Crime and Peter Chambers. Created by Henry Kane, transcribed and starring Dane Clark. A well-known investigator, duly licensed and duly sworn, Peter Chambers. You're a private eye. That's your business. Anything else? That's for laughs. It's mid-afternoon and you're in a nightclub on business. There's nothing more ghastly than a nightclub in the daytime. Reminds you of the whitewash inside of an unfinished coffin. Anyway, this one's called a Cafe Tropicale and in the nighttime when its tinsel isn't showing it's considered quite swanky. Mr. Chambers? Yes? I'm Bruce Eldridge. I'm delighted that you could come. Bruce Eldridge, prospective client. He's one of the owners of the Cafe Tropicale. About 35, well-dressed and quite good-looking and quite composed, except his eyes are nervous. I take it that you know what happened here last night. Well, your partner Paul Maxwell, he caught up with a slight case of lead poisoning. He was shot to death right here in the club. So I've read in the newspapers. Observe the architecture of a little nightclub here. Now there's this narrow little room where the bar is. Yeah. And off there, there's the archway which leads into the club proper. That's where we have our entertainment. And this stairway right here? Now that leads upstairs where Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell have their apartment. Oh, the guy that was killed? Yes, he and his wife Claire. This was, well, sort of their town apartment. Very cozy. Last night, our entertainment was in full blast. Paul, Miss Paul Maxwell, was seated out here at the bar alone. He was shot and killed. He slumps over. Nobody's the wiser. Tobias, the bartender, thinks Paul has grabbed a little catnap. And it's definitely established by the police that he was shot from the main room through the archway. And what about the gun? Well, sir, one of our patrons, the distinguished book critic, Mr. Charles Morse, felt something strange in his top. Wait, wait, wait. Don't tell me that turned out to be the murder gun. Yes, yes it did. In the rush of the crowd, the culprit probably slipped into the first strange pocket he found, which turned out to be Mr. Morse's. And what did this Charles Morse do? Well, he turned it over to the management, which in this case was Mrs. Maxwell, Claire Maxwell. The new widow. Well, how many people in this management? There were three. Paul, myself, and Claire, equal partners. Claire also acted as hostess. So what happened then? Well, Mr. Morse waited for the police, told them the story, and that was that. The police, of course, now have the gun. Okay, Miss Eldridge, where do you fit me into this? I have reason to believe that it was my gun. What? I owned a gun like that. I have a license for it. Two days ago it disappeared from my apartment. Now, Mr. Chambers, I want to retain you right now to find out who stole that gun and who murdered Paul Maxwell. Well, don't you think the cops will attend to that? That's just what I'm afraid of. They'll attend to it. They'll come up with me. Guns can be traced, can't they? I see what you mean. There's a $500 fee in it for you, sir. All right. Now, just where were you about the time Paul Maxwell was killed? Inside, in the main room. I was seated at a table with Claire Maxwell, Charles Morse, and Ruth Benson, whose Ruth Benshey sings here in between shows. What were you people doing at your table at the time? We were watching the show. New actor, Calvin Cole, a wizard on the Afro-Cuban drums, and a dancer, Menage. All right, now explain to me how a guy can get shot from the main room to this bar here without anybody hearing the shot or seeing the flash. Well, Mr. Chambers, you see, there was a show. Good afternoon, Mr. Elridge. Well, hello, Mr. Chambers. Oh, you know our bartender, sir. You know Tobias? He knows a lot of bartenders. I used to serve him when I worked in PJs. Toby Tobias, blank and thin, with a shock of hair falling over his forehead, and the wise old ageless eyes that seem to be the trademark of bartenders born to be bartenders. Well, Toby, would you explain to Mr. Chambers how a shot can be fired and a man killed during our entertainment without anyone being the wiser? It would be my pleasure, Mr. Elridge. You know who we got here, don't you, Mr. Chambers? Yeah, Calvin Cole, they tell me, and his Afro-Cuban drums, and Menage. Yeah, and here's how it works. The lights go out, you see, with a small spot on Calvin. Now, he wraps them drums like gunshots. Then this Menage comes out in a wild veil dance, and they work the lights like flashes of lightning around us. So, a shot from a real gun, it gets covered by Calvin Cole's drumbeat gunshots, and then flashes a lightning around this Menage. I get it. Is Mrs. Claire Maxwell upstairs? Yeah, she is. Is it okay, Elridge, if I go up and see her? I don't see why not. Well, thanks. It's the door at the head of the stairs. Yes, who is it? Mr. Elridge said I could speak with you. May I come in? You may. She sits down, crosses her legs, and lights a cigarette. She's blonde, blue-eyed, on the sunny side of 40, and she's got her