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, where you walk through the October evening and hold close the things you want to save for memories. Then Broadway's as innocent and nostalgic as music drifting from a carousel. And you move on, you get hit in the face by a guy fishing for nickels under a grating. Whatever you were pursuing is gone now, lost. And Broadway trails off into the side streets. Walk them like I did. And try to close your eyes against the pattern of scars in the street of the tenements. The kids with the torn deck of cards under the lamppost. The dogs at the trash cans. The wide-eyed girl who lurched against me. Pardon me. That's all right. Pardon me. Pardon me. There's something wrong, Miss? No, no, it's all right. I'll find it all right. Find what? May I help you? You've seen it? You know where it is? You're not feeling well, Miss. Let me take you home. Home? That's right. Where do you live? I don't know. Then tell me your name. We'll find out. I don't know my name. I don't know who I am. I don't know. Tell me who I am. Now, just take it easy. That's better. Now, what were you looking for? A pocketbook. I remember I had it. I think I had it when I was rocking right over there. I fell down. Let's go see. How long ago did you miss your pocketbook? A little while, I think. I don't know. An hour? No, no, just a few minutes ago. I can't remember when. Here's where you fell? Yes. I remember because when it happened, I stretched out my arms so I wouldn't hit the trash can. Uh-huh. Is this it, Miss? Yes. Yes, that's it. I can remember that. Let's open it. Yes, yes. Here, a wallet. Here's a driver's license made out to Linda Arnold, 1912 West 54th Street. Five-four, blonde hair, green eyes. That fits. And this, in case of accident, notify Helen Carroll. Address the same. Helen Carroll. Aunt Helen. Yes, that's right. My name's Linda Arnold and Helen Carroll's my aunt. Uh-huh. There's something else in this purse, Miss Arnold. Recognize it? What? Why, that's a letter opener. Aunt Helen's. And there's blood on it. That's right, Miss Arnold. It's sticky with blood. Which is your apartment, Miss Arnold? That one. The one at the... There, you all right? Yes. I'm all right. It's the one at the end of the hall. Do I have your key? It's in my purse. Who... Muggerman. Hi, Danny, you got the call, huh? What call? I'm assigned, Danny. You mean you didn't get it? Then why are you here? Miss Arnold lives here. She's ill. I phoned her wandering in the streets, so I brought her home, gee. You said someone was dead. Who is it? Who's dead? Who, Muggerman? A woman named Carol, Mrs. Helen Carroll, in the kitchen. Here, take care of her, Muggerman. Make her lie down someplace. Okay, Danny. Bedroom over there. Here, Miss, let me help you. Danny, we've been waiting for you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Hey, we've been waiting for you. Hi. You got a cigarette, Danny? Oh, sure, Dr. Sinski. It's here. How? Stabbed in the chest, over and over. Pierce the lungs, the heart. The murderer made very sure, Danny, like it was what he'd lived for all his life. Who called it in, do you know? Detective Muggerman said some man from a coin box wouldn't give his name. Stabbed. The boys knoweth what? No weapons in evidence, Danny. They think it was a knife, a small knife like... A letter opener, maybe? The boys mentioned the possibility of a letter opener, yeah. There's a girl in the bedroom, Doctor. She'll need your help. Don't take me to her, Danny. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. I hated her. She was mean and rotten. She twisted everything and made it dirty and mean. I killed her. Hold it, Danny. You too, Muggerman. But gently. You'll be all right. It'll be all right. I want Ted. Bring Ted to me. Tell him. Tell Ted. Tell him I killed her. Tell him to come to me. Doctor Sinskey. A moment longer, Danny. In a moment, she'll be asleep. This girl murdered Danny? She's asleep. You're right, Doctor Sinskey. It only took a moment. It only took a moment and sleep touched Linda Arnold and the face gouged with hysteria smoothed down to a kind of release and innocence. Her lips formed a final word, Ted, once. Then she surrendered to sleep. I left. Routine, then. Questions. Questions prefaced with the word Ted. And answers from people who lived in the apartment house. Ted? I guess that's her boyfriend that always comes calling, mister, the good-looking boy in the uniform. Then a woman who opened the door for me before I knocked told me, Ted. You mean Ted Raymond, mister? Linda's boyfriend. Bought his uniform, mister. I guess that's because he drives a bus. More questions. And find out Ted Raymond