← 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 Ted Ebberly Murder Case (EP4978)
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Today's Mystery:A former prizefighter is suspected of killing a drunk salesman. Original Radio Broadcast Date: December 29, 1951 Originating from Hollywood Starring: Larry Thor as Lieutenant Danny Clover; Charles Calvert as Sergeant Gino Tartaglia;...
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What's up, y'?
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All?
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Welcome to 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 want to encourage you. If you're 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. Support.greatdetectives.net I want to thank Gene for supporting the podcast. That way you can also become one of our ongoing Patreon supporters for as little as $2 per month. Just go to patreon.greatdetactives.net but now, from December 29, 1951, here is the Ted Eberly murder case.
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Yes. You Ross Lock. That's right. You police? You got a reason to come around this time of night? My wife and I were just going to sleep. You were in a place earlier at night. A Bar on 139th off 7th. Lots of bars on that street. There's an alley behind this one where a man was beaten to death. Nobody at all, honey. You just go back to sleep. Said a man was beaten to death. A man. Who invited you out into an alley? A shoe salesman named Ted Eberly. Oh, yeah. Yeah, honey. Janie, I gotta Go out for a while, honey. Don't you wait up for me, you hear? All right, let's go, huh? Quietly. We're waking everybody in the house. Sit over there, Ross. This is Detective Mugavin. Hi, Ross. Now we all know each other. That's right. We're gonna get along too, aren't we, Ross? Sure. Sure. Anything you say, Tommy. You're a fighter, Ross. Welter. Good one. Mugavan here is quite a fight fan. I just mentioned your name to him. He knew all about. Sure. Every time he hit the Garden, that was me in the aisle seat, third row. He had class. Real class. Danny. Yeah? How many times have I told you about this boy? How many times a week I ask myself why a boy like Ross quits, resigns from the field. A champ with crowbars in his fist. Why? Ask yourself. Why not ask me? All right, Ross. I'm asking. Fighting, that's not the way. Not for me. The other boys, I know all the reasons why they fight. All the reasons. But me. What's for you, Ross? I make models. Models, Kids. Airplanes, ships and bottles. Things like that. From blueprints, inventions, Buildings, machines, all to scale. Gives them a chance to see and touch what they were dreaming about on the drafting board. Gives me a chance to use my hands. Real fine work. I like that. Sounds interesting. I like it. Sure you do. You killed a man tonight, Ross. I didn't kill him. Well, maybe you didn't mean to at first. Maybe you forgot. A boy with fists like yours, deadly weapons, we call it. A fighter can kill a man easy with hands like yours. I told you. No, you haven't, Ross. You haven't told us a thing. Except you were in the bar. I was sitting there with my father, just talking. This guy came up, was slummer, drunk. Tried to pick a fight. They do that sometimes. Gives him kicks. Because they remember I was a fighter once. Sure, sure, they do that. But this one you took out in the alley. Beat him to death. Murdered him. Yeah, I took him out in the alley, Put my arm around him, Tried to talk to him, reason with him. I'm crazy. I do that sometimes. I walked him up the alley from the bar. He broke away, pulled a jackknife. Came after me. Passed out before he got in a deep, poor, miserable drunk. And after that? I didn't touch him. Just walked away from him. Turned around, walked away down the other end of the alley. Went home. Hello, boys. Guess what I got. Boy, we give up, Webster. What have you got? A writ. That ever loving rit Abs Corpus. Don't talk to them anymore, Ross, boy. You don't have to. I'm taking you away from all this. I don't know you. I know, boy, I know. And I'm a friend of a friend of yours. A fella you haven't been very nice to. Jack Cobal, your former manager. But he's sure nice to you, Cobble, is he? Hired old Billy Webster, counselor. And you're going to get up and walk out of here just because I say so. Isn't he, boy? Yeah. And you too, Webster, leave with him. The next morning, look up a man named Jack Colbo. Come up with an address of a place. Ozzie's Gym on Amsterdam. Go there. A gym like a thousand others. Sweaty hot training quarters for latter day gladiators. Classed variously according to poundage records. Expectations. Boxers, punchers, bums