points. She's also got a pretty quick temperate scene. What is it, please? My name is Peter Chambers. I'm a private investigator, and I've been requested to look into the events of last night, so... You've been requested, huh? Yes, ma'am. Well, listen, you private eyes in books, private eyes in radio, fine, a lot of fun. When it comes to real life, I don't go for it. We got the police, and the police are working on this, and I'm cooperating with them fully. So, do yourself a favor, young man. Get out of here. You do yourself a favor, and you get... You get all the way downtown to police headquarters, the office of Detective Lieutenant Louis Parker, cop, gentleman, and good friend. Hi, I'm Peter Piper. Afternoon, Lieutenant. Oh, I detect a real sweet note in your voice. Okay, what client is paying you how much for you to find out from us what he could have found out for himself? You know the usual cry of the private eye, it's confidential. All right, young fellow, what are you working on? I'm working on that shooting last night at the Cafe Tropical. Did you trace the murder gun yet? No, we're working on it. Real interesting case, Pete. How so? Know the details? I know he was shot from the main room all the way out to the bar while the drum guy was working, the day when the lightning was dancing. Yeah, one bullet, one shot, that finished him. You know anything about trajectory, Pete? An angle of entrance. Hey, hey, hey, them's fancy words. I got them from my science boys. Trajectory tells you about the flight of a bullet. Angle of entrance tells you from what direction the bullet came. My science boys measured it perfectly. It eliminated everybody in that main room except a group around one table. And what table was that? The one Bruce Eldridge was at. There's no question, the bullet came from that room, from that table. No powder marks on the body, distance estimated, trajectory, angle of entrance perfect, everything. Well, all you had around that table were Bruce Eldridge, Claire Maxwell, Charles Morse, and Ruth Benson. And one of those is eliminated. Which one? Ruth Benson. She left the room while Maxwell was still alive when upstairs powder room. Well, does she know that she's eliminated yet? No, no, Pete. I like to keep them all guessing, you know. Claire Maxwell, the wife, Charles Morse, a book critic, and Bruce Eldridge, his partner. Well, it certainly narrows them down. To what? The wife? Why should she? She's married to a rich man, she's sitting pretty. The book critic? Why should he? If he were the murderer, would he plant the murder gun in his own pocket? The partner? Why should he? Paul Maxwell is the brains of Cafe Tropical and the operation is making money. Well, how about prints on the gun? Eh, smudges. Look, Louis, I might... Yeah, there's a request for a favor coming up. Well, two things. One, I'm going up to interview Ruth Benson. Can I tell her that you've eliminated her as a suspect? Well, it'll make a real big Sherlock out of me and it'll make for her cooperation. Yeah, well, you talk me into it, Pete. I have to break it to all of them sooner or later. What is the second favor? Well, the addresses of the interested parties. Ah, it's an easy one for a change. So, armed with addresses and an affectionate pat on the back from Parker, you're riding your white horse again and you at Ruth Benson's neatly furnished apartment. I'll be glad to cooperate, Mr. Chambers. Please make yourself comfortable. A brunette with glistening black hair and glistening black eyes and more curves than the Indiana Raceway. You give her Parker's dope about her being eliminated as a suspect and you get what you want. Cooperation. Anything, Mr. Chambers. Anything at all. Well, well, first Bruce Eldridge. He used to own a gun once. That's a joke. I know about that gun. Would you break that down for me a little? Well, about two weeks ago I was at his place. Bruce writes beautiful music and I'm a singer, you know. I understand. We were out on the terrace and he brought that gun of his and by accident went off. And guess what? I give up. He faded dead away. Guy's got a phobia. As a matter of fact, when Paul Maxwell found out I'd been at Bruce's apartment, he raised the roof. What'd he raise the roof about? Oh, well, Paul and I, we sort of had a thing going. And Paul and Bruce, was this thing what they argued about? Mm-hmm. But it's ridiculous. Bruce was perfectly innocent of any wrong intentions. Of course. Well, Miss Benson, thank you very kindly. Not at all, Mr. Chambers. Next stop, the book-lined retreat of Charles Morse in Greenwich Village. I welcome this visitor. I've always been keenly interested in the myriad and varied operations of the private investigator. Charles Morse. Tall, slender, great temple and distinguished. He's sipping brandy from an oversized snifter glass. A drink perhaps, Mr. Chambers? No, no, no, thank you. Shall we get on then? Mr. Morse, are you a frequent customer at the Cafe Tropiquel? Frequent and regular. An ardent patron, shall we say. Good. The man of your intelligence, it's a help. How come you're so good