Stay tuned for Nero Wolf, transcribed in 30 seconds. Tomorrow, you're invited to a one-hour concert by the renowned NBC Symphony. The orchestra will be under the direction of Bruno Walter for tomorrow's performance, and celebrated violinist Joseph Zagetti will be featured soloist. Selections for tomorrow include the overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, and the same composer's brilliant concerto for violin and orchestra. You're invited every Saturday to a concert by the NBC Symphony. Ladies and gentlemen, the ringing of that phone bell brings you mystery, adventure. Nero Wolf's office, Archie Goodwin speaking. Who? Mr. Hal Horton, United Industries? Oh, I see. Well, I must warn you, Mr. Horton, Mr. Wolf doesn't take kindly to big industrialists. Says their great wealth upsets his digestion. Why do you want to see him? The connection's bad. I don't hear... Who? Who? Mr. Horton, who... We're cut off. What is it, Mr. Goodwin? Mr. Hal Horton called. I understand that. I won't see him. Tell him what money I have to invest I put into orchid plants. Mr. Horton wasn't promoting anything. And what did he call you for? The great Horton needs a detective. Maybe just my occupational reflex, but I thought he said somebody had been murdered. Ladies and gentlemen, it's that genius who is the bulkiest, bulkiest, most ponderous and most brilliant detective in the world. Yes, none other than that chair-born mass of unpredictable intellect, Nero Wolf, created by Rex Stout, and brought to you in a new series of adventures over this NBC network in the person of Mr. Sidney Greenstreet. It turned out that what Horton had said had been murder, which became celebrated in the case of the malevolent man, the malevolent medic. But its solution wasn't a simple matter of following up his accusation. It had false clues mixed all through it like raisins in a pudding. The man we came to know as the malevolent medic was young Dr. Benjamin Sloan. The case began on the sunny afternoon when Grace Banks, his nurse, came into his private office. Waiting room's finally empty, I take it. There's one more patient, darling. I'm sorry, doctor. Mrs. Horton's here for another of the thiamine chloride shots you ordered for. I said you could give her those, Grace. She doesn't have to wait to see me. Oh, she's hung up her mink coat, parked her orchid in her alligator bag, and filled up all the ashtrays with lipstick cigarette stubs. Mrs. Horton prefers to wait for you. She seems very upset. I hoped she'd get hold of herself. Mrs. Hal Horton, with all that money. Whatever gives us such jitters? Darling, if I ever get in that condition after we're married, please shoot me. I've advised her to go to a specialist. Hers isn't a true medical case. Well, I'll do what I can. Get a needle ready, will you, Grace, and show Mrs. Horton in. Yes, darling. I mean doctor. Mrs. Horton, will you step in now? Been in that waiting room for hours. Ben, I wrote you every day this week. Why didn't you answer me? You say your health hasn't improved, Lester. I'm worse, much worse. Still chain smoking, drinking, and the sleeping pills. I have to take something. I can't walk the floor all night, can I? Thinking, thinking. Why are you so unhappy, Leslie? You have what you always said you wanted, money, clothes, excitement. You have the right to say that. But don't, please don't. I'm only pointing out facts you should face. I told you from the beginning you need a nerve specialist. I need you. Nobody else can help me at all. Leslie, you went over this the last time you were here, and in all those letters you've been sending. Now, let's cross it off for good, shall we? Don't talk like that. You don't mean it. I'm no longer a lovesick dope, and you're the wife of one of the biggest industrialists in the country. Yes, Hal Hawton, I despise him. He thinks his money makes him God. He thinks he can buy anything that he bought me. He made me think I was getting the world with a fence around it. Everything I want is on the other side of that fence. You don't know what you do want. I want us the way we used to be, happy and loved together. Leslie, please be quiet. Why? Miss Banks is in the laboratory. She can hear you. What of it? I'm not ashamed. I'll tell her. I'll tell everybody. Imagine Hal's face when he finds out I'm leaving him. But I'm coming back to you. He already knows about you. I told him you were in love with me, that you're jealous. He doesn't like it. Leslie, you're raving. Now stop it. You always said I was the most attractive woman in the world. You made your choice. Now get this into your head. I'm really in love now. In a few weeks I'm going to be married. Now I'll get your medicine. So it's really true. You are going to be married. Yes. I heard it but I didn't believe it. Going to marry a nurse. All my friends have known and been laughing at