Good evening. This is Peter Lawry. People have many different ways of spending their spare time. Some collect stamps, other build model planes and ships, and there are a couple of people we know whose hobby is murder. Look, they don't indulge themselves, but they track down the ones who do, as you hear tonight in a mystery playhouse. Tonight, the mystery playhouse calls back for a return engagement to those two lovebirds of crime, those babes in the underworld, Mr. and Mrs. North. That is, we call back Pam North. Seems Jerry North is away someplace on business or something. Before he left, the mast of the North Menage made his loving spouse promise faithfully to keep out of other people's murders, which, knowing Mrs. North, as we do, seems like a waste of good bread, doesn't it? However, she's making an effort along those lines as we drop in on her this evening. She has just settled herself purposefully with a good book. He's about to open it. When the doorbell rings, she closes the book and hurries to the door. Hello, Mrs. North. Oh, Weasel. Hello. Come in. Oh, thanks. Where's Mr. North? Oh, Jerry's out of town on business. Ah, that's too bad. On account of... I would have liked to have seen him on account of you and him. He's always interested in what I do on account of it was you two which reformed me. And so I wanted to tell you what I'm doing on account I got me a new job. Oh, that's wonderful, Weasel. What's the new job? I am bouncer in General Fowler Roller at Thurman Fox's Club. But Weasel, that's a gambling club. Well, I hate to contradict you, Mrs. North, but I happen to know it ain't. I had to rogacate at the boss thoroughly on that point before I took the job on account of I am an honest man now when I wouldn't stoop to selling my hands with anything which wasn't strictly legitimate. I'm afraid you made a mistake this time, Weasel. Oh, no, I didn't. I know what I'm talking about. Look, what is gambling? Why, it's taking a chance on something. That's right, taking a chance. Well, that don't never happen at the club. They don't never take no chances. What do you mean? The tables is all fixed. So you see, it ain't gambling. It's a sure thing for the club. Oh, but Weasel, that's terrible. Shame, Mrs. North, it sure grieves me if I strayed from the straight and narrow. On account I am strictly reformed, but I still don't see what is wrong about not gambling. Plenty, the way Mr. Fox does it. Well, if you say so, I guess it must be so. Weasel, it's wrong to cheat, and Mr. Fox cheats. Oh, okay. So what must I do? Well, I really don't think you ought to work for him. Gee, I come here thinking you was going to congratulate me on my job and instead you say I ought to quit it. Well, that's life. Being ever so humble is always a fine enigma. I'm sorry, Weasel. Oh, well, what is what is what is. I shall abdicate myself for Mr. Fox's premises forward. Oh, that's wonderful. I wonder how he's going to take it though. Look, Mrs. North, would you maybe be so good as to tender in my resignation for me to Mr. Fox on account of maybe he'd think it better from you? I wouldn't know exactly what to say. Of course, Weasel, I'd be glad to help you. Ah, gee, thanks, Mrs. North. Of course, I did promise Jerry I'd stay clear of people of questionable character while he was away. But I know he'd want me to help you. And anyway, Mr. Fox's character is something like the not gambling. What do you mean? Just that he's not a questionable character because as far as I'm concerned, there's no question about it. He's all bad. Hello, Weasel. Hello, Mr. Crane. Mr. Crane, may I present Mrs. North? Oh, how do you do? Mr. Crane manages the club. Mr. Crane, is Mr. Fox here tonight on account of me or Mrs. North? There's some business to conclude with him. He's upstairs in his office. Oh, good. Come on, Mrs. North. Let us proceed. Thanks for it. All right, Weasel. Oh, wait a minute. Who is this coming toward us? Oh, that's Mr. Lawson, one of the regular customers. Does he always have a gun? Huh? All right. Stay where you are, all of you. Don't move or I'll shoot. Why, what's the idea, Terry? The idea is I'm gonna put an end to this dirty racket you've been running. What do you mean? I mean I've lost over $5,000. Three nights in a row now and I don't like it. Well, I can't help it if you've been having bad luck. Luck? Don't hand me that. The tables are fixed. You know they are. Please don't make a scene. Don't make a scene, he says. My friend, you don't seem to understand. I'm gonna kill you. No, Terry, wait. You shouldn't do that, Mr. Lawson, on account of any right for people to kill people. Isn't