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. It happens faster on Broadway now, the coming of the night, and the time clock people go home to dinner in shadows. And far away from a time still yet to come, a wind drifts softly. It touches a cheek and quickens a step, finds a doorway and waits there, and its voice is a sigh of regret. The sounds of the river seem closer, and the neon blinks coldly. It's getting dark. And at police headquarters, those who are drifted in at six o'clock, those downstairs who are making complaints, those upstairs complained again. And the two in my office just because they've been sent there. And the moments of community social dialogue that's where it goes clover now tell me why you need that gun this morning again I told the pyramid giver tell me men if you got to defend herself shut up big be an agent for Polly Morgan and you get shut up Vic ever you'd better tell me Vic Polly Morgan her big singer of sad ballads a man's been calling her up threatening the way all of you men thank you but he said out loud enough yeah Polly the way we all do also she says the man's following it you saw him you saw him as well as I did yeah I saw him Polly did you think I saw a guy running on the street this morning Polly said that's the man he was and when I went back to my apartment later he called he told me that was him who touched me in the crowd he'd be there tonight he's going to be where well I'm singing the 13 club he said he'd be at the rimside tonight okay I'll be there if you want to come on come on come on and the room suddenly empty of her and of the man who was just to a farewell with a shrug half begun not finished and the autumn darkness of broder a variety of things the rustle of silk perfumed only with the night wind the scornful voice of a woman who walks close on the scalpel edge of a private terror the permit for death held close to her the grudging invitation to come prevent it if you can and fill in against the time of going with routine the gathering the sorting the parceling out of the day's violence then we glance at the wall clock the realization that you could be late and at the canopied entrance of the 13 club find dick knowing on the remains of the fingernail pause long enough to tell you Polly's aren't any I got a table length side off field to me and be ushered through the decor of their shoulders and neckties bright with the signature of campuses through tears swept into very dry martinis because Polly song was nostalgia with a cover card listen as Polly sang her body leaning against the wall of remembered pain watch as you make the register like it was an egg in a pane of draw down extra-money dollars a week and exit runs in the fourth figures she's good yeah I believe her I had to believe how she can single so much feeling some girls think from here and here to nowhere Holly thinks in the air in the heart difficult to figure it can happen though not be for mind you it pays me well this artificial heart she sets the beating in public places she said the man has been annoying her would be here at ringside you see him anywhere big how would I know him if I saw a man running away from something in the street that's an annoyance I get the urge myself and you know any of these men around us yeah that's one there with the two blondes and a male lieutenant that's Joey claim his last wife made a settlement on him a native village in Malarca someplace he needs probably like good hey it definitely looks like scientists huh scientists with things of dollar on here I go over to him and discuss what's new in nuclear fission and there's always something you probably interest him in terms of how soon she's gonna explode you think him with a cultured science the one alone against the wall yeah daddy I'm surprised that you do not be taken in by the rough and tumble three better hey that's probably I heard a scream before where is he sounds like I'm addressing on Danny I think may gonna take me to a bit yeah sure sure come on in here Danny Polly Polly take it easy it's gonna be all right for me where'd he go miss Morgan where'd he go miss Morgan had this window then he looks like through here we have seen him in the hall if he can't he must have got him what Polly was on what's the matter Danny well why do you look like that on me what's your budget for publicity Vic what Danny Danny what kind of talk is that at a time when pop it is to you mr. Kroger a man hides in here wait for me tears at me and you identify miss Morgan yeah yeah yeah get her cold pick we have a file at headquarters I want miss Morgan to come out and get my coat no no and no hi his mother just maybe his picture will be in this back I'm getting really bored mr. Kroger that's tough you finally saw the man up close didn't you this is the way we operate bring you down the headquarters let you look through pictures hope that you'll identify someone in the gallery the man all right all right all right I know why don't you go sit on the other side of the table look miss Morgan I've got a thing to tell you you're going to do it very badly I've heard it from poet your name on a police file it means a job I've got to do outside of that you don't mean a thing in the world look at the pictures oh