past. The middleweight who was being furious at a canvas bag, a lightweight being nimble with a jumping rope, brushed against a man in an overcoat who had taken a fighting stance and was sneering his broken face into a full length mirror. Stop a boy with a bucket and ask for a Jack Colbo and be told that's him over near the ring in the purple T shirt. The left can't blow it. What's the matter with you? Throw the left, huh? Oh, no, no. Your name Koval? Yeah. So toss it already. Don't stand there and wave it. Go ahead. Go ahead. Okay, kid, do something with a heavy bag. Three rounds. Okay. What? I'm from the police. I want to know what made you hire a lawyer for Ross Lock. You think because Christmas is over I'm strange because I'm friendly? I just asked you. I'm just telling you I'm friendly to Ross Lock. What's the matter with you? Don't you have friends? Look, Mr. Covo, I'm trying to find out all I can about Ross Locke. As I understand that you used to manage him. He was a comer. He left you. Didn't it bother you? Look like I'm stoned. Sure it bothered me. Fighter like him giving up all that dough. Sure, Dough for me too. Sure it bothers me. But you're still his friend. Sure I am. Especially what I saw last night. You were at that bar last night? You saw the fight? Where were you when I got there? Trying to find Ross. Just tell me what happened. Dame standing in the doorway with a bottle. I couldn't get near Ross and that Slummer went outside and around the block and up the alley. Slummer was banging On Ross, the names he was calling him. I'm going to court and testify. Self defense for Ross, like it was. Ross said he didn't put a hand on that man. Maybe that's the story Ross was planning, but that's not the way it happened. Me testifying, my lawyer's self defense plea. Possibly the dead man was holding a jackknife. So it'll be simple. I'm gonna take care of everything. I'm gonna. Pardon me. Yeah? Yeah, he's here. I'll take the message. Sure, I'll tell him it's for you. I just don't let people to use my phone. Germs on the mouthpiece. What was the message, Como? Message is about the Harlem river at the end of Lenox. Said that's where you were wanted in a hurry. You leaving? Goodbye. Over here, Danny. Who found her? Some kid looked in the river, there she was, yelled for. The police got her out just a little while ago. Why'd you call me? Muglin? Couldn't you handle it? I didn't think you'd want me to. What didn't they tell you over the phone? Come on, come on. Who is she? Take the blanket off. See General Bennett? Uh huh. The woman who screamed murder in the alley last night. You better look close, Danny. Murder? That's right. Carol Bennett, Danny. Strangled to death. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morgan, Martin Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. For each hour of each day of the year, someone dies. A man steps off the curb without looking in both directions. A woman jaywalks and a child turns a corner on his bicycle without looking first. Nearly 9,000 pedestrians were killed in these and other motor accidents during 1951. The fault many times is yours. The pedestrian. Careless walking is as dangerous as careless driving. Broadway makes happy holidays for the time of the year's dying. Those 12 long months with not enough laughter. They're going now and it's a time for dancing. So hurry up and exchange. Change the Christmas presents. Get out on the street, buy a noisemaker and create a stir. It's the thing to do. Join the mob, kid. Everybody's making the new dreams for the new year. Maybe even today. Maybe the golden girl will smile to you from the crowd and beckon. Once happened to a friend of yours. But in my office at police headquarters, no crowd, just me, the sergeant with papers in his hand. Danny. Yeah, what is it, Gino? I'm worried. What's the trouble? Next year is leap year and it Worries you? Go ahead, laugh. Make funny jokes. Make mockery of Daddy's cares and woes. I'm not making mockery of anything, Gino. What's the trouble? My eldest Youngster, Tina, she's 17. She told me last night that next year being leap year, she's going to pop the cork to Patrolman Reardon. She's going to offer her hand in marriage to him. I think that's very nice. Tina's a lovely girl. Reardon's a fine officer. Heckled. Go ahead. I stand here helpless before you're heckled. You're on their side, Gino, after all the thick and thin we've been through. Shoulder to shoulder. Did you get what I asked for? First? Let me finish. Shoulder to shoulder. Yeah, I did. Tell me about it. Huh? Carol Bennett is dead from strangle unknown, tossed into the Harlem river and found at 11:23am by. Tell me about Carol