it, Mrs. North? No, it isn't. You keep out of this. But it ain't. Just suppose everybody went around killing everybody. Why, pretty soon there wouldn't be anybody left and then where would you be? Please, Terry, give me a break. I'll give you a break, all right, like you gave me at the tables. But if you're mad at the club, Mr. Lawson, you'd ought to rather shoot Mr. Fox instead of Mr. Crane on account of he owns the club. And on second thought, you hadn't ought to hit him either or kill him either on account of you hadn't ought to kill nobody. I told you to keep out of this. Now, wait, wait a minute. I resent your tone of voice. Look, if you want trouble, too, you'll get it. Now, look, don't point that gun at me. Look out, Weasel. Get that gun. Good work, Weasel. You knocked him out. Yeah, but he got me. Oh, Weasel. It's okay, Mrs. North. It's right that I should go at this. I've been a bad man. But you can remember, I died saving somebody else. Mr. Crane, where's the telephone? We've got to get a doctor. It's too late. It's too late. But don't worry. I'd die happy. Weasel, wait a minute. Look. That table. See there with a hole in it? That's where the bullet went. You're all right. He missed you. He missed? You mean, well, how do you like that? And I was already hearing pretty music. Well, it just goes to show you can't always believe what you hear. Mr. Fox, this is Mrs. North. Delighted. Sit down, both of you. What was the commotion downstairs, Weasel? One of the customers got peeved with Mr. Crane on account of he dropped five grand three days running. Five grand? Yeah. So we decided the tables was fixed and so we decided Mr. Crane ought to be fixed and so we decided to fix him. With a gun? What? Yeah. Only I removed it from him forcefully and we tied him up and left him in a coat room. Indeed. So Crane owes his life to you, eh? Well, well. And I am indebted to you for preserving the manager of my club. Well, Weasel, it looks like you rate a bonus. Oh, I don't want no bonus, Mr. Fox. What? Why not? Well, that's what I want to see about I, um, I, you tell Mrs. North. Mr. Fox, Weasel would like to resign if you don't mind. Looking for greener pastures, eh? Greener pastures? Oh, no, it's just that, well, suppose you decided to make a new start in life, Mr. Fox. Only after you did you found out it wasn't. You'd want it too, wouldn't you? Yeah, want to what? Resign. Except you wouldn't, of course. Resign? No, decide to make a new start. Only he did, so he does. I hope you don't mind. I beg your pardon. It's okay, Mr. Fox. I never can understand it either, except of course I am very bright, but is it okay for me to quit? Well, if you're not happy here... Oh, well, ain't that I'm not happy. It's just that, well, like she told you, whatever she did tell you, it's like that. Oh. Well, I'll think it over. Okay, and I sure hope you decide to let me quit. And I kind of, that's what I'm gonna do. Well, here's the cult, ma'am. I'll go and see how Mr. Lawson is. All right. Where's Lulu, the heart check girl? I told her to stay here and watch Mr. Lawson and Hanna if he tried to get away. There she is, Weasel. Where? On the floor. No, that's Mr. Lawson. We left her. I know you're lying. That isn't it. It's Lulu. She's sleeping. She's been knocked out. Yeah, I guess she has. Mr. Lawson must have come too and got loose and conked her. Looks like it. Come on, we got to warn Mr. Crane. All right, Weasel. How about Lulu? Oh, I think she'll be okay. But Mr. Crane won't if Mr. Lawson gets to him first. Well, he doesn't seem to be in here at the table. No, that's funny. He don't seem to be in our place. Wait a minute. There's his wife. Maybe she knows where we went. Come on. Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. Weasel, you're just the person I want to see. Where's my husband? You took the words right out of my mouth. What? I was about to interrogate you on the same point. Oh, haven't you seen him? A little while ago, but not since Mr. Lawson escaped. Well, who's Mr. Lawson? One of the customers which wants to shoot Mr. Crane. Oh, well, if you find Kenneth and he hasn't been shot, tell him I'm looking for him. Okay. You don't seem very concerned about your husband's life. The only concern I have about anyone killing him is that it would keep me from having that pleasure myself. Maybe he went upstairs to see Mr. Fox. Well, let's go see Weasel. If you find him, tell him I'm waiting. What has she got against her husband? Missy McGilroy. Who's she? A dame which Mr. Crane is infatuated with. Oh, I see. Mr. Crane is all the time plying upon Missy all kinds of expensive gifts which