← Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Down These Mean Streets (Old Time Radio Detectives)
Episode 625 - Clothes-Minded (Let George Do It, Philo Vance, Richard Diamond, The Saint, & Johnny Dollar)
02:33:15
They say clothes make the man, but they also make mysteries for this week’s roster of radio detectives. George Valentine hunts a killer where the only clue is his distinctive attire in “Death Wears a Gay Sport Jacket” from Let George Do It...
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Narrator
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 with more old time radio detectives and crime solvers. This week we're putting on our Sunday best for five radio adventures that involve articles of clothing. Now, they say clothes make the man, but for our heroes today, clothes also make the mystery. First up, Bob Bailey stars as George Valentine in Death Wears a Gay Sport Jacket. An episode of Let George do it from October 18, 1948. A killer has struck four times and the only clue to his identity is the unusual jacket he wears when he commits his murders. George Valentine is on the case along with Frances Robinson as his Girl Friday Brooksie and Wally Mayer as Police Inspector Riley. Then Jackson Beck is master detective Philo Vance. In the syndicated episode the Herringbone Murder Case, the owner of a fancy dress shop is killed not long after she fires an embezzling employee. But it turns out that employee is just one of many people who had a motive for murder. We'll follow that with one of my all time favorite episodes of Richard Diamond Pride Private Detective, a case for radio Singing sleuth that centers on the theft of several Blue Surge suits. Dick Powell stars as Richard diamond and he has great chemistry with Jim Backus, Mr. Howell of Gilligan's Island. Backus plays his client, a sophisticated tailor whose wardrobe keeps getting raided. This one originally aired on ABC on February 9, 1951. Next, Vincent Price is the saint in Formula for Death. Originally aired on NBC on March 25, 1951. A tailor visits Simon Templer to deliver a new suit and the saint discovers an envelope in the pocket and a bullet hole in the back. And finally, we'll hear John Lund as Johnny Dollar in the Rochester Theft Matter. Originally aired on CBS on May 12, 1953. Johnny gets a hot lead on a cold case when a woman is shot while wearing a fur coat that was part of an unsolved burglary. A few Years later, this 30 minute episode would be expanded into the Todd Matter, a five part Johnny Dollar Adventure starring Bob Bailey, who we'll hear in just a few moments as George Valentine. He'll kick off our fashion show of foul play. Let George do it will begin right after these messages. Here's sensational news for shavers, a terrific money saving offer on Colgate Shave Cream and ever sharp Chick injector razor. Listen. 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That's why many doctors and millions of people use Ex Lax with complete confidence. Ex Lax, the laxative that helps you toward your normal regularity gently overnight. 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 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 craft. Inflation can work the same way in peace that it did in war. Prices rise when goods are scarce and people have money. Instead of making your dollars shrink by spending them needlessly when prices are high, why not make them grow with interest by investing in United States Savings bonds. Here's the way it works. 75 invested now each month in US savings e bonds will in 10 years turn into an income of $100 each month for as long a period as you bought the bond. It's as simple and as sure as that. And easiest when you use the payroll savings plan without missing a dollar. You'll be amazed how savings grow the e Bond Way. $4 for every three. 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. Standard of California, on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations throughout the west, invites you to let George do it. Death wears a gay sport jacket. Another adventure of George Valentine. Personal notice. This is my stock in trade. If you're crowded into a corner and can't fight your way out, call on me. George Valentine. Write full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, in the last month, violent death has struck four people in the Warrington Square section. Death in a gay sports jacket. I think I know who the killer is, but I can't be sure. And I'll never have a moment's peace until he's caught. The police seem to believe there's any connection between these four murders. That's why I'm hiring you in close mind. Find the key to locker 306 in the East Hempstead railroad station. The money you find there should pay your fee and expenses. It's yours whether you accept the case or not. I leave that up to your conscience, I gather, Brooksie, there's no signature. No, just a generous amount of white space on the bottom. George. And the letter's typewritten. That correspondence seems to revel in mystery. Well, here's something more specific. You might call it a postscript. Yeah. List of Warrington Square victims. Uh huh. Well, whoever wrote this, he or she didn't have to go to that trouble. Jack Pringle on the Morning Bulletin has been repeating that list in bull type every day. September 12th, Joe Barcelona, butcher. September 17th, Mrs. Adelaide Walsh, housewife. September 29th, James O' Hara, truck driver. October 18th, Nancy Cabot, fashion designer. Poor. Mm. I didn't know about Nancy Cabot, whoever she is. Hey, you know, angel, this should be a pleasure. Multiple murder? No. A client who's willing to pay off without even identifying himself. Well, that is, if there is any money in locker 306. Well, Brooksie, there doesn't have to be any mystery about that. Pacific Eliminate leaving on track 14 in five minutes. Five minutes. See? It is real money. Booksy. This stuff in here isn't watercress. No. I can recognize the pictures of some of our nicest presidents. How about this? There's 300 bucks here. But how are you going to earn that lucre, George? Or don't you have a conscience? I don't know about a conscience, angel, but I keep thinking about Nancy Cabot. Why is her name on that list? If anything has happened to her, why haven't we read about it in the papers? Valentine, believe it or not, when a crime is committed, the police somehow managed to hear about it. I told you, there's been no report about a Nancy cabinet. Okay, Lieutenant, okay. What do you make of this letter? Oh, we've been getting our share of love notes like that, too. Everybody has an idea who the man in the plaid sport jacket is. Why don't you check up on the delivery boy in our neighborhood? He likes plaid shirts. My neighbor has an uncle who isn't right in the head, and so on and so forth. Well, it's not impossible that there is a character like that floating around. It's only possible when you have a mind like Jack Pringles. Why, even I own a plaid sport jacket. Now we're getting somewhere. Oh, you're cute, Valentine. Well, after all, lieutenant, people. Look, Ms. Brooks, here's all I have to say. Then I want to forget. Joe Barcelona, butcher, has a brawl and ends up with a knife in his back. An old woman out walking her cat tells Pringle that she saw a guy in a plaid coat leaving the scene. Could be. Okay, so we're working on the case. And how about Mrs. Walsh? That was no murder. The woman was up on the roof and decided to end it off. Ah, but Pringle. Pringle digs up a neighborhood character by the name of Mallory who swears he saw the same fashion plate slinking away from the building. So Right away, she was pushed off the roof. And that leaves James o' Harrel. Yeah, I know, I know. This time, Pringle came up with a ham actor named Emmett Carey, who said the victim was shoved under a truck by the same plaid coated individual. The medical examiner says o' Hara was plastered and didn't know where he was going. Now, can you blame me if I don't see eye to eye with Pringle? What does he care if he starts to mind the crime wave as long as it builds circulation for his Roundheimer? Don't. What are you. How did you get. I just walked him. He gets steamed up like that, how do you expect to hear doors open? I don't know how you can stand it in here, Valentine, without your ear stopped. Get out of here. Now, hold on, Lieutenant. Just doing my job. Which is to repeat the same question I asked yesterday. What's being done to track down this sadistic monster in a gay sport coat? Now, look here. What's your interest in this case? Who, me? Oh, I'm always interested in the fee. Oh. Who are you working for? Well, even if I knew myself, friend, I wouldn't tell you. Oh, no offense. I just get paid to find out things. Now you found out. It's none of your business. You know, sweetheart, one of these days I'm gonna have me a girl Friday just like you. You'd be surprised how women go. For me, women take to arsenic, too, but that's no recommendation for poison. Very good, Ms. Brooks. Maybe I'm touchy, but it looks as though I'm not wanting. Oh, don't leave on our account, Pringle. We're just going in case you want to know where. Ms. Brooks has to see a lady out of cat. Young lady, it's very sweet of you to sign my petition. Oh, think nothing of it, Mrs. Winthrop. The city needs a home for stray cats. I've been waging this campaign for 20 years. Oh, to get back to Joe Barcelona. Mrs. Winthrop, how can you be so sure about the man in the sport coat? Wasn't it pretty dark that night? Oh, yes. But sometimes I do think I have the eyes of a cat. Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you think I might have some feline blood in me? Oh, I wouldn't know. Just what did you tell Mr. Prince? Oh, he asked me so many questions, Ms. Brooks. I'm certainly glad I was able to supply him the answers. Why, if there's a killer around, he may even decide he doesn't like cats. There are some people like that, you know. Well, thanks very much. Did you read what Mr. Pringle wrote about me in the paper? He called me the cat Woman. Wasn't that sweet of him? Lieutenant Riley couldn't have said I swore. You mean you're going back on your story, mister? By no means. I'm just not a swearing man. They here have one of my cards. What do you mean, what's the. If you ever feel like cussing, it's the devil and you fussy. I give on hundreds of those every day. That's swell. Swearing destroys a person's moral fiber. It's worse than drinking. And talking about drinking, can you spare a little change for a cup of coffee? And I don't know what the end is. With this out of COVID I'll be switched. You see how you can express your emotions without resorting to profanity? I'll make a mental note of that. Now, Mr. Mowry, how can you be so sure that the man you saw scuttling out of Mrs. Walsh Building after she fell to the street is one and the same as in the Barcelona case? After all, a lot of men wear plaid sport checks. Oh, no. By jinkety, when Mr. Pringle was asking me all those questions, I realized that the coat was the exact same color and blue and green plaid. I see. Okay, if that's your story, I guess I'm stuck with it. Bye, chickity. You know, Mr. Carey, I'm not a newspaper reporter. Oh, very unfortunate, Ms. Brooks. I thought you might have some occasion to talk to Mr. Pringle and remind him that when he uses my name in his stories it's spelled with two M's and two T's. Emmett Carey. Well, I'm just checking on that man you saw push Mr. O' Hallora in front of the truck. Well, I never said I actually saw this fiend do it. What I did say was that my powers of observation developed after long years in the theatre, made me spot the culprit before he could beat a hasty retreat and so lose himself in the crowd. Oh, the garment he was wearing matched exactly the coat described by Mr. Pringle in his newspaper pieces. Then there's no room for doubt? None whatsoever. It was gratifying to see my name in the tapes again. I can imagine. And you shall see it again and again, my dear, when I found just the right vehicle for my talent. Yes, yes, I'm sure of that now. I really must. You will remember to tell Mr. Pringle that there are two M's and two T's now, won't you? You don't know the time I had finding you, Ms. Kevin. But I see you did. Is there any reason why you aren't listed in the telephone directory? Yes. Privacy. Mr. Valentine, I'm curious. How did you manage to locate me? Oh, I did a little checking. I happen to know you're a fashion designer. You seem to know a great deal about me. Including the fact that you're on somebody's death list. Oh, God. Now, isn't that a bit too. Too melodramatic? I got a letter from somebody who didn't sign his name. Call that melodramatic, too? But it had you listed as the fourth victim of this prowler in a plaid jacket. I'm glad to see that it was a mistake. Can there be any doubt that I'm very much alive? Well, even saying this was a crack note, you ought to be a little more concerned. Why? Your name, Ms. Cabot. And you do live in the same neighborhood where our friend is operating. Sorry. Right now I'm more interested in watering these flowers. Mr. Valentine, have you ever tried growing things in a window box? It's really a challenge. Is that all you have to say? Yes. Unless you're an authority on IV geranium. You see, I find it difficult to be hysterical about this apparition who's supposed to be haunting Warrington Square. Yeah. You a police? So far, you haven't produced anything spectacular to make me feel otherwise. No, I guess not. Look, I do appreciate what you're trying to be helpful, Mr. Valentine. I'd like to be helpful, too. Well, talk to Jack Pringle. What about? Doesn't it seem odd to you that he's the one who always comes up with a witness and a detailed description of the madman? Yeah, I've mulled that over. It's possible a reporter might overwork his imagination to get a good story. Or he might have other reasons, of course I wouldn't know. I'm just trying to be helpful. Now, Mr. Valentine, it's getting late. I really must get best for dinner. I like to ask you to stay, but he happens to be something very special. My future husband, I hope. All right. Good luck, Nancy. But just to make sure, you'd better find out if he owns a gay sport check. What took you so long up there, George? What does she have to say? Nothing particularly new, angel. Except the discourse on growing geraniums in a window box. Come on, let's go. Well, aside from meeting a gallery of queer characters, got nowhere fast, George. Oh, that window box just missed us. Back up against the wall, Brooksie. The lady has more than one of those up there. I'd feel better back in the lobby. I know I'm not gonna feel better until I have another talk with Nancy Cabot. Better get Riley on the phone, angel. Oh, who could have gotten in here and choked her? You only left her a few minutes ago. I can think of three answers. Somebody who was waiting for me to leave, somebody Nancy knew well. And somebody who had good reason to let fall with that window box. Well, now all we need is a witness to say he saw a man in a gay sport jacket. Well, get busy, bro. See? Don't impede justice. Call the lieutenant. What are you doing with that typewriter, George? Dear Mr. Valentine, in the last month. Oh, I get it. Was it Miss Habit who wrote us that letter on her own little typewriter? Brooksie. She was just a day early in writing her obituary. We'll return to tonight's adventure of George Valentine in just a moment. Meanwhile, a word about an important driving precaution. If you're planning a motoring trip, here's something you should do to make it a safe trip. Stop in at a Standard station