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. In the mid-afternoon light of Maytime, Broadway shimmers and languor walks the street. The dream walk, rhythm to the pulse of the sleeping neon, to the sun-worn blues yawned out of loudspeakers, to the slow erratic dance of the litter of night, held close, thrown away by a gutter wind. And with the rest of Broadway you stand and watch, or follow the crowd, and lend your heart to the whispered cry that this day, this time, will not get away from you. But it does. It always does. The web of blood in the alley was already dust-heavy, its threads leading you to the manhunt huddled in a forgotten anguish against the flaking brick of an alley wall. His hands still clutched to the bullet wound as if he tried to claw out the pain and never made it. And the other man leaning over him being gentle and polite as he searched the dead man's pockets, then finding something and looking at it, then making the only observation left to him. It's a nice day, wasn't it, Danny? What did you find, Muggerman? Found him like that, all broken up about the bullet in his chest. Tried to tell me why it was there, but the word never got out. It was phoned in? Yeah, from the back room of a bar down the alley. A friendly chap wanted out for a breath of fresh air, saw this, ran back to the bar, made his phone call, bought drinks for the house. He's still celebrating if you want to talk to him. You talked to him? Yeah, friendly, Lush. Invited me to a cold beer. I didn't take it. He knew this man? Never had the pleasure, he told me. All the citizens of the alley never had the pleasure, I checked. Uh-huh. What's that in your hand? This? Oh, I almost forgot. It's a ticket for parking made out to a Charles Crandall. Over-parked in the loading zone. He can snap his fingers at it now, huh? This your witty day, Muggerman? I try, Danny. In days like this, I guess I don't make it. Anything else, sir? Not a thing, nothing. Except that expensive watch on his wrist. You have to listen awful close to even hear it ticking. Very expensive. It's running, but in this alley, you can't hear it ticking. No wallet, no identification, just the parking ticket. That's all. A wristwatch and a parking ticket. Not much for a grown man to leave behind him, is it, Danny? Then the alley, formerly known only to the chalk riders, the garbage collectors, and the shortcut homers. Then the alley became cluttered with new faces, mostly scrubbed. The girl in the picture hat and the Pekingese, a maid in the baby carriage, the dad and his son. Mostly these, interspersed with enough men from the police department so that I could leave. I did. Back to headquarters briefly with the traffic ticket. Enter the traffic department, long enough to check an automobile license number against a name and be given an address. Charles Crandall, rooming house on West 17th Street. And go there. Wait a few seconds until the woman at the front door had finished shaking out her mop. Good morning. Guess I should say good afternoon. House cleaning is sure lose track of the time. I'm looking for Charles Crandall. I'm from the police. Oh my. Charlie hasn't done anything, has he? Is he home? I wish you'd answer me. I'm his landlady and I never had a better roomer than Charlie. What's Charlie done? We found a man with a traffic ticket in his pocket. Charlie told me parked illegally. Is he home? Why, no. He hasn't been home for the last couple of days. I see. Yeah. Charlie's engaged, you know. No, I didn't. He brought his young lady over just last week, introduced us. Rosemary. Such a nice girl. Helped me with the dishes. Rosemary what? Oh, I don't remember quite. Nielsen or something. Rosemary, such a nice name for a girl going to be married. Can you tell me why Charlie hasn't been home? Of course. Sometimes he stays at Rosemary's house. Her parents love him like he was their own, like I feel about him. Was Charlie about five feet eleven, blonde hair, heavily built? But not fetch, understand. Charlie takes exercise every morning. When the chandelier shakes in the parlor, I know Charlie's taking his exercises. And the chandelier shakes every morning before he goes to work. But do you know where Charlie works? Surely Charlie's a longshoreman. That's another reason why he's not fat. Works the peerless steamship line on loads. That's an idea. If you want to talk to Charlie, why don't you go there? You're a policeman. They'll let you talk to him. The foreman said your name was Charlie Crandall. Yeah, that's right. I'm from the police. Oh, oh, the parking ticket, huh? I'm not surprised. I am. I didn't think you were alive, Charlie. Come on. If I'm not being too previous, where are you taking me, Mr. Clover? You'll see. I had parking tickets before. Nobody ever took me by the arm and let me down a cold, damp hallway. That's all? Nobody ever? Never. So help me. I've been missing out on things. Your wife