a patron of a saloon? Well, sir, it's difficult to put it into words, but I'll certainly try. Well, that's real sporting of you, sir. Are you perhaps chiding me, Charles? No, no, no, I ain't doing a thing except fishnetting for facts. Well, about my being a patron of saloons, let me see now. A good many of us, you see, in my profession, book critics, are frustrated writers, and I'll admit to being one of those. Our creative abilities just do not measure up to our desires, so I'm a rather heavy drinker and, in consequence, an excellent customer of watering spots like Cafe Tropiquel. Good enough. Do you know anything of a scrap between Paul and Bruce Eldridge? No, no, I do not. All right then, Mr. Morse, thanks for the use of the hall. Well, it was most stimulating, Mr. Chambers. I'm at the cafe almost every night, you know, so if you have any further need of my assistance in any way at all, please don't hesitate. So that night you're back at Cafe Tropiquel and the join is jumping like they're featuring a strip dancer and handing out binoculars for free. You're greeted by Bruce Eldridge. Evening, Mr. Chambers. Hey, wow. Nothing like a murder to jump up business. Quite macabre tonight, aren't you, Mr. Chambers? Macabre. Everybody in this cast of characters makes with the big words. You, that Charlie Morse. You mind if I go in the bar and mix with a Hoy Polloil like Toby Tobias? Don't mind if I leave, Mr. Chambers. Oh, hiya, Shamus. How's the Shamus business? Eh, how's with the bartending business? Eh, it stinks too, but if I play me cards right, I'm getting out of it. Well, before we go any further in this colloquy, point of order. Yeah? Scotch and soda. Coming at you, Mr. Chambers. And now what's with your imminent retirement? Listen hard, Mr. Chambers, because either I make it or you make it. Look, Tobias, a little late for riddle. This is a moment of relaxation for me. It's about this here case you're working on. Oh, well, well. Talk it up, Tobias, my lad. Now, if I spill the dope I got, this whole case becomes a hanger for you. So spill? Nah, I ain't spilling yet, but I got a hunch I know just what this thing is all about. That kind of information is good for a little payola from a certain party. Enough payola for me to retire. So tonight, I make me play. I'm off tonight at 11, and then I make me little old play. If your little old play backfires? Then I'm calling on you at home, on the phone, and with the info I got for you, you're gonna turn out to be a big hero. How much you asking for, Toby? Ten thousand smackers, and the party's getting off cheap. Excuse me for now, Mr. Chambers, I got to go to work, and don't forget to be home come 11 o'clock. The crowd keeps pouring in like it's bargain day at Macy's, and the confusion mounts, and you like it because right now you can use confusion. It gives you a chance to slip off your barstool and slip up the stairs. The door to Clare Maxwell's room isn't locked, and inside you do a rapid search, and out of a dresser drawer you come up with an interesting item, an expensive heavy gold medal. On one side there's an engraving of crossed pistols, and beneath that the initials CM. The reverse side says Westchester Target Club Competition, first prize June 15th, 1953. You slip the medal in your pocket, and you're ready for a further gander when... What's going on here? Clare Maxwell, indignation in her eyes, and much worse, an automatic in her hand, big, black, deadly. Nothing special, Mrs. Maxwell? Get out of here quickly, please. I'm not finished yet, Mrs. Maxwell. You're finished or you will be. Look, I got a right to shoot. You're a trespasser here. Now don't come a step nearer or I'll shoot. Now I've got the gun and you've got nothing but, let's say, a guilty conscience because you meant to shoot. Get out! Get out! A little lesson first, Mrs. Maxwell. Right here, see? See? This is a safety catch. The gun don't go off unless the safety catch is unhooked. That's for next time. Now for now, I take the clip out, throw your gun back to you like so, and I say, bye now. You go home but you don't go to bed. You linger over a cup of coffee like a guy in a cafeteria killing time for a dime. Then at 1115, hello? Mr. Chambers? Yeah? Toby, Toby, the party give me a bellyache so now I give the party a bellyache. Where are you at, the Trapical? No, no. I'm in a little broken down salon on 3rd Avenue and 56th. I want you to meet me here right away. Well, what happened to your retirement plans, Toby? I ain't gonna retire but the party is. The party is gonna retire for good. But... Now come on down here, Mr. Chambers, and listen to Toby make like a canary. The name of this joint... Hello? Toby? Toby! You get to 56th and 3rd fast but not fast enough because the cops are there already. And the boss man is Louis Parker. You set him up on the facts. And it's directly connected with the other thing, right? Couldn't be righter, Louis. Any idea who that certain party was? No idea at all. Any witnesses shooting? No, nothing. Look, Pete, it's late. No use you knocking yourself out on this one. Go home, go to