me. Please, now that's enough. I made a plan, a wonderful, beautiful plan about us. Ben, you love me. Ben, say you love me. Mrs. Horton, that is all over. You don't love me. No longer. You're here as my patient and that's all. After this treatment I must ask you to get another doctor. A wonderful, beautiful plan for us. And now she threatens to step in and spoil it. Well, maybe I'll spoil a few plans. How would you like that? Threats will accomplish nothing. I can ruin things for you, Ben. All those fancy ideas of yours about having a fine practice, being a great doctor. Do you want to give those up? I can arrange it so that maybe there won't be any wonderful future for you. Are you prepared to face that possibility? Because I'm prepared to make it a reality. And I mean it. You'll regret this day as long as you live. I'll get your medicine, Mrs. Horton. Hand me my bag. Thank you. Oh, I hate you, Ben. I hate you, Ben. I hate you both. Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mrs. Horton. Miss Banks had to do a repair job before she could use the sterilizer. Alcohol, Miss Banks? Yes, Dr. Sloan. Now, Mrs. Horton, may I help? Thanks. So nice of you. There. Right side for the hypo this time, isn't it? Just touch with this cotton. Ready now, Doctor. Oh, I... What's the matter, Mrs. Horton? I'm just cold. Alcohol. After this, I advise you to go home and rest. These massive doses are a little painful, but they give results. There. That's all. Just relax here and you can leave in ten minutes. Come, Miss Banks, I want to talk to you. Doctor! Doctor! Doctor! I... I feel sick. I feel very sick. You might as well stop acting. I can't get up. My feet! Ben, look at her. Something's happened. Hysteria. No, her face. Oh, Ben, she's falling. Mrs. Horton, hold on to me. I've got you. Hold her up. Leslie, what is it? Pain. Terrible pain. Where? What from? Sick everywhere. Pain, everything. Pain. Pain in my head. Pain in my feet. My feet. My feet. Doctor, she... She's dead. Yes, Grace. Get a card from the files. I want to study it. From the first day Mrs. Horton came here. What was it, Ben? What happened to her? Symptoms are of a hard condition from which it seems the patient has just expired. Then you must call her husband. Grace, did you hear me? Yes, Dr. Sloan. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to tell you a story. Well, I discourage your visit here, Mr. Horton. I do have a sort of curiosity about the operation of so-called big business. Maybe I'll have a glass of beer and hear an explanation of the rise and fall of this morning's stock market. You don't think I've come here socially? I wish to engage your services, but... Not available. You're a detective, aren't you? Specializing in cases that interest me. Sherry, Mr. Horton. I don't need it, thank you. But Mr. Wolfe says he specializes in cases that interest me. I've just gone to the hospital. I haven't told him a story. I don't believe you even know who I am. Oh, yes, we do. We do indeed. A millionaire. Did I offend you by speaking of a fee? No, on the contrary. It is that portion of your conversation which interested me most. Frankly, I planned to spend the evening examining the first edition of Henry James. I'd like to purchase, and the word fee suggests it a possible way. Now, what have you done, sir? What have I done? One doesn't have to be a detective to recognize you're in trouble, Mr. Horton. Look, Mr. Wolfe, I have done nothing. But I've got a question I've got to have answered. I need facts. They tell me you're the man who can give them to me. If near-all Wolfe can't get them for you, they're not facts. They're fancies, Mr. Horton. My story's involved. But the gist of it is, your beautiful wife, a former model, died last week. The death certificate indicated a heart attack. You suggest he was murdered. How did you know? Never mind how I came to my conclusions, how did you come to yours? Leslie had been going to a doctor based in New York, and she had been going to a Dr. Benjamin Sloan. She said he was a specialist. Some friend had recommended. She'd been upset. He was giving her vitamin B shots, she told me. You doubt that was true. Dr. Sloan informed me after she died in his office, there'd been a heart condition from the beginning. Well, I don't believe it. Leslie was a very emotional girl. She'd have been quite frightened of a heart ailment. She'd have told me about it. Maybe she didn't comprehend its seriousness. Dr. Sloan did. Why didn't he get in touch with me at once about it? Well, when I went to clear up Leslie's room, I discovered something. Leslie didn't go to Sloan through a friend. She'd known him when she was a model and he was a hospital intern. She'd kept letters he'd written to her then. Love letters. Me? Doesn't that give you an idea, Mr. Wolf? Sloan lost Leslie to me. No man who'd been in love with Leslie would