hi Margaret Danny hello miss Morgan you better stand over there Margaret on the other side of the table what forget it what have you got all this from the description miss Morgan gave the artist and technical there's a sketch and shelter would you mind taking a look at this miss Morgan hmm this is him all right you're sure almost exactly no illustrator eyes a little further apart thanks miss Morgan I'll take you back to your apartment police procedure to stop at a desk on the way out issue orders for the printing and distribution of the likeness of a man who in poly Morgan had found the sum and reason of his loneliness a man who had touched her in a crowd waited for her in a darkened room clawed at her because she screamed at his despair and take the woman home in silence and from there go to the silent furnished room draw down the bed covers try for this night to sleep it away in the morning at headquarters be told there was someone waiting for you in your office find him there peeking at things furtively trying to rearrange them on your desk because you walked in on him in a bad time oh hi hi they said you'd be a while coming seems no one expected you so soon find what you're looking for I wasn't looking for anything it's a it's a sort of a habit fingering what not mine too that's right habit I am ashamed honest I said you wanted to see me why that man that man you please are looking for well I had no sooner finished packing up his picture in my office well it came to me like that it did oh yes what that fellow is a guest in my hotel I own a hotel King Paukey and he's a guest at my hotel who this man you want Lars Nielsen a salesman out of Black River Falls Wisconsin always comes to my hotel when he's in it's our city like it because it's clean and quiet just old people really take me to him mr. Protty Oh gladly but he's not there I rushed up to his room to tell him you people wanted him for something and he wasn't there I just don't know where he might be the fellow who's always bragging about what he calls dinky contact Danny Clover speaking I saw him from the window mr. Clover he's on his way up here I do get along before I can't put it down yeah I can't, I can't unclench my fist. He's up. Can you get away, please? Okay, okay, I'm going. What happened? In there. True. What? In there. See? See? That's him. I shot him. I shot him. Yeah, you did miss Morgan. He's dead. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedman, and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. September dies, and Broadway mourns its passing without tears. Its days were ripped from the calendars, tossed into choked wastebaskets, carted away to public dumps. So what's to weep for? For the gone days, the used up days, the scribbled on days? About face, kid, October waits for you with a promise in each and every nightfall, blank, empty, panting to be filled in. Don't turn your back, walk into it, lead with your heart. There's neon to keep you warm. There's spectacular to light your way. You'll hardly hear the sobbing because the winds are high on winter's eve. Walk into it, kid. It's time for another dream. But where I was, September lingered to give something to remember it by. The man lying in death, his blood etching out a new pattern on the monotone of the rug. Watching the delicacy of its flowing design, the woman who had waited on his dying, the woman who had killed him. You're sure? You're sure he's dead? Yes. I didn't want it that way. I only wanted... What, Miss Morgan? To frighten him. In spite of what I told you before, all I wanted was to scare him away. So he wouldn't touch me like that. Look at me like that. That's why you got the permit for the gun, only to frighten him away? I want him out of my sight. I want him taken out of here. Do you understand? Well, take care of it. There have been other cases like yours, Miss Morgan. Cases where the woman didn't find it necessary to kill. I don't like those women. I'm different. You've looked at me long. You've heard me sing. You know I'm different. Yes, you were killed. You think I could have stopped him with sweet talk? Come to torch-storm with my lips against his cheek? Is that what they did, those other women you told me about? That's how they stopped him? You could have locked the door. It was locked. But he got in. After he was in, I opened it and asked him, please go. I remember I said, please. How did he get in? He stood beating on my door and beating and beating and beating. I screamed and then finally he went away. But he came back. Through the kitchen window. I heard the crash of glass. He must have come up by the fire escape. Broken the window. Show me. Through here. You see? You see? And from here he crowded you into the other room where you killed him. I asked him into that room. He said, it would be nicer there. We could talk. Gave me time to get the gun. When he saw it, he laughed. He was laughing when... He wanted me to go somewhere with you, whatever had to be done now. Yeah. Sure you'll well, Miss Martin. I gave you good afternoon, Bernie. Good afternoon, Gino. Same to you. Likewise, I'm sure. Danny. What's the matter with you? Busy, busy, busy. I won't keep you, Gino. It's all right. It's all right. What's on your mind? I will