Broadway's My Beat, the exciting drama of people who walk the great white way, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. There comes a time on Broadway, a little known time, when night takes its hour to die. When neon buzzers fitfully die, when the spectacular starts their final circus, and the features turn a corner, go away. Lonely time in limbo, when the sea is layered with the imagined echoes of the screams. So walk it, and feel it. The ending is something or another. And Broadway's clock spins fast. And east now, walk it toward the river, and its special night sounds and smells and its curve of waning moon stop and consider this thing. It looks like this girl's been in the river more than a couple of hours, Danny. I'd say about a day. Hold that light still, won't you, my love? I'm a little damp. I'd like to figure that out. It's all the light, huh? Yeah. Very sweet. Yeah, in fact, it's relaxing. I'd like to get something out there, a log, anything. Sure is pretty cool. Really nice feature. Hold that light still, just try it, my girl, and see what kind of a reaction you get. Why LaHonda? No mistake about it. No mistake, my girl, why LaHonda, all right? In the river? How do you figure it? Ask her something, Danny. The whole police force is out looking for her for suspicion of murder. She's in the river. How do you figure it? That's a good question, Markhamen. It's got to get answered. Yeah. Hey, you want me to wait here for technical? Sure, I'll wait. So river and the end of night with swirls of mist, and on the wind the cry deep in the steamer's growth, the muted splash of oil-flick waters, the musty odors of night-ridden waterfront, and the chill gleam of dimming reflections, and dark shadows and alley shadows gathered at this moment at the edge of night, veiled in mist, summoned by the girl who has swept away a part of her dying in river depth. And this is a June past the rouse at the end of night. Wait with it awhile. Give it into the hands of the official handlers of the death. Leave it. Another cot in the squadron at headquarters sleep until daylight strikes you between the eyes. And wake with the emptiness still heavy on your back. Walk a cordon to your office. And the day that happens into another day. I kept it hot for you, Danny. Oh, thanks, you know. I rented the use of technician Gordon's banks and burners. Rent it? So he charged me a dime. When I explained to him that it was your coffee I was keeping hot, he wanted to up the heist. I smeared on him. He oft quoted Tartaglia as smear. Big boy Gordon's bank down to a dime. Here, part eight. Hot coffee and a bucket of Zimmerman butter. Thanks, you know. Oh, here. What did it do? Danny, for God's sake. Some other time you'll charge me back for keeping bad as it was. For free. We have matters of more importance to discuss, Danny, you and I. What have you think? Your money is in my hands, Danny. First, I want you to cease to all the hunters. What about her? Your diagnosis that she had been in the river maybe a day has been confirmed by our good doctor since. And the bulls back of her neck? In the opinion of the good doctor could have come from a source with intent to kill by drowning. Could also have come from her hitting a piling or a piece of flotting or a jet. All right. What else? What else is meant for murder she is suspected of committing. For which old-time spirit she was issued on her. From which she was a fugitive. Did you bring the rundown on it? I found a note on my desk this morning where you left it, Danny, and I have brought you the rundown. Per your request, per as follows. Lila Hunter wanted for the murder of Marty Scott. Marty Scott suspected and wanted for a recent bank robbery upstate, nubbing 40 grand. Then he found shot to death in Lila Hunter's apartment two nights ago. Was a bad type, no Lila, no bank, no. You care also for a resume with a rundown from technical, Danny? Yeah, I care for it. Marty Scott murdered with Lila Hunter's gun. Gun found later, the man that was killing in an alley trash can. Chugged by our boys, then by ballistics. Gun was licensed to Lila Hunter. Bullets from gun killed Marty. Time established is 5.80 to 6.00. And you, you, a knocking was considered proper. They told me you were the one to see about Lila. Then? They told me you were in charge of her death. They told me you woke her from the river. Who are you? Tommy Hamilton. Memory of a man, memory of a poet, wino, skid row bum. Well, it was nice to me once. I drank the drinks from a glass of wine you dipped. Here, $500. Take it. For what? For the burial of a child that once won it. With a wrapping in her sly mouth. And a stone in the blood red rose on her grave. Lila deserves more than part of the field. I'd buy it for her. I'd much and I'd buy nice things for the dead. Where'd you get it? A man like you, where do you get it? I'd mind to give. Where'd you get it from? I left out of phrase. Tommy Hamilton also begger. I begged and a kindly man threw it to me. Who? Kindly man. Walks, skid row, nods, smiles, listens, throws money in the gutter. Smiles