ever get over it. Would a man be jealous enough to kill a woman he loved rather than have her belong to another man? An interesting theory, Mr. Hardin, one frequently advanced in fiction. Shall we investigate and see how it works out in fact? You'll take the case, then. The intricacies of the feminine nature are challenging if you do not have to come in contact with the creatures. The practical research in such matters, I leave to Mr. Goodwin here. It is the field in which he specializes. But it's you I want. Our method of operation is not under your control, Mr. Hardin. You'll be so kind, Archie, that we get a first-hand report of Dr. Benjamin Sloan and the women in his life. Just came to ask a few routine questions, Dr. Sloan. I don't understand your interest in the Hardin case, Mr. Goodwin, is it? That's right. The death certificate was signed and a report made to the medical inspector. Detectives are a snoopy lot. Detectives? Are you from the police department? No, I'm employed to note some details before we close up the Leslie Hardin estate. Sudden deaths have to be double-checked. I'm afraid I can't add a thing to what I've already reported. Well, thanks for seeing me anyhow. It's been a pleasant visit. Ever have a patient die in your office before, Dr. Sloan? No, but I've seen similar cases in the hospital, of course. Was Mrs. Hardin warned about her heart condition, Dr. Sloan? I discussed her case with her fully and frankly. And her husband? Wasn't Mr. Hardin alarmed? He didn't know. Mrs. Hardin's ailment was, well, not to bore a layman with medical details, was not a fatal one necessarily. She might have gone on for years. Just played in bad luck, huh? The worst. When'd you first meet her? Several weeks ago. And you saw her how many times? It's all on the record. She was nervous. I prescribed thiamine chloride. Her medical report card shows that. You read it for yourself. Well, I guess that's all, Dr. Sloan. Won't bother you further. Miss Banks will show you out. Yes, Dr. Sloan? Sort of a modern Aladdin arrangement, isn't it? Wish I could press a buzzer and have a beautiful girl like you appear. Mr. Goodwin is leaving. This way, Mr. Goodwin. You can use the side door. The waiting room's full of patients. So long, Doctor. This way, through the lab. There's a door from in into the corridor. Cozy place, all those bottles. I suppose there's enough stuff in here to kill an army. To cure one. Miss Banks, may I say that you're the kind of a nurse that patients dream about, make it a pleasure to go to a hospital? Blonde hair, blue eyes, winkers, an inch long. Are they real? If you'll excuse me. Who do I have to come down with to persuade you to take care of me? I don't take cases. I'm a technician. Good day, Miss Banks. So you work just for Dr. Sloan. That's too bad the ways involved in this Horton case look serious. Mrs. Horton simply died of a heart attack in Dr. Sloan's office. If you wanted to help your boss, Miss Banks, you'd stop rushing around and answer a few questions. I'm sure Dr. Sloan gave you the necessary information. I guess he doesn't realize the trouble he's in. If you can supply any details that'll change the picture, you'll be doing him a great favor. He's a nice guy. I want to help. What is there to say? The reporter... Let's get it in your own words. Just what really happened here that day? Well, Dr. Sloan gave Mrs. Horton the vitamin B shot. That was routine. But she didn't get up afterward. She said she was sick. And then she fell and I caught her. And Dr. Sloan administered emergency treatment. What did that consist of, Miss Banks? All that is in the office record. What would bring on such an attack? It could have been several things. Could it have been something she ate? Acute indigestion affects the heart. Maybe Mrs. Horton would be here now if the doctor thought to use a stomach pump. He did use one. He did everything there was time to do. She certainly went in a hurry. Suffer a lot? She said she was in pain. Where? Her stomach? No, not her stomach. Where then? She seemed to be in pain all over. Reflex, maybe? When it was over, what did you do, Miss Banks? Called Mr. Horton. Must have been a blow to the great man. I understand she was younger than he is and quite a sultry gal. I've talked to you professionally because you said it was necessary to help Dr. Sloan. Is that all, Mr. Goodwin? I guess it is for now. Unless you'll have dinner with me. Thank you, no. I'm handsome, hardworking and harmless. I'll bring you references from my employer. What do you say? The express elevator is the one on the right. Must be there's another man. Wouldn't be the doctor, would it? Well, you'll fit better in a Pullman kitchen than here among the test tubes at that. My reluctant congratulations. A verdict, Archie? Innocent as lambs, both Sloan and the nurse. Evidence to prove it? My unfailing