First on the scene, Crime Photographer. Got it. Look for it in the Morning Express. C-B-S Radio brings back Crime Photographer, another adventure of Casey, ace cameraman of the Morning Express, who covers the crime news of a great city. With the original cast, author and director, Crime Photographer, played by Stotz Cotsworth and written by Alonzo Dean Cole, tonight presents... Road Angel. Morning. An infrequently traveled side road at the far northern limits of our wide, sprawling city. Police cars are there, and a grim-looking enclosed truck, which bears the legend, City Mortuary. Another car appears, draws to a halt and discharges Casey and Anne Williams. Captain Logan and the tech men are back among those trees, Casey. Yeah, I see them, Annie. Hi, Logan. Hello. Morning, Miss Williams. Oh, hi, Captain Logan. Hi, Charlie, Pete, Frank. Hi, Casey. Well, who's been killing who today? That I don't know yet. This guy was bumped off sometime last night. He was a big man. Yeah. Looks like whoever shot him collected a little trouble himself, Miss Williams. Look at the skin knuckles on his right hand. Big boy here must have taken a healthy poke at somebody and connected. Two bullet holes in his head. Size 38 caliber, I'd say. 38 is right, Casey. You've already found one of the slugs. The other's still inside his skull. Yeah, okay for pictures, Logan? Yeah, go ahead. My tech guys have got their stuff. Thank you, pal. Any identification on the body, Captain? Plenty, Miss Williams. His name was Edward Pierce, and he was a farm machinery salesman in Ardmore, about 200 miles upstate. The killer took all his dough and his car, but didn't bother with his jewelry or personal papers, including car registration and driver's license. Oh, robbery motive then, hmm? Looks like. Hitchhiker job, Logan. That's my guess. Whoever he picked up must have pulled a gun and forced him out of his car here. Pierce took a poke at him and bang, bang. A kid cutting through this patch of woods on his way to school this morning discovered the body. Too bad this job wasn't done a little to the north of here, Logan, outside the city limits. Yeah, less than half a mile and cops in the next county would have had the headache. Why, does everything happen to me? Blue Note Cafe, Ethel Burt, the bartender speaking. You want Doyle and Kirschbaum's Dry Goods store? I'm sorry, lady, but this is one of the wrongest numbers you could get. Dry Goods store. Hi, Ethel Burt. Oh, hello, Casey. Hi, Ethel Burt. You got any coffee in the kitchen, huh? Sure, Casey. Walter, bring out a cup of coffee and bring out some more olives. You just coming to work, Casey? No, I've been out on assignment already this morning and way out too. Anything interesting? Hitchhiker robbery and murder, apparently. Gee, where's Miss Williams? She's across the street in the city room banging out her story. Here you are, Casey. Thanks, Walter. Tell me about this hitchhiker murder. Was it very gory? No, no, pal, just run of the mill. As it stands now, it'll rate no more than a few sticks on page four and maybe one of the pictures I shot into column square. Oh, that's too bad. Morning, Ethel Burt. Here's Miss Williams. Hello, Annie. Didn't take you long to finish your job. Well, you know how little it was to write. But now we got to do some follow-up stuff. Burke wants us to stick around homicide and get any inside dope that comes in. Okay, Burke's the editor, so Burke's the boss. But he ought to know by this time that any on-the-record inside dope we get from Logan is also whatever the other paper gets. Well, Burke says to feed the Captain truth serum. Huh, well, let's go. Yeah, I'll see you later, Ethel Burt. So long, pal. Goodbye. Hmm, I've heard of truth serum. Now I wonder... As I've just informed several of your competitors, Miss Williams, the state police found Pierce's car, undamaged and containing some very interesting exhibits. Well, how nice for our competitors, Captain. What are the exhibits? A fully loaded 9-millimeter Italian Beretta pistol. It was wedged out of sight between the cushions of the front seat. And some beautiful fingerprints on the car door of a hoodlum named Carl Flagler who was paroled about a month ago. Oh, well, it looks like you're pretty close to your killer then, huh? Seems so. There's an eight-state alarm out for Flagler. Yeah, it'll be a relief to have an easy one for a chain. Excuse me. Go ahead. Homicide, Captain Logan speaking. Put him on. State police again, Casey. Yeah? Hello, Colonel. You have? Oh, that's just swell. Say, that really does it. What did the punks say? Sure, sure, they're all innocent. Oh, you bet I'll come up. See you this afternoon, Colonel, and thanks a million. They've got Flagler at headquarters barracks in Clinton County. And when he was picked up, he had