on his ground foot, very kindly. Tell me who he is. Who gave the beggar $500? Reflection of a man, Mike Ryan. Now, about Lila. I want Lila to have the nice things of death. All the little luxuries, the pospial. Another question, Tommy. How does a man like you know a woman like Lila? I told you. You didn't know her, did you? No. No. No. When Mike Ryan sent you here with that money? Yeah. I run errands from sometimes. This was nice. Hold on, Gino, until I talk to the kindly man. Hello, Danny. Hi, Mike. How are you? Come in, come in. Sit down. This is Selena, a friend. Danny Clover, dear. How do you do? Nick doesn't drink. Nothing to me. Selena doesn't drink either. Just one for me, dear. It's about Lila Hunter. I know. I'm sorry about Lila. To drown like that. And it's about Marty Scott, too. I don't feel anything about him. Dead, alive, took away from the bee. I get nothing at all. Do you think that... Thanks, dear. What did you say, Danny? Do you think Marty's death, Lila's... Yes, yes, I do. A link between them, sure. How? I don't know that, Danny. I haven't thought about it. You want me to think about it and let you know? I'll do it for you. Your question about Marty's death, Mike, wasn't it? You know that. Selena, dear. Yes, like that. Thank you. He used to work for you. For months I had a history, Danny. Long time ago. No police record, but a history. Police didn't like me. Shook me down, made pledges, what they would do to me. But I never went to jail. Danny, Danny, you know what I do now. I lay seals for housing projects. I know all about them. Just talk to me about Marty Scott. Once, once when the police didn't like me, Marty used to run down to the corner and get me the free papers I liked to read. And now no connection. None. Danny, you robbed the bank last week. What connection? Just left your employ and struck out from stumps. That's quite pleasant here. Music, stockwood furniture, Drake, Selena. Quiet talk. Don't come into my place, Danny. Make suggestions to me like that. Take me down to headquarters, say whatever you like. Not here. Danny. Huh? You were doing very well. I was going to make a suggestion. All of us here would be nicer. Selena, dear. Quiet this way, Mike. A man came in from Skid Row. He had $500. Never mind, dear. Sorry, Danny. Go on. $500 for a funeral. You want me to deny it? Tell me about it. Before Selena, there was Lila. You're a sentimental man. That's right. I wanted to pay for Lila's funeral. I didn't want to scream about it. It appears I was in it. Before Selena, there was Lila. And for Lila, after you, there was Marty Scott. That's what it was? Yes. I told Lila Marty was nothing. She wouldn't listen. When was the last time you spoke to Lila? Recently. The night Marty was killed. Come to think of it. She called me from a place in Victor. It turned out to be a Skid Row hotel. You saw her there? No. No. She told me what it was. Said she was in trouble. Said she needed money. Said she'd registered under the name of the... some fictitious name, Molly. Molly Drew, I think. No, I didn't go to her. I made a prediction to her what would happen if she played with Marty. It had happened. I reminded her of it and hung up. The place was called Victor's, Danny. Perhaps you'll find out something there. Let me know. Yes, Lila. Yes, dear. Ah, this is the day that it is. A policeman looking for a barrel lost in the pages of my hotel register. How many years back do you want, mister? I haven't piled in stacks in my room. To Molly's girls, I could write their names myself for you. Well, that's the treasure, mister. This one. Molly Drew. Ah, that one, huh? Molly. Ah, you wouldn't have liked her anyway. She's a flitter. I looked in honor this morning and she's getting away. That's how it is with you, huh, mister? You tear her name out of my book. And the other thing to think? Your true memories. Show me the room she had. Oh, sure. I'll show you the room where Molly Drew slept. Or was it late? Myself? I couldn't tell you that. Well, come on along. There's things to hush around. I ain't had time to clean. The kid didn't mind, huh, mister? Next thing to head, huh, mister? No, I'll leave you alone with it. Of course, I know how it is. Hmm. Bradleybury. Initial O-H. It's a man. All right, all right. The foot's slowly in the sound of the river, the feet of shark. Then silence, the mushroom in the pain, and the hand's moisture pushing it back. Nothing, man. Nothing at all. What can you do with six cents? Not much? Don't you believe it? Because for six cents a year, you, as an American taxpayer, are helping to provide medical care and nutrition to the underprivileged children of the world. You are doing this through UNICEF, the United Nations Children's Fund. Created by the General Assembly of the United Nations in 1946, it did such fine work in helping the children in war-devastated countries that in 1950 it was decided to shift the emphasis from emergency relief to continuing aid for the world's children, particularly in underdeveloped countries. Through its maternal and child welfare services, its mass