← The Great Detectives of Old Time Radio| Daily Mystery Dramas
The Great Detectives of Old Time Radio| Daily Mystery Dramas
Broadway's My Beat: The Frank Dunn Murder Case (EP4858)
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Today's Mystery: Danny investigates the shooting death of a bartender. Original Radio Broadcast Date: June 16, 1951 Originating from Hollywood Starring: Larry Thor as Lieutenant Danny Clover; Charles Calvert as Sergeant Gino Tartaglia; Jack...
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So time with our pets is extra precious. That's why we started Dutch. Dutch provides 247 access to licensed vets with unlimited virtual visits and follow ups for up to five pets. You can message a vet at any time and schedule a video visit the same day. Our vets can even prescribe medication for many ailments and shipping is always free. With Dutch, you'll get more time with your pets and year round peace of mind when it comes to their vet care. Go to Dutch.com to get vet care that is always there for just $92 a year. Sam. Welcome to the Great Detectives of Old Time Radio from Boise, Idaho. This is your host, Adam Graham. In a moment, we're going to bring you this week's episode of Broadway's My Beat. But first, I do want to encourage you. If you are enjoying the podcast, please follow us using your favorite podcast software and today's program is brought to you in part by the financial support of our listeners. You can support the show on a one time basis using the Zella app to box 13@greatdetectives.net or become one of our ongoing Patreon supporters for as little as $2 per month at patreon.greatdetectives.net now from June 16, 1951, here is the Frank Dunn murder. Broadway's My Beat. From Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world, Broadway is my beat. With larry thor as detective danny clover. The summer evening flows gently over Broadway and the carousel sounds of the street's Carnival begin. The brazen trumpet screams calling the believers to the basement. Sanctuaries at a dime a prayer. The barkers of the night shout their spiels into passing ears and the rustle of perfumed silk rides the June wind. You're shoved and pushed and mauled. There's no bitterness because the taste of night melts in. You ride the rides, walk the midway, toss the hoop to win the kewpie. You try not to notice the plucking at your sleeve, but finally you turn. Your palm is crossed with violence. You hold onto it until the man in the tweed jacket and the gray flannel slacks takes it away from you, gives death back to the other man, its owner sprawled across the silk sheets of his bed, the blood from his bullet wound draining the sleep out of him. And because blood like that can stain the reputation of an exclusive apartment hotel, the man in tweed makes a suggestion. I offer it. In all modesty, Mr. Clover, a mere suggestion, this can be. Can be what, Mr. Tracy? What? Can it be handled discreetly? Of course. You can do that. You have the power, the know how. Keep it out of the papers. Treat the frightful mess with velvet gloves. Anything else I. Nothing more I can think of at the moment. Not that I can bring to mind at the snap of your fingers. That's good. Now you can do something for me. Understand me, Mr. Clover. Managing this place is all consuming. I spent years at school here and abroad learning the quirks, the ins and outs of the profession, all that education. Maybe you can spell out for me the murdered man's name. Did I forget to introduce you? Pity. Fellow over there on our bed was once Frank Dunn, a bartender of all things. A rather crude chap, I thought, but genteel enough to pay the tab in this slick joint of yours. They do bartenders like Dunn? Well, at the Trade Winds, I hear. The club on West 52nd. I wouldn't know where the place was. Do you mind? Tell me more about Dunn. Well, he appealed to the female of the species, shall we say? They called on him constantly, at all hours tonight? Difficult to say. But do you not detect the faint odor of a lingering perfume? The aura a woman leaves? Pardon? I'll rid us of that. Never mind. I'll get him. Hello? Hello, Frank? Would you put Frank on the line, please? Frank just stepped out. Could I give him a message? Who are you? Why do you answer for Frank? I know he's there. Does he not wish to speak with me? Who is this? Who shall I say is calling? No, no, there is Something. This is not the way Frank would have it with me. Hello? Hello. Yes, please. This is the police. Operator. Trace that call. And the call was traced. Drugstore on 43rd and Broadway. Phone booth there, the third one from the left as you passed the Chiron reducing display. Only who knows who's been using the phone? The clerk in the white coat asked me. You don't have to have friends in Washington to use the phone, mister. You need a dime. That's all. Anyway, what was she, a spy or something? So that's all. He had work to do. He left. So did I. It was a short walk up to 1550 Second street in the nightclub that's