relate to you the tale of Sergeant Gino Tartaglia and his trials of the last six hours. The interim between the time you found Mr. Lars Nielsen shot to death and been out. If anybody was a right arm to anybody, I am to the police department. Well, that goes without saying, Gino. I am a defender to it. Upon the arrival of Mr. Nielsen in our morgue... You sure his name is Nielsen? You're fighting me, Danny. I'm sorry. Accepted. Upon his arrival at our morgue, I had in Mr. Prouty, the hotel man who did indeed identify him as his late departed guest named Lars Nielsen. Go on. And since Mr. Nielsen had been a denizen of Black River Falls, Wisconsin... You called the chief of police there. Indeed I did. And a fine fellow he is to... Come on, Gino. I related him to events concerning Mr. Nielsen and Miss Polly Morgan. Then I asked him a little something about Mr. Nielsen. Guess what he said. Must I, Gino? This fancy suit. However, he asked me which Lars Nielsen I was talking about since his records revealed two such having resided in Black River Falls. And? And I told him to give me info on both. An hour ago, he called back. And he said? This. One Lars Nielsen was a traveling salesman whose home was still in Black River Falls. The other was, of all things, a resident of New York according to his folks whom he interrogated. Hearing this, I have located in our city such a Mr. Nielsen whose address I now hand to you. Thank you, Gino. Don't mention it. But now, Danny, I will quick you the way I was quicked. The chief of police did inform me that Miss Polly Morgan has an aunt in Black River Falls. And proud of the fact since Miss Morgan is so nationally famous. And that, Danny, is my agenda for the day. Can it be some other time, mister? I got a tough schedule staring me in the face. Police, Mr. Nielsen. May I come in? One of my kids beat up on one of them bullies who... Look, mister, whatever my kids do, I stand behind them 100%. A man was killed today. A man named Lars Nielsen. Lars Nielsen? That's my name. And look how I'm living. Come on in. Just give me a minute to vacuum the catlet off this carpet. My wife works all day, so I won't get lonely. My husband leaves me with the Hoover and the cat. And the kids whom I feed and throw out of the house. I wanted to ask you about... Oh, pardon. I want to apologize something to you. The reason I sport this robe and night shirt is I work nights, sleep days. Huh. Sleep. Lars Nielsen is dead, huh? It was in the papers. Who gets a chance at him in this house? Lars Niel... Hey, I couldn't... Oh, no, I couldn't. Couldn't be what, Mr. Nielsen? I was a kid once back in Black River Falls in Wisconsin. There was another kid who was a kid with me. Also went by the name of Lars Nielsen. This guy's confusing sometimes, especially on calling up for a date. The girl would say, which Lars Nielsen? Both our families descended from the same Swedish family tree. Made us look alike, sort of coloring, you know. I would describe myself pointedly. That Lars is dead? We checked Black River Falls police. The man who was killed came from there. 13 years old when I saw him last. I was 14. Tell me what you can remember about him. Hmm, so long ago, years. Don't ask me to count how many. It'll help us. It'll help... You're trying to tell me he's dead because somebody... One shot. Broken into a woman's apartment. To steal? No. Lars? I've been sitting here remembering him from a picnic. High school stuff, you know. Summer picnic at the falls and a kid. A girl, oh, 12 years old maybe. Lars went crazy for her, you know, like a 13-year-old does. At that age, he figures it impresses girls to break his neck hanging from trees. To beat up on a friend. He chose me. Lovely picnic. They shouldn't laugh, huh? The little girl, you remember who she was? Yeah, sure, certainly. For lots of reasons. First, she was only 12. Second, the aunt she was visiting chaperoned on the picnic. Third, she got a big crush on me. Well, I was sophisticated at the age of 14 that made me attracted to 12-year-olds. I kept shoving her away on the other Lars. She didn't want him. You remember her name? How could I miss it? This jock is whispered in my ear every time I turn over. Polly Morgan. Big deal with a ballad. Personally, I can't say it. You haven't seen her since Black River Falls. Look, mister, I got a wife with hay fever. She's spreading here and there. She screams at my kids. And I'm very fond of her. Why should I go looking for exotics like Polly Morgan? She killed Larlene Nielsen. You see, you answered my question. Oh, good evening, Danny. Come on in. Thanks, Dick. I called the 13th lab a little while ago. The manager said Miss Morgan was in her dressing room, but you were no place around. Polly fired me this afternoon. Soon as your department let her go on her own cognizant. What are they going to do? Call it justifiable homicide? We'll see. Vic, I wanted to talk to you before I talked to her. Sure. Why don't you sit down? Something to drink? No, thanks. Vic, what kind of woman is Polly Morgan? The greatest ballad singer in the country, for my mind. Besides that, Vic, there's a person. You saw her perform, you know. What about men? That's what I mean. You saw. She was right, Danny. I had to try to get close to her. Can't