or independent Chevron gas station before you start out and have your tires inspected. If you find they're worn smooth, have risky cuts or bruises, don't take a chance. Play safe and get a new set of grip safe Atlas tires. The wider skid resisting Atlas tread gives you greater driving protection. There's more rubber to grip the road to give you quick, safe stops. And absorb road shocks. With each new Atlas passenger tire keep you get a full year's written warranty against damage to the tire from road hazards. No wonder Atlas is the tire known nationally for its safety, long life and economy. Another tip. When you're on the open road, keep safe by keeping the right amount of air in each tire. And that's a job for the folks at independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations where they say and mean, we'll take better care of your car. You get an unsigned letter and a list of four people who've met with violent death in exchange for good legal tender found in a railroad station locker. You're supposed to come up with the murderer. If you're anything like George Valentine, the deal doesn't faze you. But then you find one of the victims still alive. However, she doesn't disappoint you. You find the lady nicely throttled in her apartment, which is where you are now with Brooksie and Lieutenant Riley. But Valentine, If Nancy Cabot was afraid for her life, why didn't she sign her name to that letter instead of all this. This rigamarole? Well, don't you see, Lieutenant? She knew that if I took that job, I'd eventually get around to that fourth name on the list. Then she'd find out how I was doing without tipping her hand. Well, that's an answer, George. But it doesn't make any make it any simpler. Yeah. Nice having you on my side for a change, Ms. Brooks. She was plain scared that this guy in a plaid coat would find out that she got in touch with me. There's nothing complicated about that. Another thing. All the time I was talking to her, I had the feeling she was trying to tell me something. But what? Despite myself, I'm beginning to believe Pringle's story about the ghost of Warrington Square. Oh, not you, Lieutenant. Well, can you blame me? Valentine leaves the gal's apartment, she's choked to death. A flower box comes down on your head. And then. Then the killer disappears into thin air. If another neighborhood character says he saw a man in a gay sport coat coming out of the house, he'll have to explain why we didn't see him. Now, wait a minute, Pringle. You can't go in there. Never mind Hennessy. Let him come in. Where's your rally? I've got to see her. She's in the next room. But you have no objection if the medical examiner looks at it first? Get out of the way. Wait a minute. What's the matter with you? You crazy? I'll try to stop. Hey, wait a minute, Lieutenant. You know the girl, don't you? Pregnant? No. We're going to be married. You must have been the someone very special she was gonna meet tonight. How do you know Valentine? What were you doing here? Ms. Cabot hired me to find this dapper murderer you've been writing about. She shouldn't have done that. Do you know what it meant to me to prove I was right? She should have stayed out of it. Well, it's a tough break, Pringle, but don't blame yourself. You're right. I should. I should blame you. Now, wait a minute. If you'd done something, he never would have had a chance to kill Nancy. What makes you so sure it was our friend? Don't be naive, Valentine. This man is mad. This was his way of getting back at me. Oh, that's incredible. That's putting it mildly. But from here on in, Pringle, I'll accept your theory as fact. And work accordingly. Oh, wait a minute. I know you're desperate, Lieutenant, but don't be rash. What's that supposed to mean? Well, as soon as I find out, I'll let you know. Say, George, there's a man in the outer office. He gave me this for you. Do your bit for all humanity. Join the fight against profanity. Oh, don't you remember, angel? I told you about the Mallory. Bring him in. Oh, the characters in this case. This way, Mr. Mallory. Oh, yes, thank you. What brings you here? I saw the picture of that girl who was murdered. You mean Miss Cavis? Yes, dear. Mr. Mallory, sit down. Make yourself at home. Come on. What about the lady? Well, perhaps first we could talk about a little contribution to my anti cussing campaign. Ah, the amount will depend on the information and so you'd better start talking. But it said in the papers that Mr. Pringle and Ms. Cabot were so in love with each other and were going to get married. Love, marriage. That's the usual combination, isn't it? Well, a couple of days ago they were together and they passed me on the street. We were having a terrible fight. Oh, yes, and should have heard the words Mr. Prim will use. I was tempted to give him one of my cards. Do you remember what they were quarreling about? She made it plain she was going to marry someone else. Hey, that would change the picture a little, George. Yeah, if it wasn't just a lover's quarrel. Yeah. Mr. Valentine, about the. Oh, yeah. Hey, are you busy, Valentine? No, no, come in, Lieutenant. Well, I thought we'd compare notes again because this case is the diamond. Get it over what you see here, take what you might. My car. Oh, you with those. Those cards. Thank you very much, mister. I drive you crazy? You look tired, Lieutenant. Tired? Oh, I'm walking around dead. Well, here, relax. Take it easy. Look, Valentine. Now look, we've had our differences, but I'm at a point now where I'll take suggestions from anybody. You know, that's a very reasonable attitude. Never mind that. Say, do you know anything I don't know? What did you mean in the cabin apartment about me not being too rash or something like that? Oh, George was just thinking of your blood pressure, Lieutenant. Nah, don't give me that. Come on now, loosen up, Valentine. Come on. Okay. Maybe I can tell you something that'll make you feel a lot better. What's that? You don't have to worry about any more murders in Warrington Square. There won't be any. What makes you say that? How do you Know? Well, for one thing. Okay, angel. Okay. Hello? Who? Oh, yeah, yeah, I know all about you. What's that? Well, that's fine, but just keep that to yourself till we have a chance to talk it over. Yeah, I'll be right there. Now, look, what were you gonna say? What makes you so sure there's not gonna be another murder? I'm afraid that'll have to wait. Now, Lieutenant, my optimism has suddenly waned. Carrie's rooming house is just on the next block. George. Hey, Brooksie. Just how did this Emmett Carey impression you spoke to him? Just an actor who probably sleeps with his scrapbook under the pillow. Seemed honest enough. Yeah, sounded like a screwball over the phone. Anyway, something must have happened to change his mind about the man in the plaid coats. If he told Pringle that, I can imagine how the demon reporter feels. Oh, golly, this is all we need. Catwoman. She starts talking, we'll never get out of here. One of my cats is missing. Ms. Brooks. Have you seen her? You couldn't help recognizing her. Her name is Bella. Oh, there hasn't been a cat in sight. Mrs. Winthrop, now we really must. I can't understand it. Bella was such a well adjusted. Have you seen a young man? No, ma' am. Oh, well, she'll come back. Oh, Brooksie, don't you mad. Petition. Would you care to sign that young man to found a home for stray cats? Better sign it, George. Okay. Do you suppose, Ms. Brooks, that man in the plaid coat could have lured Bella away? I've been thinking. We'll tell you later, Mother. Come on. Come on, let me in here. I came out of the hospital and stumbled over it. George, it's Emmett Cowley. Hey, look, miss, did you notice anyone else in the street when you came out? A man was just running around the corner. That was the man in the plaid coat. Brooksie, stay here till the police come. I'll be right back. Hey, look, friend. A man came running into this block a few minutes ago. He had to pass here. Did you see him? You must have seen him. Oh, no, no. I wouldn't be able to see him. I'm sorry. Everybody around here knows poor old Joe can't see. You're looking for this fellow in a plaid coat, aren't you? He just passed here. Yeah, but how would you know that if you're blind? He stopped right in front of me here. You mean he told you who he was? Oh, he said everybody was looking for him, but they'd never find him. He said he wasn't through Killing. Yet he didn't care who I told that to. You know, he must be crazy. You're not kidding, Pop. You're not going to stop looking for him, are you? He has a way of evaporating right in front of your eyes. Oh, you should keep after him. He ran down the street and went into that alley. You know, a fella like that shouldn't be around loose. Okay. This is for your trouble. Oh, God bless you. Don't mention it. Whether you know it or not, you may turn out to be the one to clean up this whole mess. And in this, the latest of the Warrington Square murders, the police have a blind man as the principal witness. Now, maybe a blind man shall lead the police, etc. Etc. Well, that's a beautiful story you wrote, Pringle. What did you want me to do, Lieutenant, Shower you with compliments? Don't you feel out of things not being the one to find the witness this time? Not at all, sweetheart. Seems I'm right in the middle of things. Tell me, Riley, why did you ask me down here anyway? Thought I wasn't welcome in your office? You want to know? It wasn't my idea at all. I'll guess. Who? Valentine. Where is he? Oh, he's here. Okay. Valentine. Yeah, over here. Joe. Take this chair. Be careful now. That's all right, Mr. Valentine. You don't have to worry about poor old Joe. I can get around. So you finally decided to let the working press turn talk to your precious witness, Lieutenant. That's right. I thought you'd like an interview. I've got a few questions for him. Well, keep them under your hat because Valentine here is going to ask the questions. Correction, please, Lieutenant. Just one question. Joe, you said the man in the plort coat stopped and talked to you. That's right. Well, here's the question. Do you know who he is? Yes, it's. It's that French fellow over there. Is he pointing at me? That's right. This is one time the power of suggestion couldn't work on a witness. You couldn't plant any ideas in Joe's mind as you did with the other three witnesses. You must be hopped up, Valentine. You had to act out the myth you created because you thought he was blind. He's just a bad boy, Pringle. He doesn't like to work. There's nothing wrong with Joe's eyes. Seems strange to be reading anything about the Warrington Square murders without Jack Pringle's byline on it. Yeah, well, I'd have to carry a city jail Dateline, Brooksie. The editor probably didn't think that would look dignified. Well, I hope you're pleased to see yourself in print, darling. Valentine suspected the blind man was a phony when the latter pointed out with such accuracy the path the fleeing killer took. Only one thing wrong with that story. They don't mention my name enough. Furthermore, Valentine. Valentine reasoned that Pringle could have instilled in the three earlier witnesses the conviction that they'd seen a man in the plaid coat when actually no such man existed. Yeah, but Brooksie, they forgot to add that Pringle was lucky to find three people who were so susceptible to suggestion. A catwoman, a man with a crusade, a hammock. Pringle tried not to overlook a thing. He knew it would look too suspicious if the trail stopped abruptly after he killed Nancy Cabot. So he went on with Kerry to keep alive the myth, the kill in the gay sport jacket. Oh, Angel, I think I'll take Lieutenant Riley's suggestion and give that $300 to the police welfare fund. Oh, well, that's fine, but shouldn't we keep some of it for all the time and work? Oh, I forgot to mention this. I sold an exclusive first person story to the morning bulletin for $500. Why does the lady of the house defrost the refrigerator periodically? Because she knows that too much ice will prevent proper cooling. If she's wise and thrifty about the family car too, she knows it's all important to get oil drains at regular intervals. That's because any oil used too long collects too much carbon and other engine killers. So if you've driven quite a spell without having the crankcase oil drained and replaced with fresh oil, take a tip. You'll get longer engine life by getting an oil drain at a Standard station or an independent Chevron gas station tomorrow. For that's where they have RPM motor oil. RPM you know is compounded to keep your whole engine system cleaner. And that it certainly does when you get oil drains at regular intervals. Speedy Oil Drain service with premium quality RPM for your fresh oil is another reason all these stations say and mean we'll take better care of your car next week when you tune our way for another adventure of George Valentine. A new and intriguing letter will come to George's desk saying, Dear Mr. Valentine, for almost seven years I've been hiding a man who killed his own wife. Next week he's going to collect $200,000 because I failed. I need help and I don't mind admitting it. So how about giving me A ring signed Samuels. Don't miss George Valentine's latest case, the Seven Dead Years. Next Monday night, the night's adventure of George Valentine has been brought to you by Standard of California on behalf of independent Chevron gas stations and Standard stations throughout the West. Let George do it stars Robert Daly as George, with Francis Robinson as Claire. Wally Me appears as Lieutenant Riley. Tonight's story was written by David Victor and Herbert Little, Jr. And directed by Don Clark. Also heard in the cast were Georgia Ellis as Nancy, Tony Barrett as Pringle, Peggy Weber as Mrs. Winthrop, Howard McNear as Mallory, Larry Dobkin as Kerry, Dick Ryan as Joe. The music is composed and conducted by Eddie Dunstetter. Your announcer, John Hen. Listen again next week, same time, same station, to Let George Do It. This is the Mutual. Don Lee broadcasting. Fits beautifully, Mrs. Wentworth. Perhaps a little sleeve alteration. Ms. Collins, could I see you a moment, please? Of course, Miss Payne. Oh, excuse me, please, Mrs. Wentworth. I won't be long. You wanted to see me, Ms. Payne? Yes, I do. Would you please come into my office with me? Of course. I just saw the sales figures for last week, Ms. Payne. They're up from the same week last year and the year before. Yes, I'm at. They would be The. The year before was the year you came with me, wasn't it? Yes, that's right. I'll be here two years this month. Yes, that's what I thought. Come in, Claire. Thank you. You may sit down if you like. Thank you. Now, then, you were saying something about sales figures, Claire? About the fact that they're up? Yes. I imagine profits are up accordingly. How much would they be up if you hadn't been stealing from the shop, Ms. Payne? Now, let's stop the pretense. I know all about your declaring yourself in on the profits, Clay. The only thing I don't know is how you're going to pay back what you've stolen. According to these records, the amount is $12,465. I needed the money, Ms. Payne, and I had to have it. I'll pay you back. Will you? Then there isn't any more to be said, is there? 