known as the Trade Winds. Outside, a beach boy in a custom made loincloth said aloha and pointed inside. And inside, a beach girl said aloha and offered her nose to be rubbed. Which came with a cover charge. The price of admission to tropical paradise. And it was even to the tropical birds playing tropical games and singing their sad songs in huge cages of gilded bamboo. And sitting in a fan shaped wicker chair in the corner was trader Milt Barker, wearing yellowed linen, his eyes bleary with the grandeur of it all. Until he saw me. Hey, Danny, grab yourself a wicker and take a load off. What a place you have here, Milt. Wait till you see the floor show, Danny. Got a dame here does a routine on a bed of hot coals. Milt, eh? You try the authentic cuisine yet? You like fish? I got cold. Huma, huma nuka nuka appa wa. That would set you crazy. You sit still. I'll slice you some from the middle. Sit down, Milt, huh? All right, so I'm sitting, I'm sitting. So, about a bartender here, Frank Dunn. Frank Lee ain't showed up yet. Tonight he commits something. He's been murdered. Kismet. Pure kismet. Fate, Danny. The way the department figures it took a murderer to do it. Yeah, I guess. How'd he go out? Shot. Like I say, kismet. What are you talking about? A guy like Frank, it figures. It just don't make me surprised. Come on, Milt, talk to me. What's on your mind? Well, he served smiles with the tall cool ones. When Frank wiped the bar in front of a female patronesses, it had a meaning all its own personality. Keep talking. Well, Danny, a guy like him, well, dame would be embarrassed leaving less than a fin or a phone number for a chip. Did he cause any trouble here, Frank? No, an operator with a head on him. Wait until the male escort was occupied elsewhere then? Well, Frank would drop a small onion in the cocktail glass in such a way that patronesses would leave teeth marks on the bar. Like for instance. For instance who? Louise Hathaway is current, Danny. You know the dame who is Mrs. To Edward Hathaway. The guy who manufactures hardware. You know Hathaway's hardware? Nails, holes. Yeah. Tell me more about Mrs. Hathaway. She's current. That's all I know on it. Come on, Danny, eat some of my cuisine. I'll make you a regular lava lava. And so as the surprise pink spotlight dimmed slowly over Trader Milt's Paradise, I heaved a sigh for the regular lava lava that would never touch my lips and bid a fond farewell to the land of the Humahuma Kukanuka Apawa. At the park avenue apartment of Mr. And Mrs. Edward Hathaway, a maid in gray silk and high spiked heels told me they were out for the evening. She tightened a black shoulder strap to inform me that the Hathaways never informed a person in what glamorous places they were boozing it up, that this usually took till dawn. I said I'd come back in the morning. She said sometimes a person didn't know what side his evening was buttered on and kicked the door shut with her heel. I guess I didn't wait the polite and proper interval after dawn because the girl who opened the door to me this time was still yawning. Another thing. The long night had left no scar on her kind of beauty. Can't it wait? Whatever you want, can't it wait? You're Louise Hathaway. Uh huh. Sleepy Louise. Tired Louise. If you weren't a stranger, you could rock me back to sleep. I needed so. I'm from the police. Danny Clover. Oh, you're the one Celeste told me about. Celeste? The maid. What do you think of her? She thought much of you. Come on in. Tell me about it. Celeste's in bed. I let her stay because we dragged her out of it when we came in. Couldn't find the keys, you know how it is. But I'll drag her out again to whip up some eggs for us if you like. No thanks. Big night last night, huh? Ah, the biggest. You build a lovely city here, officer. Lovely and fair. And at night it glistens. Frank Dunn. Was he a part of the night? You just played the only sad note there is. Officer Frank wasn't in it. Not anywhere. Why do you play a sad note like that to me? Because he's dead. Murdered. I don't think I'd ever let you rock me to sleep. You're cruel, Frank. What about him? I wouldn't know about him. Wise man. Once it got bad and I tried to. Frank winked, grinned, splashed whiskey on my dress. That's all. Just a clumsy bartender. So much more, you'll never know. Once I was at the Trade Winds having dinner with hubby mine. And there was a phone call for me. And I took it. And it was Frank calling me from the bar. And hubby mine didn't know why I suddenly turned happy. He had sense enough not to ask. Your husband knows how you felt about Frank? I don't know. I don't care. I always made him tip Frank a lot of money. Take him with us after he was through work. Well, it's gonna be cheaper for a hubby mine with Frank on. For me. For me. Such a high price, I don't mind telling you. Will you wake your husband, Mrs. Hathaway? I want to talk to him. He's awake. You can talk to him at his factory, Hathaway's Hardware Incorporated. Always the first man there sleeps