health programs, and its child nutrition programs, it is making this world a better place to live in for millions of children. You are a part of the great work being done by this special body of the United Nations, and it costs you only six cents a year. The night music of June Cascade's out-of-law speakers glows gently down Broadway. In the languid early summer of cadence to the rhythm of blues, the crazy songs and the torch songs that were already dim in the twenties, the ladies of the spectacular sway gracefully on the Nazca beaches. The time is flashed at electronic intervals, and the hawkers and the gimmick boys don't know where. June on Broadway, peanuts, popcorn, and mannequins dressed as brides. And the room where I was, the hospital room, the quiet place was muted to the drifting night. It's a whole study, what you should say to the flames of crazy and bullet holes. What would be plainly understood between us, Dr. Singsky, that with me you don't have to schmooze. With me you can come right out and you know. I'll go call Mrs. Tapavarou. She's waiting. Hold on, Miss. I'm the doctor, huh? In this room, this is my province. In here, I give the orders, huh? So lie back and waste no strength, huh? You need to feel that there's nothing left for you. What's that about? Fractured shoulders, torn, and I speak nothing of shock? This is my province, where there is pain and shock. You wish something of me, Manny? A drink of water? I should read to you, maybe? Maybe. I told the hotel registrar. And the lobby experts have gone over it, Danny. The main molly goo was written by the hand of the deceased Lalo. The bag I found in the room. At your disposal in technical lane. No money in it. No money from the bank lobby performed by Manny Scott, also deceased by the hand of Lalo. That woman, the hotel manager, Mrs. Lettler, any question? I want to know what... It'll keep, Danny. I promise you. It'll keep. All right, I bought you something. A needle. Guaranteed to bring sleep to the restless. It'll sting a little, Danny. That's it, Danny. Good boy, Danny. See you, Danny. In four days in the hospital, a novel that Jim Rummy with nurse topless and chocolate-covered cherries and the Fallas in Homestead, completed a note from Officer Robert Berencis's Bob Hayward, the fun-loving sleuth, and visits from Sergeant and Mr. Flagler and Beatriz in brown paper bags. As the reporters had bought nothing but eight chocolate-covered cherries and pizzas. Examinations and bandage changes, solids there and boredom, and nurse topless who somehow always had two and I knocked with one. Four days in the hospital. And on the fifth morning, get up, get out of there. Back to work, check in, phone calls. I'm not going to bring in Mrs. Victor. If the prior to a victor, then skid roll. Talk to her. I don't know what you want to talk to me about. But the police has been blocking you about for four days, Mrs. Victor. So they'll hurt me? That's a long time. I've got a bum show to myself. Don't hurt much when it rains. COVID when the sun is enlightened. Watch out. Climb under the bed and watch out. Got a cigarette? Here, have one of mine, Mrs. Victor. Anyone like? I haven't got a chew on it. Sure, I'm only like. Who shot me, Mrs. Victor? You've been in the hospital. You don't know what I've been telling them cops, do you? No, I don't. Boy, I was as surprised as you was when you got shot. The lady up in two-on-two screamed down the hall. Her fuse had blown. So I was on the second floor with fuse when I hear, blap, blap, blap, key shot. Who was the lady? I checked out there. A trench with no baggage, according to her, Mrs. Victor. Sure, according to me. If you can't believe me, who you going to believe in this world? Let's talk about Lila Hunter. Lila Hunter, you know who he means, the girl registered as Molly Grove. A flitter. I could tell. I saw his feet. You understand something, Mrs. Victor. You understand we're trying to solve a double murder and you're right in the middle of it. That's Lila. That's Molly, whoever she was. A flitter. That's true, but she was found dead. She'd been dead for a day when she was found. Now, think about it. Did she have any visitors last night? I couldn't tell. But you must have read in the papers that she was wanted for murder, didn't you? Colliculation. No papers said no Molly Drew was wanted for nothing. Now let me tell you one thing right now. What do you want, Lila? That robbery with Molly Scott was mixed up in. Some of the dough turned up. Holding a guy in the hall in person. He tried to make a deposit at the Rockston National Bank on the 116th Street. Cashier called it, called us. Keep talking, Mrs. Victor. Not a minute. The team is... Scott's car's waiting, Donnie. What's your name? Ben Palma. Rico Palma. Why are you holding me here in jail? What do you do for a living? I have a travel agency for Trans Mexico. Airplane. I am an agent. And this money is from the agency? He. I tell he, I tell you, I tell everybody. Who do you want me to tell now? I tell. Which is money from the bank robbery? It is money from the bank robbery. It