Mrs. Quank thinks it ought to be by rights tended at her. Well, no wonder she didn't. What's the matter? Look, Weasel, the bottom of the stairs. Quiet. Mr. Crane. Looks like he's had an accident. Let's see. His neck seems to be broke or something is broke anyhow on account of he's dead. Oh, Weasel. He must have fell down the steps. Mm-hmm. Fail- alert. Was pushed. Gee, Mrs. Quank will be so on account of somebody spoiled the fun. Unless she's the one who killed him. Oh, if she didn't do it. What makes you so sure, Weasel? On account of the way she thought. If she had have just killed him, she wouldn't say she wanted to kill him on account of that would make her liable to be suspicious. That's sound reasoning, Weasel. Unless that's just the way she wanted us to reason. What's going on here? Oh, Crane. Is he dead, Weasel? Oh, hello, Mr. Fox. Yes, he is buried then. Well, what happened? Did Lawson get away? Yes, Mr. Fox, but I'm not so sure he's the murderer. Why not? Well, he made quite a scene when he threatened Mr. Crane. Practically everyone in the club noticed it. And they'd know that if Mr. Crane was killed tonight, Mr. Lawson would be suspected. I see. So you think? Any enemy of Mr. Crane might have taken advantage of Mr. Lawson's threat. Yes, quite possible. Or for that matter, any enemy of Mr. Lawson. Weasel, get in the other room and say that nobody leaves the place. Yes, Mr. Fox. We better call the police. You know, Mrs. North, I don't like this. Were you very fond of Mr. Crane? Oh, that's not what I meant. But murder in the club, bad for business, very bad for business. Well, the police should be here pretty soon. Yes, I suppose Mrs. North, you feel it's your duty to tell the police about my little chat with you. Naturally, Mrs. Crane. Yes, of course, you're just the type. What type? Good deed for the day and all that. Well, you did say you'd like to kill him. Well, so did practically everyone who knew him. Yes, he wasn't exactly what you'd call popular. However, I wasn't the one to have a good fortune to do the job. Do you think it was Lawson? Possibly. But if I were trying to solve this case and come to think of it, perhaps I'd better try to before Miss Girl Scout here has them pinning the rap on me. Mrs. Crane, I think... I begin looking for the source of my dear departed husband's sudden affluence. What do you mean? Well, Mr. Fox isn't the most generous employer. Why, I gave Crane a good salary. Oh, yes, but not good enough to buy mink coats and diamond pennants and the like. Do you mean that all of a sudden your husband started buying you expensive presents? Oh, no, not me. That's what gripes me. He bought them for that dizzy little McGillroy dame. And it would be very interesting to find out just where the money came from. Maybe he was blackmailing someone. And the blackmailer killed him. Perhaps. At any rate, it's a thought worth toying with. So you see, Mrs. North, the case isn't quite as simple as you might like to make it. Gollies! What is it? I just thought of something. It is simple. It's very simple. I know who killed your husband, Mrs. Crane, and I can prove it. Really? Only there's one thing I need and I think I know how to get it. I've got to go home now, but when the police get here, tell them that I'll be back as soon as I can. It won't be long. But how, Mrs. North, can you be so sure you know who the murderer is? Because, Mrs. Crane, you just told me. All right, this is it, men. Now we can... Oh dear, oh dear, I might have known. I might have known. Oh, hello, Sergeant Mullins. Mrs. North, as I live and breathe, although I sometimes wonder if it's worth the trouble, what are you doing coming out of a building that a murder has just been reported in? I was just... Never mind that. What's more to the point? What were you doing in there? Well, I... Never mind that either. Right now I know that where there's a murder, there's a North. So I might just as well accept it and let it go at that. Well, I can't stand here talking to you. Someone might see me. What's wrong with that? It'll spoil my plan. Oh, you have a plan already? Well, naturally. Naturally, yeah. So I'd better get going, sir. All right, I'll take you. Where to? Oh, but you have a job to do here. I'll send the boys in, but I'll go along with you. Oh, but Sergeant Mullins... Mrs. North, when a Mullins makes up his mind, it's as good as made up. Okay, boys, go on in and get started on the routine. I'll be back as soon as I can. But first, me and Mrs. North are going for a ride. Get in, Mrs. North. Well, all right. That's the idea. Now, where are you going? Home. Oh, wait a minute, Mullins, you're