sleep. We'll be in touch. I think you're right, Louis. Oh, by the way, you traced that gun yet? Gun? What gun? You know, the gun in the other shooting, the Paul Maxwell deal. But what's with guns? What's your interest? Nothing, nothing. Just asking. Look, stop bothering me with guns now. I got work to do. Good night, Detective. So you're still at sea about Bruce Eldridge's gun. And that after all is your real interest. That's what you're going to be paid $500 for. Anyway, you go to sleep, sleep like a log. And the next afternoon you're at the Westchester Target Club, asking questions and getting answers. You're back in Manhattan now and ready for the wrap-up. You put in a call of Parker and comes nighttime, you're a saloon goer again. Cafe tropical. Any news for me, Mr. Chambers? Eldridge, could we talk somewhere alone? Sure, come on upstairs. Charlie Moss show up yet? Expect him practically any moment. Do you want to talk to him too? Don't mind if I do. All right, I'll leave her down here for him. All right then, Mr. Chambers. Mr. Eldridge, why didn't you tell me there was bad blood between you and Mr. Maxwell? Well, I wouldn't. Over Ruth Benson. Good. Well, because I don't believe in washing dirty linen in public. Now look, Mr. Chambers, I didn't kill Paul Maxwell. I was told you people wanted to speak with me. Mr. Chambers, I said I didn't kill Paul Maxwell. I know that. I'm not accusing you. But I am, however, accusing him. Charles Morris? I'm accusing him of the murder of Paul Maxwell and Toby Tobias. Have you gone out of your mind, Chambers? Now listen, my dear cultured book critic. You see this medal, see it? Which I found in Mrs. Maxwell's room? Well, that set me on the right track. The initials on it are CM. I thought it was Claire Maxwell. But this afternoon, I learned at the Westchester Target Club that CM was for Charles Morris. And on the strength of that, you're accusing me. Only one of three people could have killed Paul Maxwell. That's right. The police have already informed us of that. Bruce Eldridge, no soap. A gunphobia. Claire Maxwell, no soap because she pulled a gun on me yesterday. And she didn't even know how to flip the safety catch. Plus, our murderer had to be a crotch shot. He killed Paul with one bullet. That, my good friend, leaves us- That is all, Mr. Chambers. My compliments. Notice, please, I'm holding a gun. And as you know now, it's in the most competent of hands. And as long as you've got the drop on us, friend, you may as well complete the story just to satisfy our curiosity. No, but I will finish it to exonerate Claire Maxwell. She had nothing to do with Paul's murder. She had your medal, pal, and a rather expensive one. I loved her and she loved me. We asked Paul, we begged Paul for a divorce, but he wouldn't exceed. So I figured out the next best way. I went to bias with the big eyes, added two and two together, and tried blackmail. I was then compelled to dispose of Tobias, too. And now, what kind of chance do you think you have now? I don't know, but I'll find out. I intend to make a run for it. So, I back to the door. And remember, gentlemen- Don't say Charlie, drop the gun! Charles Morse may have won a medal, but Parker has won many medals. Anyway, in the exchange of gunfire, Morse winds up with a leaking shoulder and Parker winds up with a wide smile. And the next day, seated in your office, you thank Louis Parker for his nick of time heroics, and you're back to your favorite subject. Louis, just for kicks, was that original gun traced yet? No, I got it right here. My bet is he bought it in the hot shop. You see, every possible mark of identification has been filed off. Nobody can actually trace them. Oh, I don't know, I don't know. Some people have an intuitive sense. Some people can tell just by looking at things. Oh, meaning you. That's precisely what I mean, Lieutenant. Look, Detective, if you can tell me where this gun came from, I'll donate $500 to the Damon Runyon Fund. Fair enough. But if you don't, you donate. That's a deal. Now, look, Louis, I got big fat news for you. I couldn't tell you before, but that gun- Mr. Chambers, Mr. Chambers, I found my gun. You what? Yes, it had fallen behind some books in the shelf and my maid and clear- Hey, what's this? But nevertheless, Mr. Chambers, I owe you $500, and I want to write my check for it this very moment. Yeah, yeah, you write your check and make it out to the Damon Runyon Fund. Oh? Give it to the lieutenant here. Well, now, that's very charitable of you, Mr. Chambers. Very charitable of thee. And there you've had crime and Peter Chambers. Dane Clark was starred as Peter Chambers. Crime and Peter Chambers was created and written by Henry Kane. Others in the cast were Bill Zuckert, heard as Lieutenant Parker, and Petoniak as Claire, Ed Peck as Charles, and Nelson Almstead as Bruce. It was directed by Fred Wade. This is Fred Collins inviting you to tune in next week, same time, same station, for Dane Clark in Crime and Peter Chambers. Crime and Peter Chambers has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. Thank you.
