Danger, Dr. Danfield. Now good evening, folks. This is the boy with the goods, Tom Woods. To give you blokes and pokes with jokes, it'll make you croak or laugh till you choke. Ha ha, how am I doing? Ha ha! Ah yes, I'm gonna kill you folks, simply gonna kill you! Dr. Danfield, student of crime psychology, has many times provided the police with a solution to a baffling crime. As usual, there is an interesting case for the doctor today. We'll call it, Death Tunes In, That 790 Killer Cycle. You kill me, Dan. Why? Imagine, Dr. Danfield going to see a radio show. Why not? It'll be a lesson in psychology, just to see what it is that makes people laugh. By the way, you haven't told me yet whose show it is we're gonna see. Tom Woods. Tom Woods? Oh, sure, the boy with the goods, Tom Woods. You're a so high a clack, fear stacks, the cracks, the black, the smack. Oh no, no, no, Dan, not that corny guy. Well why not? There's psychology in corn, too, you know, probably the most commercial stuff on the air. Well, okay, I can stand it till you can. Huh? Hey, what are we coming in the back way for? Well, I've got tickets from the client's booth. What's that? Oh, we're gonna see the show from backstage. Oh, good, I've never been in the back of one of these places before. Here we are. Now this is the artist entrance. Hey Dan, there's a policeman. He's a special policeman, I see. He's here to see that only the right people get in, you know what I mean. Good evening, Mr. Stevens. Well, good evening, Dr. Danfield. I haven't seen you since you were doing that lecture program last year. Doing a guest shot tonight? Oh, Mr. Stevens, we just thought we'd come in and see Tom Woods' program. Oh, you ought to have something better to do than that. Oh, well, we thought we might get a few laughs. You have tickets, I suppose? Yes, yes, yes, here they are. Oh, fine. Well, it's down the hall and to the left, Studio D. That's the last one down the hall. Here, I'll click open the door for you. Yeah. Well, thanks, Mr. Stevens. We've got a lot of better programs. Tom Woods doesn't seem to be very popular around here. Huh? You should have his paycheck every week, my dear little girl. You wouldn't care if he's popular or not. Gee, Dan, I didn't know they had so many studios. I thought everything came out of the same one. No, indeed, well, Stevens, you're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. You're right. In a moment we'll return for the second act of Danger, Dr. Danfield. But first... And now back to Michael Dunn for the second act of Danger, Dr. Danfield. Helen McGregor. She's been killed. She's been murdered. She's in the sound lock. She's lying in the sound lock. Come on, Rusty, let's get down there. Helen McGregor. Why, Dan, we just saw her a minute ago. What's the matter? What's going on here? No, I don't know. Helen's been murdered. I just came in here and... Who are you? I'm Dr. Danfield. Here, let me take a look. Just a minute. What are you doing in here? This is a broadcast studio known as... I have tickets for the client's booth. In fact, I'm a friend of the sponsor. No, a thousand pardons. I am J. Sheridan Lewis. I'm the producer of this opera. Yes, yes. And now if you don't mind, I'll take a look at this poor girl. Dan, there's a signing spindle. Yes, driven clear up to the base in the middle of her back. Well, one of you want to get Mr. Stevens, the special policeman out of the artist, Dan. Joan, will you go please? Yes, Mr. Lewis. Who is she? Oh, she, my dear Dr. Danfield, is June Davis, one of the most excellent script girls in the radio business. I, by the way, taught her all to know. Yes, yes, no doubt. You know, I wish a few of you people would go back into the studio. They sound like a brother to me. You, fellas, musicians, back on the stage if you please. Wouldn't hurt you to look over your music anyway. It's the radio, you know. So much going on. Hello there. Poor child. Poor child. And might I ask who you are, sir? That's the writer, Larson Bell. Yes, I'm the writer, the poor underpaid writer. Without me, the show could never go on. I can hire writers a dime a dozen. It takes a producer to make the drivel you write less. Oh, drivel is it? All night long I sit at my typewriter staring at blank white pages. And then, and then the words come. And what happens? A bunch of lousy actors spink them up. Well, if