going the wrong way. Am I now? Yes, I want to go home. So you said. But this isn't the way. I know. I'm taking you to headquarters. Why? Because, Mrs. North, I'm going to hold you on suspicion of murder. What? That's right. Are you joking? Indeed, I'm not. Didn't I find you myself running away up in the scene of a crime? But I had a plan. Sure, sure. A plan to conceal evidence, no doubt. What evidence? Now, how should I know that? With you concealing it. Oh, really, Sergeant Mullins, you're not serious about this. No, I'm not, am I? You can't really suspect me. I'd suspect my own wife, if she gave me reason. I come to think of it since many the time she has. But, Sergeant Mullins. Now, listen to that idea about it, Mrs. North. I hate to do it, but duty is duty. You're making a terrible mistake. Well, now we can't all be perfect, can we? But Bill, Sergeant Mullins has locked me up. But Bill, you're a lieutenant on the Homicide Squad, he's only a sergeant. I see. Well, all right, Bill, I think you're horrid. But Mr. Burgess, you're my lawyer. Make some let me get out of here. Why, people can't just go around putting people in jail. It's not only unconstitutional, it's mean. Hello, Jerry? I'm in jail and I have a dreadful cold. Well, all I did was I didn't do anything. But Jerry, but Jerry, well, I won't stand for it. Just because I was running away doesn't mean I was running away. And I could prove it if somebody'd only believe me. Hello, operator. Get me the White House. Hello, Mrs. North. Oh, hello, Weasel. How are you? As well as can be expected after a night in jail, I guess. Weasel, I want to get out of here. It's a cinch. I got to hold the Jigamak fidget. Who? Jigamak fidget. He's the mouthpiece which always spung me before I will reform. He's hard stuff on the habeas carpeyals and stuff like that. Oh. So don't worry, he's fixed everything. You mean I'm to be released? That's right. Oh, Weasel, I can kiss you. Ah, here comes the Tinko. Tinko, unhand this woman for me. Mrs. North, you are a free woman of the world. Gee, she did kiss me. What do you want to see Mr. Fox about? Well, there's one thing I still have to find out before the case is completely solved, Weasel. And perhaps I can find it out from him. Oh. With the police suspecting me, I'd better solve it as quick as I can. Well, here we are. I'll knock. Who's there? Me, Weasel. Oh, all right, come on in, Weasel. Mr. Fox, we just wanted to... Mr. Fox, what's the matter? What are you staring at? Mrs. North, where did you... how did you... I've got to get out of here. Weasel, get him. He's going for the back door. Mr. Fox, wait. Let go. Hold him, Weasel. Ha, I knocked him out. Good for you. Gee, it's a good thing I'm quitting on account of this. Would get me fired on account of employers, usually resents getting socked by their employees. Wait a minute. Weasel, I hear someone coming. Oh, he must have pushed the button. What button? On his desk. It's a signal for the boys, and them boys are up. We better get out this back way. All right. Only, you wanted to talk to Mr. Fox. Well, I'll bring him along. Help me pick him up. Here's his feet. Okay, the fireman's cali. Come on, let's go. Quick, down these stairs. All right. I wish Mr. Fox didn't eat so much. He's heavy. Oh, here comes the boys. Oh, golly. They're shooting. Hurry, Mrs. North, the door to the back alley is right ahead. Keep going and keep playing. Here's the door. Oh, thank heavens. There's a cab at the head of the alley. Good, we'll try and make it. It's hard carrying Mr. Fox. Can I help you, Weasel? No, no, just keep going. Oh, here they come. And here we go. Get in, Mrs. North. Start moving. Drive it quick. It don't matter where. Keep down, Mrs. North. I am. Ah, we made it. It's okay, Mrs. North. They're out of sight. Oh, good. Oh. What's the matter, Weasel? I've been shot. I'm dying. Now, Weasel, we were all through that before. At this time, it's real. I'm all over blood. Good heavens, you are. I'm dying. Oh, wait a minute, Weasel. That's not your blood. Huh? No, it's Mr. Fox's. The bullets hit him, see? Oh. We better get him to a hospital. Me too, because even if I ain't shot, I certainly feel sick. Maybe I should have stayed at the hospital. I still don't feel so good. Well, come on in, Weasel, and I'll give you a nice, cool drink. Okay, thanks. Go on into the living room. I'll be right in. First, I want to call the hospital again and see if Mr. Fox has regained consciousness again. All right. I think I better lie down on a kind of I can't stand so good. Well, you can stretch out on the sofa. No, I can't. Why not? Because somebody's on it