an hour after I've kept him up the night and off to the factory. Off to make a bed of nails for me. Off. Just stay here in case we want you, Mrs. Hathaway. So you can talk more to me about Frank. It'll be a pleasure, deep and fair. A pleasure anytime. That'll be all, Ms. Garvey. All right, sir. Who are you? I gave my name at the gate. Danny Clover. From the police, aren't you? That's right. What's on your mind? I just came from your house, Mr. Hathaway. My house? What's the. The big idea? What did you want there? I had a chat with your wife. My wife? You don't go to my house, policeman no more, you understand that? You don't bother, Louise. You want something, you got a ticket to sell. You got something that gives you worry, you come to me. Louise, don't get bothered by police. She gets bothered, Hathaway, anytime the department feels the need. Yeah, you think so, huh? You get bothered too, mister. Go ahead, call your lawyer. Say murder to him. Because that's what you and your wife are involved in, murder. Call your lawyer, Hathaway. Look now. The death of Frank Dunn, bartender. At the hands of person or persons unknown. Your hands. Your wife's hands. Both. I thought you were kidding. I'm not kidding. Louise is a kid. I got a young wife, Clover. Wild. Sometimes country kid come to the city. Wild. Not excusing. Her Understand? I like to watch it. She knew Frank Dunn. So she knew Frank Dunn. So I know Frank Dunn. A thousand people know Frank Dunn. She didn't kill him. Why should she kill him? What could he do for her? Give her a double martini? Couple of those go a long way. Look, Frank Dunn was a joke passed over the bar to Louise. Louise is married. So that settles that. All right. Who killed Frank Dunn? I'll tell you this. If he would have put a finger on Louise, I'd have killed him. One finger on Louise. I've told her that time and time again. She and Lily think. Who? Lily. They think it's smart. They got to have cocktails at five. They go in by themselves. Who's Lily? Lily? Lily Prokosh. A dopey dame who writes poetry. Wears glasses that goes like this. Lily Prokosh. Prokosh. Foreign? Yeah. Talks accent. Talk. Where do I find her? Lily. Sometimes I pick up Louise at Lily's place in the Village Hotel. Yeah, I know where it is. Good. Maybe you're on to something, Clover, huh? Come. Come, please. Fell asleep here on the couch. Had dreamed, Lily. It was painful. Opened my eyes and the knife was in me. Here, say. Open your eyes, Lily. It is still a dream. I can feel my body can move. Lie here. Operator. Get me in the house. Doctor, quick. Help me. Help me. Wait a minute. Operator. Never mind. Operator. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat. Written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. This combination is your open sesame to Sunday night musical delight CBS Guy Lombardo Time. Featuring the sweetest music this side of heaven and the Mario Lanza Show. Enjoy Guy Lombardo's music. Enjoy vocals old and new by Mario Lanza. Mario, singing sensation called both the new Caruso and the hottest singer in a decade may be heard Sunday nights on most of these same CBS stations. The nice thing about Broadway, the good thing, the reason why you run the rest of the way until you get there is that Broadway never lets you down. It's all things to everybody. For the gourmet, the foot long wiener with a seated roll. For the musically inclined, the rosette of loudspeakers over the slightly used record shop. For the art lover, the windy corner. And for those who just like to walk and be amazed there are people who will be amazed right back at you. Walk it or wait it out. The day's 24 hours long, kid Take that dream along It'll happen to you one way or another but where I was going there was no dream Only the Reality of a girl lying there frail against the decor of plump upholstery, the expensive drapes, the built in silences, the lifeless girl, the stabbed to death girl. And talk to a man about it. The practice talk over the telephone. Because a policeman speaks of death by formula. Apartment 612, huh? Yeah, I got it, Danny. The door to the suite was open when I got here. The girl's name is Lily Prokosh. Okay. One who called Frank Dunn. When I was in Frank's apartment. I'm pretty sure that Gino. Anyhow, coroner, lab boys, the works. I'll talk to you later, Gino. Lily? Lily, it's me. Oh, oh, I, I, I didn't. Come on in. Oh, that's all right. I can come back later. I'm from the police. Come on in. Come on, come on. Who are you? Police, my eye. What, what happened to your Lily? What are they doing? Are you somebody to her husband or brother? I, I live across the hall. It's the first time I've ever seen her this close. The first time I've ever knocked on her door. I had a little speech. I was gonna tell her what my name is. What do you know about her? Listen for her every day. Yesterday when she came in, I just. What time was that? 6:00pm did she go out again? No. I know because I spent all that time making up my mind to knock on the door, tell