you're through with your mutual admiration, I might remind you there's a girl lying here who's dead, murdered with a filing spindle. Oh, yes, poor child. Good heavens, I've got to get another singer. Hey, Joan, Joan, Joan, where are you? Oh, going out to get a con. Mr. Bell, you say you're the writer? Yes, indeed. Since I took over the show, the ratings went up five points. Well, I'm afraid this little event wasn't in your script, or was it? What do you mean, sir? I'm not writing murder mysteries. Here's Mr. Stevens. Oh, Dr. Danfield. Miss Davis says there's been a murder. I'm afraid so, Mr. Stevens. Do you want to take over? No, not me. I think the city police. Poor Miss McGregor. She was a nice little type. Then you don't mind if I go in with my investigation? Oh, no, no, indeed, I wish you would. Very well, thank you. Now, first of all, I want a little information. Which one of you knew Helen McGregor the best? Oh, I did. Oh, you all did, huh? Then I'd better take you one at a time. You, Sheridan Lewis. Jay. Sheridan Lewis, that's the place. Very well, Jay. How well did you know Miss McGregor? Oh, by the way, Rusty, would you take some notes on this? Okay. Mr. Lewis? I know her very well. I hired her for the show. I picked her up when she was singing in a cheap nightclub. I developed her and made her into the star she was. I see, a modern Machiavelli. She must have been very grateful to you for all you did. Quite the contrary. She didn't have an ounce of appreciation in her. When I made her a star, she demanded more money of me. I made her what she is today. I hope you're satisfied. Rusty, please. Hey, go on, Jay Sheridan. That's about the sum and substance of it. Helen McGregor was an over-aspiring, viciously ambitious, nasty little cluck. Everybody in this entire company hated her. That, Mr. Lewis, is a dirty lie. A lie, a hard lie. Oh, shut up. I'm the star of this show and I can change producers just by snapping my finger. Remember that, Jay Sheridan? Well, of course. Tom, I had no idea that you didn't feel the same as the rest of us. Well, you'd better speak only for yourself. Go on, Tom. Tell me more. Helen was a sweet, lovable little kid. She was a fine performer, great artist, and we all loved her very much. That is all except our great producer here. He didn't like her because she wouldn't let his hammy direction louse up her work. Now, careful with those remarks of, I hurry, I'll quit this show flat. I've only to remind you that I have another offer from Burton Button Benson and Ball. Uh-huh. The only offer you'll ever get will be from our sponsor offering you a ten years vacation with no pay. If you don't mind, boys, you can carry on your love feast after we've cleared up the murder. Anything more you care to tell me, Mr. Wood? Yes. Helen was a great little girl. I'll never forget how she used to smile when I'd introduce her to the audience. I'd say, here she is, folks, a pill for your ills, a thrill that will thrill with a voice that will thrill. Believe me, folks, she will fill the bill. Ah-ha! Yes, sir, and then she'd give me a lovely smile. Well, I had as much to do with her success as Jay Sheridan here. Yeah, I wish I really did have that offer. Uh, Mr. Bell, as the writer of this show, is there anything you can add to our little character style? Oh, yes, indeed. Yes, indeed. I'm rather inclined to go along with Jay Sheridan. I gave her beautiful lines to read, but she couldn't read one of them. No soul, no sense of time. Oh, then why did you give her such beautiful lines? Because she insisted. She fancied herself a great comedian. Oh, brother, how she could muck the snapper on a gag. Ah, the audience loved it, though. I always saved a joke with one of my ad libs. For instance, I remember the time that... Yes, yes, yes, yes. Go on, Mr. Bell. Yes, and that's another thing, the way Tom Woods here played along with it. Yes, I've got a hunch he'll... Hey, look, I can get another writer, too. Tell me, are any of you three men married? I'll say. What's that, Miss Davis? I'll say they're married, and they bring all their relatives down to see the show, and they all sit in the control booth. Every Sunday night it looks like an Iowa convention. Jay Sheridan has sick. Miss Davis, you're fired. So what? Of course, listen, Bell isn't married, but he has the same idea. He keeps leaning over my shoulder