is for you to know it, not me. I shall pick it for you. You know who you stole the tickets to? I remember. I remember very good. Mrs. Jones, her and her husband, to take a trip to Mexico. How long ago was that? More than a week ago. I remember all of it. Three $100 bills, one $50 bill, brand new. Show her the number. And then Mrs. Jones, one way to Mexico for her and her husband. Five o'clock plane, new bill. Did Mrs. Jones make the plane? No. The air press called me on the telephone. They say, where are you, Mrs. Jones? I phoned to them. How come you just deposited this money, Rico? Two times, him on a deposit. At the beginning and at the middle. Then, just one more thing. Mrs. Jones. The more, sir. Very beautiful. Blonde, about five-five. Blonde. Head to shoulder, like a little both must eat on me. That one I don't remember. Okay, Rico. I am an honest man. I do not steal. Okay. I'll give you all the seats for this money, then you can go. Okay, open your up, Doug. Oh, hello, Mrs. Victor. What do you want? The man down in the interrogation room would want you to talk to him. What man? Oh, come on, Mrs. Victor. I want you to talk to somebody. I asked you what somebody? Man named Mike Bryan. I ain't leaving here. Supper's here in ten minutes. I'm not going to miss any supper to meet no man. I ain't getting out of here. I'd get a maid to bring Mrs. Victor to the interrogation room. What do you think, Neverland? Maybe it'll work. Maybe it won't. Well, it makes sense. Come on, let's start the next rhyme. It's not very pleasant here, Danny. You know my taste. Why do you bring me to a place like this? It's the best you've got, Mike. Once we had a pillow in here, Mike, a man would taste like you're sick at home. Another six years ago. It was in the paper. All right. And here be a little act. Selena's waiting for me. Tell us again about Lyla. She was before Selena. She was... Yeah? Maid, we're not here with Mrs. Victor, Danny. Bring her in. Got another lady for you, Mike. Name Mrs. Victor. Has a hotel. Oh, come on in, Mrs. Victor. Sit down. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Victor. You'll have supper later. Cold supper. That's what I'll have. What about Mike? Did you see what they did before? They come like that. Where do you get them? I told you where. Out of whole plows and skid row. I want to go back to my cell. A little later. Now. Now I want to go back. What's the matter? Aren't you like Mike? I'm not going to stay here. Not with him. Not that you can... Don't let him touch me. Get him away from me. Lady, I just want to assure you that I... Get him away from me. I back up, Mike. Sit down. You too, Mrs. Victor. Why are you afraid of him, Mrs. Victor? He scared me. I never got over him. Him with that gun. You go crazy fast in your jail. Why did he scare you, Mrs. Victor? I ought to help you. When he brought Lyla Hunter into your hotel. Listen to you. Mike, Brian, or whatever you call yourself. What's your idea of coming into my place with a gun? What's your idea of making that poor girl sign that register? What's the matter with you anyhow? You think I'm crazy? You ought to look in the mirror. That's what you ought to do. I told you, Mrs. Victor. He's going to hit me. He's going to kill me. That's the way he said he would. You boys haven't been here. That does it, doesn't it, Mike? Says what? You know what it does. Marty Scott took your woman, the one before Selena, Lyla Hunter. You killed Marty. I did what? Killed Marty. The Lyla's gun. Then you killed Lyla. Dumped her in the river. That's interesting. How do you figure all that? Like this. Marty pulled a bank job. He and Lyla were taken off to Mexico. She bought tickets for both of them for the bank money. Figure what this says, Danny? What you said, the first. Lyla killed Marty. Put the money. Double cross. Funny we think you got the rest of that money, Mike. Me? How? Marty didn't have it. Lyla didn't have it. Somebody has to have it. The killer. How do you like that? How do you like that? Big killer, Mike. Clever. Kill a girl. Pay for a funeral just to make a strike back on her. To come to you. So you could tell us where she was. In a flea bag under the same name like a fugitive. Like a girl who just killed Marty Scott. And held a gun on Mrs. Victor. Terrified her. Oh, I wasn't scared. I was just acting. Terrified her. Told her you'd kill her unless Mrs. Victor told the story she did. Registered Lila in Skid Row and then slugged her and killed her. And what kind of a story was that about Lyla phoning you for help for money? She had money, bank loot, Marty. What about it, Mike? Nobody takes anything away from me. Marty tried it with Lyla. Look what happened to both of them. Just do me a favor, Danny. Call it for Lila. Till I'm not too late. The neon hero Van Braublerie. The blair is the temple of yearning and dance. So reach out and grab a dream. Close your eyes and pretend you're holding something special. Keep them closed. Dream grand, long. It's Braublerie. The gaudiest. The most violent. The loneliest smile in the world. Braublerie. My beat.