drove a bus for cross-country tours. Go to the depot. Ted was off yesterday, but here's his address. But Ted wasn't home when I got there. I signed a man to call me when Ted got in. The next morning at 10, a phone call. Ted Raymond had been out all night. He just got in. I went there. You're the police. That's right. Danny Clover. Come on in. How'd you know I was this... You were the police. How did I know? One of your boys was outside this house when I came in. He was trying to look like a maple tree, like the one that's outside, real detective-y looking. Fat man with a cigar trying to look like a maple tree. I came home. He went across the street and made a call. Then you came. Have a chair. Thanks. You know why I'm here? Sure. That's why you were packing that bag over in the bed. Maybe I was doing the wrong thing. I don't know the etiquette about getting arrested. Do they furnish prisoners with small and necessary items like razor and toothbrush and combs and brushes, huh? Go ahead. Look, that's what I'm packing. Look and then arrest me. Arrest you for what? Come on, come on. I don't get cagey on me. Arrest me for murder. I killed Helen Carroll. Where were you all last night, Ted? Killing Helen Carroll and walking the streets atoning to myself for my crime. How'd you make out? Fine. She needed to be killed. All her money. Linda never got a cent of it. Kill her Aunt Helen, marry Linda, be rich. Logic. But now I'm caught. How'd you kill her? I stabbed her. With what? How do I know with what? I picked up something and stabbed her. Let's go, Mr. Clover. Take me down to headquarters, get me a secretary and I'll dictate my confession. It could have ended there with the boy's confession and arrest. It could have been easy. Easy to erase the words of a girl, the cries of a girl uttered in anguish and hysteria and the sickness of the lost. Easy to put out of mind the blood on a letter opener found in her purse, found behind a trash can. A girl wandering aimlessly in the twilight. That never happened. But you know it did. All of it. So you make a call to Dr. Sinski and he tells you the girl is in the police hospital. Yes, she can talk to you. She's been asking for you. And the girl sitting upright in the bed is a girl who was never lost, who never cried, except alone. I've waited for you to come back, Mr. Clover. You're better now. You feel all right? Look at me. What do you think? You look fine. I tried. I made them bring me lipstick and powder. This negligee is one I've been saving. You like it? You consider this an occasion, Miss Arnold? Isn't it? Can you remember what you told me when I brought you home the other night when we found your aunt? I remember it exactly, word for word. I said it killed her because I hated her. My aunt was mean, Mr. Clover, and rotten. That's why I killed her. This makes it an occasion, doesn't it? You lived with your aunt? Ever since I was in Pigtails. Ever since I was 12. I think it began the first night I stayed in her house. Yeah. That's right. That's when it began. What began? The loathing. Why? Because she made me cry. Because she put me in a dark room and let me cry all night. You'd done something wrong? Mm-hmm. I did wrong. My mother and father were dead. That's what I did wrong. It was no one to take me except a school friend of my mother's. I call her Aunt Helen. That's what I did wrong. And after that? Have you ever had to live on the charity of a bitter old woman, Mr. Clover? It could have been so nice. She was that rich. $100,000, Alfred said. $100,000, and we ate out of paper bags we'd dressed in... Alfred? Who's he? Alfred Carroll, my uncle. My aunt's husband. Poor thing. We didn't even know about him. Where is he? I don't know. But find him, Mr. Clover. He'll be so relieved that I've killed her so happy. I'd like to see his face. Find him for me, please. We will. We'll put out an all-points bulletin. Thank you. Now you'll put me in a cell, I suppose. I'm well enough for you to do that. Ted Raymond says he killed your aunt. You're not fooled, are you? He said that because he loves me. Turn your back, Mr. Clover. I'll get dressed so you can put me away. Danny? Hi-yo, Danny. Oh, come on in, Ted Daglier. What's on your mind? Poor things, Danny. Especially to extend to you formally the warm hand of welcome back from your vacation west of the Great Divide. Thanks, Gino. And to remark that the western winds have indeed done wonders to your features. The sunburned brow, the hearty handshake, and that don-worn shirt. You look like a veritable don-won. Thanks, Gino. And to tell you that I have prepared myself during your vacation for whatever problems perplex your brain. Oh. Tell me