The Adventures of Frank Race starring Tom Collins. Music The war changed many things, the face of the earth and the people on it. Before the war, Frank Race worked as an attorney, but he traded his law books for the cloak and dagger of the OSS. And when it was over, his former life was over too. Adventure had become his business. The Adventures of Frank Race. Music I say the way you wake up has an important effect on the whole of your day. Coming awake peacefully sets you off to a relaxed, poised beginning. So I came out of my nocturnal fog to the sound of... Now listen, you're gonna talk to him if I have to beat your brains. Oh now look, look what you did. Just because you wanna be stubborn. Mark, Mark for Pete's sake. Oh, oh, are you awake? Am I awake? What are you trying to do, break my lease? Well, we just wanna talk to you. You both wanted to talk to me? I somehow have the idea that the desire isn't exactly mutual. But this guy's in trouble, Frank, and he's a friend of mine. His name is Bob Kennedy, and he drives a hack, just like me. It was cold outside, and old Kennedy had on for a coat was a worn Army field jacket. He needed a shave, and the way he shaped up he could have done with some solid meals. His features were distorted with fear. I've been telling him, Frank, if anybody can help him, you can. Go on, Bob, spill the story. Oh look, Mark, we're wasting time. I gotta get out of town. It's my only chance. Your only chance for what? He thinks his wife is in the morgue, Grace. Any connection with that item in yesterday's paper? An unidentified girl? Yeah, that's it. Same description, her clothes. The report said there was plenty of indication that she might have been murdered. How do you fit in, Bob? Well, would you believe me if I say I didn't do it? Let me get dressed. I think we'd better go to the morgue and have a look at that girl. And on the way, you can break this down for me. He was next GI, studying architecture on a BA program. His wife had been an English war bride. He told me about it as we drove. I didn't marry into the royal family or anything like that. She worked in the factory during the war making ammunition. But she was pretty. No guy could have a better wife. Yet you had a fight. Yeah. We picked a great place to pull it off. In a cafeteria with a million people around. She left me there. That's all I know. Where might she have gone, Bob? Oh, I don't know. Unless it was to look for a job. Ah, this is it. And I know the boys in here, so you might let me do the talking. The girl in the morgue was Bob Kennedy's wife. She still looked pretty and young, even lying there. Bob's stricken eyes came up to meet mine, staring at me. I shrugged at the attendant and he replaced the sheet. I think you ought to go to the police, Bob. After that fight, you know what else? We had insurance policies on each other. Double indemnity endowments. They were her idea. For her old age and to protect the kid. There's the big fat motive they're going to pin on me. You have a child. Two years old. Boy. That money could be important to him. Sure. Sure it could. There's a quarter of it if the court declares you guilty of murdering his mother. Hiding out now is going to look bad. You turn yourself in... Not a chance. I haven't got a prayer and I know it. I'm going to say thanks and get lost. Mark's cab stood at the curb. Mark shot me a warning look as I came out. There was reason for his attitude. A couple of gentlemen who might have been ward healers just for getting out the vote. A smaller of the pair intercepted me at the bottom of the steps. You're Frank Reyes, ain't you? That's right. And you? What's the idea of casing a morgue? Maybe I'll live here. You don't, but you might. What's the story? Sorry. Saving that for my biography. Yeah? Well, we'll see how long you save it. Okay, get in the cab. He had his argument in his hand. It snub-nosed automatic. So I shrugged and moved toward the taxi. At the same time, Mark slid across the seat and stepped out as though to open the door for us. And immediately pinwheeled into action with a 14-inch end wrench. Take the big guy, Frank! Watch it, Mark! He missed me. Get out of the city! It is washed up as of now. And you too, Milo! Oh, brother, that wraps him up. Come on, Frank, let's get out of here before that shot brings the boys in blue. As soon as I unload this gun. What's the story on that Milo personality? I seem to know him. Milo Morgan? Sightney. He belongs to Larry Carmichael, a ragged boy. Why? Larry Carmichael. Good lad, Marcus. You've steered me into the lead I've been looking for. I knew Larry Carmichael. Big fella with blonde curly hair that was going gray. Found him in his nightclub office practicing billiard shots. Hey, what's the pitch on you anyway? You come in here for the first time in a year and all you do is ask questions. Who knows him? I don't like questions, you ought to know that. Ever hear of a girl called Faye Kennedy? I, uh, I know lots of people. I saw her a little while ago. On a slab in the morgue. Go on out to the bar, have yourself a drink. I sell good liquor. But you don't want to talk about the Kennedy girl. I gave a party. I had lots of guests. Your dame was there, I never knew it. And if you keep playing cop, I'm