while I'm timing the show, breathing down my neck, and sticking his nose in my ear. Miss Davis, you're fired. I quit. Tom Woods? Why, she's always here, too. Comes down to look after his honey boy and see that he goes right home with it. Not anywhere else but Helen McGregor's. June, you're fired. Fine, and I'll get out right now. I'll leave you the time script of the dress rehearsal. Now, goodbye. Thank heavens I have got an offer from Burton Button Benson and Ball. Yeah. Hand me that script, Rusty, along with the timing on it. Oh, sure, Dan. Here you are. Oh, let's see. Well, the timing on this script ends where the orchestra stopped when Tom here found the body. The show had been in rehearsal just 13 minutes and 30 seconds. How do you know so much about radio shows? I used to do one. Now, the musical number was right after the commercial, so according to this timing, the commercial and the band number are just about five minutes. That's fine. We always figure them to run just that. Now, about a minute before the body was found, Rusty and I saw Ms. McGregor walking into the sound lock here, so she had to be killed within that minute, the last minute of the band number. Well, that definitely sets the time of the murder. Yes, within a minute. So let's see where everybody was during that last fatal minute. Now, I have a theory that Ms. McGregor was killed the second she stepped into the sound lock. Then the murderer left, either to have the body discovered by someone else or to discover it himself later. Well, I was, uh... Yes? Where were you, Mr. Wood? Uh, I was in my dressing room changing my shirt. I see. And where were you, Mr. Bell? I was down in the script room writing a new scene for the show. Wood couldn't read the beautiful scene I had, so... Yes, yes, yes, sir. How long was the scene? About two minutes. It was two full pages of manuscript. Only two minutes? Well, it took me about ten minutes to write it. When did you leave the studio? When the commercial started. I see. How about you, Mr. J. Sheridan Lewis? Where were you? I'll tell you here. Why should you suspect any of us? It could have been June Davis, a script girl, just as likely. Seems to me she was in an awful hurry to get out of here. Very good point, Mr. Lewis, but I'll tell you why it couldn't have been Ms. Davis. Because she had her timing marked right here on the script, clear up to and beyond the time of the murder. I'm sure that the engineer in the control booth will swear that she never left the booth. Now, come on, tell me where you were. Well, to tell the truth, I did leave the booth. I had a few minutes during the band room, and so I walked down to the end of the hall, getting a drink of water. That's very interesting. By the way, will you lend me your support? Not at all. I want to take each one of you and reenact just what you say you did. I want to time your alleged movements down to a split second. Because this is on murder where seconds are going to count. In a moment, we'll return for the third act of Danger, Dr. Danfield. But first, and now back to Michael Dunn for the third act of Danger, Dr. Danfield. Come along, Rusty. I want you to check the time with me. You bet. The script room is down the hall here, past the dressing room, about fifty feet. Fine, fine. Still walks naturally, Bell, like you did when you came down here before. Hmm? This is script room, Dr. Danfield. Go on, go on, let's go in. Now, I wrote the new scene on that typewriter right there. Uh-huh. Oh, sit down, please, will you, Bell, and type up a few lines of the new scene. Do it exactly as you did before, please. Oh, Bell, okay. Hey, that'll be enough. I can judge close enough by the time it takes you to write those two lines. Now, do you have the first copy? Certainly, here you are. I just want to compare them to see that you're really writing the same stuff. Uh-huh. Identical. Now, by multiplying the time taken to write the two lines, it must have taken you at least five or six minutes to do the whole job. Now, that's enough. I'm satisfied. Ah, well, thank you. Now, the person who did this job couldn't have been drawn from the studio that length of time. Now, I'll just keep these two copies for a bit, Bell, if you don't mind. That'll be all right. Have to use the old stuff now, and we won't have time to have it miniaturized. Huh? Now, come on, we'll go