her I was a neighbor, what my name was. That's all you can tell me about her? Yes. Lily. Lily, listen to me. My name is Harry. Harry Lynn. Tartaglia. Tartaglia, huh? Oh. Oh, it's you, Danny. The way I was standing here in the corner, daydreaming. I am not surprised I did not hear you come in. Dreaming. Because of the talent I discovered only last night in our little six year old girl, Aida. Tell me about the talent. Oh, Danny. The way my little Aida plays the piano. Plays good, huh? Well, not only good, Danny, but she plays the piano underhand. What? And by ear. By ear. Gino. Yeah, Danny? Did you run down that stuff I asked for on the phone? Goes without saying, Danny. This is the only comment. It's not important. What did you get, Gino? Yeah. Well, Lilly Prokash, a writer of things that rhyme, gathered material nightly for her rhymes and the trade winds. At the bar stool facing the station of the also deceased bartender, Frank Dunn, in the daytime escorted said Frank Dunn to literary tease last night. Came home at 6, an hour after the established time of Frank Dunn's murder. Nothing else. Only that the knife handle was wiped clean. I kept after the boys, Danny, but that's all they could dig up. Yeah. Underhand. Yeah. Danny. Ah, you should see Little Aida. I'd like to. I really would. Be sure to invite me sometime, you know. I see the wicker chair's still open. Milled. Danny. Danny. Sit in it, kid. Two nights. I see you each time. To what is due. This sudden harvest of Danny Clover. Not that the trade wind ain't humored, but to what is due. You know a girl named Lily Prokosh? Names don't register with me, Danny. I'll ask for a reason. Is there a reason? The tall girl, blonde, harlequin glasses, spoke with a little bit of an accent. The one who wrote lousy sonnets on my napkins. She was a poet. The one who always comes in here with Mrs. Hathaway. That one, Danny. Well, what about it? You tell me. Lily Prokosh and Frank Dunn. Hey. Yeah? Yeah. What? The other day. What are you talking about? The other day. Yesterday. The day Frank met his Kismet. She was in here with Mrs. Hathaway about 5:30. He asked for Frank. I told her he wasn't to work yet. I started to tell her where Frank lived, but she said, never mind. She already knew. Left. Then what? Then what if she left? Left Mrs. Hathaway with a martini at Half Mast. The poet walked out to see Frank. Yeah. She bumped Frank, huh? A doll like her. What do you know? And then start all over again. Back to the room where I'd first seen Frank Dunn with his blood on the monogrammed sheets. Back to the room where this particular set of violence had begun to shape itself and touch once more the things that had belonged to a man who had been well loved. The gold money clip with his initials written in chipped emerald. The gold cigarette case. The gold keychain. The silk robe that hung in the scented closet. And on none of these things, the mark of an identity. The whisper of a killer's name. And all of it with the man in tweed at your elbow, commenting, snickering, fingering the imagined price tag. This little trinket must have cost one of them a good deal of her rainy day savings. Put it down. Dead. Don't touch. Is that it, Mr. Clover? Exactly that. There's an etiquette about these things. I've been wondering, Mr. Clover. My brow is furrowed with wonder, I noticed. Hardly touches me, though. Sorry. Tracy. I've been wondering why you asked me to partake with you of this. What shall I say? This chamber of horrors. Because you're a liar, Mr. Tracy. And I indulge myself on the proper occasion. What was the occasion? Of my doing it to you yesterday when you showed me Frank Dunn. Oh. Oh, that. You mean when I didn't reveal to you who had been visiting the bartender at his siesta before death? Now's a good time for revealing. Sorry, but it's slipped my mind. There's nothing the police can do about a mind like mine, is there, Mr. Clover? Correction, there is. Who was here, Tracy? Who was here? Else you'll beat me. You hardly make it worthwhile defending a dead woman's honor. Who? That foreign thing with the wind in her hair and the mist on her eyeglasses. Lily Prokosh. I've heard her announce herself that strange way on the house phone. She stayed long enough with the bartender to read him her newest poem, but they had an interruption. You can reveal that too. It'll cost me a dear little savings plan I had in mind. The interruption. Who was it? Lovely frolicsome thing. Never been here before. Knocked on the bartender's door, was waved away, it seems. Tapped on my office door, asked if I had a deck of cards, wanted to play away love's bitterness, sympathized, laid against her, won 40 cents. Would have won more, only. Only what? In the midst of a deal, I had a call from the bartender ordering me to whisk the Prokosh thing away by freight. Elev I did. When I got back, my card playing lady was gone. You won 40 cents from her. That ought to make a girl like that unforgettable. Ever seen Louise Hathaway, Mr. Clover? I