cartridges for that 9-millimeter Beretta pistol in his pockets. Well, looks like everything's over but the execution. Hmm. You know, it's a nice day for a drive up to Clinton County, Annie. We'd be getting away from some humdrum work. Maybe the boss will... Oh, I'll call Burke right away and ask him. Yeah, tell him we can go in Logan's car and save the paper gas mileage. You chisel her. Hey, Logan, you know, tying Flagler up with a 9-millimeter foreign pistol kind of unties him from the 38 revolver slugs at when it appears his head. I've been trying not to think of that. What are you trying to do, spoil a beautiful day? Listen, Flagler, be good to yourself and come clean. You finally admitted to the state police that Pierce gave you a lift in his car. Sure I did. What else could I do after they told me what they had on me? Now look, copper, I did throw him a ride from that big lug you called Pierce and I did have that foreign gat in my pocket. And I did try to pull a stick up on Pierce with it. That's where the big difference comes in between what you think happened and what really happened. That's here the big difference, Flagler. I've been trying to tell you. Look, I pulled my rod and told this guy to stop his car and get out. He did like I said and I got out after him. Then I make a mistake and come too close to him. He grabs my gun and gives me a sock on the jaw that almost laid me out. All I could do was run and that's what I did. I didn't kill him. He nearly killed me. That bruise in your jaws from the sock he gave you? Yeah. And look at these ladies' loose teeth, huh? They prove I'm telling the truth, don't they? We can prove enough to burn you, Flagler. No jury will doubt that you killed Pierce. But I didn't. He was alive the last time I saw him and he had my gun. I didn't have nothing to kill him with. You could have had two guns, couldn't you? I didn't. I swear I didn't. I tell you. I'm through with him for the time being, Colonel. All right, then. Take him away, Sergeant. Come on, Casey. Okay. What do you think, Colonel? Well, about the same as you do, I imagine, Captain. Maybe yes, maybe no. Casey? Well, if he did shoot him, why didn't he wipe his fingerprints off the car? The dumbest crook knows enough to do that. Who can tell, Casey? Who can tell? Colonel, are you sure your tech man didn't find even a trace of any prints in that car, excepting those of Flagler and Pierce himself? Only a few smudges that couldn't be developed. Pierce had washed and polished the car himself just before he left his home. Only a few hours ago, Casey. This looked like a beautiful day. Anything new on that hitchhiker murder, Miss Williams? Well, plenty. Ethelbert, haven't you seen the morning express yet? Why, no. A fellow left a morning globe on the bar here, so instead of buying your paper, I... You know, just imagine this fellow. He'd rather save a nickel than read fresh news, Annie. I gotta be saving, Casey, when a certain friend of mine has owed me $16.50 for two whole weeks. Look, I told you, you'll get it out of my paycheck this Saturday. And incidentally, it's $15.60, not $16.50. Casey, I distinctly remember... Oh, so do I. $15.60. I... What's plenty new on that case, Miss Williams? Well, another robbery and murder, apparently by a hitchhiker on the same highway between here and Ardmore. Yeah? Yeah. Guy's body was found last night. He was shot by the same.38 that killed Pierce. And Carl Flagler was in jail when it happened. That proves... But at least proves that Flagler didn't pull the second job. Yeah. Is this new killing up the Captain Logan? No. It's outside of his jurisdiction. You know, what I can't get through my head is how could Pierce have been dumb enough to pick up another hitchhiker... after Flagler had tried to stick him up just a little early? Well, maybe he didn't. Maybe he picked up somebody he knew. Well, either that or... hmmm. What's the big humm for? You know, most guys will pick up a woman, Annie, and under any circumstances, especially if she's reasonably young and good-looking. Oh, the voice of experience. Well, I've never seen you turn your back on a handsome guy unless there was a handsomer one just behind you. That's because the wise female knows that the predatory male must be carefully watched. Listen, few guys will squawk to the cops when a dame puts something over on them. Often they've got good reason to keep their mouths shut. No doubt. Look, Annie, if the boss will give me a go-ahead plus expenses, I'm going to give this idea a play. How? Well, by burning up some gas along the highway between here and Ardmore. Leisurely, on the lookout and alone and at search of company. I don't think I like your idea. Neither do I. Supposing you get bumped off like them other fellas before Saturday when your paycheck is due. Well, you can omit the flowers, pal. You know, ordinarily you'd spend at least 1560 on my funeral. 