The ringing of that phone bell means... ...mystery, adventure. Near O'Wolf's office, Archie Goodwin speaking. You're a... And you've lost your... Oh. Archie, the answer is no. Hold on a second. The answer to what is no, Mr. Wolf? I shall not attempt to find a blonde for anyone. You've got the man on the phone a little wrong, Mr. Wolf. He's not looking for a blonde, he's looking for a prizefighter. Indeed. Have him come here. Okay. Mr. Wolf will see you at eight. So long. I was all set to argue with you about taking the case. You gave in too fast. Nonsense. I am fascinated by the thought of anyone misplacing a prizefighter. They're usually quite large, aren't they? They are. But what this guy is worried about is not only finding his boy... but finding him alive. Ladies and gentlemen, it's the bulkiest, balkiest, smartest... and most unpredictable detective in the world. That chair-born genius, Near O'Wolf. Created by Rick Stodd and brought to you in a new series of adventures... over this NBC network in the person of Mr. Sydney Greenstreet. The case of the deadly sellout, that's what my boss, Near O'Wolf, called it. And it almost meant curtains for the firm of Wolf and Goodwin. But let me give it to you straight right from the beginning. Although you ought to know that it wasn't until it was all over... that I knew the very beginning of it myself. It all started in the New York flat of one Brock Rainey. Yes? The name is Jerry Fay. I'm supposed to know you? Being a very good friend of Papagato's, it's time you got to know me. May I come in? Sure. You've got a problem, Miss Fay? Debbie took a fall at the garden last night against a coffee and bum... named Eubanks, right? As far as I know, Sister Gottham met his match. Please, Mr. Rainey, do me a favor. Skip the sausage meat. It happens I saw the 1,200 bucks you counted out to him... to take a quick dive in the first. You did? How else would I know? Okay, then here's my wrist. Slap it, Miss Fay. I'm a bad boy. Now look, who's kidding who? I don't care if Peppy makes himself a few deals on the side. I should worry whether he gives those meat eaters on the benches... a run for their ducats. What's it to me? If you're not worried, sugar plum, then neither am I. I also am a very busy man. Not too busy to pay off, I hope. Pay off? To who? To me. For what? For keeping it to myself that you collected five grand... from the Eubanks crowd for getting Peppy to take that dive. Certain people might not like to hear it. Miss Fay. Yeah? Drop dead. I don't think we understand each other. Which is just as well. Now get out of here. Say something else. Go, bimbo. Okay, Mr. Rainey, have it your way. I'll go find someone with a more sympathetic ear. Someone like Lawson. Arnold F. Lawson. So long. Wait. Where does Lawson come into this? You ask and it's Stalin. Lawson dropped a sizable piece of change on last night's two-step. No. Close the door, Jerry. Oh, yeah. $25,000 to be exact. That's a lot of corn to lose... because a cheap fight manager arranges a frame. At least Arnold Lawson might think so. Sit down. Who's tired? Look, Mr. Rainey, it goes very simply in only one way. Lawson at yet knows from nothing except that your boy Gatto lost the fight. He may suspect, but he don't know. And he really don't have to know. Glad to hear you say that. And I'll be glad to see the shade of 3,000 long green banknotes. How much? You heard me. Three grand. Get out. Okay. I'm going. To the next phone and call Lawson. Look, Jerry, give me time, huh? I haven't got that kind of dough right now. Tell it to Lawson. When he gets through with you, you won't need any kind of dough. You know, I've got Gatto set for a go with Mellish, the title contender. Gatto can take him. Please believe me, he's gonna take him. So? So after what happened in the U-Banks fight, the odds on Gatto will be like a war debt. We can clean up, we can make a... Listen, Heal, I wouldn't trust you from 11.59 to midnight. Get it up. Now. I'll give you six hours. After that, Lawson. So long. Come on, come on. Hello? Hello. Rainey, this is Gatto. Hiya, baby. Look, the boys dropped in on me at the office at Mindy's. Lawson wants to see me. Lawson? Look, bum, I'm the one with the cauliflower ears. You hide me, and what do I do? Nothing. But... Don't go near him, stay home. Let me take care of it. How? How? What'll you do? I don't know yet, papy, but I'll find a way. How did he find out? Your girlfriend. What? She wouldn't do that. She hates the guy. Hate him or love him, she told him. I can't believe it. I suggest you call our little doll, Jerry, and give her your regards for the double cross. Meanwhile, stay put in your apartment. Don't move. But Rainey... Hello? Hello? ...75... 