has passed me by, huh? In here, Charles. Don't tell me. Let me guess. It's a morgue. Uh-huh. I keep looking at such things in the papers whenever you boys put on the safety campaign. Look, the paper says. Drive carefully or this on the slab is you. Because I got a lousy parking ticket, you're making me live it. This is the new up-to-date method. There's a chilling air here. How come I'm sweating? Take a good look, Charles. I'm looking. I make you a promise. I will drive carefully, observing all the traffic signals, and I will never overpark in a loading zone again. Promise. Cross my heart. Gypsy blood oath, if you want. You know him? Cover him up. Put him back. I've had him. I said something, Charles. You know him? Who knows people who ask for this kind of thing? A shelf for a grave. I'm grateful to you, though, Mr. Clover. You've introduced me to a new experience. You've given me a memory I never had before. We found this parking ticket on him, Charles. Yours. Huh? Look at it. Yours. Why do things like this happen to a man like you? It's very complicated. I'll listen. You sure you got the time? You got nothing better to do? Down here, there's all the time you'll ever need. Fortunate me. That's right, Charles. Count your blessings. What I'm building up to, if you give me the chance. Last night was a blessing. Maybe this, what you're showing me, was a part of it. I wouldn't know. When the mood hits you, the part you know, I'll wait. Well, last night was my night in Solly's Bar on Third Avenue. Oh? This man was found in an alley near Solly's Bar. I wouldn't know about that. All I know is Solly's a man with an open ear. I cried into it. You'd had a tough day. That too. I'm a long shoreman, remember? That too. So you cried a glass full of tears into Solly's ear. Yeah, about the engagement ring I needed for my girl. Or my betrothed, I call her. About the engagement ring I couldn't afford to buy for, because a man like me don't lay away for things like that. Must have been very dramatic. Ah, yeah, I put it on. Maybe more than it needed. Because a girl walks over to me, runs her fingers across the beard on my cheek, tells me she has heard the whole thing, the big trouble I'm in with my betrothed. She stopped your weeping. You could say that. She told me there was a jewelry store, Scully's Jewelry Store, down the street, to come with her, to pick out any ring in the window I wanted. Like a fairy tale. Yeah, you could say that. So I went with her, pointed to the fattest ring in the window with the fattest numbers, a star sapphire. She says, meet me again tomorrow. I'll get it for your half price. Good girl to meet in a bar. You'll never dream how good. After that, she takes me back to Solly's, lets me exchange my other sorrows with her. You had more? Only one more I could call to mind at the time. The parking ticket. She says, give it to me. I know a way to fix it. You believed her. I hear it's been done. And that's the last you saw of the ticket. The gypsy blood oath, if you still want it. Who is the girl? Helen, address Solly's Bar and third. Go to her, Mr. Clover. A girl like that can ease many sorrows. Just ask for Helen. They'll know. Don't thumb through any travel folders, huh, Charles? Why should I? I found a home here. Cover my palm, Mr. Clover. It's chilly in here. Solly's Bar on third avenue, the boy had said. Go there and ask about a girl named Helen because Charlie had given her a traffic ticket and the ticket had turned up on one John Doe, dead on arrival. Third Avenue is a tenement five stories high and miles long. At nine o'clock, the night is going full blast. The open air card games for juveniles only, the doorstep twisting places. And every seven minutes, the elevator screams. Somewhere between Kom Choo's Hong Kong hand laundry, special attention paid to pleated dress shirts and the blue star delicatessen, cream soda and hot corn beef, two bits, somewhere between there was Solly's Bar. I walked in. What's yours, friend? Beer, the naked draft. One dime. Thanks. Your name's Solly. You own this place? Yeah, so? You work here every night? Yeah, why? Skip any nights this week? Hey, what's with you, Buster? You spent the dime, drink your beer, listen to the music. I'm looking for Helen. Who? Helen, tall, blonde, you know. Look, Buster. You're here every night, aren't you? You ought to know Helen. I want to show you something, friend. See this? A ball bat. I bought it from a kid who swiped it from the Yanks dugout. I sawed it off. You want to hear how it goes? That's the way it goes when I slap it on a bar. You want to hear how it sounds? Otherwise, you want to... Cop, huh? Why didn't you show me the badge before? What about Helen? I get it. Don't be a cop. You figure I'd tell you about Helen, huh? What about her? I told her to stay out of here. What do you want me to do, hit her over the head with a bat? The other night she was in here talking to a longshoreman named Charlie Crandall. You know anything about that? Who's in trouble? She or this Charlie? Charlie Crandall was talking to you about an engagement ring. You remember that? Who remembers for what reason my ear gets bent? Helen, I know. You want her, huh? Where do I find her? You wait on that bar stool, she'll be in whispering at you for a drink. Well, you can't wait. Try the second floor back at the corner house at the end of the block, this side of the street. Can't wait, huh? Walk down to the corner house, which the sign at the head of the steps had allowed no visitors after 10 o'clock. And the other sign at the end of the corridor. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Wash out the bathtub. And the door, with her swinging open briefly, then closing, opening. Helen? Helen? Get no answer. The tenement draft swings the door open and presents a room, a torn apart room. Nothing was in its place. Nothing was undisturbed except the girl on the bed. The strangled girl with the tumbled blonde hair. The dead girl. The murdered girl. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Anyone interested in an auto ride from Hollywood all the way to New York? A fella in Hollywood named Jack Benny has to make the trip. He's got a fine Maxwell automobile and he's looking for someone who loves sharing the scenery and the expenses. For full details and fascinating highlights, be listening to CBS's Jack Benny Show this Sunday evening. And remember, Eve Arden as our Miss Brooks will be on hand too. Springtime on Broadway is like springtime on a thousand other main drags, except for one thing. Mother nature doesn't function on Broadway. Nothing grows. It gets constructed. But nobody bothers. There's the salary to be earned, baseball scores to be considered, and the weather to be discussed. However, as in all times and places, there are the crackpots. Some even delirious enough to give you odds that Broadway's lively get blown off the face of the earth. You waste a shrug on that one and flip the newspaper over another page and scan the quarter column on the right-hand side. Girl, murdered in Tenement House. Police seek link with death of unidentified man, which was straight reporting. I know because I was the policeman directly concerned. Next morning, open the notebook and scan the personal brand of shorthand. See now an item. Charlie Crandall had been taken by the hand and led to the window of Scully's jewelry shop to pick out an engagement ring. Go there, look in the same window, and walk into the store. Good morning. Oh, good morning. I'm Danny Clover from the police. Yes? I'd like to see the manager. Well, well, I guess I am until Mr. Scully comes in. What did you want to see him about? I'm his wife and... Take a look at this picture, Mrs. Scully. Have you ever seen this man before? I might have, but I don't know him personally, if that's what you mean. Maybe I've seen him someplace. Who is he? The man we've got in the morgue. Now, take a look at this picture. Young girl, also in the morgue. How terrible. Do you know her? She could be anybody. Somebody's sister or sweetheart. In the morgue. In a police morgue. What happens to people, Mr. Clover? My, my. Look at him. Hello, honey. Like it? Blue coat and brown pants. Well, it's different, George. I took my brown coat to the cleaners on the way to work. It got soiled. Oh, sorry, dear. This gentleman... Oh, this is Mr. Clover, George, from the police. And this is my husband, Mr. Scully. Oh, something I can do for you, Mr. Clover? Just take a look at a couple of pictures. Here, this one. Never saw him. Take a look at this. No, her either. Dangerous characters, huh? They're dead. They're in a police morgue. No, I don't know either of them, Mr. Clover. George. I'm talking to the gentleman, Louise. But I'll forget if I don't tell you now. My wife is forgetful, Mr. Clover. That's a good kind of wife to have. What is it, dear? Mrs. Reed was in here for her diamond brooch. I couldn't find it. Why not? Why couldn't you find it? Mrs. Reed was furious. You promised her you'd have the catch repaired by this morning. Well, it's ready. Why couldn't you find it, Louise? I looked. It's not there on the repair rack. I looked all right, but I couldn't find it. Call up Mrs. Reed and tell her your husband's here, Louise. Tell her to stop in for her brooch. Well, do it, Louise. You're not missing anything from this shop, are you, Mr. Scully? Missing what? I don't know. I don't understand what you're talking about. A robbery, anything like that? You're joking. If I had a robbery, I'd know I'd been robbed, wouldn't I? You want anything else, Mr. Clover? No? Then you'll pardon me, won't you? Sure you will. I'll be damned if I don't get anything. Gino. What's the matter, Tertaglia? You got a big sadness? From your office window, Danny, you can see the harbor in the Yon. It makes you unhappy, huh? Lady Jane Pugh, the