going to get sore. I left him as a mufti his third shot. I wasn't like him. It was still early in the evening, but several people were sitting at the bar. As I went by, a voice tagged me. Heave-to, Frank, it's martini time. Well, Larry Carmichael Jr. You've grown up. Sit down, Rays. This is Bunny Covington. Hello, Rays. Dusky hair and blue eyes are always tough on a man. When they go with everything else this girl had to offer, you want her to sit down slowly. Bunny Covington, number one glamour dev of the season. Top of the bottle for looks, poise, or money. Quit staring, Rays, she's going to stay a while. What have you been doing? I just finished chatting with your father. How'd you find him? His billiard game was off. His disposition's off with it. If he's playing billiards, he's feeling happier than he did yesterday. Might be a good time for me to interview him. Stay put, children. I'll be back. So the kid has made the big league. Meaning me? According to the rotors, you're an ultra-exclusive package. People talk about you, too. You are not as pretty, though. Well, you make an impression. I understand you enjoy getting into trouble. Kids like Larry and Clanto, et cetera. Is that what you're doing now? Getting into trouble? If you're talking about this very moment, I'd say the answer was yes. I'm going to enjoy you, Rays. How would you like to take me somewhere else? I'm in the mood to patronize several spots tonight. What about young Larry? Oh, he's a charming boy. But I'm not wearing fraternity pins this season. Well, I must make a phone call first. Well, go ahead and make it. And to ease your conscience, I'll say goodbye to Larry Jr. My call was to the homicide bureau, to a friend by the name of Lieutenant Vander. I asked him if the girl in the morgue had been identified. Sure, a kid called Fay Kennedy. Well, how's it going in the book? Homicide? She was found alongside the highway dead, and was blown ahead. What do you think? Picked up anyone yet? What's your interest in this, Frank? Just curiosity. You and your curiosity. Still like to know if you've made an arrest. Well, we brought in the girl's husband about an hour ago. And calling it open and shut? Oh, not this early. But the guy was skipping town when we took him. I don't think he did it. Does that mean you know something, Frank? I'll keep you posted, Lieutenant. Listen, Frank. You ready to go now? I'll have to call a cab. Oh, we can use my car. What about Larry Jr.? Still talking money with his dad. The child has to live, you know. We went out to the parking lot, and they brought her car around. I had to repress an exclamation when I saw it. One of those export jobs they're sending out of Europe these days. For the tune of about $7,000. I'm flattered that you like it, Race. Jump in and drive. I must think you'd want an exclusive on that. Oh, not I, darling. The whole Wim runs to handsome chauffeurs. You know something? What? Three night clubs in a row adds up to a lot of night clubs, even for me. How about going into that drive-in for hamburgers? We're in. Oh, I'm starved. Must be the exercise. We won't need menus, miss. Make it hamburgers, french fries, and coffee. Ah, this is nice. But you're not going to take me right home, Race. I'm determined to make a night of it. This is the first time in a week that I haven't been bored. Poor little rich girl. Tell me something, Race. If I can. What do I have to do to get you to take me seriously? Matt, tell me something about yourself. Ask me anything. How long have you been running around with young Larry? Oh, a few days. Just for laughs. Were you at the Carmichael party the night before last? As a matter of fact, I was. Why? There was a girl at that party who was found dead the next day. Police thinks she was murdered. You're talking about the girl the police identified today? That's right. Faye Kennedy. Well, how do you tie her in with the party, Race? The papers said something about the body being found on some highway. I'll move around, ask a few questions, listen to a few answers. Good answer. That girl, are you working on the case? Not professionally. I'm just trying to help someone out of a jam. Would I be helping someone out of a jam if I told you I saw that girl at the party? Keep giving. She was one of the extra girls hired as a maid. I noticed her when I heard her talk, that anguish accent. I liked her. I tried to engage her to work for me. What happened? She didn't want a steady job. Do you know what happened to her later? Yes, I do. It was almost morning when I talked to her about working for me. Most of the guests had left and she couldn't get a cab. So Larry loaned her one of the house cars, a Ford coupe. And she left by herself, all alone? Are you sure of that? Well, yes, I'm positive. I watched her drive away. What's the matter? Don't you like my information? I'm thinking what it probably means for her husband. Trial and conviction for murder. We'll return to the Adventures of Frank Grace in just about one minute. And now back to the Adventures of Frank Grace. I've had cases that have been failures, plenty of them. But when a kid has been accused of murdering his wife, the mother of his son, and something tells you he's innocent, you don't like the thought of