← 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 Mary Deming Murder Case (EP4762)
00:37:30
Today's Mystery: A woman is murdered and the only clue Danny has as to why she was killed i her high school yearbook. Original Radio Broadcast Date: August 14, 1950 Originated in Hollywood Stars: Larry Thor as Lieutenant Danny Clover, Charles...
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- [00:00]
Advertiser
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- [01:23]
Adam Graham
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're enjoying the podcast, to follow us using your favorite podcast software. And today's program is brought to you in part by the financial support of our listeners. And I want to go ahead and thank those who supported us. You can support the program using the Zelle app, and I want to thank Vivian, Chris and Julia for supporting the program that way. In addition, you can become one of our ongoing Patreon supporters for as little as $2 per month by going to patreon.greatdetectives.net well now, from August 14, 1950, here now is the Mary Deming murder case.
- [02:25]
Advertiser
Arthur Godfrey, who usually comes around with his talent scouts at this time on Monday, is just about finished his summer holiday. Godfrey will be back with us two weeks from tonight on August 28th. Broadway's My Beat from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world, Broadway's My Beat. With Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Broadway it's the shrieking edge of a numb universe that lies in the shadows and licks its wounds and its wasteland, A tinseled wasteland that wears the motley, wears the scarlet of neon, the harsh gold of a trumpet scream, the kaleidoscope of color a tear makes when it's held up to the light. There's the color of the desolate wind that sighs through Broadway, nameless and cold, the wind that drifts, touches everything, seeps in through windows and under doors, Lends its quality to whatever room in which it dies. Like the room where I was standing Mrs. Branch's rooming house. Cretonne, drapes, dusty beaded lamp, dusty washbasin, rust stained. The bed pulled down from the wall. The crumpled sheets and the dead woman and Mrs. Branch not believing a bit of it. I know it. I know it. I know it. I know it. What, Mrs. Branch? Someone's gonna come along and pinch me and I'm gonna wake up and this whole thing will be a dream, won't it, Mr. Clover? No. Who is this girl? I'm gonna tell you because it doesn't matter, because it's a dream. Her name's Mary Demming. How long has she lived here? Four years? Five. One morning she rang my doorbell. She had a black suitcase in her hand. I liked her. She liked me. Yes. She stayed. Always paid her rent. Now. Oh, I don't believe it. Now she's dead, Mrs. Branch. She's been stabbed to death. You've got to convince yourself of that and help. Who were her friends? Oh, she was very popular. Whenever the doorbell rang or the phone was for Mary. Often wondered why she didn't marry with so many friends. Tell me how you found her. Well, I brought Mary her coffee this morning. She didn't smile when she saw me. Something's wrong, I told myself. I shook her and then I saw the knife. And then I said to myself, someone's gonna come along and pinch me in this whole thing. But you called the police. Anyhow, I pride myself on presence of mind in any circumstances. Did you have any visitors last night? I wouldn't know. I wasn't home. Oh, that book. What about it? Mary loved it so. It was her dearest possession. Her yearbook from high school, you know, she loved to look at it before she went to sleep. I suppose that's why it's on the bed beside her. Here, let me show you what you see. You see Mary's picture in a yearbook. Mary Deming, voted by the class of 1937, is the girl most likely to succeed. Mr. Clover. Isn't that nice? Fingers of sunlight reached through the windows, hung with the torn soot stained cretonne. Reached out for the woman lying there, Touched her face, her throat, her shoulders. For an instant, youth flowed over the dead woman's body. The youth, her dead hand held in the shape of a high school yearbook. For an instant, a girl lay there in sleep, sun warm in the power that is a girl's. Then the instant was gone. A little while they came, the servicemen of death. The technical men, the photographers, the coroner. Mugaban. I gave Mugaban the notes I'd made the yearbook told him what I needed. Said a little while after it was done, the man in the white jackets brought up the wicker basket and a joke to fit the occasion. At headquarters, a man stood at my desk, a bald man eating a big red apple. Enjoying was Sergeant Gino Totaglian. Danny, I was saving this for you for my lunch. But it took you such a long time. I couldn't save it no longer. I know. Gino did. My governor. Yeah, yeah. He gave me a message, Danny. And I got all the dope right here in my pocket. Well, let's take it out and look at it, shall we? Huh?
- [07:18]
Adam Graham
Oh.