Bennett. What did you find? Minor misdemeanors which caused the plague of 30 day sentences by our magistrates and many unheeded lectures by Seine. A girl prone to petty thefts, etc. Where'd she live? A drifter, mostly outside of Harlem. Checked out her last address early this morning. Threw 20 bucks to the landlady and said, don't bother about the change. Who needs it? And I'll give you a piece of advice. I think she was strangled by that raw slack so that she could not testify against him. You want an all points bulletin, Danny? I'll let you know. I think I know where to find him. Back again to the tenement where the boy had first been picked up. And it's day now. No nighttime to veil the scarred doorways. No shadow to smother the sudden crying out that pierces the corridors. No night sound of trumpet to wash away the stillness that follows on it. Harlem tenement huddled close in on itself against December, trying to soak up the last sunlight of a dying year. And never making it walk through the silence that happened when your foot crossed its threshold, up the flight of stairs, down a hall whose walls are closer against you than they were the night before. Knock on the. Oh. I thought you were someone else. Mrs. Locke? That's right. What do you want, Ross? I'm from the police. You're the man that was here last night? Yes. You took Ross away. He hasn't come home. Why? You won't try to stop me if I take a look around? And Mrs. Lock? Why should I? Come on in. We want him, Mrs. Locke. Where is he? I don't Know you told me why you took him away. He beat up a man last night. Killed him. You lied. You stand there and you lie to my face. This morning a girl was found in the Harlem River. A girl who'd been strangled. A girl who saw Ross kill the man. And you're telling me me that my Ross did all that? He left headquarters late last night. Did he come home? He's a fugitive now, Mrs. Locke. I've heard all about them fugitives. I've seen pictures on streets back home. If you know where he is, it'd be better for. Come here, mister. I want to show you something. See that? That's a model. A model of a new little machine Ross was working on. Look how tiny those parts are, how delicate. That's the way Ross uses his hands. You're gonna stand there and tell me Ross uses his hands to kill? I don't want to talk to you anymore, mister. Get out. And leave her. And leave the scars gouged out by words and fingernails and pen knives and the exchange value of a dollar. Get out into what sunshine is left. And call Sergeant Tartaglia. Tell him to get out an all points bulletin on Ross Lock. And continue with your own checking. Then have Detective Mugaman drive you to the man who, as far as you knew, was the last one to have seen Ross. The lawyer who had brought a writ. Go to the office of Lawyer Webster. Glad you came, Danny. Glad you dropped in. You're glad? I'm glad, Webster. I want you to be in a happy frame of mind. I got some questions I want to ask you. Ask away. Shoot. Where'd you go when you left headquarters with Ross Lock? I took him home with me. Gave him a clean shirt, razor, a sauna blade and some hot water. I wanted him to look real nice. For what? For my client, Coldbone. He likes people to look real nice when they come calling. Then that's where you took him, huh? I didn't say that. Come on, Webster. You get cagey with me or a lawyer. Who's gonna need a lawyer? You're the one, Daddy. Good old you. You ready to go downtown? We'll use my car. Why don't you just listen sometime instead of sneering? I never said I took Rossna Cobo, that's all. Where'd he go? How do I know where he went? He walked out. He wouldn't go see Kobo. You know why? What do you think I do, Danny? Tap people's brains? I said, let's go see Colbo, kid. He pushed me against the wall, you know, playfully. So. I couldn't get up for five minutes. He pushed me and walked out. Personally, I don't like to question playful boys like Ross. And that's all you can tell me, huh? Kind of bright, Danny. After all, do I look like a boy who would? Danny. Yeah, what is it? Mugman just came over the car radio. What did they found? Ross lock. I think we better get. Over there, Danny. They can lock between the tenements. All right, you people, now get back. Let us through. Police. Let us through. Okay, Officer, we'll take it. Give me your flash. Look at him, Danny. His hands. His hands, they're. It was the first thing you saw in the quickening darkness. His hands. The hands that had shaped delicate things. Minute things. Crushed, broken. Twisted into something without form, without name. And stained now with Donald Scarlett of all furied violence. The boy's eyes, as he looked at you, considered