have, in society columns. And that evening she played cards with me. She's precisely what you say, unforgettable. And walk the night streets and try to figure why did Louise Hathaway call on Frank Dunn and not being able to see him, content herself with playing cards with a hotel manager. Why had she gone to see Frank? She knew her friend Lily Prokosh. Was there. A lot of whys. And keep on walking east from Broadway to park and up to the 70s. And stop in front of the canopied apartment house, pause, smoke a cigarette, then go in, and on the second floor ring a bell. What do you want? Hello, Mr. Hathaway. I told you before, let's go inside. You can tell me all over again. Thanks. Who is it, Edward? That cop? Yeah, me. Oh, hi. See, Mr. Clover? I stayed as put as put can be. I'm glad you did. That'll make it easier. What Are you two talking about. Oh, we've got secrets, Edward. Yeah, about Frank Dunn. Oh, Danny, Edward knows all about that. Look, Louise and I were playing chess. Chess, huh? You know a lot of games, don't you, Louise? All the ones that have fun. Did you have fun losing 40 cents yesterday to that hotel manager? What's he talking about? What am I talking about, Ms. Hathaway? Louise, stop it. Darling, listen to me. Let me handle this. Take your hands off me, Edward. Louise, you knew Lily was with Frank Dunn. Why did you go there, Mrs. Hathaway? Why? That's right. Lily was my friend. I didn't want to see her get in any trouble. I told you to let me handle it. Stop it. Stop it. See? Like I told you, Mr. Clover, she's wild. Louise, you're in a little trouble. Now, let me. Take your hands off me. Can't you understand? Take your hands off me. Oh, I'm sorry. I lost my temper. I didn't mean to slap you. Hardware man, fat man, bald man, nothing man. Jump. Jump, Edward. Louise, don't make me lose my temper again. Why don't you jump for the man, Edward? You do everything else I want you to do. Tell the man what you did for me, Edward. Crazy. What are you talking about? About murder. About murder, Edward. You once told me something, Mr. Hathaway. You said you'd kill anybody who laid a finger on your wife. Yes, he told me, too. Over and over again. That's why you always followed me, Edward. That's why you followed me to Frank Dunn's apartment house that night. Shut up. Shut up. And Frank wouldn't even look at me. He sent me away, Edward, and you killed him. All because I spent an hour playing cards with a hotel manager. I was never with Frank, Edward. Never. But you killed him for me. Go ahead, Jump for the man. I followed you. I always follow you. I couldn't stand that. You're going to see that man take the hardware man away, Mr. Clover. You too. What for killing Lily? You couldn't have, Frank. Lily was luckier. So you killed Lily. Oh, no. Edward did that for me, too. Didn't you, Edward? Didn't you, Edward? No, I didn't. I followed you to Lily's. Her door was open, wasn't it? I saw Lily. After what you did to her. Well, you don't know what you're saying. Edward, listen to me. You love me, Edward. I'm going to have to sign a confession. Louise. What I just said about following you to Lily's, I don't have to admit that. That sign my name to it. I could deny I ever said it. I don't know whether I will or not. I'll have to think about it. I love you. Honestly. Truly, Edward. I love you. Jump, Louise. Jump. Jump. Broadway's quiet now. It's the four o' clock in the morning hour the hour without color. But in a while dawn will dip down and there'll be fury again and roar again and crowd the restless wandering the puppet dance the running after nothing at all. It's Broadway, the gaudiest, the most violent the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway, My beat. Broadway's My Beat. Stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. With Charles Calvert as Tartaglia and Jack Crucian as Mugavan. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. In tonight's story, Mary Jane Croft was heard as Louise, Herb Butterfield as Edward, Joe Granby as Milt Barker, Edgar Barrier as Neil Tracy and Gladys Holland as Lily Prokosh. Just once around the clock, aboard the Second Hand for Singing Again, an hour of comedy, music and cash for the CBS listener who can identify the phantom voice. Jan Murray is your host. Judy Lynn Allendale, the Riddlers and Ray Block supply the music. Stay tuned now for Sing It Again, which follows immediately over most of these same CBS stations. Bill Anders speaking. This is cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System. And Doug. Here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds of. With Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug Limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us? Cut the camera. They see us. Only pay for what you need@libertymutual.com Liberty. Liberty. Liberty. Liberty Savings Fairy, underwritten by Liberty Mutual Insurance Company affiliates, excludes Massachusetts. Welcome back. I love the Hawaiian bar. It's not something that you'd think think of when you