sensibilities, not the murderer type. Nice couple, doctor and the nurse. I suspect they're engaged. She's so much in love with him, I could have been you and she wouldn't have known the difference. Very flashy. Records? The usual medical record, Mrs. Horton's first visit, symptoms, subsequent visits. Here are the notes on it. Hmm. Vitamin B shots. No chance they brought this on her. Dr. Sloan says absolutely not. I checked that with other doctors. But Mrs. Horton did go into this right after the hypo. Nurse's story jives with Sloan? A little more detailed. She says he did everything, even used a stomach pump. The woman was in pain? What's this? Head to feet? My way of saying pain all over. What other papers did you examine? Only the medical record. Get back to Sloan's office late tonight and examine all the papers in his desk. Can't you trust me? I tell you, there's no reason even to suspect these two. When you have one of your adolescent's infatuations on, blood dripping from a dagger in a girl's hand would look to you like crushed rose petals. With this grace bangs out of the way, maybe you can recognize evidence. Sounds like a long, bleak evening. Hand me that medical book and then be on your way. I want to think. Well, good evening, Mr. Goodwin. Oh, good evening, Dr. Sloan. This is a surprise to us both. I didn't anticipate that you'd be keeping office hours after midnight. What are you doing in my office at 2 o'clock in the morning, Mr. Goodwin? Reading your mail and having a ghoulish time surrounded by all these shiny instruments of yours. You've been rifling my desk. I wouldn't do that if I were you. I put things back very neatly. Even the letters from this little secret compartment, which isn't secret at all to anybody who knows about desks. I kept only one. Give me that letter. Easy. It's the, my darling, mine first shan't ever give you up one way or another one. You remember? I'll bet that nice little nurse you're engaged to never wrote that, did she? What do you intend to do with it? Market exhibit A in the Horton murder case. Maybe you'd like to come with me and explain it to Nero Wolfe. Very moving, very flattering, very interesting if you like women. But also very incriminating, Dr. Sloan. What does it prove, a silly woman with a nervous breakdown? Imagine she was infatuated with me. A woman who is now dead, you must remember, under, shall we say, unusual circumstances. You signed a death certificate which stated Mrs. Horton died of a heart attack. As you signed it, Dr. Sloan, did you remember she had threatened you and he was sigh of relief that fate had done you such a good turn? I didn't bear, Leslie, any ill will. I was sorry for her. You felt adequate to the situation. You called another doctor, though there are several in your building. My first thought, of course, was that it was some extraordinary allergic reaction to the vitamin dose. It was not until an hour or two after the murder, not until an hour or two after she was dead, you decided she expired from a heart attack. Yes. How did you explain the pain? I reported no pain. Mrs. Banks said Mrs. Horton had pain from her head to her feet. Grace said that? Not in those words, but that was the general idea. Dr. Sloan, why did you use a stomach pump on a heart case? Why, I told you I tried everything, sometimes an acute digestive disturbance. I suggest you did it because to you, as to any qualified physician, the pain in the feet suggested poisoning, a particular kind of poison, an inorganic poison. There wasn't any in her stomach. You maintain that? Archie, get the medical examiner on the phone. Tell him the body of Miss Hal Horton must be examined for any evidence of poisoning. I know you think Mrs. Horton was murdered, but it's impossible. There'd been no one near her. Miss Banks. Miss Banks couldn't have done it. She was working with me constantly. That's what I thought you'd say, Dr. Sloan. Mr. Wolf, I had to see you. This is the most dreadful thing I've ever heard of, trying to accuse Dr. Sloan of murdering a patient. It appears he had a reason to want Mrs. Horton dead, Miss Banks. She was that thing the poets write about, a woman scorned. She had sent him this hysterical letter threatening scandal and if he rejected her, he couldn't control her. She kept coming back to his office, making scenes. He gave her nothing but thiamine chloride. I'd know. I'd fix the shop myself. Don't start covering for her. I'm not. I tell you, I'd fill the needle. And I didn't put anything but thiamine chloride in it. You haven't any reason to think anybody did, except for that letter you stole. If it wasn't for that letter, give it to me. Give it to me. Come on, Archie, quick. Drop it, baby. Come away from that fireplace. What? Why, you little tiger kitten. I didn't think you had it in you. Come on, let go of it. No, no. Let go. Give it to