- [07:18]
Advertiser
Oh, sure, sure. I can tell you what's in the dope without you looking if you want. Okay, I won't. The girl lately deceased, Mary Deming, she had a police record. Oh, not that serious the way you said. Oh, Danny. A record that is not unordinary among certain type people. Reckless driving, driving while under the influence, bashing a cop in the eye because he stopped her while she was doing 90 on a Sunday afternoon. Disturbances of the peace on occasion. Shoplifting, Little ordinary things like that. Anything else? Not from me, Denny. You McEvin? Yeah. Denny, I checked and cross checked the high school yearbook like you told me. Mary Deming against everybody else in the book. Something, maybe. Anyway, I came up with the names of four students that the Deming girls seemed to be most intimate with during her high school years. Who are they? I made up a list. Danny. Here. I traced their addresses, their occupations through Fourth is going to take more time. Thanks, Muggleman. Wasn't too easy, Danny. Cross checking all that stuff. The sororities, San Souci, French Language Club, the Lettermen, the Acapella Choir, the proms, the national thespunes. All that high school stuff Wasn't easy. Tell Gino about it, Muggerman. He'll save you a big red apple. So it began. A woman dead in a boarding house and her last identification with life. A high school yearbook. A woman anonymous. Except for that somewhere, if Muggerman's checking was correct, four people had intruded upon her life. Tempered it, perhaps. Shaped her. Dying only perhaps. A policeman has to make sure. Call on number one. George Ferris. Football player who made all state back in 1937. Now department store floor walker. Wade through the ladies wear department, through the bookstore down the escalator and seek out the man who quarterbacked the bargain basement. Impose a name for him. Mary Deming, you said? That's right. What about her? Mary Deming Mr. Ferraris, will you okay this charge too? Uh huh. There we are. Thank you, Mr. Ferris. Now. Now then, about Mary Deming. She's dead. Well, now, well, well. I guess we're all getting old, Mr. Clover. Just last week I met old Poliakov. You know, Ferris to Poliakov, What a combination we were. I flipped him, he caught him. Faris to Polyakov. Poliakov said we were all getting old. Yeah. Rackety racks. And the locomotive for us. So Mary's dead. We found her this morning with a knife in her back. You know, she had ain't that way. Why? Human nature. It's in the books, Mr. Clover. Mary Deming was wild for her age. Wild? What do you mean? Boys. Lots of them. That included you? I was a star quarterback. She wore my sweater for a week. Then one Monday afternoon, I saw her in the drugstore with a left tackle. Mary Deming was a wild kid. I liked her for the week. I knew her. Have you seen her since high school? Yeah. About a year ago when I was in Ladies Lingerie, a woman with a shopping bag was stealing one of our 498 items. Mary Deming, did you ever arrested? Well, well, yes, I did. After all, I work for this store. Sure. That's the last time I saw her. Mary Deming. Well, well. The next on the list Mugavan had compiled from the yearbook was a woman. Lillian Hess. Address, New Rochelle. Occupation, unmarried. Her picture came to mind. A girl with a plain face, with gentle eyes, a sweet smile. Her dark hair cut in a page boy. The woman who opened the door was the same girl. The same plain face, the same gentle eyes, the same sweet smile, the same cut of hair. Time had only touched the corners of her mouth, had drawn the lips back and down. Had brushed her cheeks delicately with shadow, hollowed them slightly. That was all. Even her voice was a girl's voice. What is it? What do you want? I'm Danny Clover of the police. I want to talk to you about Mary Deming. Oh, of course you do. I'm practically the only girlfriend Mary has. Please, come in. Let's go into the den. I call it a den. I suppose a man would call it that. You said you were practically Mary's only girlfriend. I'm proud of it. I like Mary. I like her a lot. No matter what the other girls say about her. There's more to Mary than they. Well, they just don't understand her, that's all. Ms. Hess, Mary Deming is. What I want to say is that she's. You want to tell me that Mary is dead. I know that, Mr. Clover. I saw the afternoon paper. Here we are. This is my den. I was just playing some music and reading. I love that song, don't you, Mr. Clover? I play it over and over. Please sit down next to me on the couch. Thank you. Mary Deming was murdered. They were jealous of her. That's why they killed her. Who? Oh, almost all the girls. Some of the boys, too. All jealous of Mary for their own reasons. You know, Mr. Clover, Mary once came to my room and cried because she knew how they felt about her. She never showed it, but it hurt her. That's why she went on those reckless, dangerous drives at night. She told me so. Still, she was voted most likely to succeed. They voted her that out of meanness. They didn't mean it the way it sounds. They didn't say out loud what she was going to succeed at. When was the last time you saw her, Ms. Hess? Mary. It was in the afternoon just before. She congratulated me. She kissed me and said she wanted all the happiness in the world for me. In the afternoon before. What did she do, that, Ms. Hess? Before the graduation dance in June. It's always in June, Mr. Clover. You see, Paul and I were going to announce our engagement formally at the dance. But Paul died that evening. He died? Oh, yes. I went to his house just before dinner to ask him. Well, to ask him did he really love me. He. He ran down the stairs to answer me and fell. And died just like that. Without any reason. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. It's all here in my diary, Mr. Clover. The last time I saw Paul. The last time I saw Mary. My last entry, June 12, 1937. It tells all about Paul and me and. I'm sorry, Mr. Clover. Will you stay to tea? Please. I did. Tea poured by delicate hands into delicate china. Smiles and chit chat and small, fragilely iced cakes. Yesterday's time recaptured and held briefly until time changed and it was suddenly evening. The fingers on my arm when she showed me to the door. Number three on the list. Ona Webster, cheerleader, class of 37. The yearbook had said. Now, Ona March, married five years before to a Keith March, address 8020 Andrews Avenue in the Bronx. You got here. You finally got here. What? You are the police, aren't you? I called. I'm looking for Mrs. Ona March. She's in there, in the bedroom. I told you she would be. Come on. Look, I just came home. Went out for a walk. They've been Prowling. Maybe I shouldn't. Wait a minute. I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you? Only's husband. I told the policeman on the phone about my wife. What's the matter with her? She's in there on the bed. She's been stabbed to death. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Martin Fine and David Friedkin and and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. An old friend of yours comes back tomorrow night, Luigi Basco. And once more, you can live that wonderful life with Luigi. So join us on CBS this Tuesday night for Life with Luigi. On most of the same CBS stations, there's a special hour on Broadway, the hour between twilight and darkness. Dinner time. It's the time of the swarming into the earth because home is at the end of a long tunnel and walk three blocks. Or it's the time of the fast look at the Trans Lux. The run out into the streets and say. Cooled off, huh? Coffee, hot dogs, cream soda and the nickel tip. And Broadway tries to gulp its dinner the way it's seen ordinary people gulp their dinner. Wipes up the gravy with a second pair. And compares boyfriends, girlfriends and recurring dreams. But my dinner time wasn't like that. Because it didn't happen. Because it was being preempted by something else. By a woman with a dime store knife pushed deep into her. By a man with the fright of death, goading him, taunting him into screaming at me, do something. Don't just stand there. Take her away, whatever it is. That's why I called you police, because I thought you knew how. Please. Please do something. Please. Take it easy, Mr. Marchese. We'll do what needs to be done. I'm sorry. Just that I. That's my. My wife lying there. I understand, Mr. March. Here, sit down over here. Come on. Thank you. Would you like some water? Anything? No. No, thank you. Do they always look like that? Huh? When people die, do they always look like that? Who'd want your wife dead, Mr. March? What a strange way to say it. But then I suppose whoever killed her wanted her dead or he wouldn't have done that to owner. Who? I don't know. I told you. I thought a prowler, thief maybe. But nothing's been disturbed, has it? I don't maybe you, Mr. March. No, no. But you understand, Mr. March, that you'll be treated as a suspect until we. Yes, of course. Of course I understand. Good. Now, there's some questions I want to ask you. Did your wife know a Woman named Mary Deming? Once she did. There were classmates in high school. And you? I knew Mary. She was one of my students. Oh. I'm a high school teacher. Science on. And I recall that Mary Deming was in my class when we read about her murder. You think Ona and Mary Deming. You think the reason you fell in love with your wife when she was in High School, Mr. March? I used to watch her at the football games. She was a cheerleader. She was young, exciting. You know how a girl can be. You fell in love with her then? I suppose so. But I didn't know it until five years ago. We met again by chance in a theater. After a while, we got married. Your wife and Mary Deming, were they friendly? Did they go around together, have the same boyfriends, things like that? I honestly don't know. Olin. And I almost forgot we'd known each other in high school. We hardly ever talked about it. Mr. March, how well did you know Mary Demme? What? How well did I know her? Huh? Only as a student. Never saw her or talked to her after she left high school? No. And Mrs. March, did she ever see or talk to Mary Demi? Well, if she did, she