12,000, $465 by Saturday of this week. That is all, Claire. Saturday of this week. But I couldn't possibly. If I don't have the money by Saturday, I shall turn the entire matter over to the police. You have until Saturday, Claire. I have until Saturday to get the money. That isn't very long, is it? But perhaps it does give me time enough to Find another way out. Please come in anytime, Mrs. Jamison. I'm sure we'll have something that you'll like. Goodbye. Come. Hello, Edith. Sydney. What do you want here? A job in the store, Edith. I need a job pretty bad. How the mighty have fallen. What do you think you could do around here? Anything. Anything at all. Stock clerk, maybe? Shipping room. Anything you wanted me to do. You know, Sydney, if I ever needed any assurance of my success, your being here asking for a job would do the trick. What about the job, Edith? You'd better get used to calling me Ms. Payne. You remember my last name, don't you? I remember everything about you. How you came to my shop, this same shop, five years ago, and asked me for a job. And how I gave it to you. Yes. Yes, you did. As a stock clerk. $12 a week with a chance for advancement. You certainly advanced, and quickly. Before I knew it, I was depending on you for everything. And then one day I found you had control of my business. That won't happen again, Sydney. The other way around, I mean. All right. You start as a stock clerk for $12 a week and no chance for advancement. Want the job, Edith? Nobody can say I don't remember my friends. Oh, excuse me, friend. Ms. Payne speaking. This is Tom Henderson, Ms. Payne. Oh, yes, Mr. Henderson. I own the Paris Import Dress Shop on Fifth Avenue. I know. What can I do for you? I'll tell you what you can do. You can stop sending those snoopers of yours over to my store to sketch my imports so you can make them up cheaper. That's what you can do. So far as I've been able to find out, there are no copyrights on designs, Mr. Henderson. And besides, my designers just happen to think of the same models that you go to the expense of importing. Is that all? No, it isn't. All my business has been cut in half. I'm on the verge of bankruptcy because of your unethical tactics. You're going to have to stop, Ms. Payne, or I'll find a way to stop you. That is all Very excitable, man. Now, where were we, Sydney? You were offering me a job at $12 a week. The same job under the same circumstances that I offered you five years ago. Not exactly the same circumstances, Sydney. You see, I was smarter than you are, and I still am. You want a job, you've got it. Now, go on. Go on, get out and tell the bookkeeper. Only leave me alone right now. I have troubles. Have you, Edith? I mean, Ms. Payne. I don't doubt it. You can't push little people around without having worries. Yes, my dear. One little person can see to it that you have one big trouble. Taxi. Taxi. Good evening, Ms. Payne. Oh, it's you, Sydney. Through for the day so early? Get me a cab, will you? All right, Edith. I mean Ms. Payne. And I think I'll have better luck down at the corner. It's only a short walk. Shall I try there? Might as well. Oh, I'll go with you. Well, how did you like your first day in what was once your day dress shop? I didn't mind too much. You shouldn't mind, you know. You asked for a job and I gave you one. Incidentally, you forgot to thank me. I have a lot of things to thank you for, Ms. Payne. Yes, well, I just as soon not hear about them. Well, here's the corner. What about a cab? Taxi. Are all the cabs taken? In my present financial condition, cabs don't represent much of a problem to me. Popular corner. We stopped on people waiting for the lights to change before they cross the street. Sydney, what about that cab? There should be one along in a minute. Well, somebody else had the same idea about taxi cabs in this corner, apparently. Look there in back of us. The rather tall man, the one in the striped trousers and dark coat. Who's he? Tom Henderson. You should remember him. He's one of our competitors. Only right now he insists I'm putting him into bankruptcy by stealing his exclusive imports and copying them. Oh, silly fellow. Taxi. Oh, darn. Plenty of empty trucks, but not too many empty cabs. Oh, wait here. Ms. Payne, I think I see a cab pulling into the car back there. All right, but hurry, will you? Let me through. Look at her, lying there dead. And I was with her only a moment ago. Poor Edith. Who is it? Markham, Vance. Well, come right into my private office, Markham. You alone? Yes. Ms. Dearing's out to lunch and my other secretary's on an errand, so I'm holding down the fort all by myself. How are you, Vance? Well, thank you. And my favorite district attorney. All right, thanks. Uh, how busy are you at the moment, Vance? Very, unless there happens to be a murder my favorite district attorney wants investigated. There happens to be a murder. In that case, I'm completely at your service. Details, Markham. What are the details? Well, Vance, a woman named Edith Payne owned a very successful dress shop. She was standing on the corner of 5th and Main waiting for a cab when suddenly she cried out. And an instant later she was dead under the wheels of a truck. Well, I follow that mark. We got one break on the case, Vance. A newspaper photographer happened to be in the crowd. He heard her scream and managed to get a picture of her lying on the ground. You can see the figures of the people who were in back of her, but not their faces. The camera was pointed down at the ground. Is that right? Yes. Before I show you the print, Vance, I want to tell you what else we know of this case. Sergeant Heath made inquiries and found out that a man who admits being with Ms. Payne but claims he left her a moment before once owned the shop but was now working for her. His name is Sidney Taylor. And he was with her at the corner. Yes. Sergeant Heath uncovered another suspect for you, too. Man named Tom Henderson, who was being forced out of business by Ms. Payne. Heath found out at the shop that he was intensely bitter about it. And? Well, that's all I can tell you now. Is the picture of the body of Ms. Payne and the crowd. Hmm. Doesn't seem to tell us much, does it? People are pretty hard to identify when their faces aren't shown. But it can be done. It can? How? Clothes, posture, some idiosyncrasy of dress become peculiar to a particular individual. Oh, I see. Yes, it can be done, Markham. And in this case, I'd say it had better be done. What's this? What's what? This figure in the front row of the crowd. The man wearing the double breasted herringbone suit. Yeah, what about him? I don't know, but there's something peculiar about this suit. What's wrong with it, Markham? I'm sure I don't know. It doesn't fit very well. No, no, that isn't it. Something else may not be important, though. Markham, what kind of a man is this Tom Henderson? Well, from what I've learned, very stately, well turned out, and his store had quite a society clientele. Really? Then this conceivably might be his picture right here where you see the cutaway trousers in the front row. Oh, yes. Henderson might well be wearing a cutaway in view of his ultra dress shop. Hmm, we can check that, of course. That herringbone suit still puzzle you, Vance? Very much. Wish I could figure what was wrong with it. Well, Markham, I think we've spent enough time here. Let's go down to Ms. Payne's dress shop and see what we can find out. You say your name is Claire Collins and you're the manager of this shop? That's right, Mr. Vance. It was I who told Sergeant Heath about the trouble Miss Payne was having with Tom Henderson? That's correct, Vance. She also informed me of the fact that Sidney Taylor, who used to own this shop, was with Ms. Payne. How did you know that, Ms. Collins? Well, I saw them leave together. I go in the opposite direction, but I saw them walk toward the corner together. Well, that's logical enough. You may go if you like, Ms. Collins. Only please don't leave the store. You're an excellent source of information, and I'd like to keep you handy. Glad to be of assistance, Mr. Vance. Oh, just one moment, Ms. Collins. Would you take a look at this picture, please? Certainly. Well, do you recognize anyone in this picture besides Ms. Payne, of course? Well, how could I? There aren't any faces shown. I didn't think you'd be able to pick anyone out, but there was always a chance. Ms. Collins, there was no bad feeling between Ms. Payne and you, was there? Of course not. Thank you. You may go now. I'll send for you if I want you. All right, Mr. Vance. I'll be where I can be reached. Well, Vance? Attractive, isn't she? Yes. Yes, very. I see you're looking at Ms. Payne's daily calendar. Anything there? Not yet. Just routine appointments, I'd say. What's this? Hmm? What's what? On this page. Take a look, Markham. On the page reserved for Saturday of this week, there are these four letters. What do you make of them? They look like that first letter looks like a P. The second is definitely an I, and the last two are two Cs. P, I, C, C. What does that spell or stand for? I don't know yet. But that first letter isn't a P, Markham. The first stroke is curved, not up and down. Perhaps it's code of some kind. No, no, I think I know what it is. Now, I'll give you this much of a hint. The CC Those last two letters, unless I'm very much mistaken, which you rarely are. Thank you. Thank you stand for Claire Collins, the young lady who was just in here. Oh, and the first two, they're shorthand symbols. Markham Pitman, shorthand transcribed the notes under Saturday's date read, last day, Claire Collins. This is District Attorney Markham. The Herringbone murder case opened with the finding of the body of Edith Payne, dress shop owner. She had apparently been pushed under the wheels of a truck, and a newspaper photographer passing by had snapped a picture almost immediately after the accident. No one in the crowd that surrounded the body was identifiable. Later, at the dress shop, Philo Vance discovered a memorandum concerning the store manager, Claire Collins, left by the dead owner, Vance has appeared puzzled by a figure in the photograph. The figure of a man wearing a double breasted suit. He hinted there was something wrong with it. And in an effort to find out what, I have gone to a photography studio. I've. Of course, Mr. Markham. You close the coat. I'm sorry. Never do I photograph a man in a double breasted suit with the coat open. Always. It has to be buttoned. Please. Of course, Mr. Roberti, of course. Remember, I don't want my face shown. Just the suit. No face? No face. 40 years I have been taking pictures. This I never heard of before. Except perhaps if this is to be a. A fashion picture. Oh, no, no, no. Hardly. Very well. You tell me what you want, I take the picture. Thank you. Hold still, please. I'm sorry. One moment and it will be all over. That's fine, Mr. Roberti. I have a great deal to do and the sooner I get this picture, the sooner I may be able to show my friend Philo Vance some results. Yes, Mr. Henderson? There's a gentleman in the outer office who wishes to see you. He says his name is Sidney Taylor. Taylor, huh? Fine. Send him in, please. Sidney Taylor coming to see me? I wonder if Mr. Henderson. Come in. Come in, Mr. Taylor. Sit down. Thank you. You know me, Mr. Henderson. I know about you. You once owned the dress shop Edith Payne was running. That's right. I had no love for her, Mr. Henderson. I have no feeling of remorse now that she's gone. Remorse? You mean you killed her? Mr. Henderson, how much do you think the police would like to know that you were on the corner in back of us when Edith Payne was murdered? If they knew that she was ruining my business, I imagine they would be very interested if I were there. You were there all right. I saw you. Only I have no intention of telling that to the police. No? No. And this isn't blackmail or a threat of any kind, Mr. Henderson. I just would like a job in your store. I know the business very well and I could be valuable. It isn't blackmailed. But you want a job or you'll talk. That's right. Sorry, Mr. Taylor. If you'd come here an hour ago, I might have listened to your proposition. Hour ago? Yes. You see, Philo Vance was here. He seemed to know I was on that corner. Something he figured out from a picture. There's nothing you can do to me or for me, Mr. Taylor. I'm in this thing right up to my neck. I just dropped into your office for a moment, Markham. I want another look at that photograph. Of the crowd at the death scene. That double breasted herringbone suit still has you stop, Vance. Well, I wouldn't say that exactly, Markham. What about that mysterious memorandum you deciphered from Ms. Payne's calendar? The one that read last day, Claire Collins? I'll get to that in due time. Vance, I am quite convinced that you know more about the solution of this case than you're admitting. Why the reticence? I'm not holding back because I want to be secretive. Markham. It's true. I have a definite idea as to who killed Ms. Payne. But you're the district attorney and you're liable to become prejudiced against the person who I think is guilty. If you think he's guilty, Vance, I guarantee he is. That's just what I meant. I'd rather wait until I had proof. Just as you say. But I felt a little unhappy about that herringbone suited figure. You mentioned there was something wrong with the suit. So I had a picture taken of myself to compare with it. And you found that there was a difference in the way your suit was buttoned and the way the one in the group picture was buttoned. You knew that, Vance. I realized what was wrong with the Herringbone suit after I left you, Markham, I'm sorry you went to the trouble of having a picture taken. So am I. Now, do you think that the herringbone suit is important, Vance? In the solving of this case, I mean. Important, Markham? No, I wouldn't say it was important. I'd say it was vital. Officer Philo vance, private investigator, Ms. Gorham speaking. Ms. Gorham, this is Mr. Vance. Is Ms. Deering there? No, she's not. She's doing some research at the library. Can I help? Yes, you can, Ms. Gorham. I'm going to give you the home addresses of two people, Sidney Taylor and Thomas Henderson. I want you to use some pretext or other and get into their homes. I want to know whether either of them owns a double breasted herringbone suit. I'll try to find out, sir. Good. Give me the addresses, Mr. Vance. And I hope I find the herringbone suit for you. Frankly, I hope you don't. Oh, you see, I'm going to see a man whom I don't know know who doesn't know me, but who I think can supply the ending to the Herringbone murder case. Yeah. How do you do? My name is Vance. You don't know me. No kidding. Of course I don't know you. And I let you in on something that's okay with me. Just one moment, please. I'm not selling anything. That's good, cause I'm not buying nothing. So suppose we start when you're knocking on the door. And this time I'll ignore it. So long. Wait a moment. Just one moment. How would you like to make $50? Oh, I see. You're not selling anything. You're the one that's buying. That's right. $50 worth of the answer to one question. Brother, this beats those radio quiz games. You gotta work up to the big money question on them. Well, what is it? Do you own a double breasted herringbone suit and did you let somebody else wear it yesterday? That's really two questions, but I'll let it go on a counter. There's only one answer to both of them. The answer is yes. Thank you. Here's your money. You've earned it. I have? Well, what do you know about that? Hey, call again, will you, Mr. Vance? Call again. Where is Vance? Miss? Mr. Markham, I'm not used to standing on street corners. I'm sorry, Ms. Collins. Apparently Mr. Vance has been delayed. But he'll be here, I'm certain. Why don't you join Mr. Taylor and Mr. Henderson? They don't seem to mind waiting. Look, I don't