about it. I have been studying the exploits of Mike Schreck, the bald-headed miracle detective from Philadelphia. Detective Schreck is a man who has coined two interesting theories. Gino. First theory, find the woman. Second theory, the criminal always returns to the scene of his crime. Put them together. In other words, when a man walks past the scene of the crime of the girl, he's the killer. Hey, how did you know? Lieutenant Clover? That's right. Come in. Thank you. I understand you're looking for me. I am? My name is Alfred Carroll. Yes. Yes, we were looking for you, Mr. Carroll. Do you know why we want you? Yes. Yes, of course I do. It's about my wife's murder. It's this way. Two people have confessed to your wife's murder. What? That's right. Linda Arnold and Ted Raymond. I'm not a young man anymore, Lieutenant. Would you mind if I sat down? Please do. That's strange. Why should two people confess to my wife's murder? What? Why should they do that? I killed my wife. I killed Helen. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Keep your guard up. That's the key slogan of the 1950 National Guard Recruiting Drive, and it's a slogan as timely as today's headlines. More than ever before, America stands prepared, and the National Guard must recruit approximately 220,000 men as soon as possible. By joining the National Guard, young men will have the advantage of choosing their own unit and preparing themselves for promotion by being in a job for which they are best qualified. Investigate the National Guard now. Help America to keep up its guard. In the late October afternoon, Broadway stands on a corner, sips its coffee, snaps at a coney, and sums up the day. Some days are better than others. You know because the translux says it was. Our men in Korea are doing fine, it says. A horse out in far Hollywood paid 90 for two, it says, but you went on it, were you, kid? For the rich, they run, I kid. Get this item, look what it says. Three people confessed to murder of Helen Carroll. A field day for the police, I kid. Three tries, three scores. Coming up in the world, the police. And at headquarters, the husband sits quietly waiting for the police stenographer to catch up with him because his confession spills out of him like laughter, like it has to be shared with the world. Have you got that now, young man? All of it? Every word? He's got it, Mr. Carroll, go on. There's not much more. I wish there were. There are so many things. Where did you go after you killed your wife, Mr. Carroll? I went to do things she'd never let me do. Like what? Joyful things. Pleasurable things. Like what? I went to a bar and had a drink. A lot of drinks, with her money, with Helen's money. What else? There was a girl sitting all alone. She came up to me and asked me if I was having a good time. I said, indeed I was. Then I asked her if I could buy her a drink. And she smiled. What have you done with Linda? Where's Linda? How much money did your wife have? A hundred thousand dollars. Imagine. A hundred thousand dollars and she made us live like pigs, like beggars. She wouldn't even let me get a job so I could have money for myself. Where does she keep her money? It's all in the bank, in her name. It's all coming to me now. You know what I'm going to do with it after I die, after you... What are you going to do with it? I'm going to leave it all to Linda, to my child. I think of her as my child, but she isn't, you know. It's like a blessing to have Linda in our house. I want her to have all that money. Let me look at the transcript, Florio. Thanks. You'll see to it that Linda gets that money, won't you? You said here you stabbed your wife for the letter opener, Mr. Carroll. What did you do with it? Didn't I tell you that? I must have forgotten. The excitement. I walked around and all of a sudden I was on the dock. The garbage scow floated right past so I threw the weapon onto the garbage. I thought that was right for Helen. Is this the letter opener? Let me see. Yes, that's it. It belonged to Helen. That's what I killed her with. I found it in Linda's purse with blood on it. You lie. You're lying. I threw it away. I threw it on that barge. You're lying. Tartaglia, see that Mr. Carroll gets home alive. I killed her. I killed her. Take her home, Tartaglia. There it was. Three people confessed to a single murder. An elderly man, Alfred Carroll, said he killed his wife, but the details of the killing were too cloudy. A young woman, Linda Arnold, said she did it, killing Dun and a mental blackout. A young man, Ted Raymond, swore he was the killer. Take a premise, consider it. Make up your mind that one of the suspects was the murderer. But