failure. So I called it homicide and interrupted Lieutenant Vander doing some desk work. Sit down, Frank. What can I do for you? I'd just like to get a look at Fay Kennedy's effects. I happen to have them right here. Look all you like. As compact, lipstick, four pennies, and a photograph of a small boy. That old? That's the business. Did you know that she worked as a maid? Yeah, yeah, we know. She only worked a few days at a time, but I guess she was looking for a regular job because she just applied for a Social Security card. Now it's your turn, Frank. What do you know about her? Nothing worthwhile yet. When I do, I'll bring it to you. What are they holding the trial? Juvenile Hall. Why? I'd like to see them... Hey, Mr. Can you use a cab? A good man that's against the law. You know it. Stop making one a funny, Frank. Come on, get in here and I'll give you some lift. I was going over to Juvenile Hall to see Bob Kennedy's kid. What were you doing around here? I was going to see if I could get a pass to go in and see Bob. I'll make it later. Brief me on something, Mark. Sorry. What do you know about Larry Carmichael Jr.? That crazy kid. Always getting into jams. What kind of jams? Dames, mostly. They're always taking them for dough. I guess that's why the old man tightened up on a bank loan. Why? I've sort of had him on my mind. What about Larry Sr.? Has he ever been arrested? Oh, yeah. But they never proved nothing against him. He was indicted by the grand jury about eight years ago, but he beats the rack. What was he charged with? If they hooked him as head of a ring, he'd have been clout and hot shorts. Doing what? Clout and hot shorts. You know, stealing cars. Didn't they have enough on him? Nah. He was still clever. By the time he got finished repainting him and everything, even the insurance companies couldn't identify him. Where did he do all this painting and changing? Garage he's got. Orange State Street. Does he still have it? Yeah, but it's strictly legit now. Just the same. I think I'll postpone my trip to Juvenile Hall for a while. Drop me off and you can go and visit Bob Kennedy. Okay. That's the way you want it. Where you going now? To pay another call on Larry Carmichael Sr. Hello, Race. You back again? No, I just thought you might want to talk to me now. I might. Care for a drink? You can owe me one. Hey, I thought you and me were friends. We are, aren't we? The way you mauled a couple of my boys yesterday. Oh, come now. They wanted to prod me around with pistols. Oh, they thought you were somebody else. They knew me. I still think they made a mistake. Why don't you call them in here? We could ask them a few questions. Well, they're not around right now. Why were they casing the morgue, Larry? Would you believe me if I told you I didn't know? I'm all right. Go ahead and tell me. Who are you working for, Frank? What are you so busy about? Now you're making sounds that don't mean anything. You know the story. Kennedy, girl? Didn't want to talk about it yesterday. Well, I didn't know I was going to have you breathing down the back of my neck. What are you trying to prove? I don't want to see your husband go to the block for something he didn't do. Hmm. You got ideas on the one that tripped him up, huh? Did you, Larry? Look, Grace, I thought you worked for insurance companies. That's right. Well, go back to work for them. You'll be happier. Tell me something, Larry. You own a big garage, don't you? One of those open all night affairs. I own a service station. So what? Just a casual question. I may want to sell you some advertising one of these days. What are you talking about? If it's about me, I want to hear all of it. Hello, Grace. Hello, Bunny. Going somewhere? As usual. Take me? Why don't you hang around here, baby? I'm sorry, Larry. I need some fresh air. How about it, Grace? I've got your favorite car outside. It won't be exciting. Let me decide that. Where are we going? To see a little kid. He was tiny and toe-headed. It looked as though he'd usually have a cute, ruddy grin. But there was evidence that he'd been crying. Crying a lot. And when I lifted him, I caught a soft, tired sob deep in his throat. I was told he'd be kept there until the disposition of his father had been decided, either by the police or by the court. Later, when Bunny Covington and I got outside, there seemed to be more clouds in the sky than when we'd gone in. More bleakness to the day. What did they call him, Grace? I didn't get it. Kimmy. His first name's Cameron. Let's go. What'll happen to him if his father's convicted? I'm not sure. Go ahead. You drive. They'll probably put him up for adoption, won't they? No, something like that. Whatever happens, it's gonna be rough on him. How are you doing on this case? So far, I've walked up a lot of blind alleys. I keep getting the feeling that I'm overlooking something. Something I've already seen. Well, what about the police? Can't they help? They've got the husband. I don't know. Maybe they're right, but... But you'll keep trying. That's right. Incidentally, this is very hard to use as a running low on gas. Well, there's a station across the street. I know. Let's go to that garage Larry Carmichael's. I can't help being curious about that Ford coupe you