1650. 1560. I'm on my way to Proposition Burke right now. I'm going to see you later, Ethelbert. 1650. 1560. But if he gets... Say, he can't do that to me. We'll return to Crime Photographer in just a moment. Kathy and Elliot Lewis, on stage, formerly heard at this time on CBS Radio, have left on a brief vacation. They'll be back at an early date at a somewhat later Wednesday night hour over most of these same stations. If you've enjoyed the original dramatizations and fine performances of this outstanding Hollywood acting family, be listening for the early return of Kathy and Elliot Lewis on stage at the Star's Address. And now, back to Casey, Crime Photographer. Add any news from Sherlock Casey at Miss Williams? I haven't been notified that he's caught up with any murderous lady hitchhikers. Neither have I, Captain Logan. Last night after the first day, he phoned me from upstate and said two gals had thumb rides with him. One turned out to be a lady librarian and the other tried to sell him a magazine subscription. Casey expected sympathy and I didn't give it to him. The guy's young, Miss Williams, like Jack Benny. Let him live and learn. Seriously, Logan, do you think he has a real idea? Seriously, Anne, I think he has. Fill her up, sir. Yeah, please. The oil in the water's okay. Yeah, you look tired, mister, been driving a long way. Four days, pal. From way out west or way down south? No, just up and down. One lady librarian, three discontented wives and more sales ladies. What'd you say? Oh, I'm just talking to myself. If you hear me answer myself, call the white coats. I don't understand you, sir. Ignore it, pal. Sage, you ever hear of a gal hitchhiker along this highway who puts the big B on guys who pick her up? No. That's what they all tell me. You're a cop? No. It's a dumb newspaper guy who's getting desperate. Charge the gas you put in, here's my credit card. Casey's the name, huh? That's right. Addressed morning at... Say, you ain't the fellow who takes all those crime pictures. I'm one of the fellows who takes some of them. You up here about that killing of Ed Pierce? I was. Now I'm about ready to fold my tent like the Arabs and silently blow. Excuse me, but that line is, and as silently steal away. Oh. I like poetry. That's nice. I like Mr. Pierce, too. He's a nice fella. What? You knew him? No, no, not well, just as a customer. Oh. That Karl Flagler was arrested. Couldn't have killed that second fellow who was a bump dog. No. And I don't believe that Flagler bumped off Pierce, either. Neither do I. Mr. Casey, I have heard something about a girl hitchhiker. You have? Yeah. Look, if it's anything I can use, you'll get a hundred bucks in the morning express, pal. And your name will be kept dark if you want it that way. No, no, no. I don't want any money. But I do want my name and business kept confidential, though. All right, that's how it'll be. All right. I'm not going to stall a beat around a bush. I didn't just hear about a girl hitchhiker. One was in my car and she took me. Pal, you're the break I've been praying for. That goes double. I felt like a skunk for not going to cops is what I got to tell you, but I'm a family man. Mr. Casey, I got kids. I live in a small town. And if I told the police about me picking up a girl hitchhiker... No, I know, I know. Go ahead. Well, since this girl's pulled her stuff and a lot of other fellas besides me, so I was hoping one of them would speak up. Tell me about the girl. Here's the words. Just three weeks ago, come Tuesday, I was driving alone to the big town when, stand beside the highway, I saw a young woman. She had one of those little overnight bags in one hand. She wasn't someone like some do, but just standing there looking wistful. I've fallen for that approach. The wind was blowing, pulling her dress kind of tight against her figure and... She had a swell figure. You know what I thought to myself? Maybe you better not tell me. Well, it sounds crazy and it was crazy, but I said to myself, Dan Reynolds, that girl with the dress flapping like wings, looks like an angel of the road. Road angel, huh? Like I remarked a while back, I like poetry. Yeah, I see. Well, I stopped and the girl got in and before we'd driven together a dozen miles, she'd given me reason to believe she wasn't any angel. She suggested I turn off into a side road and park. Oh? She made the suggestion with a gun poked against my ribs. Ah, I see. It was one of those snub-nosed revolvers. A.38, I think. A.38 kill piercing out of the... Yeah, yeah, so I read in the papers. If this girl had been a man, I might have tried to take it away from him. As it was, I just let her take my money. Pierced another fellow she killed must have acted different. The cops found my car the next day. I'd simply reported stolen while parked. Look, tell me everything you can remember about this gal, Mr. Reynolds. Well, I'm not too good at remembering faces, details, that is. She had sort of medium-colored hair, I think. Blue eyes or maybe brown. She wasn't exactly tall or short, neither. Ah, but a figure. Mm-hmm, I look for a road angel. That's her, Mr. Casey, till after she gets inside a man's car. Oh, 300 more miles up and down. And no road angel. Ah, this job is driving me nuts, I think. Oh, oh, oh. Uh, can I give you a lift, sister? Oh, thanks. I was hoping somebody would stop. Oh, sure. I'll be right back. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was hoping somebody would stop. Oh, sure. Let me put that little bag of yours in the bag. Oh, it doesn't take up much room. I'll keep it beside me. Oh, okay. How far are you going? Canesville. A few miles this side of it, really. You going that far? Sure, farther, right through. Oh, that's fine. I'm beginning to think so, too. My name is Casey. You care to give me yours? Why not? I'm Doris Chapman. Yes, okay. Or do you want to be Miss Chapman? Does your wife permit strangers to call her by her first name? My wife? Uh, you know, a husband never knows what his wife permits strangers to do when he's not around. That's a very cynical statement. Oh, yeah, I'm a real cynical husband. Are you married? No. Engaged? Divorced? No. How old are you? I'm 21, Mr. Casey. But aren't those rather personal questions? Uh, hmm. I'm beginning to wonder. About what? Angels. Angels? Uh-huh. Maybe the wrong angel. Well, Mr. Casey, I had to leave college several months ago and take a full-time job. Uh-huh. I found a nice one with a lovely family. The job pays well, but supporting my younger brother I must economize. Oh, sure, sure. Well, that's why I try to save bus fare as I've done with you. Oh, I didn't mean to tell you all this, but you've been nice. Not like a lot of men I've met, so I owed you an explanation. Oh, no, you didn't. That's all you do. Gee, I might have glad you felt like giving it to me, though. You're an okay kid. How often can a guy be wrong? Men are always wrong. What? This is a gun you feel in your side sap. Why, I see it is. It's a.38, snub-nosed. Turn right. You're calling the turns. I always do. Boy, you really fooled me with that act of yours. I've got different acts for different men. You know your men, huh? I've had reason to know them. They're all lousy. Now stop your car. Now get out. Okay. Give me your dough. Here's my wallet. Help yourself. Thanks. Now take a nice long walk. That's what a man told me to do one time when he threw me out of his car. So long, sap. So long, angel. Now how could she? Oh, how will I ever know? How could she? Oh, how will I ever explain this? Okay, all right. Rasmus, go ahead and needle me, Annie. Give me the complete works. I had the girl right there in my car and then she took me like, oh, nuts. I'm not even going to ask you how it felt to get out and walk, Casey. Oh, why not? Go right ahead. Only had to walk about five miles before I was able to thumb ride. Yeah, the bad publicity you newspaper people have given hitchhikers must make the racket pretty tough. Oh, calm down, Casey. I'm not going to rub it in. No, neither am I. Well, thanks. You know, I'd have taken a chance on getting that 38 away from her if I... I don't know, I just couldn't sock even her sort of a gal. Casey, you remember pretty exactly what she looks like. Oh, I haven't been photographing people all these years without looking at them. I can even tell you the shade of lipstick and nail polish she uses. You didn't have that sort of description to go by. Miss Williams will have it. Annie? Me? Casey, from what you told us, this road angel is very anti-man, which has given me a kind of a sort of a idea. On and on, up and down. No road angel here, no road angel there, only road. And, well, Casey said he began talking to himself after a few days of this. And I gave him the raspberry. Uh-oh, it's her. It couldn't be anybody else. Uh, you're looking for a ride, sister? No, thanks. I'm waiting for somebody. A driver wearing pants and a wolfish grin? Not necessarily. Oh, sure you are. I know you. You know me? Same as one soldier knows another by the uniform. I used to play the road myself in a tight-fitting dress and clutch in a little overnight bag. Yeah? Mm-hmm. I gave it up a couple years ago for a better racket, the road small-time kit. There's too much risk for too little income. Come on, hop in. Let's get acquainted. Okay. Uh, toss your bag in the back on top of my luggage. Swell-looking suitcases you've got back there? Yeah, a lot of them. Filled with swell clothes. I do all right. Close the door. Let's