already. What? Who? Mr. Crane's wife. Well, what's she doing here? I don't know. Oh, why don't you ask her? I can't. She's dead. You see, Sergeant Mullins, when Weasel and I told Mr. Fox about all the money that Mr. Lawson had been losing at the club, Mr. Fox seemed very surprised. So you said. Then when Mrs. Crane mentioned Mr. Crane's sudden wealth, I got a hunch that he'd been pocketing some of the club's money and not reporting it to Mr. Fox. And when Mr. Fox found out about it, they had a fight and Mr. Fox killed Mr. Crane. And so you say you know the murder and run out, hoping Mr. Fox will follow and try to shut you up. And that would give him away. Yes. But Mrs. Crane evidently came to my apartment to find out what I knew. And then Mr. Fox must have come, and in the dark, mistook her for me and killed her. That's right. I've just been at the hospital, and he's been talking. It all happened like you say. Well, then you see, Sergeant, the case is all solved. And it would have been sooner if you hadn't gotten the crazy idea of locking me up. Oh, it wasn't so crazy. What do you mean? Well, just look now. You get a murderer to go gun for you. And but for the grace of God, Nala Wish's Mullins, he'd have got you two. And then you go into his den again and get yourself shot at by a bunch of his thugs. Is it any wonder Mr. North wanted us to keep you locked up? Mr. North? Do you mean that that Jerry, that he... Yes. He tells us if we find you mixing and murders while he's away, to lock you up. And a good idea that is to... Of all the nerve. I'll never speak to him again as long as I live. Oh, just wait till I see him. I'll tell him a thing or two. I won't forget this ever. Of all the low, mean, rotten, sneaky... Just a minute, Sergeant Mullins. Hello? Oh, Jerry. Now listen here, Gerald North. If you think I'm going to stand for your... What did you say? You are? Sergeant Mullins is coming home. Oh, yes, darling. Oh, please hurry. I've missed you so much. Of course, darling. Oh, wait a minute, Jerry. Did you say something, Sergeant Mullins? Oh, I was just talking to myself. Love ain't blind, I was saying. It's dumb. And so we leave Pam North. What a woman. Another in the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. North. Tonight's presentation in a mystery playhouse. Now for the green room and a quick listen to a part of our next mystery. Hey, my spies tell me this one involves a murder of a radio quiz expert. Sounds like an interesting subject. Well, let's find out for ourselves. Follow me, please. Come. Sit, I want a showdown. Do you want me back? Yes, I do. You're lying. You don't love me. You never did. I like your company, like your looks. I miss you. The way you'd miss an old pair of shoes. You never noticed me till I left you. Could be. Could be. That's just like you. Absolutely shameless. You have no more idea what love is than... For you, it's Charlie Robinson, eh, Joni? A nice, shiny agency boy four years younger than you. Sid, you... Sid, I want a divorce. Please, Sid, this is no good. Be decent, will you? Just thinking of you, Joan, the kid's got nothing but a glossy smile. It wouldn't last a year. That's not true. Sid, will you? No. Your answer to that question is all wrong, Mr. Sherman, because I'm going to have it my way. Yeah, Joan, wait. Hello? Oh, Mr. Sherman, Ellery Queen. I'm not disturbing you. Oh, no, not at all, Queen. Got a minute? I'm not taking away from any guests or anything. No, no, I'm all alone. What's on your mind? The Mock Turtle. Uh, uh, the what? The Mock Turtle in Alice in Wonderland, who sang Soup of the Evening, Beautiful Soup. Oh, oh, oh, yeah. Well, I know Alice practically by heart. We get questions on it every other week. You're wrong, Queen. The Mad Hatter sang that at the tea table. How about looking it up, Mr. Sherman? All right, I will. Hold on a minute. Alice, Alice, where'd I put that book? Oh, here we are. Sherman, Sherman, what's happened? What was that explosion? Sherman, operator, operator, get me police headquarters. And that was the end of Sid Sherman, Chris Expert, extraordinary. A murder that the master detective Ellery Queen accidentally became a part of. The whole story starts when Ellery receives an offer to become a guest expert on a well-known Chris program, but thereby hangs another tale. A murder case that you and our audience invite to solve along with Ellery and his guest detective. So be in your seats next time when we present Ellery Queen and the adventure, the booby trap. This is Peter Laurie closing the doors of the mystery playhouse. Good night. Sleep tight. This is the armed forces radio service.