who? All had motive. As far as I could gather, all had opportunity. That was the joker. Routine again and questions again. The knocking on doors and tipping the hat and flashing the badge and intrude into lives of people who thought the word murder was reserved for headlines only. Person like Mrs. Westfall, for instance, landlady and purveyor of towels and clean sheets for Ted Raymond. You're talking about Ted Raymond, ain't you? That's right. Ted drives a bus. What are you looking at, Mrs. Westfall? Giddle Fiddlebird. Look at her walking down the street. She's got a little girl in her uppity ways. It's just October and she's got out the raccoon coat already. Look at her. Ted Raymond. He drives a bus. Bus driver. Jockey for a bus. Look at Giddle. Do you know whether he made any phone calls? On my phone, he always makes them. Broke a date with this girl. I heard him because I was peeping with my ear. Then what'd he do? I don't know. Maybe went to work where he works, at the bus depot. I bet it's not even real raccoon. Are you Mr. McClain? That's right. What can I do for you, sir? I'm for the police. Oh, fine. I drive that bus for cross-country tours. I'm supposed to take it out to Washington in five minutes. Think I'll make it? Sure. This will only take a minute. The man at the ticket window said you were a friend of Ted Raymond's. Was Ted in trouble? No, I'm just supposed to answer the questions. So you'll make the bus? I know Ted. Did you see him last night? All night. We sat up with Pinnacle all night from 5 p.m. to 4 a.m. That's funny, you know. What's funny? He called me very early this morning. He told me if anyone asked us, say I never saw him at all last night. But you're a policeman. Better catch your bus, Mr. McClain. Baltimore and Washington, leaving in four... Your name, Clover? That's right. Who are you? My name is Jones, and I've been looking for you. Why have you been doing that? Because I read in the paper you were assigned to the murder of Mrs. Carroll. There for this. There for what? Here. A hundred dollar bill. Take it. You see, I didn't spend a cent of it. Look, Mr. Jones, what's this all about? It's about that boy, Ted Raymond. He gave me the hundred dollars, and I'm giving it to you. Why are you doing that? Because I'm the superintendent of the apartment house in which Mrs. Carroll was slain. Ted Raymond gave me the hundred dollars early this morning. He said to tell anyone that asked that he was lurking around the apartment house at the time of the murder. I see. What took you all this time to come to the police? Yes. What? Yes, it did take me a long time. What happens with the hundred dollar bill now, Mr. Clover? Hello, Ted. Your marbles must have come loose, Mr. Clover. You leave that door open, I make a dash for it, escape, become a fugitive from justice, make a name for myself in the papers. But you won't do that, will you, Ted? A dreamer. You won't do it because you like it here. Yeah, that's right. I like it here. The walls are worn thin where guys have cried on them, where guys have beaten their heads against them. Oh yeah, I like it here, Mr. Clover. But you'll be careful, huh? Careful I don't hurt you when I try. It's open, Ted. All you have to do is walk out. So what is this? This I never even read about. You told me you killed Helen Carroll. Yeah. Who else should I tell? Bring him to me. I'll whisper it in their ears. She was killed in the evening at seven o'clock. The medical examiner says so. Bless him, I killed her in the evening at seven o'clock. You're lying, Ted. We know everything you did from five until four in the morning. You weren't even near Helen Carroll. How much did you lose at Pinnacle, Ted? You're crazy. The man you played cards with, McClane, is he crazy too, Ted? All of us and Jones, the man you paid $100 to establish at the scene of the crime at the current price for a confession of murder? Answer me, Ted. So I didn't kill anybody. So you don't have to put your hands on me. Who did you do it for? It's this way, Mr. Clover. Somebody gets killed, I feel guilty. So I confess and I don't feel guilty anymore. It was for Linda, wasn't it? I do it for her too. For Linda, huh, Ted? Leave her out of this. I want you to leave her out. Look, Mr. Clover, you're wrong. Linda couldn't kill. She's a sick, but she wouldn't kill. Not Linda. She's just sick, that's all. All she needs is... How sick? Ask her doctor, he'll tell you. Dr. Malcolm. Dr. Malcolm? Yes, Dr. Robert Malcolm in the Equitable Building. Go ask him how sick a girl like Linda can be. We won't need you anymore, Ted. The guard at the end of the tier will show you where to go. Goodbye, Ted. Well, the case of Linda