never told me. What's that? I'll see. It's the police. You called for Mr. March. I'll let him in. Hi, Danny. Oh, Gino, Come in. I brought you out to eat, Danny. A box lunch for supper. Thanks. Put it down. I'll eat it later. Okay. I already peaked in mine. Danny. I got an apple. How about you? Probably an apple. Box lunches never change. Oh, I don't know. Once I found a dollar bill in mine. Gino, I. Once I found an easterling sterling silver spoon with which to eat my potato salad. And I guess I'm born lucky. Gino, please. I'm tired. I've had a tough day. Two people have been killed and I'm no closer now to the answer than I was. I'm sorry. Do you have anything to tell me, Gino, About Mary Deming or Ona March? No, Danny. I'm sorry. Danny. Yeah, what is it? Mugavin. Found what we were looking for. What was that fourth name on the list? The one I couldn't trace down? Milliken Polk. Hey, that Milliken Polk. I was looking through that yearbook. That guy was the genius of the class. Got through high school in two years. The type I admire most highly. Where is he? Margoman, in the penitentiary Sing Sing. A three time loser for selling oil wells to visiting movie stars. And poor Texans. Don't stare at me, Danny. So his education turned him into a con man. So kill me. How come you had such a hard time finding him? Polk had eight aliases. I tracked down one. He'd suddenly dissolve into another man. Thank you, gentlemen. Hey, Danny, it's too late to drive up the Sing Sing tonight. You haven't eaten your supper. Don't worry about it, Mugavan. Oh, yeah, Danny, call Sing Sing. Tell him I'll be up in the morning. And tell him to throw a guard around the cell for Millicent Pulk so he won't dissolve into another man. Stand right where you are, sir. Huh? Nothing personal, sir. It's just that the slightest movement, the slightest distress upsets the delicately balanced mental processes of my student here. Doesn't it, Jerome? Yeah, it does do that, Professor. Just what you said it does. Shall we show the policeman what we've learned today, Jerome? You are a policeman, aren't you, sir? I am, Milliken. Oh, goody. Yeah, let's show the police on what we learned today, huh, Professor? Go right ahead, Jerome. Today we have learned that energy is equal to mass times the speed of light squared. That's excellent, Jerome. Excellent. Isn't it, sir? Excellent. And now will you tell me about the Pythagorean theory? Please, Professor. Even the Slough said I was excellent. Later, Jerome. First we must find out what the Slough wants with us. What is it you want with us, sir? Only you, Milliken. Thank you, sir. You may take a recess, Jerome.
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Adam Graham
But the Pythagorean.
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Advertiser
Take a recess, Jerome. And now, sir, we are, in effect alone. What can I do for you? You went to high school with Mary Deming. My congratulations, sir. However did you track me down to this? My private lair? I thought I'd successfully wiped out that puerile phase of my life. Not quite, Professor. Now that you've found me, I suppose you want all I can give you on Mary Deming. And, let me see, on a march, neona whips. Am I right, sir? How did you. I keep up with things. Newspapers, magazines. I'm the institution's librarian. I assumed it was only a matter of time before one of you would appear. Asking me what you're asking me. You assumed right. So I don't suppose you would arrange for this favor. A little time off, Say a furlough, so to speak. Uh, I thought not, sir. About Mary. Most delicious girl. Provocative, stimulating. Quite an experience to a youth who had the intelligence to appreciate her qualities as I did. You knew her well. Let's put it this way, sir. When I was in high school, I'd put my brain against any football letter on the campus. Mary was quite interested in me till I tired of her, threw her to the athletes. What about Ono Webster? A boar. Always turning cartwheels, screaming through a megaphone. Ah, Mary. Mary. You really liked Mary, huh, professor? There were so many things about Mary too. Like? Like the way she could wriggle out of trouble. All these years in trouble, out of trouble. Like putting on and taking off a nightgown. Always somebody to take care of. Mary. You have any theories, Millikan, as to who might want the girls dead? I haven't wasted my brains on it, sir. For the past five years, I've been occupied with Jerome here. Now, professor, now you're gonna tell me about the Pythagorean theory. No, Jerome. I'm sorry, sir. I'm calling my class to order. Goodbye, sir. And the things Millik and polka told me had their own place with the fragments I'd gathered up about two women. Ona March cheerleader, Mary Deming, most likely to succeed. Classmates of the year, 1937. Ona, the respectable wife of a respectable man who lived in a respectable house. Mary, a woman whose youth fled in a hurry because Mary was in a hurry too much of one. Back at headquarters, I went over her police record again. Reckless driving, 1937. License revoked. Drunk driving, 1939. Fined $100. One night spent in jail, then released. Fine paid. Drunk and disorderly, 1941. Fined $50 in 30 days. Sentence suspended, fine paid. Went like that. Fine paid, fine paid. Then a felony. A year ago, shoplifting. But a lenient judge changed it to read petty theft. Fine, $500 in probation. Fine paid. The fine was always paid. Go back again and start all over. In 1939, the money for the fine was furnished by Joe Sage, bail bondsman. And in 1940, by Joe Sage. All of them? Every one of them. Maybe Joe Sage had a fragment to hand. Me too. Yo. What is it? Oh, hello, Danny. I didn't recognize you. The light in here. Maybe it's because you haven't been in here so long. I need some help, Joe. For you, the house. Thanks. About a client of yours? You? Except about clients. Ah, Danny. You know, in this bail bonding profession, we ain't required to give information about clients. Like a doctor, like a lawyer. Danny. Look, you're talking to me, Joe. You know as well as I we can subpoena your books. Sure you could, with a good reason. Try murder. Which of my clients do you wish to ask me about Danny Mary Deming like the back of my hand. I know that. Well, good. Yeah, tell me all about it. Sure. Here is a dame who used to get herself into trouble. Peck after peck. Drunk driving, disturbing, heisting, underwear, little things. But you could count on it. And her fines got paid every time. I'm just trying to find out how Mary could afford to pay you back. You'll know I went. Her fines, huh? Uh huh. Because I had a standing order. About 10 years ago, a man came to me and he said, this girl Mary Deming, ever gets into trouble, help her. This man said he would personally guarantee I would be paid back. What man? Professor. High school teacher. He wrote after the word business on my client's card. Named Keith March. Named Keith March. Why do you ask me questions when you know the answers? Oh, Mr. Clover, please come in. Thanks, I will. I was expecting you sooner. I came back to check something with you. Yes. You said you hardly knew of Mary Deming. You only knew her as a student. Would you like to add to that, Mr. Mudge? No. Why should I? You were in love with her, weren't you? You're being ridiculous. Wasn't the owner you watched in school, it was Mary. Because you were in love with her. What are you talking about? She was a child. Your wife's age. How old are you now, Mr. Much? 39, 13 years ago? You were 26. Just starting out as a teacher. A man 26 can fall in love with a 17 year old girl. There's nothing unusual in that. Every time Mary got in trouble with the police, you got her off, got her fines paid. We've records that you helped Mary. Why should you do that? Mary? Mary. Mary's the kind of a girl who never looks twice at a man like me. You'd have to take my word for that. I helped her. Why? Because the times I helped paid money to help her. She would thank me, let me do other things for her. There's this, Mr. Clover. What? I did love Mary. Then why do you accuse me of killing her? You didn't, did you? No. I told you I loved her. Sometimes I hated myself for it, but I loved her. But you know who killed her, don't you? So do you. Your wife. She hated Mary. Hated her for what she could do to me. I never kept it a secret from Ona. That's why Ona killed her. That's why you killed Ona. From my point of view, that was the only thing to do. Ona had killed the thing I loved After Mary was dead, nothing had any value. Not even taking another life. You understand that, don't you? Let's go. It's not going to be that easy. Keep open that desk. I'm going to kill you, Mr. Clover. You're. You're a fool, Mr. Clover. You. You did just. Just what I wanted. Wanted you to do. I wanted to die. That's all I wanted. You fell into my trap. I didn't have the nerve to do away with myself. So I used you. Sergeant D' Artaglia speaking. Danny. Gino. Get an ambulance up to 8020 Andrew street in the Bronx. Roger Wilco. Anything serious? Just a shoulder wound. Nothing serious. Who? Danny? Not you. Not me. Gino. The man who lived to go on trial for murder. It's the gathering place of all the sleepless nights, this Broadway and all the unwept tears. The place to come to erase what's happened. Start all over, make a memory. The street is lettered with odds and ends. Fit them together in any distance you want. Only nothing slips into place. 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. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. Included in tonight's cast were Jay Novello. Hi Averback, Peggy Weber, Sammy Hill, Lou Merrill and Jack Crucian. There's always plenty of fun on hand when you hear Columbia's Monday night program Two Many Cooks, the hilarious adventures of a father, mother and their 10 children. Stay tuned now for Too Many Cooks, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. Bob Stevenson speaking. This is cbs, where you live life with Luigi. On Tuesday night, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
- [32:05]
Adam Graham