care what they mind. All I can tell you is that Mr. Vance asked that you, Taylor and Henderson be here. Here comes a truck headed for this corner. I thought I left orders for no traffic to come through here. Maybe the truck is getting restless too. That isn't the reason. Look who's riding with the driver. It's Vance. What happened, Vance? Couldn't you get a cab? Hello, Markham. Ms. Collins. Sorry, I was delayed a bit. Well, I see you have Mr. Taylor and Mr. Henderson waiting. Yes, Vance, I have. What's this outdoor meeting for? You should know by now, Markham. You mean this is the payoff? You know who killed Edith Payne and you're going to prove it. Make that I hope to prove it. And you'll be right. Call our two friends over here, will you mark them, please? Of course, Vance. I'll go get them personally. I hope you have a good reason for all of this, Vance. I have, I assure you. Now you all want to know why you were brought here, don't you? Of course we do. You're entitled to that information, Mr. Henderson. This is the corner where Ms. Payne was pushed under the wheels of a truck. I know you were in the crowd, Mr. Henderson, so please stand where you were at the time. Well, I'm not sure exactly where I was. I am I studied the photograph taken at the scene a dozen times. You were immediately in back of where Ms. Payne had been standing. Right there, please. All right. Thank you. Yes, but what am I doing here, Vance? You, Ms. Collins? Yes, me. I told you I wasn't here when Miss Payne was killed. I'd gone the other way to the subway. Yes, you did tell me that, didn't you? It must have slipped my mind. Mr. Taylor, you were right alongside of Ms. Payne a moment before she was pushed, right? Yes, I was standing right about here before I went for a cab. Vance, what about our mysterious man in the double breasted herringbone suit? Where does he fit in this? I'll show you in a moment. I brought a double breasted suit coat with me on the truck. Mack, would you hand me that coat, please? Right. Thanks. Now, Ms. Collins, will you put this on over your dress and stand right about there? All right. But I never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. Perhaps not. Oh, button the coat, will you, Miss Collins? Certainly. There now what? Now, Miss Collins, I'm sure you won't give Mr. Markham any trouble when he takes you to headquarters. You see, you've just convinced me that you are the murderer of Edith Payne. May I have this in very small pieces, please, Vance? The explanation of how you knew Claire Collins pushed Ms. Payne to her death. I mean. Certainly, Markham. First of all, you're entitled to know how I knew it was a woman. I go along with that. It was a herringbone suit, Markham. The double breasted herringbone suit we saw in that picture. It was buttoned the wrong way. Yes, I know. Buttoned from right to left. A woman buttons everything that way, from a blouse to a top coat. And a man buttons everything from left to right. I'm beginning to understand your logic now. You were convinced that the herringbone wearer was a woman and you wanted to know what a woman would be doing at the scene of a crime wearing a man's suit. Right. She probably wore it so that if she had to skip in a hurry, witnesses would say a man was seen running away. She didn't have to run because apparently nobody saw her push Ms. Payne. But, Vance, any woman could have been wearing a man's suit. Why did it have to be Ms. Collins? Markham, where would a woman get a man's suit, hmm? Rent it or buy it? I say renting it would be dangerous. The suit wasn't new, so it wasn't bought. Of course, it could have been a secondhand suit that was purchased, but fortunately it wasn't. Well, how Was it gotten? It was borrowed from a neighbor, just as I thought it would be. I went to Ms. Collins apartment house and questioned her neighbors until I found a man who'd loaned her his double breasted suit. Then when I rode up on the truck this afternoon, I had her put on a coat just to make sure she buttoned it as all women do from right to left. Yes, yes, I understand. Vance, do you know why Ms. Collins killed Ms. Payne? No, I'll admit I don't know the motive. Well then for a change I can tell you something. It seems that Ms. Payne had given her until Saturday to return the money she had stolen or be turned over to the police. She couldn't return the money, so she did away with Ms. Payne and would have been in the clear if it weren't for you. A lot of people must hate you, Vance. Most criminals do. I imagine you're not included in that not so select group, are you, Markham? Me? Oh, no, Vance. I'm on your side. I'm one of the many who want to see you operate and wind up mysteries just as you wound up the Herringbone murder case. The makers of Camel cigarettes present Dick Powell as Richard diamond, private detective. Not one single case of throat irritation due to smoking Camels. That's what noted throat specialists reported in a coast to coast test of hundreds of people who smoked only camels for 30 days. Make your own 30 day camel mildness test, the sensible, thorough cigarette test and see why more people smoke Camels than any other cigarette. Here transcribed is Richard Diamond Private Detective Starring Dick Powell. Diamond Detective Agency Put up or shut up. Hi. Oh, hi, Helen. You busy? Oh, like a hibernating bear. No business. I've seen more action in a bankrupt Turtle Farm. Things can't be that bad. I'm even getting an echo in here. Rick, really, listen. Hello? Hello. See? Rick, was that really an echo? Now wait a minute. Hey, my girl wants to know if you're really an echo. I beg your pardon. Honey, I'll call you back. This echo has a man with it. Bye bye. Can I help you, sir? I am looking for Mr. Richard Diamond. Why? Now that's an extremely unique question. I want to sell him 10 tons of pig iron. Well, I'm very sorry, but I made a New Year's resolution that I wouldn't build another battleship until I paid up my bill at the Automat. My name is Barr, David Barr. Now if you'll stop talking like a television comedian, I would like to discuss a business arrangement. Well, my name is Diamond, Richard Diamond. And if you're rolling in money, I'd be very happy to discuss any arrangement you could dream up. How much do you charge, Mr. Diamond? Well, that depends. It on depends. Anything short of a felony, 100 a day and expenses. How earthy. Well, it keeps my ribs from showing. Have you ever heard of me, Mr. Diamond? Well, I have a feeling this may lose me a quick sale. But very frankly, Mr. Barr, no matter. I can see by your clothes that your wardrobe must be fashioned exclusively by Popular Mechanics. No. Well, okay, we've kicked it around, it's been fun, but I'm beginning to get winded. What do you want to see me for, Mr. Barr? I want you to guard my store. Store? Yes, I have the most fashionable men's haberdashery and tailoring business on Madison Avenue. And you want it guarded? Perhaps I should give you some background concerning the disgusting incidents that led me to your office. For the lack of a more sordid description, yes. Office. I'm sure the whole background must be very disgusting. Two nights ago my shop was vandalized. Somebody broke in and swiped something. Yes, yes, to be exact, one blue Surge suit. One suit? One, one. I reported the incident to the police and they summed it up with the same brilliant observation as you. To quote the sergeant, Somebody broke in and swiped something. Now, look, Mr. Barr, don't tell me you want me to find that blue suit. No, this was not the end of the trouble, Mr. Diamond. Somebody lifted a hand painted tie maybe. Naturally, my employees were questioned, and the following day the police returned to their little precinct, satisfied that somebody had merely busted in and swiped something. Yes, yes, yes. Well, the following night my shop was again the object of vicious vandalizing. This time the party, or parties responsible took every foot of Blue Surge material in the shop. Oh, now wait a minute. First somebody breaks in and takes one blue Surge suit. The next night, all the blue Surge material in the store is stolen. What's the matter? Did you run out of suits? All my suits are custom tailored, Mr. Diamond. My stock of Finnish merchandise is generally sparse. We complete only two or three suits a day. The missing blue serge was hanging with two other suits. The property, of course, of one of my best customers. And the thief didn't touch the other two suits? No, no. And on the following night, the night of the second burglary, a gray flannel was left untouched. Hmm. The suit and the cloth stolen were both blue serge. Correct. Naturally, I had to order another stock of the same material. It's in the shop now, and I Should not be able to sleep a wink unless I was certain that it was safe. And you want me to sit up with a blue serge? Exactly. I am considerably interested in finding the motive behind these unusual robberies. Oh, well, this is certainly a first in my life. I've sat up with a lot of things but never 15 yards of blue surgeon. The illustrious Mr. Barr handed me a hundred dollar retainer, ran a white glove over the top of my desk like an inspecting general, made an observation on the pursuit of happiness and went out of my office faster than a bad molar at a dentist convention. We had agreed to meet at his shop at 6 o' clock that evening. So I pasted the hundred dollar bill to my instep, put the instep up on the desk, crossed the other end, step over it, leaned back and dozed off, secure in the knowledge that money would never go to my head. Yeah? Mr. Diamond, this is Mr. Bar. This isn't six, is it? It's 4:35. Mr. Diamond, am I correct in assuming that the moment you grab that hundred dollars you became a member of my employee? Well, you're correct. 100 bucks worth. Then please come immediately to number six Park Avenue. Something's happened and I feel a complete breakdown coming on. Oh, come in, come in. Oh, what's happened? Well, if this keeps up, I may be living on dream pills. I've been eating them like peanuts. Well, maybe if you gave me a hint. I have been robbed. Well, didn't we go through this thing in my. Here, here. I've been robbed here in my apartment. What? I came home, took a bath, went in to get dressed, opened my wardrobe and to my complete horror found three. My only three blue surge suits were missing. Oh no. A potent reaction. Oh no. Now why didn't I think of that? I can't imagine. It's certainly simple enough. We'll spend a whole day insulting each other after you solve this mystery. So for now strain yourself and try looking like a detective with a hundred dollar retainer in his pocket. Well, it's not in my pocket, but if we go into that, I'll leave myself wide open. Show me your wardrobe. Mr. Barr's apartment was as overdone as he was. I stepped down into the living room and found myself wading through a carpet that called for a dog sled to negotiate it. The smell of incense made me keep looking back over my shoulder for the dancing. He led the way into a bedroom that George Washington wouldn't have slept in without an armed guard and opened his wardrobe two dozen $300 suits stretched from one end of the closet to the other. And there was enough material in that wardrobe to drive a frustrated moth into a complete fit. They were hanging. Hanging right here in this space. You sure they couldn't be at the cleaners? They were here this morning. What's that on the bed? That's a blue serge suit, Mr. Diamond. That is the suit I was wearing when I came into your office. No, I was so busy looking at your money. Well? Well, what is to be done? I got to admit, it's sure a strange one. You are constantly coming up with the most astute observations. Wait till I get around to your personality. You'd really be a likable fella, diamond, if I could bring myself to look at you. Oh, I'm not so bad. Think of what you must go through shaving every morning. Oh, really, Diamond. What do you think is behind this ridiculous situation? Very honestly, I don't know. Except the obvious. Somebody wants your blue Surge suits and all the blue Surge material you've got. That blue Surge on the bed is the last one I've got. Do you think this could be some kind of a practical joke? Not very. It could get somebody 10 years. Well, have you got any ideas at all? Yes, I have. Take that last blue serge and hide it. I'll sit in your store tonight and see that the new material you ordered doesn't get lifted. You take the suit, Mr. Diamond. You're being paid to protect it. Okay? And remember, it's new. Brand new. It would cost you $300 to duplicate it. So for the sake of your home and kiddies, don't stuff your big shoulders into it. He gave me the key to his store and told me how to shut off the burger alarm. He gave me the phone number where I could reach him that evening in case something happened, draped the blue suit over my eyes and hurried me out of the room like he was getting rid of a plague victim. I grabbed a cab and 10 minutes later I was unlocking the door to my apartment. I started to toss Mr. Barr's suit on the bed, but thought better of it. So I went to the closet, opened the door and reached for a hanger. Now, unlike Mr. Byers wardrobe, I generally sport a variety of items. A couple of sport coats, a few old letterman sweaters to fill up the space, four pair of slacks and usually, mind you, I say usually two suits. One of which I was wearing at the moment. The other was a blue serge. Woz was right. Because where my blue Surge suit once Was it wasn't. That did it. First, Bar loses everything in sight. That happens to be Blue Surge. Then I come home and find that one of the two suits I had to. My name had been swiped. I burned. Bar could get dozens of suits and use them for bath mats when he got tired of wearing them. Me, I was going to have to sew sleeves and the bath mats. I called Barr at home, but he'd left. I thought about calling with the number he had given me, but decided against it. I sat down to try and figure it out, but a half a dozen camels later, I was still facing a big fat zero. One thing was sure, I had Mr. Barr's last blue serge suit, and nobody was gonna get it away from me, big shoulders or not. I put it on and headed for Barr's shop on Madison Avenue. I never made it. Hey, what is this? Well, I'm only considering it because he's got a gun in my back. Walked under that, I get. Get car sick. You heard him. Oh, fellas, I haven't been well. Doctor recommends lots of walking. Told me to stay away from cars. No. Oh, now look. You heard him. Yeah, I heard him. Would I be nosy if I asked? Yeah, you would be very nosy. How about you, friend? You heard him. Get in the pack. Look, can I interest you boys in the deal? My secret decoder and my ray gun? If you'll only. They were both big boys and they both had big guns. One of them slugged me with one of the big guns and my head swelled up to match the whole ugly situation. I went down and out faster than a left fielder trying to steal home with a charlie horse. They rolled me into the car. We drove for a long time, me lying on the floor of the back seat trying to. To bring myself back to a conscious way of thinking. Finally, I snapped out of it. They let me sit up and take a look around. We were on a lonely stretch of road, and although the car was green, not black, and didn't look anything like a hearse, I had a gloomy feeling that we were heading for a funeral. Get out. Now, look, you hate him. Okay, okay, look, fellas, the least you can do is tell me. Get out of that suit. Get out of the suit. You heard him. Take it off. Take it off quick. Well, I. Well, okay. Would you. Would you mind