your reaction. Anguish. And something else. Something that made you turn away. Ambulance, Danny. Take you, me and the patrolman to clear the crowd. You handle it. The left, kid. Left. Left. Left. Left from the shoulder with the body. Left. Tell your boy he can quit now. Cobo. I want to talk to you. All right. Take a shower, kid. See you in the morning. Bring you to the gym so late, Koba? I checked your house. They told me you were down here. Now, let me ask you the same question. What keeps you here so late? Keep teasing myself. That kid you just saw, his guts up. Everything but a left hand. As good as Ross Lock? I doubt it. Ross gets sock with both hands, no more. Yeah, I know. Got it over the radio with the rest of the bad news. Ever slap one of these light bags, Clover? Good for the nerves. I get all tensed up when I hear news like that. Cut it out, Clover. You kidding? I said cut it out. What's your mission here, Koba? Two murders, an assault. How bad is he? He'll be all you won't be able to build any more models. Yeah. Somebody hit him over the head from behind, then went to work on his hands. Ruined them. Imagine. Figure somebody doing that to a guy's hands. Yeah, I can figure somebody doing that. I'm sorry. I forgot you didn't like it. Now Ross couldn't fight even if he wanted to. Not for anybody. He saw his hands. You ought to know shame, too. Good boy like him. Can't make models, can't fight. Probably isn't any job he'd be able to do with his hands. I'll send him something from time to time. You know A girl named Carol Bennett. Sure, I know her. Dame with a bottle. A dame who saw Ross kill that man. The dame you fished out of the river. Who doesn't know her now, why she died. There's always a reason. She was blackmailing the killer of a Camden shoe salesman. The man who was found beaten to death last night in an alley. You're crazy. How could she blackmail Ross? He didn't have that kind of dough. You do so. But putting away for rainy days, that gives you a long nose. Carol was standing at the doorway of the alley. She saw what happened. Saw that Ross didn't touch that drunk. Saw Ross walk away the way Ross said he did. You believe what the boy told you? Yeah, I do. The way someone fixed his hands makes me believe it. Boy gets himself a couple of broken hands. That makes him stop being a murderer, huh? Let me tell you a little bit more what Carol saw. She saw you. She saw you finish the job on the drunk that Ross didn't get to do. Blackmail. Give a good deal of my time to that boy. Even hired him a lawyer. Now, why would I go do what you said? Did I suddenly go crazy? You left your rocket flu. But you were going to appear as an eyewitness to Ross's murder of that man. Told me so yourself. That way, when Ross was acquitted, he'd owe you something, fight for you again. Anybody ever call you a deep thinker, Danny? And when he wouldn't come to you, you found him. Wrecked him. Let's go. Downtown, Colbert. Don't be a fool, Colba. Put down that jackknife. It cuts. Clover. Like this. Your wife. Clover. Clover. Clover. No, don't drop it. Drop. On your feet. Let's go. In a little while, Broadway will knock itself to pieces. Funny fellas with funny hats will lean out of the hotel windows and pour water on the celebrants with the tin horns. There'll be laughter and crowd and swirl and the fine thing the words Happy New Year and Broadway means it with all its heart. 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, Clayton Post was heard as Colbo and Roy Glenn as Ross Locke. Featured in the cast were Herb Butterfield, Charlotte Lawrence, Jenny Lagon and Jester Hairston. Tomorrow Afternoon. Don't miss the third annual gathering of CBS Radio's top foreign correspondents. All making their year end reports on the state of the world. Ed Murrow is the host. Remember, it's tomorrow afternoon on on most of these same radio stations. It's hard hitting, it's factual, it's food for thought. It's years of crisis. Bill Anders speaking. And remember those lovable rascals Amos and Andy are here every Sunday on the CBS radio. Sam. And Doug. There's nowhere I wouldn't go to help someone customize and save on car insurance with Liberty. Even if it means sitting front row
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at a comedy show.
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Hey everyone, check out this guy and his bird. What is this your first date? Oh, no. We help people customize and save on car insurance with Liberty Mutual together. We're married. Me to a human, him to a bird. Yeah, the bird looks out of your league. Anyways, get a quote@libertymutual.com or with your local agent. Liberty. Liberty. Liberty. Liberty.