think of New York City, but of course New York has Hawaiian restaurants because they have all types of restaurants and they did a good job of bringing it to life. And I love Danny's exit line, which is a clever nod to the closing narration of many films about Hawaii. Very well done. And again, this whole thing is a little different, but nonetheless feels very grounded within the world of Broadway's My Bait and highlights the sheer variety of businesses that operate around there. And we turn now to listener comments and feedback. And we start out on Spotify where mechanic 66 starts out with some sage advice for one Gino Tartaglia writing. Gino, you're not supposed to squeeze the buns. And also notes, I heard her Butterfield play at least two parts and of course we got to hear Herbutt Field is one of the killers today. And I hope that Gino Tartaglia mends his ways so we can once again hear more about the Zimmerman buns. And then on YouTube, Reinzer comments regarding the Eleanor Corbett murder case. These shows are captivating because they are so dark. Howard McNear plays such a great weirdo. He is great to listen to. Thank you Adam for all you do. Well, thank you so much and glad you're enjoying the series. And then I had speculated a few episodes back whether these detectives Artaglia was mentioning were real or not. And a listener comments on the Charles Crandall murder case. This might just be my interpretation, but I've always thought that in Universe, Mike Hammer AKA Mike Schreck and the British girl detective are fictional, but Tartaglia doesn't realize that and thinks they're real. Danny presumably knows they're fictional but can't bring himself to disillusion his friend. Yeah, I have mixed feelings. On one hand, I kinda like that bit of headcanon and hope it's true. On the other hand, it would be kind of scary to live in a world where you could be that far out of touch with reality and somehow get promoted to Sergeant of Police. But thanks so much. I appreciate the help with that. And we have a new comment over on the listener survey. Love the show and the host commentary. Well, thank you so much. Now it's time to thank our Patreon Supporter of the Day and I want to thank Helen, patreon Supporter since June 2015, currently supporting the podcast at the Chief of detectives level of $30 or more per month. Thanks so much for your support, Helen. And that will do it for today. If you're enjoying the podcast, please follow us using your favorite podcast software and be sure to rate and review the podcast wherever you download it from. We'll be back next Wednesday with another episode of Broadway's My Beat, but join us back here tomorrow for Dr. How about this business of Adele Pryor lending you money? She think quite a bit of you? Well, I did her a couple of favors once when I was working for her husband. She was still married to him. She was going out with a guy she liked on the side. She was out with this guy once and I saw him together. She asked me not to say anything so I didn't. Before she got a divorce, I used to cover up for her all the time. She never forgot it, I guess. How about when you saw her in her office tonight? Franchise. She seemed all right to you? Yeah, same as ever. I asked her if she could lend me a five and she did. I left. It was about a quarter after six, I guess. Anyone else in the office when you left? Yeah, there was a guy waiting in the little reception room there. Didn't know who he was. You remember what he looked like? Well, tall fella. About my size. My age. Joe, can I see you a minute? Yeah. Doherty and Brian have checked in and just got back from going over French's hotel room. They find anything? White shirt, a pair of brown shoes, pair of dark trousers. What about them? Blood stains on all of them. I hope you'll be with us then. In the meantime, send your comments to Box 13@Great Detectives.net follow us on Twitter radiodetectives. Check us out on Instagram. Instagram.com Great detectives from Boise, Idaho, this is your host, Adam Graham, signing off. Limu Emu and Doug. Here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat, helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug. Uh, Limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us. Cut the camera. They see us. Only pay for what you need@libertymutual.com Liberty Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings Ferry Unwritten by Liberty Mutual Insurance Company and affiliates Excludes Massachusetts. Time is precious and so are our pets. So time with our pets is extra precious. That's why we started Dutch. Dutch provides 24,7 access to licensed vets with unlimited virtual visits and follow ups for up to five pets. You can message a vet at any time and schedule a video visit the same day. Our vets can even prescribe medication for many ailments and shipping is always free. With Dutch. You'll get more time with your pets and year round peace of mind when it comes to their vet care. 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