3... 319... Ah, gee. What on earth are you mumbling about? The high cost of blunt. Indeed. Oh, you can say that again. I have no intention of doing so. Okay, be smug. But there must have been a time even in your life when knickknacks from Tiffany figured on the budget. Not to mention steak dinners and champagne. Or what did you feed your girls? Peppermint lozenges? Nonsense. Nonsense? He preferred lime. Oh, I'm dying and he laughs. Mr. Wolf? Yes? I have decided that you are giving me a raise. Ah, gee, this is not a period in which unilateral decisions are wise. So I'll be a dope and get a raise, huh? As for your future mental attainments, you may be right. As for a raise... You want to drive me to gambling, like betting on fights or going... Okay, it's the doorbell and I'm answering it. The name's Rainey. You're Goodwin? I'm Goodwin. Come in. Is Wolf in? Mr. Wolf is always in. Unlike prize-fighters, I guess. Come on. Thank you. Mr. Wolf, this is Mr. Rainey, the man who lost his prize-fighter. How do you do, sir? I'm not doing so good. Mr. Wolf, you gotta help me. That will depend. On what? The fee. I digress. Your problem is what, Mr. Rainey? Mr. Wolf, I manage a fighter named Gatto. Maybe you've heard of him. I have not. However, that is of little significance. You are having difficulty with this Mr. Gatto? I'm not having difficulty with him. I can't find him. Maybe you'd better let me give you the whole picture. Very well. Well, Gatto is an up-and-coming boy, Mr. Wolf. He had a little upset last week with a guy named Eubanks. But everybody knows in spite of that, Gatto's heading for the big time. I think he'll prove that when he goes against Mellish. Mr. Mellish being another pugilist, huh? That's right, Mr. Wolf. Now, Peppy, that's Gatto. I was due at the turf club this afternoon to meet the opposition management and go over the setup. He was due, but he didn't show. I waited all afternoon, and then I started the phone calls and taxis. The results? No results. I combed every joint I ever knew him to buy a beer in. The score was zero. Matter of fact, nobody's even seen him for four days. You would have tried the gymnasiums, naturally. I did. Does this pugilist have a home? Yeah, 206 A Rathburn Street, a penthouse on the roof. He was not at home during all this time? That's where I tried first. It was empty as a bank on Saturday afternoon. I see. And you want me to find him for you? If Peppy blows this fight, Mr. Wolf, it'll ruin his career. And the preservation of his career is worth a good deal to you? I got a check for two grand right here. Archie? I'll get it. $2,000. Very well, Mr. Rainey. I shall take immediate steps. I got a cab waiting outside. We can get started right away. We? I shall remain here. But how do you expect to... Archie. Yes, Mr. Wolf? You will leave in Mr. Rainey. I need information. You might try the Rathburn Street penthouse to start with. But I've already been there. Lord, your apologies, Mr. Rainey. Suppose you restrict your activities to pugilists. Archie is a trained observer. You are not. Archie, you will pick up whatever you can at Garter's apartment. I especially suggest a careful check on his wardrobe. Wardrobe? If his clothes are missing, Mr. Rainey, it would indicate that he left voluntarily and deliberately. For whatever reasons he may have had. If they are not, Archie, you will phone me from the apartment after your investigation is over. Okay. I shall in the meantime devote some thought to the subject. For two grand, all you're going to do