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Welcome back. I have to say that this whole plot of murdering the shoe salesman and hoping that Ross Locke gets framed for it so that you'll exonerate him and he'll feel like he owes you and so he'll fight again for you. That seems a bit elaborate for a improvised first time, assumably murder of a complete stranger on a night you've just been planning to go out to the bar. I definitely feel bad for Ross Locke at the end. That's just really sad. And so Broadway's My Beat had no problem ending the year on a bit of a downer. Although the New Year's message, which seemed like very similar to the one they did in 1950, what was a nice touch now Gino's concern about his daughter. There are probably a couple of things to understand. First of all, there was a tradition originally established in Ireland, but it spread throughout Europe and that was on leap day of leap year. So February 29, women could legally propose marriage to their sweetheart. This practice was brought to Scotland by Irish monks. Queen Margaret passed a law allowing it and then it kind of spread throughout Europe. So his daughter talking about taking advantage of that tradition to pop the question to this patrolman. Now, in the 21st century in most areas of the United States, this would create a lot of concern. But not so in the 1950s. In the 1950s, the average age of a woman getting married for the first time was 20.2 years. Our average today is between 28.4 to 28.6 years. So on average more women getting married closer to age 30 than to age 20. And so in a lot of that, Dany's reaction makes sense. She's a wonderful girl. He's a great officer. What's the problem now? Even if Tartaglia didn't have any objections to the match in terms of the merits of either of their character as an add, this would still be a very difficult proposition and something I don't think Gino would be ready for with so many feelings and anxiety surrounding it. So if you're looking for sympathy, going to the Bachelor is probably not going to do a whole lot of good for you. And of course, it's possible that his daughter might have been just saying something to get a rise out of her old dad. But would a teenage girl really say something just to shock her father? I'm not an expert, so I will demure now we turn to listener comments and feedback. And we start with an email from Nick at Berkeley, who writes in the Mary Smith murder case. Sergeant Tartagli asks Danny, why is this mourning different than all the other mournings? Morton Fine and David Friedkin both being Jewish? I suspect this is a little nod to the Passover Seder, which begins with a child asking, why is this night different than all other nights? Thanks, Nicholas. I don't know if I would think of it as like an intentional nod. It seems like it'd be a little odd to make a Passover reference in a story that went out on December 8, but I think it may have been one of those things where the culture that a writer is raised in, the religion, the films, the music, it comes out in their work. Not all of the references are intentional or thought of, but if something has influenced a writer, it does come out in their writing, which I think is a good explanation for the way that reference came in. And I appreciate your comment because that did strike me. I just didn't quite quite know what to make of it. But thanks so much for the email, Nicholas. Well, now it's time to thank our Patreon Supporter of the Day. Want to thank Alan patreon Supporter since February 2024, currently supporting the podcast at the Detective Sergeant level of $7.14 or more per month. Thanks so much for your support, Alan, 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 will be back next Wednesday with another episode of Broadway's My Bait, but join us back here tomorrow for Dragnet
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Wear you know any other fellows working for this Freiburg, Steve? Any other kids in school? No, just Bud and me. That's all I know. It wouldn't be so bad if it were just the books. That lousy Charlie. You had to go and promote the party routine. Get everybody mixed up in that. What do you mean? What's that all about? Charlie? He stays at this place out on Sepulveda. It's a motel. That's where we always contacted him. Yeah, after a couple of weeks, when we got to know him, he asked me and Bud out to this place. Said he was going to throw a party. Told us to bring our girlfriends along. Turned out we were the only ones at the party. Me and Bud and the girls and Charlie Freiberg. Party lasted pretty late. I should have been smart enough to figure it out. I wasn't. What do you mean, Steve? Figure out what? Why Charlie be throwing parties just for us. The first two times, there wasn't anything wrong. We just talked, danced with the girls, drank some beer. Charlie told us to have a good time. He threw a party every Friday night. Never broke up till after 3 o'. Clock. How old are your girlfriends? Yours and Bud's? 17. They're both 17. They've been around, though. No use kidding you. They weren't very smart, I can tell you that. None of us were, I guess. Next couple of parties, Charlie had whiskey there. Dumb girls drank right along with him. So did we. Freiberg served the whiskey, didn't he? Yeah, that's right. He loaded the drinks, kept handing the girls a lot of stuff about how he used to be a director in pictures. He had a lot of connections in Hollywood. The last party I was at, he said he was gonna get the girls screen test. A lot of malarkey like that.
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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 Great. Detectives from Boise, Idaho, this is your host, Adam Graham, signing off.
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