back to the studio. Yeah, okay. You know, they thought it'd give me a good plot for a screen story. Bet I could tell it's a picture. I thought you didn't write murder mystery. Yeah, I'd like to punch it up with a few gags. You know, I think that's what these mystery stories need, a little comedy here and there. Most of them are too dull. I don't know, that's a great idea. We're going to speak to my agent about it. Here. Here we are. I see you're all out in the hall. I don't blame you. My body was getting a bit depressed. Now, come on, Mr. Woods, you're next. Ah-ha, down woods, the boy with the goods. Yes, sir. Why do you say you went to your dressing room? Yes, indeed. The first one right down the hall, here. Oh, wait a minute, just a second. Let me start my watch. Here, all right, come on. It's a star's dressing room, always the first. Uh-huh. I want you to do exactly as you did before. Don't forget I'm funny. Ah-ha. In here. Hiya, honey. Hi, Slanker. Fluffy, please. Helen McGregor has just been murdered. Oh? Thought I had some promotion down the hall. Is that all you got to say? Why make believe that I loved her when I don't? Uh, start changing your shirt, will you please, Tom? You can talk while you're changing. Now. Oh, me? Oh, I don't mind, Barry. I'm sure Tom won't. Who are these guys, Tom, your new agent? Uh, Dr. Danfield and, uh, Miss Fairfax. He's investigating the case. Oh, cop. No, not exactly cop. I'm a psychologist. We should psychoanalyze Tom, then. Find out why he thinks he's ever a James Young dream. Fluffy, will you shut up? From McGregor's bed, huh? Wonder who she double crossed. Now, Mrs. Woods, was your husband here in the dressing room from the time he came in here to change his shirt and the time he went back to the studio? You're going right, he was. Well, how about you? Did you leave? Leaving for a minute? Certainly not. Always have to tie the big lugs tie. Come here, baby, I'll do it. Always as helpless as a kid. Uh, what's all this bad blood between you and Helen McGregor, Fluffy? She'd done her best to break up me and Tommy's home. Helen, did you ever stop to think that perhaps Tom helped a little? Sure he did. Why do you think I come down here every show day? Certainly isn't to listen to Tom. He's stuck all day long at home. Believe me, dearie, take my advice and never marry a guy who thinks he's funny. Uh, very interesting. If you've changed, Tom, we'll walk back to the studio. Well, maybe now that McGregor's dead I can stay home night. Now I guess I won't leave it. They'll have to get another singer. Uh, come on, Tom. Uh, see you in the control boat, honey. You know, Tom, you and your wife had better stick together. It wouldn't be very hard for a good prosecuting attorney to figure out that either one of you had a very good motive for this murder. Oh, I wouldn't kill a flea. And if a Fluffy... Well, she's nuts about me, but she wouldn't kill a gal. She'd scratch her eyes out. Well, here we are. Now, let's see. That took exactly three minutes and 32 seconds. Ah, what does that prove? I'll let you know after Mr. J. Sheridan Lewis and I take a little walk. Are you coming, Fluffy? I don't know what I should have put up with this, Tom Fluffy. I have a show that's got to go on about ten minutes. You better come along or you won't be here when it does go on. Or maybe you'd rather have Mr. Stevens here prod you a bit. Oh, all right. But my sponsor will hear about this. Yeah. Now, according to your statement, J. Sheridan, when the murder happened, you were out getting a drink of water. That is correct. Where? Down at the water fountain, the far end of the hall. The long hall? Yes. Hi, Jimmy. That was Jimmy Filler. Yes, yes, I recognize. Say, you want any proof that I did come down to take a drink? You can ask Jimmy. He was taking one at the same time. Brother, when he gets hold of this, will his program be pumping? Yes, I can imagine. Why didn't you use this water fountain right here? Because it's broken. You know, this murder turned out to be a good thing after all. How can murder ever be a good thing? Well, with all the publicity we'll get, I'll bet it'll run our hoop up to at least an 18. Well, here we are at the fountain. If you'd be so kind, J. Sheridan, take a drink. All right. Now we'll go up there. This is all very silly. I'm doing this for your benefit, Mr. Lewis. One of you three