered. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. A new day of March opens wide over Broadway, holds in suspension its warmth, its winds, its pluming of sunlight. Then let's fall. The process has begun. The process of the seeding of pavements with spring whisperings and from the stifling platforms out of shallow light reflected from walls of stained tile, the swarm out of depths of earth where steel hurtle through pillared corridors where chill underground winds race the swarm and at subway exit pause an instant, bite a lip, lurch into the March day and farther down the street and perform into office, into shop in doorway. The day's opening flourish. Hang the night dream on the time clock and the at headquarters Sergeant Gino Tartaglia, a man with methods and devices of his own. Pardon me, Danny, but not enough sleep last night. Gino. I beg your pardon? What's to beg? You asked did I have enough sleep last night. I merely answered, that's all. Oh, well, don't mention it. I tell you, Danny, comes another spring, I am not going to place myself at disposal of Mrs. T. Mrs. Tartaglia kept you awake, is that it? First, maybe the chiffonier was on the wrong side. The bedroom maybe should be on the other side. So get up, hoist it to the other side. As I do not wish a debate. Then, of course, suddenly the bed is in the wrong spot. Should maybe be by the window so a lady could peek out and look on the moon in case she cannot sleep and so desires so move the bed she knows come spring, Tartaglia suddenly emerges from his cocoon, sprouts the mussels every spring with Mrs. T. And always at night when a fella. And now you're awake, huh? Naturally you think so? If not now, where else? As follows concerning the deceased woman, Valerie Moore, whom you found hanging a slight record. Oh, in December of last year, a matter of deceased disturbing the peace in a Third Avenue bar. Pleaded guilty, paid fine, was released. In May of last year, an altercation with a neighbor. Seemed Ms. Moore had lost her house key, was going around beating Our neighbors. Doors. Let me in. She yodeled, booked, admonished, released. Such slight goings on back a period of several years. Nothing, baby. Anything else? What else is that? Up until a year ago, was employed as clerk accountant in the mail order firm of Metropolitan Products Distribution, Inc. Lower Manhattan, West Third Street. What else is? Has been living with a Mrs. Dinah Pfeiffer until about a week and a half ago. Where you found her last night, neither of these two ladies. One deserted, one divorced, employed according to routine checks made by Detective Mugavin. As of now, nothing else, huh? Who says this is what else? That up until his being beaten to death in an alley, Tyler Gosden was employed also at Metropolitan Products. District Manager Gino. A squad car will be there by the time you walk downstairs. Bye, Danny. Ride the morning now to 12th Street. Find an address, find a building directory. Just inside the doorway. Metropolitan Products Distribution, Incorporated. Four flights out past the dealer in stamps and old coins and through the glass door, the gray hair and serenity of a small man seated with a book and a smile. At Next Flight Collection Agency. Large man, ledger and no smile. And upstairs again, Body conditioning institute with sign proclaiming that a Mr. Wilkins who Military Press. £812 at the Chicago World's Fair. Will do just the thing for your particular problem with Mr. Wilkins. Patented process. Up again. Fourth flight. The long loft fitted with many desks and people. The young woman asks name and mission. Be directed to the office at the end of the room and be told by the time you get there, you'll be announced. Surpass the desks and the people. The motto stacked to the wall, having to do with thinking, watching clocks and savings. Office walk in. My name is Jeffrey Hopkins, Mr. Clover. Please be seated. Thank you. It's about Tyler Gosling, of course. That's right. Nobody needed him. Oh, let's be honest now, shall we? Sure. This was his office. District manager. I said let's be honest. That's why I'm smiling. Go on. Now it's my office. Now that he's been. Tyler Gosden was, let me see. A despicable man. Yes, I think that's the word he played. Practical jokes I've heard. Such as calling me on a Sunday afternoon and telling me I've been transferred to Vincennes, Indiana. I'd pack and he'd call back. I've heard all about that, Mr. Hopkins. Right. Now maybe you can tell me something about Tyler Gosden and a woman named Valerie Moore. Yes, I read of her dying, too. I'm sorry about Valerie No. You knew her, too? After she left our employ, she came up here a few times, Waited for Tyler. I did my best to entertain her. You liked her? How does a married man like another woman? An attractive, vital woman. One that circumstance demands that all he can do for is demonstrate how to take apart a key puzzle. I admired her. She was honest and she and Gosden were friends. And what else can you tell me? The day before yesterday. Thursday. Yes. Arthur Ellis was in the office. Who? Mr. Ellison, one of our salesmen from Richmond. He said he had once met Valerie through Gosden and he wanted her address. I got it out of Gosden's desk and gave it to him. This man's name was Arthur Ellison. Do you know where I can find him? We've got an arrangement with the Ruxton Hotel. Rates. You might try there. I think that's all the help I can be. Please excuse me, Mr. Clover. Howdy. Hello. What can I do for you, friend? You Arthur Ellison? That's right, I am. I'm from the police. Name's Danny Clover. I guessed it. I was wondering whether to go back to Richmond. Just sit here and wait. Come on in. Thank you. Didn't you wonder about coming down to police headquarters and tell us what you know? A little bit. Then I figured, why rush things? Maybe you could clear this up without me. You were out with Valerie Moore last night, weren't you? Yes, sir. Okay, let's start from there, Mr. Olson. Well, I. You what? Got in touch with her. Why? A good sport. Nice lady to take out when you're in town. Lot of fun. Met her once through Tyler Gosden. After that, I made it my business to get in touch with her when I hit New York. You hit New York Thursday? Yes, sir. Went up to the office. Worked for Metropolitan Products. Yeah, I know. Went up there, checked in, picked up some new samples. Also Valerie's new phone number. Called her, made a date for the evening. And you tell me about it up here, Right where you're