mentioned. The service station was one of Larry Carmichael's pet enterprises, one of those super-service subdivisions that peddle everything from windshield wipers to body and fender work. It was toward the body and fender building that I made my inquisitive way. Well, the car took time out for gas, and the money took time out pretty early. There was no activity going on, but the dentists were very busy. They were working on the car. They were working on the car. They were working on the car. There was no activity going on, but the dent and scratch emporium was open, so I prowled in. I'd been peering around for about five minutes, and someone switched on a light. It was one of those uniformed private police boys. The moment I caught his malevolent grin, I knew something ugly had turned up. While I was thinking this, he leveled a.38 at me. I dove behind a Buick station wagon, crawled as far as the rear wheels of a Dodge truck, where I jumped up and tore through an open door at the far end. What's the matter, Race? Come on, let's get out of here. Oh, whatever happened? Someone set me up for a clay pigeon. I almost won the cupid's eye. It was never a dull moment with you, Race. Should we drop in somewhere for a drink? Sounds enticing, but on the way I'd like to pantomime the first public telephone we see. More cops and robbers? The next shot at seems to have blown the fog from my brain. I just caught the idea that might wrap up this package. Good. Then maybe you'll have a little time for thinking about me. I spent 45 minutes in one of those sidewalk phone booths. I called Vander at homicide and asked him to relay a message to Bob Kennedy in his cell. When Vander called back with the answer, I talked to him into securing another item of information from the motor vehicle department. When I got back to Bunny, everything had finally gelled. You know, I've discovered what makes you so attractive to me, Race. It's because I'm always having to wait for you. Do you know that you're the first person I've ever waited for in my life? Drive on, Duchess. Now you take the wheel. You know, I've been thinking about that. About what? The fact that you never want to drive. Well, I told you the reason. I like handsome chauffeurs. Want me to tell you the real reason? Go ahead. Your driver's license has been revoked. Too many convictions for speeding, reckless driving. All right, so I'm a good little girl. I let others drive for me. You drove the other night, though. You drove and you had an accident with this car. Race, you're upset. You haven't been getting enough sleep. You bought the car new, didn't you, Duchess? How long have you had it? Six weeks. Both the front fenders have been refinished. I can tell because the rubber fittings are coated with paint. That's always the tip-off to a repaint job. Do you read palms to race? It all ties in with what happened to Faye Kennedy. You see, when you offered her that maids job, she didn't turn you down. She accepted it. She'd been looking for a job, so you took her home with you when you left the party. Which would have been all right, except that on the way, you couldn't resist showing off the speed of this rocket. And you ran it off the road into some brush. You didn't hurt yourself, and the car was still drivable. But you fractured that girl's skull. So you pushed her out and left her there, alongside the road. Because you knew that with your record, you'd face a charge of manslaughter. Darling, you are upset. Let's go and have that drink. Sorry, Duchess. No drinks. Race, you can't really believe all this. I admit I cracked up the car, but the rest of it, you're letting your imagination run away with you. No. I'm sure of it. I'm sure of it because you lied. You lied when you said you saw that girl drive a Ford away from the party. I did see her, Race. I can prove it. No, Duchess. Faye Kennedy was born in England, into a poor family. Poor families that don't have cars. She didn't have a driver's license either, because she never learned how to drive a car. All right, Race. You've put it together. But you're not going to be difficult about it, are you? After all, manslaughter isn't murder. You'd have turned it into murder. You'd have let that girl's husband go to the chair. Oh, they wouldn't have given him the chair, Race. Life imprisonment maybe, not the chair. Just life imprisonment. You have no trouble being casual with other people's lives, do you, Duchess? Tell me, how much did you have to pay Larry's private cop to shoot me for a trespasser? Race, I was in a jam. Race, give me a chance. Give me a chance to show you my real inner feeling, for you. I had a look at your inner feeling, Duchess, when we saw that baby. You were about as sympathetic as a pole axe. Where are we going, Race? To Center Street Homicide Bureau. Last year, debutante, you came out. This year, you're going in. The Adventures of Frank Race, starring Tom Collins, came to you from Hollywood. The series is written and directed by Joel Murcott and Buckley Angel. The music is composed and played by Ivan Ditmars. Be sure to be with us again this time, one week from today, for another dramatic chapter in The Adventures of Frank Race. Art Gilmore speaking. This is a Bruce Ells production. Thank you.