is guilty of murder. This is the only way I can prove that two of you are innocent. Of course, you could save me a lot of trouble by confessing. But I'm not... Go ahead. I won't raise any more. Yeah, it's better. Tell me, did your wife have any objections to the special tutoring you gave her, Mr. Gregory? Yes, you know, women, you know she did, Dr. Danfield. You couldn't by any chance have gotten in a bit too deeply with your protege, deep enough that to keep peace at home you were about to get rid of her? My dear Dr. Danfield, I am a man of the world. I have been around. I may play around, but I never allow myself to become too deeply involved in anyone. Yes, yes, I rather imagine you were that kind of a character. Oh, save it, save it. Here we are back again. Well, that concludes my little experiment, gentlemen. Oh, by the way, Lewis, that took exactly three minutes. Yes, that should be about right. Now, I've taken an exact timing of your movement since you left the control room. You, Mr. Beller, were writing a scene for the show. The time for that was between five and six minutes at the very least. Therefore, if your story is correct, it would have been impossible for you to be here in the sound lock at the time of the murder. Well, thank you. Never leaves me no end. And now for the boy with the good Samoura. Yes, sir. Well, according to your story, you were in your dressing room changing your shirt. Fortunately to you, your wife was also there and she corroborates your tale. That's found out at exactly three minutes and 32 seconds. So you couldn't have been here at the time of the killing, either. Good old Fluffy. I knew she'd come in handy sometime or other. So that leaves Jay Sheridan Lewis. Now, according to Mr. Lewis's story, he was at the water fountain getting a drink. That took exactly three minutes, according to the very best stopwatch. So Jay Sheridan couldn't have been in at the slaying. Yes, but... Unless one of you is lying, none of you could have killed Helen McGregor. In a moment, we'll return for the conclusion of Danger, Dr. Danfield. But first... And now back to Michael Dunn for the conclusion of Danger, Dr. Danfield. I said that unless one of you was lying, none of you could have killed Helen McGregor. But one of you is lying. You worked this out very well. I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Who is lying? You worked this out very well, Mr. Larsonville. Me? What are you talking about? You say you don't write mystery stories, but you should. Your plot on this one was almost foolproof, all except the one thing that murderers always forget. Oh, but I couldn't have done it. I was writing my script. You said so yourself. I said you couldn't have done it if you were telling the truth. I don't know what your motive was, Dale. That'll undoubtedly come out with further investigation. But there was one little mistake you made that made you believe that you were lying. Well, I can't see where I am. These two pieces of manuscript, Dale, the new scene you were supposed to be writing, they were written on different typewriters. That still doesn't prove that. Oh, yes, it does. That and a couple of other things. Lewis couldn't have done it. He did go to the water fountain, and he has Jimmy Fiddler to back him up. Tom Woods did go to his dressing room to change his shirt. His wife substantiates that. But you, Mr. Writer, went to the script room. I did write that scene. I did write a couple of lines of the same scene on the typewriter in the script room. You did so willingly, thinking that the time element was all I was interested in. But you didn't notice that the typewriter in the script room is an old one, with old-fashioned pica types. They don't match at all, Bell, not one single letter. Yes, but the time! The time, of course. It only takes 20 seconds to walk from the studio down to the script room, Bell. That was plenty of time for you to kill Helen McGregor and get back to the script room before any of the others got back. You had a full minute, you know, Bell. Mr. Stevens, take him out and turn him over to the police. Yeah, come on. Oh, Dan, I've got to say it again. You're wonderful. Yes, and so is my stopwatch, Rusty. In this case, it trapped our murderer. Again? Yes. By that same stopwatch, how long is the radio key? Exactly five seconds, Rusty. Exactly five seconds, Rusty.