turning your backs? You want to get belted again? No, no, no. I'll take it off. Take the coat. Hunts. Yeah, Hunts. Here. Another pants. Come on, come on. Oh, all right, all right. But it's cold. I'm getting goosebumps. Hand him the pants. They are Hunts. So you're the guys who've been after the blue surge suits. Walk them off the road, Hunts. Yeah. What if a car came by me and my hand painted shorts? Get him off far enough so they won't find him right away. Hmm. Mo. Oh, now look. You hide him? Yeah, I sure did. Before we continue with Richard diamond, private detective, here's an important question. How mild can a cigarette be? There's one sensible way to find out. It's not just a sniff, not just a puff, but steady smoking. For only then can you find out how well a cigarette agrees with your throat day in and day out. In a coast to coast test, hundreds of people smoked only camels for 30 days each week. Their throats were examined by noted throat specialists who reported not one single case of throat irritation due to smoking Camels. Make your own 30 day camel test. Enjoy the rich, full flavor of Camel's costly tobaccos for 30 days and find out just how mild a cigarette can be. How mild Camels are. Pack after pack, week after week. It's the sensible, thorough test. A test that will pay off in years of smoking enjoyment. You'll discover why so many people say, once a Camel smoker, always a Camel smoker. How mild, how mild, how mild, how mild, how mild can a cigarette be? Make the Camel 30 day test and you will see. Smoke, Camels and sleep. And now back to Richard diamond, private detective starring Dick Power. I kept walking with Hunt's red behind me. His big gun pointed to the middle of my back. I could stand losing my clothes, but I'd grown to enjoy my life. So I decided I'd have to get that gun away from Hunt somehow. We were 50 yards from the road when I tried it. Give me that gun. Come on, give it to me. I guess you didn't hear what I said. Hunt said tried his best to put a hole on me. But like most guys who think they've got a sure thing, he forgot a small item called luck. In this case, all of it on my side. I left him lying on his face in the moonlight and headed back for the car. But the other gunsil evidently saw my white shorts bounding over the landscape and decided it was time to leave. I tried a shot at him and then went back to find Huntz and borrow a pair of pants. Sometimes when things happen that fast, a guy gets careless. Now I'd figured Huntz, being wounded, would be in the same spot I left him. But when I got back to the spot. The one sentenced killer was nowhere in sight. Somewhere in the distance I heard a branch snap. So I knew that Huntz was on his way back home. I was getting too cold in my undies to start chasing him. So I went back to the road and walked until I spotted a house. Any other time, I would have considered carefully before walking up to a front door attired only in my underwear. Thank goodness they weren't blue serge. I figured I could say I was a cross country runner with a bad sense of direction. I rang the doorbell and waited. Yes, could I use your ph. Oh, shut up, Walt. Boy, did you look silly when they dragged you in here. Oh, I don't know. I don't know. Otis thought it was a burlesque raid and asked me for a date. Would you mind telling me what you were doing running around like that? Well, that woman's husband was chasing me. What did you think I was doing? Well, you can't blame the old man for chasing you. Yeah, you scared his wife right out of her wig. Now, why don't you tell me what this is all about? Because I don't know. Well, how'd you lose your clothes? Let me make a phone call and I'll tell you all about it. I put in a call to David Barr and asked him to meet me at the store. Then I briefed Walt on everything up to date. Walt said, are you nuts? And I left before I had to lie. I went back to my apartment, climbed back into the only suit I had left, and 20 minutes later I was standing in David Byers shop on Madison Avenue. I explained the events of the last couple of hours and Mr. Byer said, disgusting. Ah, you bet. I just can't understand it. I'll move over. Don't you have any theories at all? Vague ones. That blue suit that you gave me, tell me about it. The material was originally ordered for a customer who failed to show up. So I had it made up for me. Where did you get your cloth? Black and Winterfield. Although I'm certain you've never enjoyed the benefit of their merchandise. You must have heard of them. What customer was the material ordered for originally? Oh, not one of my steady customers. He left a deposit. Well, what was his name? Kingsley. Leonard Kingsley. A small man with a preposterous stomach. I had to order four yards. Well, that's Mr. Kingsley. He's never called or gotten in touch with you? No, no, no. So, needing another blue suit? I used the material for my. If he comes in, I can always Order more material. Didn't you take his measurements? He was in a hurry. He picked out the surge from the book, gave me a deposit and told me he'd be back that afternoon for the measurements. That was over a month ago. What are you driving at, Diamond? That I know. I'm just fishing. The whole thing has got something to do with blue surge material in that blue suit. You're getting disgustingly repetitious. I suppose you're going to tell me this Kingsley sent two hired killers to steal my goods because he thought it was easier than coming in for a fitting. I don't know. Where's your phone? On the desk. It's the only thing in the whole shop that looks anything like a phone. Honestly, I got more of a description of Leonard Kingsley and put in a call to Walt at the precinct. I gave him the information, asked him to run a check. Then I said good night to Mr. Barr and settled back in a chair to guard the store. I'd been sleeping about an hour when Walt called back. What do you know about this Leonard Kingsley diamond? There's a brilliant question. Why do you think I called you up? I don't know anything. I want to find out. Well, where did you hear about him? From my client. That bar guy you told me about? That's right. This Leonard Kingsley came into his store, ordered a suit, never came back. That was because he couldn't come back. Yeah, About a month ago, this Leonard Kingsley was killed in a car accident. Stepped off the curb and a car hit him. You sure it was an accident? Yeah. Woman hit him. There was an inquest. Witnesses say it was all Kingsley's fault. All right, all right. What's arrest rest? Oh, stop with a Little Red Riding Hood. Something's up. Well, this is confidential, Rick. Well, it'll stay that way. The FBI have got a share in this thing. What? It seems that when a check was run to find Kingsley's home and relatives, all of the credentials he had on him turned out to be phonies. Particularly his passport. What did the Feds find out Kingsley was from one of the Iron Curtain countries? Espionage. All right, all right. Well, Paul Revere with a shoulder holster. I want some answers, Mr. Barr. How many customers can you remember who came into your shop and ordered only one suit in the last year? Half a dozen. How many never came back after they got the one suit? Well, what's the matter? That's peculiar. Everyone I can remember. And they're comparatively easy because most of my customers are steady. Go on, go on. What about these Single customers. Every one of them ordered a blue surge. And you got all the material from Black and Winterfield? Yes. The whole thing was beginning to make sense. What better way of getting information out of the country than in the material of a suit? I dragged Barr down to the store again, got the names of all his single customers who had ordered blue serge suits. Then I went over to the 5th Precinct and had Walt make a check on them. Two hours later, the U.S. customs Department sent in an interesting teletype. Rick, every one of those guys have left the country and hasn't returned. And 8 to 5 the FBI can find out plenty. Now give them the information. Let's go over to Black and Winterfield. I want to take a look at that store, see if I can find out how anyone can hide any kind of information in three and a half yards of blue surge. There it is. Dark. Yep. Come on. What do you think you're gonna do? We're going in that store and take a look around. You can't do that, not without a warrant. All right, fatty. Just so you won't disgrace that lovely badge, I'll go in first and you can come in and arrest me for breaking and entering. Now, Rick, you wait a minute. Walt. They know I got away. We can't wait. Hey, what's the matter? What are you looking at? That car in the alley. What about it? Looks like the one those two killers took me for a ride in. Come on. Well, looks like it. Wait a minute. I took a shot at it and maybe I can. Wait, I'll light a match. Uh huh. Yes, sir. Here it is. Nice little bullet hole. Well, I'll be. I think one of my little headhunters is in that building. Still want to get a warrant? Let's go. How are we going to get in? Oh, you'll figure something out. You're really a second story man at heart. Rick. Wait a minute. What is it? Look at this. Isn't that blood? Looks like both of them are here. Leads right in the door. Locked. Let's go around back. We ducked around back and spent the next 10 minutes jimmying the window. And Walt couldn't have been more professional if he'd done time in Sing Sing. He jammed it without a sound and knew just how to disconnect the alarm. We squeezed through and dropped to the floor. We were in a basement, and from somewhere in another part of the building we could hear a radio playing softly. We went up the steps to the first floor and stopped to listen. The radio was to our left, down a Long corridor. We stayed against the wall and edged our way toward a door at the end of the hall. A thin strip of light showed at the crack and we moved up and listened, holding our breath. How you feeling, Hunts? Well, we're trying to take it easy. And the boss is coming with the dock. They're both in there. Let's take them. Hold it. Music making you feel better, huh? No. No, Gabe. Well, you want something better? Maybe odyshaw pick you up. Maybe. No, turn it off. Okay. Don't you worry. I'll get that shamus for shooting you and the boss will be real happy when he sees we got the suit. Okay, let's take him. Walt, look out behind you. Rick. It all happened so fast, there wasn't any time to think. Suddenly there were two men standing behind us in the hall. By the time the smoke cleared, both of them were down, and Walt and I were shaking like a hula dancer with a hot foot. Then before we could catch our breath, Gabe came running out. I'll get him, Rick. No, no, I'll get him. You go in and take care of the wounded one. Walt went in after Hunts and I took off after the other. I caught him just as he dove through the front door. Hold it. Okay, okay. I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding. All right, all right, let's have it. I'm bleeding. Get a doctor. The ambulance is on the way. Now tell us about it. What do you want to know? We want to know about the suits and about the material and who the guys are in the hall. One of them's a doctor for Hansia. The other one's the boss. He runs the store. You were getting information out of the country? And the blue surge material? Yeah. What kind of information? All kinds. Defense plans, radar locations, that kind of stuff. Done all in code numbers. How did they do it? Stuff was invisible, like, just drew it on the blue serge. When the guy got out of the country, he'd take the suit and dip it in something. Then the writin come out. And when Kingsley got hit by the car. You found out he didn't have the suit. The boss did. How about it, Hans? How do you feel? Why did you swipe my suit? We was tailing bar, so I'm going to your office. Figured maybe he'd give you the suit. Well, there it is, Rick. How about it, Hans? Your partner telling the truth? You heard him. Dick Powell will return in just a minute. What cigarette do you smoke, doctor? Again, a study has been made. Again, this question was asked of doctors all over the country and in every branch of medicine. The brand named most was Camel. Yes, again and again, surveys show that more doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette friends. Smoke camels for 30 days and you'll see how mild, how flavorful, how thoroughly enjoyable a cigarette can be. And say, how about giving a carton of Camels for Valentine's Day makes a swell gift. How mild, how mild, how mild, how mild can a cigarette be? Make the Camel 30 day test and you'll see. Smoke Camel and see. Here's Dick Powell with a special message. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Each week for many years, the makers of Camels have been sending gift cigarettes to hospitalized servicemen and veterans in this country. Now, gift Camels are also being sent to hospitals overseas. This week's Shipping list includes U.S. naval Hospital, Yokosuka, Japan. Camels are also on their way to Veterans Hospital, Coatesville, Pennsylvania and Fort Howard, Maryland. U.S. air Force Hospital, Laclan Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas. Now, until next week, enjoy Camels. I always do. Dick Powell can soon be seen in his new RKO picture, Cry Danger. Tonight's adventure of Richard diamond was written by Blake Edwards with music by Frank Worth. Our director is Helen Mack. Featured in the cast were Virginia Gregg Wilms Herbert and Arthur Q. Bryant. PA stands for two things, Pipe appeal and Prince Albert. They go hand in hand for Prince Albert's Choice. Tobacco has a rich flavor and a delightful natural aroma. PA is crimped, cut for smooth, even burning, and it's specially treated to ensure against tongue bite. Get Prince Albert the National Joy Smoke, America's largest selling smoking tobacco. Listen next week for another exciting transcribed adventure of Richard diamond, starring Dick Powell. This is your FBI. The official broadcast from the files of the FBI follows immediately. Stay tuned. This program came to you from Hollywood. This is the American Broadcasting Company. The Adventures of the Saints, starring Vincent Price. The Saint. Based on characters created by Leslie Charteris and known to millions from books, magazines and motion pictures, the Robin Hood of modern crime now comes transcribed to radio starring Hollywood's brilliant and talented actor, Vincent Price as the Saint. Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Simpler. Oh, good afternoon. Welcome. Come in, sir, come in. You're very kind. Eh, well, it isn't everyone who'd invite a mere stranger in like this. The fact that it's my own apartment into which I'm being invited is. Oh. Did you find what you were looking for? Oh, dear. Then you can tell I've been searching through your things. But I took such pains to be neat. I abhor disorder. That's exactly the way I feel about fat intruders who practice burglary in my apartment. Burglary? Oh, really, sir. Do I look like a burglar? You look like a fastidious rhinoceros with a taste for Bond street tailoring. You see how appearances can be deceiving? I assure you, sir. Another thing I am not is a rhinoceros. That makes two things. You aren't? Suppose we trade him. For one thing, you are very well. For one thing, I am an unhappy man. Your wife doesn't understand you. No. The reason for my unhappiness is I no longer understand myself. I've changed. It worries me now. Take last night, for example. Yes, it was such a commonplace activity. The sort of thing a man in my profession soon gets used to. And yet all during it and afterwards, I found myself actually feeling sorry for the poor chap. Oh? And what was happening to the poor chap? Oh, the usual thing. Placing lighted matches under the fellow's fingernails, pressing burning cigars into the soles of his feet, Sticking pins into the calf of his leg. Yes, exactly. Prosaic, unoriginal, but still highly effective. Eh? If they weren't effective, it's hardly likely that I would be here, wouldn't you say? The point is, why are you here, Fatty? The name is Archibald. Archibald. Roland P. Archibald. Obviously. I have come to regain possession of my property. What property? What does it look like? An envelope, Mr. Templar. A small manila envelope. And the man you tortured said he gave it to me? Yes, Fernando said your name very clearly, Even though we were doing a magnificent job of twisting his arm at the time. And he was doing a pretty good job of pulling your leg. What do you mean? Look, Roland P. Archibald, my tailor is due here at any moment with a newly made suit that I am very eager to try on. I'd be obliged to you if you picked up your marbles and nice. That depends on whom it's being being pointed at. It's a Rolfer, One of the finest automatics the Germans ever made. I suppose you'd suspect an ulterior motive if I asked you for a closer look. The envelope, please. I've gone to considerable trouble, Mr. Templar. My patience is exhausted. Thoroughly exhausted. I'm not as thin as I used to be. Should we break some rye crisp together? The envelope for the last time. Very well. I suppose next you'll be pestering me for a stage. Please don't come any closer. Saints. Well, I have to get the envelope. I just don't happen to have it on me. I've searched this apartment thoroughly. It has to be on your person. Outwitted. Curse you. I'll take it. Please hand it over. All right. Wouldn't it be amusing if when I reached into my pocket, instead of finding an envelope, I found a gun? You have a gun, Mr. Templar? A gun? Of course not. I was just. Wait. Keep your hands where they are, Saint. But the envelope. Now raise your hands, please. Higher. Thank you. I'll remove the envelope from your pocket myself. Playing it cagey, hmm? Chubby. In my profession, caution is the difference between living and dying. Now, which pocket? This one. Yes, it is a nice gun. You've shown it to me when I asked. I wouldn't have had to keep kick in your bay window. That kick is going to cost you your life. Well, everything's expensive these days. Do you know the way out? Yes, Mr. Templer. But what's more important, I know the way back. Who is it? It's Finley, Mr. Templar. I've brought your soup. Oh, come in, Finley. If you'd been here 10 minutes ago, you'd have found me having my measure taken by someone else. Indeed. You're displeased with my work, Mr. Templer. That someone else wasn't accustomed Taylor Finlay. He was taking my measure with a gun. Well, now, let's see. How did this latest masterpiece of yours work out? If I may say so, sir, I do believe I've exceeded myself. Then you've exceeded the best tailor in town. If you'll remove your coat, Mr. Templar, I'll just take the suit out at the box. Yeah. Now if you'll just slip the coat on. All right. That's a good bit. Step over to the mirror, sir. Yeah. It's a well tailored piece of a. What's this? Pardon? This little. Well, I'll be. Something wrong, sir? Yeah, yeah. Or is it the latest fashion to wear a bullet hole beside the breast punch? What's that? A bullet hole? Look, see for yourself. Small and round and still smelling of cordite. It isn't possible. How could a thing like that have happened? Did this suit have any known enemies? Say a bargain basement blue surge with a jealousy neurosis? Mr. Templer, I'm dumbfounded. I don't know what to say. What's this? Another bullet hole? Something in the inside pocket. It feels like it. It's an envelope. What? Yeah, a small manila envelope. Now that has a familiar ring. And so has this name penciled across the flap. Name? Yes. Do you have a customer named Fernandez? Fernandez? Wife? No, sir. I know no one by that name. Who is he? Sir. A man who tells tall tales when his arm is twisted. A man who right now is probably very dead. Ah, my beloved. Fill a cup that clears today of past regret and future fears. Tomorrow I. Tomorrow I may be exactly where you are right now, quoting Omar Khayyam to a disinterested highball glass. And empty. Simon, this cotter clears empty. An entirely temporary condition. Bartender, double for Mr. Murphy and I will have the same. Ah. Your generosity is matched only by your intelligence and wit. What brings the mighty man Catcher to 3rd Avenue? Whiskey? Women? An encyclopedia that walks like a man and drinks like a fish? I'm at your service, my saintly friend. Well, I'm glad Einstein just wasn't available. An amateur. Hey. Hi, sir. Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you. Ask me anything, Simon. My brain is in your hands. We'll start with names. Two names. Name them. Roland, T. Archibald. Neat, natty and fat, with an extra bulge under the arm. At present, probably means a gun. That's Roland and that's all. Now, don't tell me that filing system you call a brain is slipped up on Roland feet. I'm afraid so, Simon. He has, oh, no friends, no acquaintances, no known occupation, no known anything. A very mysterious cookie. I'd put him more in the plum pudding class. Next. Name? Fernandez. Fernandez, Mo Simon. I know so many. I was afraid you would. Three bartenders and I. Manufacturer of hearing aids. A truck driver. Oh, Best and safest driver I ever knew. All truck drivers are the best and the safest anymore. Safecracker. A professor of oriental languages. Three more bartenders. What's the use? I wouldn't know the right one if I heard it. Look. Take a look at this. Four sheets of foolscap. You want to know what it is? I know what it is. It's a formula. Complicated formula in nuclear physics. Oh, now I'm learning. Where did you get this hot potato, Simon? It came in a small manila envelope that I found in the pocket of a brand new suit. You want me to tell you what the formula means? Too bad Einstein wasn't available. I'm more concerned with whom this belongs to rather than what it means. These initials printed in the upper left hand Corner. Initials Initial D.R.L. which means E, R, L. Well, Simon, on a formula in nuclear physics, the L probably stands for laboratory bartender. Triple for Mr. Murphy. Yes, sir. Drop in any time, Simon. Anytime. I shall always be glad to receive you. Hi. Hi. Been waiting a long time for you to come out of that saloon. Oh, why? I wanted to see you. That's why you're the saint, aren't you? I'm the saint and you're seeing me. What are you seeing me about? The envelope. You know, the one with the formula. I want it now. Don't tell me it's your homework. You know who I am, junior? Who are you? It don't make no difference who I am. But if it'll make you happy, it'll make me happy. My name's Gus. Come on, give. Why? I got a gun in my pocket, that's why. And I'm told to bring back that envelope no matter what. If I refuse to give it to you, you'll shoot me and take it from me, huh? That's the truth. You're new at this, aren't you? I know my way around. What happens when you shoot me here on the sidewalk? You fall down? Of course, eventually. But first, a woman screaming. There's always a woman who screams. And people start running toward us. And a cop comes tearing up. And what do you do during all of this, guy? Me. I run. The envelope. I take it out of your pocket before I run. Oh, you'll have time. When a man is shot, he doesn't just go plop like they do in the funny papers. First he clutches the spot where the bullet hit him and then he staggers around for a while. Then he lurches, swerves, sinks to one knee, gets up again. You know, nothing brings out the ham in a man like being shot. So you'll have to wait until I'm through with my dying act before you can reach into my pocket, Gus. By that time. Yeah, maybe you're right. There will be no charge for the lesson. Maybe I can teach you something. What? His rifle. Fire. Get down over here behind this car. Gus, you're wrong thing. I didn't lurch a stagger. No woman screamed, Gus. I didn't stay. Gus. I guess mine was the last lie you'll ever hear. Templar. Oh, Mr. Templar. Oh, it's you, fatty. Mr. Templar, I wish you wouldn't persist in calling me by that absurd name. Well, Rose by any other name. I suppose the same sort of reasoning applies to a rat. Well, is this the big moment? Roland Archibald's revenge? The payoff I was promised for the kick in the stomach I delivered? I would hardly honk my horn after you shot your name at the top of my voice on a busy thoroughfare. If it were my intention to kick you, Mr. Templer. No, I suppose you wouldn't. You park your car somewhere and stalk me from it with a high powered rifle. Well, you know, that sounds rather effective. I must bear it in mind for the future. I'm still bearing it in mind from the past. Kid named Gus caught the bullet for me. Huh? I don't quite understand. It's simple, Fatty. You missed me. You think that I. Oh, really, sir, this is most amusing. You won't hear Gus laughing. My dear Templar, I am an expert rifleman. If I had aimed at you, I shouldn't have missed you. But come, sir, the temper of this conversation is not at all what I didn't mind when I sought you out. No. I should like to suggest in our mistress a peace plan, as it were, with a loser paying a generous amount as reparations to the winner. Meaning that you wind up with a formula and I with the customary 30 pieces of silk. Oh, come, come, come, Templar. You make it sound as if treason were involved. I assure you the formula has nothing to do with any government project. Then what is it, Chubby? A recipe for sweet potato pie? A method of manufacturing quick frozen bourbon? What is it? The only person who can answer that is Dr. Vargas. Dr. Vargas. Vargas. Thanks. Where are you going, Mr. Templar? Consult a phone book. You've just given me the answer to another one of three puzzling initials, Chubby. I think I know now what the middle one stands for. Good morning. Good morning. May I help you? So this is VRL good old VRL I beg your pardon. I'd like to see Dr. Vargas. Dr. Vargas? You seem surprised. This is the Vargas Research Laboratories. VRL Cool. Of course. But Dr. Vargas never sees visitors. I'm not a visitor. What I've got in a small manila envelope practically makes me a member of the firm. I beg your pardon again. And on such short acquaintance. What? Merely tell the doctor it's probably a matter of life or death, but I've strict instructions never to interrupt the doctor. Who should I say is calling? Simon Templar. Simon assent. With a question mark. Where my halo ought to be. Do we know each other? No. Something tells me that we will. But until that happy moment. I got Templar. Send him right in. Hey, did you hear something? Something that sounded like artillery fire. With the ability to make words through that door, Mr. Templar. Thank you. Well, come in, come in. Don't take all day about it. You can close the door now. Sit down, Templar. I believe we have something to discuss. I have something to discuss with Dr. Vargas. And who am I supposed to be? Snow White? I'd rather not answer that. Let's get right to the heart of the Templar. I'm a busy woman. And I'm a puzzled man, Doctor. And one of the things that puzzles me is how you knew I was coming here. A friend told me to expect you. A friend who carries about 75 extra pounds and dislikes being called fatty. Not so sure I like your friends. And I'm not so sure I give a hang. Just for the record, I've been checked and double checked by almost every government agency in this and several other countries. Oh, then you are doing government work. Your fat friend is a terrible liar. Take it up with this clergyman. We're here to discuss a formula. One that somehow found its way out of this laboratory and into your pocket. You have it. Yeah, it's burning a hole in that pocket. Toss it over. This is what the fuss is all about. That. Good day, Templar. Yes, it is rather nice, huh? Then please feel free to go out and enjoy it. And take this mishmash with you. Mishmash, gibberish, prattle, nonsense. Pick your own word. The word I pick is why. Why? Why what? Look, if this formula is mishmash, why does a fat man named Archibald want it so badly? Why does a kid named Gus threatened to gun me down for it and wind up getting a rifle slug ride into another world? And why is a new suit delivered with a bullet hole over the heart? And why did. I'm a scientist, not a policeman. Goodbye, Mr. Dr. Vargas. Excuse me. Yes? You were in the laboratory right away. Okay. Mr. Templer was just leaving. Will you show him out, Ms. Fernandez? Did. Did she say Fernandez? That's my name. Gene Fernandez. And I'm delighted to hear it. You have a father? A husband perhaps? Or is it a brother who might be mysteriously absent? He knew it. Oh, Mr. Templer, you must help me. You must. How? But my brother, Louis. No, he can't talk here. Later. Here's my address. And if you see a certain beef trust named Archibald before I do, don't tell him your name is Fernandez. He knows. Oh, Mr. Temple, I'm afraid. I'm afraid. Who is it? It's Isa Finley. May I see you for a moment? Come in, Finley. Now, don't tell me you've made me a new coat this size. Sorry, Mr. Templar, I could hardly do justice to my craft if I. Mr. Templar, I have a problem. Judging from the record, you've come to the right place to unload it. It's that object you found in the suit I delivered yesterday, sir. The mineral envelope? Yes, sir. A gentleman called at my shop today inquiring for it. He insists that the envelope, as he is in demands its return. A fat gentleman? No, sir, rather thin gentleman. He. His name is Fernandez. Hmm, I doubt it. Pardon? Did he tell you how the envelope happened to be found in my suit? Yes, sir, he did. He was in for a fitting himself the other day. Fernandez? Yes, sir. Fernandez. He says he saw your coat hanging on the rack, admired it and on an impulse tried it on. The envelope had been in his hands at the time and he just slipped it into the pocket and then forgot about it, huh? So he informed me, sir. Now he's threatening me with legal action of. Tell the gentleman to call here for the envelope, Finley. If he can identify the contents, he can have it. That sounds reasonable enough, Mr. Templer. I'll tell him. Good day, sir, and thank you. Oh, Finley. Yes, sir? Tell the gentleman I'll expect an explanation about that bullet hole in my coat. You know, I'm dying to hear how the gentleman gets around that one. Who is it this time? It's just me, Gene Fernandez. Quick, let me in. I expected you hours ago. I couldn't get away. I mean, when I did, he followed me. I. I had to lose him. Who? The fat man, Archibald. You know, it's remarkable that he stays that fat getting around as much as he does. Mr. Templar, please. I haven't seen a word from in three days. Do you know where? No, but I thought. I thought. It isn't what you thought or what you think that's going to find your brother, Jean. It's what you know. What I know? I don't understand, Jean. What's your brother mixed up in? No, I can't tell you. I came here because I thought you knew where Lewis is. I'm going now. Do you want to see your brother again? Alive? What? What do you mean? The first and last I heard of your brother was when Fatty told me about putting lighted matches under his fingernails. No, no, I didn't mean to break it to you so ungently, but you've got to be made to realize that. Unless you tell me what. All right, I'll tell you. But you must help me find Lewis. You must. And I