blame me, can you? I got teeth marks on this knuckle from thinking about it. They don't come like her. They're only on book checks. Yeah, but what makes her like she is, and why do you think she hates men? I kid myself into thinking she's afraid to let herself go. Has she always been like that? It's a funny thing. What is? She's changed. Oh, how? A week, ten days ago it happened. What did? She started smiling to herself. What do you mean? Well, I was in her dressing room when it happened. She got a phone call. At first she seemed stunned. She almost fainted. All she did was say yes into the phone. When she hung it up, it seemed like something inside of her was glowing. Go on. Well, nothing much more, Danny, except she's been sneaking away after recording dates, after performances. Yeah. But something else, Vic, has she ever talked to you about her past life? No. No, but I've wondered about it. Because has it ever occurred to you, the song she sings best, I'm in a mood for love, once in a while he's foolish things away, even songs like that, all from one season, all from... I've noticed. I'm going to talk to her, Vic. You want to go along? Sure. Sure I do. I guess the manager didn't hear about my getting fired, Danny. Passed me right into her dressing room. Now listen. The question of that doll's singing. They like her, too. Yeah, and now that she's killed her man, she can ask for 10 G's a week and get it. Maybe. Look, I've been asking you, Danny, but you haven't been answering. What are we here for? Why did you make me? I mailed you a message, yeah. Close the door, Miss Morgan. You too, out. You want everybody to hear what I have to tell you? About what? Lars Nilsson. That's the reason you're using to stay in my dressing room? What do you want me to do? Did you talk him into this, Vic? Polly, baby, asked me to come with him. I don't have any idea. I asked you what do you want me to do? Answer questions. I answered questions all afternoon. You know what happened. You know how I killed that man. You know Lars Nilsson. Why didn't you tell me that? Know him. Know a man like him? Vic, tell me once more about that phone call. What's he talking about? I don't know, baby. Afraid to tell me in front of her, Vic? No, it's not that. Tell me. Well, it was nothing. Polly got a phone call last week. She felt happy about it, like I never saw her. Shut up, Vic. Sure. Sure, baby, I just want to clear it up. So I told him he got a phone call. So what? Phone call from Lars Nilsson, wasn't it? Yeah. Yeah, that's right. It's like she was breathing the name. Hey. Vic, shut up. Shut up. Lars Nilsson from Black River Falls, Wisconsin. I don't know what you're talking about. Well, you spent a vacation 15 years ago. Maybe I did. I've been lots of places. Black River Falls was a vacation you never forgot. Remember the picnic? Vic, get him out of here. Look, Danny, just sit right where you are, Vic. Vic, I was kidding about filing. Hey, look, baby, what do you want me to do? It's a cop. Remember the picnic, Miss Morgan? There were two boys there, both of them, named Lars Nilsson. Nothing strange about that in that late country especially, where most families come from the same stock. Thank you very much for the information, you two. Not quite. You fell in love with one of those boys. Fell in love? Oh, what is this, Danny? What are you talking about? 15 years ago, Polly was only 12 years old. That's a lot. It was for Polly, because Polly built it, made a memory, and exaggerated. What do you know? What do you know? Exaggerated until no other man was allowed in her life, Polly. You too, Vic. What do you know? Then Lars Nilsson called. He'd come to New York. That was the phone call you saw, Vic. You saw what I did to her. Look, Danny, you can't make anything out of a kid falling in love with another kid you can't tell. Tell him, Vic, tell him how wrong he is. So Polly started to sneak away to meet Lars Nilsson and tried desperately to make up for 15 lost years. Vic, Vic. And then she found out it was the wrong Lars Nilsson. The wrong? The same name, the same coloring. All your songs, Polly, all the songs that have made you famous, all from the same time, 15 years ago. A summer memory. That's why you killed him, huh, Polly? Because he was pulling you, and you got the permit for the gun, and you knew just what you were going to do. The whole thing. A man following you, threatening you. Phony. He made love to me. He told me he was someone else. And I believed him. All those years waiting. 15 years remembering, waiting. And then I found out it wasn't him at all. Polly, Polly, baby. Take your hands off me! Phil, Phil! In the chill of autumn nights, Broadway echoes with sounds heard only in darkness. Pleating whispers. A woman's laughter flowing down to your end of the bar. Footsteps that fade when you turn a corner. You run toward them, reach out your hand. There's nothing. Only a closing door at the end of the long corridor. It's Broadway, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway. Tonight on At the End Presents, you've been listening to some of the best in radio drama, with Biber McGee and Molly, and Broadway is my beat. Join us again Monday evening at the same time, 9.05, when FBN presents Dragnet and Escape.