ne'er-do-well girl detector from London town. She has pushed off from our fair shores, Danny. The paper said she grew lonesome to eat an English kipper in the fog. That happens to a girl sometimes. You're fighting me, Danny. Don't do that at a time like this. There's only one thing to do with a grief like yours, Gino. Tell me, Danny. Don't tease me with it. Tell me. Bury it in work. You mean... I tried, Danny. It don't help. There it is on your desk. Hmm? These are the papers. Hmm? You buried your grief in this envelope? A part of it. The rest, what's in the envelope, is news from the FBI concerning the fingerprints of the man now in the morgue whom you found bullet-holed in the alley. They matched them? To a minor hoodlum, named Johnny Malloy. Used to work our fair city. Crossed a few sweaty palms with silver, address unknown. I informed them his new address. Finally caught up with him, as you know. Yeah. Danny Clover speaking. This is Rosemary Nelson, Mr. Clover. Can you come to our office? Can you come to our house right away, please? Who did you say? Rosemary Nelson. I'm Charles Crandall's fiance. He told you about me, he says. It's about the ring he gave me. The engagement ring. I don't want it. Nor him anymore. Please come. What's your address, Rosemary? The brownstone with the marble stoop. 1827 West 58th. You'll be here? Right away. You going out, Danny? You mind? If you want to leave me alone with a memory, it's all right. Go ahead, Danny. I'll be all right. I've been alone before. Bye, Danny. Don't pay any attention to her, Mr. Clover. She's upset. A lover's quarrel upsets a girl like Rosemary. I know. We've had them before. And that's all it is, Rosemary? Just a quarrel that needs a policeman to referee it? Look at this ring, Mr. Clover. Beautiful. Star Sapphire. Take it. I don't want it. Give it back to whoever Charlie got it from. You know where I got it from. Who I got it from. How I got it. Don't make a tear-stained production out of it. I'm not crying, Charlie. Not anymore. That's one thing I used to like about you. You never gave me a reason to cry. You got a Star Sapphire, didn't you? Is that what eats you? Because you never had a thing like that before? Because the star shoots pains through your head? Leave me alone. Just you leave me alone, you hear? Rose. Rose, honey. Where'd you get the ring, Charles? Honey. Rose, baby. Listen to me. I told you I'd tell the police. I dropped in a Scully's jewelry store a little while ago and noticed a little square, clean place in the window, like where a ring box had been. This the ring, Charles? Yeah, yeah. You need an engagement ring, lonely man. Take it. Looks like I don't need it anymore. Ellen Griffith get it for you like she said she would. Half price and everything. Half price and everything. You could go ask her. Except I read in the paper she's dead. So you'll have to take my word for it, huh? You were with her. You were with her. And she sold you the ring. And now she's dead and you want me to wear it. Get him out of here. Get him out. Yeah. Why don't you do that, Mr. Clover? It ain't the same between Rose and me anymore. So why don't you do like the pretty girl asks? Let's go, Charles. I'm sorry, Rose Marie. Leave me alone. Just you leave me alone, you hear? What are you waiting for, copper? What is it? Come on. What are you going to hold me on? Suspicion of murder? Until they come up with a new one. Danny? Danny! Over here in the squad car. Woman down at headquarters, Danny, turning the air blue with complaints about Scully the jeweler. Tell us about it on the way down, huh, Muggerman? It'll pass the time for all of us. You, me, and our boy, Charlie. Well, finally. This is Danny Clover, Miss Christie. What am I supposed to do? Put two fingers in my mouth and whistle? You made a complaint about a jeweler named Scully. What's the complaint? Don't talk to me like that. What is this, Muggerman? I'll handle it for you, Danny. Now, look, Miss Christie, you told me something about a watch and about Scully's jewelry store. I want you to tell Mr. Clover. What's the matter? You got amnesia, sonny? Please tell him. It's about my layaway plan. Whirl that around for a while. Danny, this is a mad dream. We lost that one, Muggerman. Try another move. Miss Christie. I told you it was my layaway plan, my layaway plan. You mean you bought something for Mr. Scully on a layaway plan? I don't, don't you, boy? What did you lay away, Miss Christie? A watch for a man's wrist. I'm carting. I figured a bullet would make him happy. You still haven't told us what the complaint is. It's Scully. For 11 months now, I've been paying down on the watch, see? Come in with the last payment in my hot little fist, no watch. Scully tries to sell me another one. That watch have a gold face, gold wristband. And if you flip open its backside, there's 17 jewels visible to the, if you'll pardon the expression, naked eye. Hey, Danny, that