is devote some thought? Mr. Rainey, if I were not a modest man, I would point out to you that you're getting quite a... a bargain. Got all? Got all? He's not here, I told you that. I was up here before. He left the door unlocked? I had a key, I guess I forgot to lock up after I left. Now let's look around. Bathroom? Yeah. Empty. It's a nice penthouse. Is that a closet? Yeah. What do you think, he's playing hide and seek? Try it. Okay. Anything in there? Nothing I'm looking for. What's that you found? A hat. Well, let's see. A lady's hat. Yeah, smart and expensive. Label reads a madam yet original. That bunch of lace and feathers cost somebody a fast half a hundred. Probably one of those girls left it behind. And maybe she'll call for it. Come on, we'll take a gander out on the roof. I took a gander out there. It's bare as a bone. Uh-uh. What have we got over there with the chimney? Where? Over there. Just an old awning. Got blown down in the storm last month. Be right with you. What are you doing? Looking under it. Oh, brother. You... you found him. Yeah, we found him, chum. A little late. Two holes in his dorsal development and dead as a clay pigeon. Yeah. Well, what have you got to say? Well, now at least the bookies will cancel all bets. We both save our dough. Yeah. I gotta phone Mr. Wolf. I gotta phone Mr. Wolf. And there he was, Mr. Wolf, under the old canvas awning. Hmm. Where's the hat? Oh, this is it. Mm-hmm. That's it, boss. Snassy number, no? Where'd you find it? On the floor of the closet. You're right, Archie. Frothy little bit of millinery caprice. Mm-hmm. Have you any idea whose it may be, Mr. Rainey? I wish I did. You'll have to find out. Well, how, boss? The hat isn't original. See, the label under the band reads, the Madame Yetta original. Tomorrow morning, Archie, you will interview Madame Yetta. Yes, boss. And discover in your inimitable fashion for whom she made this chapeau. Hello? Archie again, Mr. Wolf. Per your instructions, I have just talked to Madame Yetta. What did you learn? Madame Yetta tells me she made that hat for a Mrs. Lawson. Who is Mrs. Lawson? The wife of an ex-beer hustler who's in the chips and puts on airs. Lives in a penthouse of the Bradford Arms. I was just about to hop a cab and go up there, boss. Good. Keep this up, Archie. And through sheer practice, you may yet develop your full-blown intelligence. Well, I'm trying, Mr. Wolf. And after the Lawsons, I do what? Return here immediately and hurry. How do you do, Mr. Lawson? Oh, Mr. Goodwin. My secretary tells me you're a detective. My boss might argue with you on that, Mr. Lawson. Your boss? It happens I work for Nero Wolf. I see. And you wish to see me about... About this hat. Hat? Oh, I see. Mr. Goodwin, please believe me, I never wear hats like that. Would your wife be likely to say the same? My wife? Just what are you getting at? Would I seem too nosy if I asked how well you and your wife know Pepe Gatto? How well do we know who? Pepe Gatto. The pug? No, no, not such a pug. No, huh? I lost 25,000 on him in the U-bags fight. He asked me, he laid down like a dog. And did you talk it over with him? Talk it over with him? Never seen the man in my life. Not even at the fight? No, I placed the bet over the telephone. That scarcely have anything to do with a character like Gatto, Mr. Goodwin. You surely won't from here on out, Mr. Lawson. What do you mean? Gatto is dead. You don't say? He was murdered last night. Murdered? And what would you say, Mr. Lawson, if I told you that this hat is your wife's and that it was found in a closet in Gatto's apartment? Now wait a minute, let me get this straight. Are you implying... Not implying. Facts are sticking out. What time was this dumb brute done away with? Oh, I'd said it at somewhere between 5 and 7 p.m. last night. You said it very conveniently, thanks. Why? My wife and I drove out of the city at 4.30 yesterday afternoon. Didn't get back until 2 this morning. And this hat? It took wings and flew into Gatto's closet? Is that the answer? No, that's not the answer. Then what is? This is. A month and a half ago, I was with Celia on a bus stop. She was wearing that hat and the wind blew it off her head. I see. And from there we figured that somebody picked it up and it finally wound up at Gatto's. You can figure anything you please. Personally, I don't feel in any way obligated to figure anything. Darling, I was just on my way out and... Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were busy. Yes, I am busy, Celia. Wait a minute. He's not all that busy. Run along now, dear. You'll be late. But I want to talk to you. Run along, Celia. Yes, darling. Sorry. I'll see you later. Beautiful. Really beautiful. I've always thought so, Goodwin. You didn't give me much of a chance to talk to her, did you, Lorsen? If I didn't, it's for your own good. My good? I don't get it. Celia's a sensitive person and I won't have her bothered. And you mean to tell me you let him scare you? Let him scare me? Say, will you stop being so fearless with my life? The guy said don't bother my wife, so I didn't bother his wife. It was that simple. Apparently his wife was not blonde. Answer the phone, Archie. No, you answer it. Now you've hurt my feelings. Oh, well. Hello? I want to speak to Mr. Nero Wolfe. Mr. Wolfe speaking. Oh? Is it true that you're interested in the Gatto murder? Who are you and how do you know he's been murdered? The second question is none of your business. And as for the first, call me Jerry. J-E-R-I. How do you do, Jerry? J-E-R-I. What do you call? Would you like to come to an auction? An auction? You know, going, going, gone to the highest bidder. And what are you placing on the auction block, Miss Jerry? A few facts. All in good condition and guaranteed to make it a cinch to snag the Gatto killer. Sounds promising. Only you'll have to bid against real money. May I have the address of the auction room? You'll have no trouble finding it. Your assistant was there last night. Where? The penthouse on top of 206A Rathburn Street. The big item goes on at four bells. Yeah? Who is it? Man named Wolfe sent me. Just a sec. You're Jerry, huh? I was expecting the man named Wolfe. Unfortunately for me, honey, when he's expected, I usually show up. Come on in. You? See, I'm the legs of the combination. He's the brains. It makes a nice division of labor. I see. You came in plenty of time. On the nose is our custom. Where are the rest of the bidders? Any second now. Mm-hmm. How many besides me are coming? One. Small auction. But big action. How'd you happen to decide on this? I knew Gatto pretty good. And you were fond of him pretty good, huh? How did you guess? Well, you've got a key to this place of his, or you couldn't let yourself in. It adds, no? Gee, you should have been a detective. Just what I keep telling Mr. Wolfe. Look, tell me, Jerry, darling, this other person who was coming to the auction, who? The killer. You don't say. You sure the killer isn't here already? Look, I didn't kill him. Oh. The story you would like me to believe is that you witnessed the killing, huh? Called the killer and Mr. Wolfe and said, come on, kids, you can get me either to talk or shut up, depending on who pays the most, isn't it? Something like that. Mm-hmm. Okay. Prove you know what you're talking about. Who is the killer? Is it Block Rainey? Should also have your head examined, pretty boy. I talk for Doe and only for Doe. Not that I'm mercenary or anything, but... Okay. Okay, tell me this. How come you saw the killer in the act? Simple. I was here with Gatto. Called me to come see him. While I was here, the shot came through the window there from the roof. You know something, sweetheart? What? I can't understand how a girl like you, a pretty nice girl under all that paint and powder and Broadway shellac, how you could do a thing like this. You were in love with Gatto. I know that everybody does. And still you're willing to keep your mouth shut if the killer pays enough. How come? Hmm? What's the matter, honey? Did I hit a tender spot? I... I don't think you understand. Sure, I was in love with the goof. Then along comes this other dame. She's rich and beautiful and she has everything to give him. Ooh, do I know her? Of course you do. She... Oh! Jerry! Oh! Jerry. She was just about to tell me and then the shot came through the window from the roof, boss. It's a flat roof outside. You didn't, I suppose, see the murderer. No. I caught Jerry in my arms by the time I laid her down on the couch and got out on the roof, the killer was gone. Get right over here and bring our client with you. If you can find him. Rainey? That's right. He has a right to be in on the kill. Okay, boss. But keep away from that guy. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. I'll be right back. Don't be impertinent. I should be busy phoning Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. Meanwhile, I want them here, too. Besides, one bottle won't do any harm. Ah, there they are, at the Menarche. You remain seated, Mr. Rainey. Okay, Mr. Wolf. Well, come in, Mr. Lawson. Come in. Mr. Wolf here? He's here. Nice of you to come. Anything to help the law. Ah, Mr. Lawson. Your wife didn't come. No, Mr. Wolf, she was out when you called. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I left for her with the butler, however. Mr. Lawson, about 20 minutes ago, a girl named Jerry Faye was killed. So? She was killed in your neighborhood, in a flat formerly occupied by one Pepe Gatto. Where would that be? Maybe your wife knows where the flat would be. How dare you, sir? No histrionics, please. Where was your wife when the girl was killed? I'm advising you that if there is an alibi, now's the time to state it. I wouldn't humiliate Celia by alibying for her. Then the police will pick her up. But she didn't kill this girl, Mr. Wolf. You have reasons for that opinion? The best of reasons. I'd be grateful if you'd state them, and then maybe the judge of their excellence. One should do. This one. Celia's out in the country visiting her mother. No. Does that settle it? Possibly. What's her mother's telephone number? Why, uh... Merely a routine check. Well, can't you take my word? I'll take her mother's number. Well, Mr. Lawson? I'm sorry. I... I hoped you'd buy this story. What do you mean? Her mother's been dead for 10 years. I see. Well, I don't. What's the idea? It's known as marital devotion, Archie. I suppose you realize, Mr. Lawson, that in shielding your wife, you're aiding and abetting a murderess. I... I haven't stopped to realize anything. When Goodwin brought me that hat, I didn't know what to say. Well, you pitched me a curve then, too. Well, I suppose you might call it that, but... And she didn't lose the chapeau off a bus stop. No, but you've got to understand. Celia's the dearest thing in life to me. Yeah, so's a lady rattlesnake to its husband. I suggest that it's time for you to be objective in this matter, Mr. Lawson. What do you want to know? Tell us where she can be found. I... I have no idea. When is she expected to return home? Never. Huh? You see, we... we had an argument. I doubt that I'll ever see her again. Then we are quite on our own, Archie. To do what? Make a journey to Goddow's apartment. Goddow's apartment? She probably has a key to that popular abode. But she wouldn't go there, boss. On the contrary, I am of the opinion that that's just where she would go. Give me my hand. Don't tell me you're going to stir yourself. Ah, it's a most unpleasant necessity, Archie. But the lady in question is dangerous and not at all hesitant about indiscriminate gunplay. Get out the car, Archie. We'll make the journey to Rathbun Street penthouse... with the hope that Celia Lawson will show up in time to mourn her lost love. Uh, uh, you want me to go along with you too, Mr. Wolfe? Yes, indeed, Mr. Rainey, I do. I trust this chair will hold me. Should. Biggest chair in the house. Mr. Wolfe. Yes, Mr. Rainey? Mr. Wolfe, am I to understand that the way you have it figured is that Mrs. Lawson killed Goddow... and then to keep the girl from pinning the crime on her, she killed her too? What's the matter, Mr. Rainey, don't you think the theory holds water? Well, yes, I mean, of course it does. Hmm, thank you. On the other hand, there is room for doubt. I'm glad to hear you say that, Mr. Wolfe. Would you mind