Transcript
Elizabeth Sinclair (0:00)
This is the story of the One As a custodial supervisor at a high school, he knows that during cold and flu season, germs spread fast. It's why he partners with Granger to stay fully stocked on the products and supplies he needs, from tissues to disinfectants to floor scrubbers, all so that he can help students, staff and teachers stay healthy and focused. Call 1-800-GRAINGER Click grainger.com or just stop by Grange Ranger for the ones who get it done.
Adam Graham (0:58)
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 Bait. But first, I do want to encourage you if you're enjoying the podcast, to please follow us using your favorite podcast software. 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 by sending a donation via the Zell app to box13@greatdetectives.net. you can also become one of our ongoing Patreon supporters for as little as $2 per month by going to patreon.greatdetectives.net well, now, from April 14, 1951, here is the Thomas Hart murder case.
Detective Danny Clover (2:06)
Broadway's My Beat. From Times Square to Columbus Circus, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world.
Narrator (2:20)
Broadway's My Beat. With Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover.
Detective Danny Clover (2:39)
The day without color is only six hours old and the restlessness begins to eat at Broadway. The waiting, the longing for the nighttime begins to gnaw like hunger, like thirst. Because Broadway's night is a banquet loaded with delicacies. The scarlet wine of neon, the forbidden fruit of a trumpet scream, the lukewarm stew offered on a tin plate through an alley doorway. But Broadway's day, that's the drab time, kid, the empty time. The time of leaning against sun warmed stone and waiting. And you wait with the rest of Broadway because it'll come. Something will come. And it does. You know that because Broadway nudges you with an elbow, winks, says, follow me, kid. The day has turned bright, and it's not far away where the day is bright. On 39th street, just off 7th Avenue in the Garment center, the crowd is already there ahead of you, toothpicking its last bite of lunch, digesting the spectacle of a man sprawled on the pavement. The dress rack he'd been pushing lay beneath him. There was a scissors in his back, his blood sketched A new pattern on the bright flowered silk prints. And the man heavy in the shoulders, pushing his face into the crowd so you can be close to it, so he can fill you in on it.