sounds like the watch we found on that guy in the alley. Yeah. Entertainer, Muggerman. You heard what the man said, sonny. Entertainer. Then a squad car, and on the way to Scully's jewelry shop, the gathering together of the after images of two people's dying. Item, Miss Christie. The fact that her wristwatch had disappeared from Scully's store had turned up on a murdered man's wrist. Item, Helen. The fact that she had gotten a star sapphire from Scully at a big saving. The fact that she'd been murdered. Conclusion, Mr. Scully had been robbed, or he'd been giving away merchandise. Anyway, it was a conclusion that needed Mr. Scully. What can I, oh, hello, Mr. Clover. Is your wife here, Scully? In the back, Sortenstock. Get her. Well, if it's important, Mr. Clover, but she's busy. Get her. Mr. Clover. Hello, right. Louise? Louise, come here for a minute. I haven't finished the stock, George. Leave it and come here. Mr. Clover wants you. Who? Mr. Clover. You remember, the policeman. Well, tell him to come back, George. If you stop me in the middle of the stock, I'll forget what I've done. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Scully. It won't take long. Well, what do you want? I told you I couldn't recognize those people. I know. Your husband couldn't either. What's the matter? Don't you believe us? Yeah, don't you believe us? Tell me something, Mrs. Scully. Did your husband ever locate Mrs. Reed's diamond brooch, the one that needed the catch fixed? Well, why ask her, ask me? Yeah, yeah, I found it. You mean I found it, George. You remember we laughed when I found it in the repair case after looking there a dozen times. I just couldn't understand it. Because when you looked a dozen times, it wasn't there. Tell her where it was, Scully. What are you trying to do, Mr. Clover? Tell her where the brooch was, Scully, and the wristwatch, and the star sapphire ring. Oh, my. He's crazy, Louie. I don't know what he's trying to do. Oh, my. George. Well, George, I'm not going to lie for you. You might as well know that. After all, you've done something wrong. I know I'm a plain woman, George, and I'm in my 40s, and I make myself forget a lot of things. But not this, George. She doesn't know what she's talking about. You lied to me, George Scully. You said you took your coat to the cleaners, and you never did. When I was in there today, the cleaning man asked me about you, said you hadn't been in for such a long time. I told you a little white lie, Louise. I lost my coat. You must have lost the keys to the store, too. Is that why we've been using mine? Is that how that hoodlum, Johnny Malloy, looted your shop, Scully? You walked in and took your coat when you had it off. Well, when it's hot, a man takes off his coat. But your keys were in the pockets. Why didn't you report it to the police? Because you were with that woman again, weren't you, George? That's why you couldn't report it. But I was only drinking with her in a bar. I don't care what you were doing. After all, you promised me. Louise, I... I lied for you about the pictures. But I'm not gonna lie anymore. Not about her, even if she is dead. Louise! What do you want me to say? I don't know. Tell her you killed Johnny Malloy, only he didn't have the loot. He'd already given it to Helen. So you had to strangle her to get it. And you got it. I don't know what got into me, Louise. I didn't want you to know. It was such a beautiful night. I was walking along. I stopped to light my pipe. It was in front of the bar and I heard a tap on the window. It was Helen. She waved me in and I... I just didn't want you to know. But you promised you wouldn't. And now look at you. George Scully. You're a murderer. I think we better go, Scully. Louise, you gotta help me. We'll get a lawyer. He'll tell you what to say. I won't lie, George. I just am not going to lie anymore. In May, the night sighs down on Broadway like a rosy promise. Someone smiles and takes your hand, whispers. For an instant, the lights are brighter, the noise louder, and your scream mixes well with the scream 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 Calvert as Tartaglia and Jack Crouchen as Muggavin. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. In tonight's story, Lou Merrill was heard as George Scully, Jeanette Nolan as Louise Scully, and Adam Williams as Charles Crandall. Others in the cast were Peggy Weber and Joy Terry. Say there, Sing It Again's current Phantom voice is really a Phantom. For the past two Saturdays, she's mystified everyone Jan Murray's called in his coast-to-coast Sing It Again phone. Tonight, Jan may call you. If you can name the Phantom, she's worth $3,000 in cold hard cash. So stay tuned now for Sing It Again, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. Joe Walter speaking. This is CBS, where you laugh at Jack Benny every Sunday night, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