sitting, she said. Told her a few jokes I heard on the road. I had a few drinks. Valerie said, come on, let's do the town. I said, hold your horses, honey. I asked a friend up, she says, friend? I said, hold your horses, honey. How'd you ask a friend up, Mr. Ellison? Sure. Old friend from the road. Salesman of notions. Ran into him in a restaurant we salesmen like to eat at. Told him to stop up for a drink. Who's your friend? Johnny. Johnny Dorsey. What's the matter? Nothing. Go on. Well, funny thing happened. Johnny come up all right. Sweet guy like him. Lonely kind of guy, mostly. You should have seen. Seen what? Well, he comes up, and soon as he gets in the room, sees Valerie. She busts out laughing, screaming, rolling on the floor, laughing. What did Dorsey do? Just stood there. I guess. I said something funny like, I've been waiting in the morgue. Then Valerie really laughed. And finally she got out of control of herself and said to Johnny, boy, is the joke ever on you, Johnny? Turned around, walked out. What about you and Valerie? Finished the drinks, went to Florshaw. I left her at her place. I come back here. That's it. In here, Mr. Darcy. Oh, thank you. You remember Lieutenant Clover, don't you? Oh, of course. Hi, Lieutenant. I'm all right. Sit down, Mr. Dorset. Thank you. Detective Muggleman tells me that yesterday you waited a couple of hours at the morgue, then you left. Well, one woman was brought in, but she was older, wasn't Mary. What did you do for the rest of the day, Mr. Dorsey? I wandered. I looked into the crowds. For Mary, huh? I'll always look for her. Tell us about Mary, Mr. Dorsey. I've already told you. Do it again. What do you want to know? How you met her. Kind of woman she is, your plans about marriage, things like that. Well, you know, in my line of business, that's traveling. You meet people. And Mary was different. How Shy. She was gentle. I found that there was a woman I could talk to. One who had listened to me. You know, I've been a long time on the road, and that's never happened to me before. So you asked her to marry you? A half hour after I met her, I made up my mind I was going to. And a week later, I did. But you see. Say what? Well, a man like me, he's always looking. Every person I meet, if a man, I say to myself, can this man be my friend? And if a woman can, she love me. And if she can, then I can love her. Sure, we understand that, Mr. Dorsey, but a couple of things you've sloughed over. Well, no. No, I haven't. Like how you met Mary Varden. I told you. Yeah, but you didn't mention Tyler Gosden's name when you told us. Well, I didn't think I. Oh, let's get off of Mr. Dorsey. Gosne been murdered. I know it, you know it. So let's have some details, huh? Well, the only thing I know is Mary's gone. What do you mean, gone? Well, she's vanished. I can't find her. You know that yeah, we thought we knew that. But not anymore. Danny. Yeah. Let's take a walk. Mr. Dorsey. Around this corner, Mr. Dorsey. Well, Mr. Dorsey knows his way. You think you found Mary? You tell us. You tell us. That's the woman you were going to marry. Yes, that's. I've seen it happen a lot of times, Mr. Dorsey. The murderer stands where you're standing, says he's sorry. I'm not sorry. Okay. I'm not sorry. I'm not. Let's go out in the hall. Let's sit there and talk for a minute. Sit down, Mr. Dorsey. Some water? Mugabe? Yeah. It all goes back to Tyler gosden, doesn't it, Mr. Darcy? The kind of man he was. Practical joker. He was the kind of man. Here's your water, Mr. Dorsey. Thank you. Thank you very much. Well, Mr. Dorsey, you want to tell us about it now? We'll help you. You met that woman through that sterling, humorous Tyler Gosling. That woman, Valerie Moore, Big joke. Was introduced to you as the sweet, shy, lovable lady you could talk to. Mary Varden. I waited so many years. I thought that finally I'd. Yeah, we know. Valerie Moorer. Who was just posing as a woman named Mary Varden. Practical joke instigated by a prankster. Yes. They had their joke and now they're dead. Because you killed them. They had their joke. I fell in love with a woman who never existed. She disappeared and I looked for her. And I found her drinking with another man. And she laughed at me. And she told me the joke was on me. And it was. That was Thursday night. And Friday morning you killed Galston. Friday evening, you killed Valerie. That's a real busy Friday, Mr. Dorsey. You don't play jokes with a man's life. That's all. A man's life. What else has a man got? I guess many people like me, they realize early that their life is over. But they keep on living. They hope and they look. And in between, they just go on and try to laugh at anybody or make jokes. That's why I meant it, and I want you to believe it. For what I did to those two, I'm not sorry. Let's go, Mr. Darcy. It's the gathering place of all the sleepless nights, this Broadway. And all the unwept tears. A place to come, to erase what's happened. Start all over, make a memory. The street is littered with odds and ends. Fit them together any way you want. It's Broadway. The gaudiest, the most violent. The lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway. My beat. Broadway's My Beat stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover with Charles Calvert as Tartaglia and Jack Crucian as Muggipan. The program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. In Tonight's story, Howard McNear was heard as Mr. Dorsey. Featured in the cast were Mary Jane Croft, Byron Kane, Rye Bilsbury and Paul Freeze. Bill Anders speaking. Broadway Is My Beat has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. We just heard Sherlock Holmes, box 13, Philip Marlowe and Broadway Is My Beat that will do it for this week's show. Thanks so much for joining me. I hope you'll be back next week for 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 out on Thursdays. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show on Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com meansts OTR. I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio crime Fighters. But 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 antagonism are exploited daily by quacks and adventurers whose followers make up the irresponsible lunatic fringe of American life. Refuse to listen to or spread rumors against any race or religion. Help to stamp out prejudice in our country. Let's judge our neighbors by the character of their lives alone and not on the basis of their religion or origin.