get rolling. My name's Annie Johnson. Present, that is. What'll I call you? Doris will do. Doris Larkin. What college you out of? College? Yeah. I got graduation papers from the Hatchipo myself. Oh, that's the woman's prison in California? Mm-hmm. Are you a reformatory gal? I was an almyra for a while. You're a liar. They don't put kids in there. I'm over 21. Save that for guys who are afraid of minor trouble. You're San Quentin Quail, under 18. You're really pretty smart. Yeah, with my background, I ought to be. What's your racket now? Oh, same as yours, men. But I make them pay thousands while you collect dimes. I collect more than dimes. Sure, yeah. You rope a sap for as much as a century now and then. But your average is small. And sometimes you hit a guy who hits back. No guy hits back at me and gets away with it. Yeah, I've heard you punks talk big before. I used to do a little bragging myself, as I remember. Does this look like I'm bragging? Oh, you lug around that 38? And I've used it. Say, I read about you in the papers. A guy named Pierce, maybe, and another named Hodgkins. Yeah, I killed him. And the cops are looking for a male hitchhiker to pin those jobs on. Cops are men, which means they're dumb. I hope they burn some man for those two jobs I did. You never admit things like that, do you, Doris, except when you're alone with a friend like me? Oh, I don't figure you for a friend, Annie. No? I never had a friend and never expect to have one. My father used to slug me and even my mother beat me up until I ran away from home. I don't trust anybody. I hate everybody. Now turn it to the next side road we come to. You're gonna take me, huh? For all you've got. With a prison record like you've got, you're not going to call copper any more than a married man would. Well, I won't make any squawk, Doris, because I'm not going to be taken. Oh, let go of my hair! You give me that gun and I'll put your hair out! I will! I'm not a man, and I don't mind messing you up. Annie! Here's Angel's gun, Casey, and you can take the rest of her, Captain. These guys! Surely you remember me, Miss Chapman, and you'll get to know Captain Logan here very well. He's boss of the homicide bureau. Yeah, and if you'd been as smart as you thought you were, Doris, you'd have noticed that a car was following us. It's followed me for almost four days, just waiting for you to take a ride and talk. She said what you hoped she'd say, Casey. I didn't say anything. You can't prove I did. But I can, my pet. Under all those suitcases is a tape recorder that I started when you got into this car. It's taken down your every sweet word. And I'm pretty sure the bullets that killed Pearson Hutchkes will match the rifling of this.38 revolver. If that isn't enough evidence, here's one guy you may get out and walk who'll talk loud and long and cordially. You dirty rats! You lousy skunks! You dirty rats! Come, angels. That Doris's.38 revolver proved to be the one which killed them fellows, huh, Casey? Yeah, Thelbert, that's right. And that plus the confession that Miss Williams got will bring a conviction from even the dumbest jury. Meaning all male jury. And Doris is just a little over 18, so she won't go before a juvenile court. She gets the works. Any girl as bad as her deserves the works, I suppose. Well, the people who made her bad deserve it, Thelbert, too. Kids like her don't just happen, you know. No, no, they don't. But no matter what it is that makes mad dogs, they can't be allowed to run loose. Yeah, let's talk about something else, huh? I know what. That money you owe me, Casey. Oh, never mind. While you was out of town, I couldn't expect to collect it, but now... Well, I haven't forgotten it, pal. Here. There you are. 1650. 1650? Well, that's right, isn't it? Sure, it's right, but 15... 1650. Miss Williams, did you feed Casey some of that truth serum you were getting for Captain Logan? You have been listening to Crime Photographer, played by Stotz Cotsworth, and based on the original character created by George Harmon Cox, is written for radio by Alonzo Dean Cole, with Jan Miner as Anne, John Gibson as Ethel Burt, Bernard Lenro as Captain Logan, Lou White's original music, and Teddy Wilson as the Blue Note pianist, Crime Photographer is produced and directed by John Deets. Join us again next Wednesday night at the same time for another fast-moving adventure with Casey, Crime Photographer. For all our men in uniform overseas or anywhere away from home, home is Mail Call. Through the letters you send to those you know, you brighten life and make home close. Write often all the items you know about the place he left behind. Make your friend or relative glad instead of sad when Mail Call rolls around. Gangbusters go into action Saturday nights on the CBS Radio Network.