will. Now, first, that formula that seems to be so important and yet isn't. I did that. You did what? Begin at the beginning. It's a good place to begin from. When Lewis was a very young man in his teens. He was restless, nervous, neurotic. The doctor called the type witch. With a few lies here and a little propaganda there is easily convinced that there's nothing more noble than a certain form of politics, huh? He Joined the movement and rose rapidly. And he was slated for big things. Till one day he stopped being restless and neurotic and looked at himself and what he'd become with disgust. And so he quit. Oh, he only thought he quit. All these years, he. He didn't have the slightest connection with him. Never dreamed that they'd seek him out again. And I'd expect him to. They wanted something from him, huh? Something that he could get for them easier than anyone else could. Well, they found out where I was working. They knew that Dr. Vargas was conducting important experiments. And they had no better proposition. Either he was to make me give him the Vagus formula, or he was to be. To be executed. Oh, can't you see why I'm so worried? Especially since the formula you gave your brother to pass along was a phony. That's right. I couldn't give him the real one. Not even to save his life. I assumed I couldn't. So I copied things from papers the doctor had thrown away. A little bit of each of the square discarded papers. I thought it would work, that. That I'd fool them. Lewis doesn't know. He. He took it from me. Said goodbye. And you haven't seen him since? Did he tell you where he was bringing the supposed formula? Who he was giving it to? He said I'd be safer if I didn't know. He merely said that he was going to meet a man who'd been one of their cleverest agents for years. One of the most important men in the organization. It must be him. It must be Daddy. What makes you think so? Why else would he follow me? Why else would he? Where are you going? To look out the window. I want to see if he's there. No. Jean. Get away from that window. I just want to see if somebody's been playing 4th of July with a high powered rifle. This is no time to stand there. Jean. Get down. Gene. Gene. Oh. Oh, hello. Welcome home again. Come in, Mr. Templar. Come in, sir. Someday I'll open the door of my apartment. Walk in. And this time you went quite so neat about it, Fatty. The name is Archibald. And this time, Mr. Templer, it was someone else. Someone with deplorably messy habits who searched your apartment. You've been to the hospital? Yes. Ms. Fernandez is. She'll live. How about a brother? Will he? He's still in the coma. I suppose we discuss Roland P. Archibald and what brings him here this time? My dear sir, the formula, naturally. No, Roland, not the formula. I'm certain Dr. Vargas must have told you by now that the. Why should she tell me anything? Because of what you are, Roland. Something had been stolen from the laboratory. So you set out to bring it back. That's your job. We're both on the same team. But my dear Templar, I'm the villain in this opera. And the fellow who swore that he'd have your life. Remember your cover? You were making like the criminal element as a cover up. You're a counter intelligence agent. Am I? Yeah. I began to get on to you into what part you were playing in the. When I called on Vargas this morning, she was expecting me. The only one who could possibly have told her that I'd be dropping in was you. And so the doctor is doing important work. She's been security checked from here to Sunday. So since you're playing ball with her, you must be playing for the home team. Have you anything at all that might help us find out who pressured Fernandez to go after the formula? He's the same man who's been shooting off his rifle. If we could only find out. I know who he is. You do? Sure. Fernandez gets the formula from his sister, goes to deliver it, has a few unpleasant words with Uncle Joe's one man spy ring and they start fighting with guns. My new suit is a casualty. So was Fernandez. But he managed to get away and come to us. He's been in a coma ever since. Keeps muttering your name and the words in the pocket. In the pocket which led you to me and the pocket I was wearing inside instead of the pocket of the new suit that was hanging in the shop with my name on it. Would you mind explaining? Fernandez wasn't sure he'd be able to get away. So he hid the manila envelope with the formula in the pocket of my new suit. Get away. Get away from where? From the tailor shop where he went to meet the spy. But why the tailor shop? Why? Because the spy has a cover identity too. He happens to be a. Clap your hands, both of you. I was saying he happens to be a tailor. A tailor named Finley. Keep those hands up. A tailor named Finley, who one day tells me he's never heard of a man named Fernandez. And the next day tells me an old customer named Fernandes is called to claim the manila envelope. You're very clever, Mr. Templar. But where did you come from just now? Where were you hiding? I was in the closet. Fatty. You very rudely dropped in here while I was going through Mr. Templar's things just before. Still looking for that old use of manila envelope, eh, Finley? Yes, but the Search seems to be about over, Mr. Templar, sir. Oh, I know what you're going to say. It's worthless. Don't waste your words, your last words. Just take the envelope out of your pocket and hand it over. If you insist. And I see that you do. Careful, Saint. Very careful. Now, something is funny. Yes? I was just thinking, wouldn't it be amusing if when he reached into his pocket, instead of bringing out an envelope, he brought out a gun? He wouldn't live long enough to point it. You have a gun, Templar? A gun? Oh, why, of course not. Wait. Stay just as you are, Templar. I'll take the envelope from your pocket myself. Playing it cagey, huh? In my profession, it. Which pocket? This one. Oh, that's splendid, Mr. Templar. Splendid, splendid. You must teach me that kick trick sometime. And the knockout punch was magnificent. Oh, I enjoyed it. Thank you. But I don't think you enjoyed it nearly as much as I did. In fact, Fatty, I'm a little sorry it's over. Oh, Mr. Templar, for the last time, the name is. Yes? Never mind. I think you've earned the right to call me Fatty. You have been listening to another transcribed Adventure of the Saint, the Robin Hood of modern crime. Now here is our star, Vincent Price. Ladies and gentlemen, in tonight's cast, you heard Patricia Jepsen as Gene and Bill Conrad as Archibald. Jack Moyles was Finley Whitfield, Connors Murphy. Sam Edwards played Gus and Jody Gilbert. Dr. Vargas, this is Vincent Price inviting you to join us again next week at the same time for another exciting adventure of the Saint. Good night. Tonight's script of the Saint was written by Michael Cramoy. The Saint, based on characters created by Leslie Charters, is a James L. Safia production and is directed by Helen Mack. Vincent Price is soon to be seen co starring with Errol Flynn and Michelin Prell in William Marshall's production of Bloodline. All you Saint fans will be glad to know that the Saint comic books are on sale at all newsstands. Your announcer is Don Stanley. Three chimes mean good times on NBC. There's fun today and every Sunday with two of your favorite families. On NBC, there's the Blanding's family with more perplexing adventures in their famous dream house. Starring Cary Grant and Betsy Drake as Mr. And Mrs. Blanding. And Sunday also means the Harris family with Frankie Julius and all the other favorites of the Phil Harris Alice Fay show. And today here, Judy Holiday, Jimmy Durante, Carmen Miranda on the big show on NBC, Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. The refreshing Delicious treat that gives you chewing enjoyment Presents for your listening enjoyment. John Lund as Johnny Dollar, New York police department calling. Mr. Dollar. Will you accept the charges? Yeah, put them on. Just a moment, please. Ready with your call to heart for Connecticut. Go ahead. Hello, Dollar? That's right. This is Sergeant Papish, Robbery. Have a notation here you're the one to contact in the case that came up. Allied Adjustment Bureau. Well, I've done a lot of work for him. What's it about, Sergeant? Well, we've recovered a mink coat you were looking for about six months ago. Oh, yeah? Stolen from a party named Jacoby in Rochester. The Jacobys are in Europe right now, but the already identified it as the one he sold to him. Jacoby, Rochester. Yeah. Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember. It was insured for $5,000. There's some other things taken in the same hall. A watch, rings, bracelets. That's the job so far we just have the coat and the girl who was wearing it. What did she say? Nothing so far. She's got a couple of bullet holes in her. Maybe I better get down there, Sergeant. Room 212. Sergeant Papish. Right. The makers of Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum bring you John Lund in a transcribed adventure of the man with the action packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Doll. Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum refreshes you. Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum gives you real chewing enjoyment. Yes, for chewing enjoyment plus refreshment, it's Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. The lively, delicious flavor of Wrigley Spearmint cools your mouth, helps keep your throat moist and gives you a nice little lift. The good smooth chewing of Wrigley Spearmint helps keep you feeling fresh and alert. Adds enjoyment to whatever you're doing. So for chewing enjoyment plus refreshment, treat yourself often to Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Healthful, refreshing, delicious. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to the Allied Adjustment Bureau, Markham Building, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Rochester theft matter. Expense account, item one, $1.65. Person to person, collect call from Sergeant Papish, New York Police Department. Item two, $32.56 train fare and incidentals between Hartford and New York City. After clearing authority to resume on the Jacoby case. It had been stalemated six months before when the Rochester police and I were unable to recover any part of the items stolen from The Jacoby residence. I arrived in New York at 1:35, dropped my bags off at the New Western, then went directly to the Metropolitan Police Station. Hello. I wonder if you could help me. I'm looking for Sergeant Papish. I'm Papish. Oh, Johnny Dollar, Sergeant. Oh, thanks for coming down, Dollar. Have a chair. Oh, thanks. Your mink coates in the crime lab? They're looking it over. Uh huh. You still haven't found out much about the girl who was wearing it. What's her name? Just Jane Doe for now. We didn't have her prints on file here, but we're waiting to hear from Washington now. She's been unconscious ever since we picked her up. Pretty bad shape. Now, what exactly happened? It came in as a complaint about 3 this morning. Woman over on 57th street telephoned about a disturbance. Prowl car went over to the address and found this girl lying in the entrance to the apartment house wearing the mink coat. She'd been shot twice. No one in the apartment house seemed to know her or had ever seen her before. We asked about the neighborhood. No dice. But we did find out how she got there. Oh, a lady across the street said she saw a man drive up sometime after midnight and unload the girl from his car. She was able to give us a fair description of the car and the man. Yeah, nice. But nothing definite. No license number or anything like that. Could be any car and any man from what she said. Got an APB out, of course. Was there a purse or anything? Nothing. The dress she was wearing came from a store downtown. Hundreds just like it. The coat was the only item that might have helped. And it turned up listed in the stolen property file. How about jewelry? Small diamond ring on her little finger. I looked over taken in that Jacoby robbery. It doesn't fit any of those. You can look at it if you want to. I'll take your word for it. Suppose the insurance company paid off the claim? Yeah, the whole thing. Well, at least we have the coat back for you. Maybe we'll get a line on the other things when this girl regains consciousness. If she does. Pretty bad, is it? Yeah. Nice looking girl too. Only about 25 or so. Excuse me. Sure. Robbery. Sergeant Pabish. Oh, let me get it down here. 213 West. Right. Okay. See you there. Bye. Just got an answer from Washington. They able to identify the girl? Yeah, dress and all. She had a postal savings once. Name's Eileen Madden. You mind if I go with you? Come on. Maybe you'll get back all of your loot. I accompanied Sergeant Papish to the address for Eileen Madden. Turned out to be a fairly nice apartment in a fairly nice neighborhood. By the time we arrived there, a full crew of technicians were at work giving the place a complete check. Sergeant Papish introduced. Introduced me to a tall, heavy set man. This is Mr. Dollar from the insurance company, Walt. Sergeant Walter. Hi. How are you, Sergeant? Oh, fine. I'm afraid we haven't done any good for you so far. Haven't found anything here to go with that mink coat. Oh. Have you talked to anybody around here yet? Just getting started on it. The lady who lives across the hall might be able to help us. Where is she? In there. Her Name's Ethel Stromberg. Mrs. Okay, I'll take it here. Right. Uh, are you Mrs. Stromberg? Yes, I am. I'm Sergeant Papish. This is Mr. Dollar. How do you do? How do you do? How is poor Eileen? Not very good, Mrs. Stromberg. She's still unconscious. Oh, dear, that's terrible. It's just a terrible thing. Where is she? I'd like to go to see her if it's possible. She's at the police emergency hospital right now, Mrs. Stromberg. I'll have him phone you when she can see people. Well, thank you. What an awful thing. How did that happen? What's that all about? Maybe you can tell us something about her, Mrs. Stromberg. Where she worked, how she lived, what people she knew. Oh, dear. How long have you known her? Well, I moved in here about five months ago. I met her the very first day. Nice girl. Oh, yes, very nice. Very nice. Very nice girl. Quiet, minded her own business. You know where we can contact her family? No, I can't help you there, Sergeant. I. I know they live somewhere in California, but that's about all. She talks about them now and then. How about her friends here in town? What about them? Does she talk about any of her friends? Do you? What do you mean? Well, she's a pretty girl. Young boyfriends, maybe. Yes, she did talk about some nuns. And you suppose one of them had something? Mrs. Stromberg, Eileen Madden was dumped from a convertible last night after she'd been shot. A witness described the car as possibly blue or black in color. White top, white sidewalls. She said it was a late model Cadillac or Buick. Do you know if any of Ms. Madden's friends drove a car that comes near that description at all? Why, yes. Yes, I saw him pick her up one night. I was just coming home, Saw who pick her up, Mrs. Stromberg? A man she called Bill. Bill who? I really don't know his last name. She didn't introduce me to him. But she talks about him. He drove a black Cadillac. Can you tell us what he looks like? Well, he seemed very tall. As tall as Sergeant Papershire. So about your height. Very nice looking. He seemed quite big. Husky, sort of. Very nicely dressed, too. What color was his hair? I don't know. He always wore a hat. I think it was dark, though. His eyes, I don't know about. How old would you say? I'm no good at this, but I say between 30 and 35. Seems to fit what we have from the witness. Yeah. This Bill, would you say he had money? Oh, yes, I would say so. He drove that nice big convertible. He always dressed so nice. And he gave Eileen pretty nice things. Do you know if he ever gave her any jewelry? I don't know. I don't think so. Eileen would usually run across the hall and show me when he sent her something nice. I don't remember her ever showing me any jewelry. I just talked to the hospital. How is she? Just coming around. I think you better go over there and talk to her if you're gonna. Is she bad? I think she's dying, Mrs. Stromberg. Think she'll make it? Hard to say right now. Sometimes they rally. She must have been in that doorway a half hour or better before we got to her. She said anything, Doctor? No. You might have to wait a little while for her to come around. You see, I'll tell you both. Ask what you have to know quick. Two minutes is about all I can give you with it. Sure, Doctor. Oh, you better put your cigarettes in that. Oh, yeah. Yeah. All right, miss. Okay, boys. Is she conscious? Yeah, she can hear you. Are you Eileen Madden? Is Eileen Madden your name? Yes. Yes. You're seriously hurt, Ms. Madden. Can you tell us how it happened, Ms. Madden? No. Bill shot you? Yes. What's Bill's name? Where can we find him, Doctor? Watch. Nurse, hand me that. Sorry, fellas, there was nothing I could do. Friends, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you'll enjoy chewing Wrigley's Spearmint Gum. Chew Wrigley Spearmint while you're working. The lively, full bodied flavor of Wrigley's Spearmint gives you a refreshing little lift. The smooth, pleasant chewing of Wrigley Spearmint Gum helps keep you feeling relaxed and satisfied. Makes your job seem easier. Chew Wrigley Spearmint Gum in your home when you're out walking or driving when you're enjoying sports and other activities. Wrigley's Spearmint Gum tastes good anytime and the natural chewing aids digestion and helps keep your teeth bright and attractive. Yes, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you'll enjoy chewing. Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Healthful, refreshing, delicious. And now with our star, John Lund, we bring you the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Eileen Madden died at 3:35 in the afternoon without giving us a full name of the man who shot her the night before. I stayed with Sergeant Papish and Sergeant William Walters as they continue their investigation of her death and the appearance of the mink coat covered in policy number 27M 55567, issued to Roland J. Jacoby, Rochester, New York. The apartment where she had lived yielded some information. Here it is. Letters from Robert J. Madden in Riverside, California. Looks like her father. Okay, we'd better notify him. This might be the best lead. What's that? This picture found in one of her closets. Let's see. Hmm. Valer. Oh, thanks. Love, Bill. He loved her, all right. Yeah. Anybody identified this yet? Mr. Stromberg's supposed to be here right now. What time you got? Oh, half past. She said she'd be here at 6. Anything on the bullets? They didn't check with anything in our lab. Ballistic says it was an army.45 kill, 1911 model. Pretty good gun for killing. What gun isn't? Oh, I got the wrong room at first. Oh, come in. Mr. Stromberg, you remember Sergeant Papy and Mr. Dollar? Yes. Do I have to answer more questions? Not many more. I'm just all worn out. I can't get over this terrible thing happening to Eileen. Did you get in touch with her? Family business Office is doing it right now. Oh, dear. What a terrible, terrible thing. Mrs. Stromberg, you ever seen this man before? Oh, yes, that's Bill. The man Eileen's been going with. Yes, the man who drives the black Cadillac convertibles. Yes, that's him. But did he do this terrible thing? It looks that way, Mrs. Stromberg. Oh, dear, dear Sergeant Pavish. Yeah, yeah, right. Goodbye. Did Eileen Madden ever mention to you that she had been married? Why, no, she never did. Why? She in the State of New York in 1951. Just found out from vitals. Divorced? Yeah. Her ex husband's name is bill. Bill Powers. Sergeant Papish, this is Mr. Dollar. How do you do? What's the matter? May we come inside, Mr. Powers? Sure. Well, what's this all about? Do you know a woman Named Eileen Madden, Mr. Powers? Yeah, sure. We were married once. Why? Eileen Madden was shot to death last night, Mr. Powers. Eileen? Yes. Are you sure? I. We checked her prints. Oh, shut. Yes. What. What happened? I. How. How could a thing like that happen? That's what we're trying to find out, Mr. Powers. I. I can't believe it. Eileen did. Have you seen her lately? Yeah, I. I saw her last week. Had a drink together. Are you sure it's Eileen? We'd make sure before we came around with news like this. Mr. Dollar represents an insurance company, Mr. Powers. Ms. Madden was wearing a stolen coat when we found her. Stolen coat? Yes, a stolen mink coat. Was she ever in trouble anywhere? I don't care what she was wearing. I didn't never steal anything. She was a fine girl, a wonderful girl. I was a fool to ever let our marriage go on the rocks. Can you come with us, Mr. Powers? Where? We need a positive identification. Sure. Sure, Sergeant. I'll be right with you. Want to smoke? Thanks. Well, he isn't the bird in the picture. No. Did you see the car in the driveway? Yeah. 51 Caddy, black convertible. On the way to the city morgue with the ex husband of Eileen Madden. We tried to get more information from him regarding her activities up till the time of her death, but Power seemed so distraught that he could only speak of their short marriage and the reason it had ended. It was an old and especially sad story of a man who couldn't provide well enough for a beautiful wife. However, once he'd seen her body at the morgue and identified it, he seemed to get better control of himself. We all walked across the street for coffee. I hope you get whoever did this, Sergeant. I hope you get them fast. We sure want to, Mr. Powers. Why would anybody do that to Eileen? Why? Maybe you can help us answer that. Oh, you're just interested in that coat you say she was wearing. Well, Mr. I don't believe she was wearing a stolen coat. What do you think of that? I'm just looking for the facts, Mr. Powers. I'd like to prove what you just said as badly as you'd like to have it proved. But we have to start somewhere. You can understand that. I suppose so. You told us you saw her last week for a drink. That's right. Have you been seeing her right along? Yeah, sure. Did you know that she's been going with somebody else? Sure. Then you know Bill. Bill Chambers? Yeah. Well, I. I don't know him. But she Talked about him a lot. Is this Bill Chambers, Mr. Powers? Yeah, that's him. I thought you knew. You're sure this is him? I'm sure. This picture was in her place. I went there one day and saw it and asked her who he was. He told me all about him. What did she tell you about him? Why, she said she was going with him. She. She told me that he wanted to marry her. Said he had lots of money. She tell you where he works? No. Or what kind of work he does? No. You know where we can get in touch with him? No, I don't know that either. I say, do you think he might have done this to her? We'd like to talk to him. I. I know she's been going with him for a few months. What? She told me. And you've been seeing her the same time she was seeing Chambers? Yeah. Yeah, that's right. She didn't want to marry him. She wanted to marry me again. You know what kind of a car Chambers drives? Cadillac. Thought you never met him. Well, she told me about his car. It's another thing. I went out and bought one myself. I thought it might do me some good with her. Were you at home last night? Yeah. Can you prove it? Yeah, I was home. She was out getting killed. The name William Chambers was checked through the New York Police files. They listed 24 persons who more or less fit his general description. Took two days to locate and talk with all of them. Neither Mrs. Stromberg nor the witness who had seen the body dumped from the car could identify any of them. And all points bulletin regarding the suspect and his car had been issued as soon as we learned his name. Same report. Results, nothing. On the third day, the pawn shop detail turned up two more items that have been taken in the Jacoby robbery. There they are. Huh? Watch and ring. Jacoby stuff. Case numbers on the watch checkout. The rings engraved. Where'd they wind up? Shop on 3rd Street. The proprietor says it was sold yesterday. Man who sold him signed the buy book. James Ajenian. How about his description? Fitz Chambers? Down the line. Well, at least he was still in town yesterday. Yeah, but his stuff's been on the hot sheet for a long time. If he's had any experience at all, he knew he was taking a chance trying to unload it. Probably trying to raise cash to get out of town. That's what I was thinking. Gave an address on Polk Street, a vacant lot. If he keeps on trying to unload it, I'll have all the loot back. If he Keeps on trying we'll keep on trying. Well, I found his car. Where? Used car lot in the Bronx. He sold it at 10 o' clock this morning at the used car lot. We learned that a man answering the description of William Chambers had driven in that morning and offered a black 51 Cadillac convertible for sale. The used car lot managed had finally settled on a price and made out a check. He reported that the man had seemed extremely nervous and anxious to make a quick deal. Car was impounded and examined. A full set of fingerprints on the steering wheel and dashboard gave us a positive identification of William Chambers. William Carlson, alias William Carls. William Charles Walter Cameron. Male Caucasian, age 33. 178-611. Let's see. 14 arrests, two convictions. Both car theft. Quite a lad, Aren't they all? Doesn't look like a killer, though, does he? I don't know. What's a killer supposed to look like? The search to locate William Carlson, alias William Chambers, extended to all parts of the city. The associates and relatives listed in his criminal file were contacted and questioned. All of them denied having any knowledge of his whereabouts. In the meantime, two more pieces of stolen property connected with the Jacoby theft were recovered by the pawn shop. Detailed. Each of the pawn shop proprietors identified the mugshot of the wanted man. He used different names in each instance. The handwriting was the same. Same. Each address had to be checked out. I went with Sergeant Papish to the one he had given on 78th Street. It was not a vacant lot. Hello? Hello. We're looking for William Courtney. You found him, huh? Cops. Yeah, come on in. Hold still. I'm clean. Checked me through the buy book yesterday. Yeah. Your name's Carlson, isn't it? William Carlson? Yep. We've been looking a long time for you. I know. Yesterday I decided I'd let you find me. I gave my right address. You want to get your hat? Sure. Look, I didn't mean to kill Eileen. I didn't mean to at all. I want you to know that. Let's talk about it downtown. No. No, we won't. I'm not talking to anybody downtown. I'm talking to you two right now. And that's it. You better listen, okay? I've been doing pretty good with these house jobs. Real good enough to buy myself a nice car, get some clothes, get around a little bit. I work all alone. I met her. I liked her. I wanted to marry her. I did. I really did. We went out the other night and I gave her the mink coat for a present. I thought that had sent you. She didn't want to take it. She told me she was gonna marry some guy she'd been married to before I let her have it. That's all. That's all? That's it. Mister. I could have run, sold my car. Getting rid of a lot of odds and ends I have around. I decided not to after all. I don't wanna run. Okay, let's get with it. Remember, I let you get me. I wrote my address right down where I knew you'd check it out. Okay, there's no more talking. You two got it all straight? What's the matter with you anyway? You got it all? I mean, about everything. Yeah, I've got it. Okay. Hey, wait a minute. You guys are too late. I. I took it when I heard you knock on the door. Where's the phone? Too late, I tell you. It's in my stomach now. Too late? Not for me, brother. I handle plenty of babies just like you. Nothing's too late. Grab a messy go. Shut up. You're gonna stand trial, baby. Sergeant Pepish had handled attempted suicides. A lot of them. And in the five minutes before the arrival of the emergency ambulance, you managed to force William Carlson to take an antidote that saved his life. The remainder of the Jacoby theft. Items were found in and around the apartment of the suspect along with other suspects stolen property listed with the New York police. All of the articles on the enclosed list have been impounded and will be available following the trial of William Carlson. Expense account. Item 3. Hotel and board while in New York. $88.65. Item 4. Same as item 2. Transportation back to Hartford. Expense account. Total $155 2042. Remarks. Please file a copy of the above report for the information of William Powers in regard to his ex wife, Eileen Madden. I think this is what he wanted. Well, that's it. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Remember, friends, Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum refreshes you. Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum gives you real chewing enjoyment. The lively, full bodied flavor of Wrigley Spearmint cools your mouth, freshens your taste, sweetens your breath. The smooth, pleasant chewing of Wrigley Spearmint helps keep you feeling relaxed and satisfied. Makes whatever you're doing more enjoyable. Yes. For refreshment plus chewing enjoyment, treat yourself often to Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Millions enjoy it daily. Get a few packages and always keep some handy. That's Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Healthful, refreshing, delicious. Yours Truly Johnny Dollar brought to you by Wrigley Spearmint Chewing Gum stars John Lund in the title role and was written by E. Jack Newman with music by Eddie Dunstetter. Featured in tonight's cast were Virginia Gregg, John McIntyre, Jim Nusser, Jeanette Nolan, Victor Perrin, and Bill Johnstone. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar is transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle, the makers of Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. Hope you enjoyed tonight's story of Johnny Dollar and that you're enjoying delicious Wrigley's Spearmint Gum every day. This is Charles Lyon inviting you to join us again next week at this same time when from Hollywood, John Lund returns as yours truly, Johnny Doll. We just heard Let George Do It, Philo Vance, Richard diamond the Saint and Johnny Dollar. 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 are out on Thursday. If you like what you're hearing, don't be a stranger. You can rate and review the show in Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen. And if you'd like to lend support to the show, you can visit buymeacoffee.com meanstsotr I'll be back next week with more Old Time Radio crime fighters. But until then, good night and happy listening. Sam now here is our star, Vincent Price. Ladies and gentlemen, In a prejudice filled America, no one would be secure in his job, his business, his church or his home. Yet racial and religious antagonisms are exploited daily by 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.