Arnold is not a very exciting one, Mr. Clover. I don't want to write a magazine article, Dr. Malcolm. I'm just trying to clear up a murder. Well, I'll wage you the material you police come in contact with. Look, Doctor. Of course, of course, Linda Arnold. She came to me some years ago. How many years ago? Oh, about ten, I'd say. Charity patient. Later, I found out her aunt was quite wealthy, so I had to don her for my fee. Her aunt was the one who was murdered. Really? Now, that's interesting. Well, why? Oh, let me ask you a question, Mr. Clover. Did Linda kill her aunt? We're not sure. Maybe she did. Why do you ask? Well, there might be a pattern for murder there. Linda was an emotional girl, and when an emotional crisis presented itself, she would, well, black out. At times, rather than face reality, Linda would... I said it. Black out. Would you say you cured her, Doctor? I can only say she hasn't had need to see me for the last three years. If I say she was a perfectly healthy, normal girl. Anything else? No? Good day, Mr. Clover. It was 5 p.m. when I walked out of Dr. Malcolm's office. It was 10 minutes after 5 when I called the police headquarters and had them release Linda Arnold. Then back on Broadway for a hot pastrami sandwich. I almost had some cream soda, too, but Morris, the waiter, said, Ah, Danny, you look dyspeptic. I prescribed celery tonic. Then the theater crowds began to gather and Broadway became crowded, so I left it. Linda Arnold should be home by now. I went there to her apartment. But it wasn't Linda Arnold who opened the door for me. Oh, it's you, Mr. Clover. Please come in. Thanks. I will. Where's Linda? She was just admiring the clothes I bought for her. I opened a charge account for her because I'm going to get all that money, and I bought all those beautiful clothes for her. Silks. Linda looks so wonderful in silks. See? These and these and these. Where's Linda, Mr. Carroll? Ain't this? You should have seen Linda in this. We played that record you're listening to so Linda could walk around to it. Let's get rid of it, huh? Where's Linda, Mr. Carroll? Oh, she's in her room changing into something else. Call her. Because you want to take her back for murder? It won't work, you know. Linda has no mental responsibility for what she did, and besides that, if she were brought to trial, I'd say I did it. Linda, doesn't she look beautiful, Mr. Clover? How do you feel, Linda? I'm happy. What happened to the music? I turned it off. But I'm happy I need music to go with it. Look at these things. Look at them. Uncle Alfred bought them for me. Yes, I did. Didn't I, Linda? Ted signed his confession, Linda. What? Yes, the district attorney's going to arraign him tomorrow morning. That's wonderful. Ted did that? Isn't that wonderful, Linda? I asked you, isn't that wonderful? Ted's in jail. Now we have nothing to worry about, don't you see, Linda? Yes. Yes, Uncle Alfred. Linda, don't call me uncle. I'm not your uncle, Linda. Linda, Linda, you're so lovely, so lovely, lovely. You. Oh, Linda. You. Take your hands off me. You old man. You. Take your hands off me. How dare you? How dare you talk to me like that? Get out of here. Get out of my sight. How dare you? I killed for you. Planned this whole thing for you. The years I waited for you. You. You. Old man. Old, old man. Leave her alone. I'll show you. Take her, Mr. Clover. Take her. Me too. Alfred, you're crazy. Listen to me, Mr. Clover. I planned it all. It was I who told her to walk around, to be found in the days with a knife in her purse. I told her to be a good girl. I told her to be a good girl. I told her to be a good girl. I told her to be a good girl. I told her to be a good girl. I told her to be a good girl. They'll take them all away. All these, these things. All these beautiful things. All these beautiful things. In the time of autumn, twilight sighs down on Broadway. You walk toward it, someone smiles and takes your hand, whispers to close your eyes. Then bangs your head against a wall, and your scream mixes well with the shriek of the night. 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 Kelvert 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 Joyce McCluskey, Herb Butterfield, Peggy Webber, Luke Krugman, David Ellis, and Jack Kruschen. Jack Smith, Dinah Shore, Margaret Whiting, Bob Crosby, the Andrews Sisters, Lowell Thomas, Bula, Ed Murrow. Anywhere else, they'd make up an all-star list for a week. But at CBS The Star's address, you can hear them every evening, Monday through Friday. Dan Cumberley speaking. This is CBS, where yours truly, Johnny Dollar, brings adventure Saturday nights on the Columbia Broadcasting System.