Welcome back. I love the concept of the story of Danny having the yearbook as the only clue to who this woman was, how she lived and how she died. I thought Danny staying for the T of that woman who'd been shattered and stuck in the past was a touching moment that showed his humanity. I did think that one remark by the football player that they were getting old in regards to Mary's passing was a bit odd. As if that should be expected. The class of 37 would have been 13 years previously, so that was 30 or 31 year olds. However, they also would have been close to the prime age for military service in World War II. And doubtless some of that class went to serve in the war. And some may have died or if not, Then, then others that people from that class knew in work or college and that might color perception as well of what is old, I suppose. All right, well, listener comments and feedback. And we start with comments we got from our Zell supporters. Vivian writes, thank you for bringing us this podcast. Chris writes, I'm grateful for all the work you've done to keep us perb, genre and medium alive for us in the 21st century. Best wishes for continued success and enjoyment of both radio and mystery and detective stories. And then Julia says, well, love the content. Well, thanks so much. And then we go over to YouTube and regarding the Harry Brett murder case, Terry writes, another very enjoyable Broadway's My Beat. Thank you much for sharing. And then we turn to our listener survey where Mark from Wheeling, Illinois writes, I listen most every night to the daily presentation. When I don't like what is offered, I will go to the Big List and find something that I do. I would recommend slipping in some more westerns that have been known to have a detective theme. On another note, maybe a month ago there was an episode of Broadway's My Beat where a suspect wouldn't give his name. He gave his initials as ioof. These initials refer to the Independent Order of Fellows. The IOOF was and still is the largest fraternal organization that you probably never heard of. They have a website and a podcast. Thank you for taking time to read my comment. Well, thank you so much and I appreciate the information. And the Big List is not something that I've mentioned recently, but a big list.greatdetectives.net is where I began to list all of the detective programs that I've done over the years. And so if you want to find another series or like, did he ever do this series? Is he going to do this series? Then you just go over to big list.greatdetives.net and you can find it. As I do look at it, I do need to update that and hopefully by the time this particular podcast episode goes out, I will have done so. Of course we do have more modern options. We've got our Apple podcast channel that's got all of those series in them and we've got podcast podcast feeds on each of the different services. And of course we also have YouTube playlists. But if you just want to skip all that and go to an old school website that will point you to detective programs that you can listen to, then Big List is there. And it's got most of the programs we've done up to the early parts of this season. But I will try to get that updated. Hopefully that will be up to date as we are talking about it. But thanks so much. Appreciate the comment, Mark. And now it's time to thank our Patreon support of the day. And I want to go ahead and thank Tom, patreon Supporter since December 2019, currently supporting the podcast at the shamus level of $4 or more per month. Thanks so much for your support, Tom. And that will do it for today. If you're enjoying the podcast, please follow us using your favorite PODC podcast software. And if you're enjoying the podcast on YouTube, be sure to like the video, mark the notification bell and subscribe to the channel. All those great things that help the YouTube channel to grow. We will be back next Wednesday with another episode of Broadway's My Beat. But join us back here tomorrow for Dragnet Wear.
- [37:01]
Advertiser
Victimized. Same thing, Joe, just like all the rest of the yeah. The crime lab find anything? Been here and gone. We found a few particles of cloth, probably from the guy's gloves, some metal shavings for spectrographical analysis. Same as on all the other jobs. How'd they gain entry? Same way around front. Looks like a tire on Pride. The door open. How about the burger alarm? No problem. There's a ladder. Climb up and take a look. Yeah. See it? Yeah, I see it. Cut the key leads again, huh? Nothing's different, Joe. Just exactly the same all around. No, it really cares it, doesn't it? Yeah. 252 men on stakeout last night and they know just which market to hit. One that isn't covered when you figure Wilson's got over 300 stores, we can't cover them all. I think we might have some of the luck. We're sure overdue. Nobody could be this lucky this long. Now they're out to break.
- [38:02]
Adam Graham
I hope you'll be with us then. In the meantime, send your comments to Box13GreatDetectives.net Follow us on Twitter at radiodetectives and check us out on Instagram. Instagram.com greatdetectives from Boise, Idaho, this is your host, Adam Graham, signing off.