explaining? I'll explain, Mr. Lawson. Mr. Goodwin was in this room when Jerry Faye was killed, right, Archie? Right, boss. He ran as quickly as he could out onto the roof, but your wife was nowhere in evidence. What difference does that make? Good deal, I'd say. Wouldn't you, Archie? Yes, a detail like that would give a jury room for doubt. Oh, don't be a fool. How so, Rainey? I was about to agree with Rainey. I mean on sheer logic. I'm afraid I miss your point, Mr. Lawson. What if Goodwin didn't see her? That proves nothing. She fired the shots and then she ran down the fire escape. What fire escape? The one a few feet beyond the chimney. Mr. Lawson. Yes? Who told you there was a fire escape there? Why, yeah, yeah, who did? You can't see it from here, Lawson. Well, I just imagine there might be. Sensationally accurate imagination, Mr. Lawson. Allow me to congratulate you. I don't know what you have in mind. You have in mind to see your wife convicted of the murder of Pepe Gatto. And so punish them both for having dared to fall in love. I love Celia. I worship her. Yes, that's what you expected me to believe. Hoping, meanwhile, that her hat would convict her. You worshiped her until she became fascinated by a young, savage animal known as Pepe Gatto. No. At that point, the worship shifted into reverse, and you went green with hate. Hate that drove you to climb that fire escape that you know so much about, and shoot him in the back. You're dreaming. Jerry Faye saw you in the act, and when she was about to divulge your identity to Archie, you killed her too. Meaning to hang her murder on your wife along with the other killing. That's a lie. Mr. Lawson, I didn't bring you here to apprehend your wife. There's really no reason why she should come here. I suggested this visit in the belief that you'd betray some guilty knowledge of the place and circumstances, as you have so obligingly just done. You're clever, aren't you? Monumental. But a little hasty. So, why? There's a gun in my hand. Haven't you noticed? Of course, sir, but yours is not the only gun in the world. What? It's still Arnold. And don't turn her off. Your wife, Mr. Lawson. Come in, my dear. Celia, what are you doing here? I came to get a hat that I'd left in Pepe's closet. It suddenly was clear to me what was in the wind, and I thought I'd better remove all evidence that you could possibly use against me. Celia, listen, you must understand it for you... I understand one thing only. Pepe's gone. And you took him away. Listen, please, if you let me explain, you'll understand. Yeah. Please, honey, help me. Sure, I'll help you. Oh! Celia! Well, that's all, Mr. Wolf. What now? Ah, gee! Why is it when you drive it always gets so crowded outside? Will it go tough on her, boss? Why not? She killed a man in cold blood. Though she actually saved our lives while doing so. I hope that helps her at the trial. I hope so, Archie. After all, if she hadn't done what she did, what would have happened to the lobster bisque? What lobster bisque? The lobster bisque that Fritz is making for dinner. Howdy, Archie. It really can't be appreciated unless it's eaten hot. You have been listening to The New Adventures of Nero Wolf, starring Sidney Greenstreet. Tonight's transcribed story was based on the characters created by Rex Stout. This is an Edwin Fadiman program, produced and directed by J. Donald Wilson. In the cast were Larry Dobkin as Archie Goodwin, and Anne Diamond, Charlotte Lawrence, Gerald Moore, Don Diamond, and Eddie Fields. Next week at this same time, Nero Wolf and Archie will bring you The Case of the Killer Card. Don Stanley speaking. Three chimes mean good times on NBC. Saturday night is date night, and NBC has a lively lineup of music and fun to help your courtin' along. Tomorrow, Dennis Day brings you a melodic and mirthful 30 minutes, and then Judy Canova gets together with her gang for a sparkling session of mountain style song and laughter, followed by singing MC Red Foley and his friends on that exciting parcel of western tunes and mayhem Grand Ole Opry. Here's Sam Spade. Three chimes mean good times on NBC.