Papa. Now, look what you did. You almost got Nero Wolf out of his chair. Destroying evidence is a serious offence, young woman. She kept coming to the office writing and pestering him. I heard her from the laboratory. You read her letters too, didn't you? You knew if something didn't stop her, Dr. Benjamin Sloan was a ruined man. But he didn't kill her. I know he didn't. I don't believe he did. You... You don't? Well, then who? You've just provided an excellent motive for having done it yourself, Miss Banks. Pears and white wine. Cold, luscious, exotic. Excellent, Fritz, excellent. The best thing that's happened today. I don't like this Sloan case. If you ask me, I think that Horton Dengawa was coming to her. Those are not the words of abstract justice, nor the phrases of a gentleman of culture. A good detective never plays favorites. Good night's rest and you will find your attitude more normal by morning. You expect to have this case solved by morning? It's solved now. Thanks to the expedition I sent you on this afternoon. The arrest can wait. No one will escape. I feel like a murderer myself. If I hadn't wormed it out of grace about the Horton woman complaining of pain and if you hadn't jumped at the word feet, That Archie, my dear fellow, is the purpose for which you exist, to discover pertinent facts. Have we quite finished? Coffee in the study then. Here's the door, I'll go. Mr. Wolfin. He isn't seeing anyone this evening, Mr. Horton. Well, he's seeing me. Archie, if that's Mr. Horton, I'll see him. You'd better. Sorry you found Mr. Goodman so impossible, Mr. Horton. He came to pay you a call this afternoon. I sent him, but he didn't find you in, did you, Archie? No, but I made myself at home. I knew anything that would help to solve this case you'd want us to have. What do you mean? You were in my house? What did you take? Nothing of monetary value, I assure you, that will not be returned in due course. But before I announce the solution of a case, I like to have all my little props in place. I appreciate a well-rounded performance. Mr. Wolfe, I've had enough of this foolishness, this delay. I hired you to convict Sloan not to play parlor games. You must be patient, Mr. Horton. Don't force me. I want action. Well, I had planned to wait until the morning, but if you insist. These papers here may interest you, Mr. Horton. Mr. Goodwin here collects them, your wife's letters. Lesley's? You recognize the script? These are addressed to Dr. Sloan. Do they prove anything against him? A lady's correspondence should be kept private. This other letter, however, was sent to you. To me? Lesley's? What? Give it to me. Izzy Horton, Izzy, don't grab. But that letter's mine. You stole it from my desk. There is a point in a case, Mr. Horton, where letters cease to be personal property and become evidence. What evidence can that letter provide? It seems you had reason for wanting to kill your wife, Mr. Horton. A man can get annoyed by a note saying his wife never loved him, that all his money isn't enough, and that she's going to another man. You accusing me of murder? It could have been the perfect crime. Poisoning one of those pills she was forever taking, or on the tip of the cigarette she chain-smoked, and a doctor's office to die in. If you hadn't been fool enough to try to pin it on Sloan, you might have gotten away with it. If I had known while she was alive what Lesley was, I might have done anything. But that letter you stole from me was one she left under my pillow. I didn't find it until after she was dead. I didn't kill her. Sloan did. You hired me to prove that, Mr. Horton. Suppose you'd let me go about my business. Nero Wolf's office. Yeah? Oh, you're dead? Good boy. We'll expect you. I'll tell Mr. Wolf at once. Medical examiner's officer, just as you thought, they found poison in the body. Listen to me. Inspector Kramer's picking up Dr. Sloan and Grace. They'll be here any minute. Kramer's set to make an arrest. I told you. The police know it's Sloan. Put the letters and Mrs. Horton's bag on my desk, Archie. Lesley's alligator bag? You stole that from my house this afternoon, too. Those things are mine. Inspector Kramer will want to take them with him. What, you think I want it made public what Lesley did to me? Kramer can't have them. Maybe the inspector will want to take you, too, Mr. Horton. Lesley, me and Archie. Come in, Inspector Kramer. Dr. Sloan, Miss Banks. Wolf asked me to bring them here first before I locked anybody up. Mrs. Horton was murdered, all right. I'm sending a man for Horton, too. You won't have to. Mr. Horton's waiting here to join the party. Come in to Mr. Wolf's office. Good evening, Inspector. Good evening, Wolf. Will you all please arrange yourselves around the room as I indicate? Miss Banks here. Dr. Sloan, Mr. Horton. Archie, you stand between the two men, if you please. Mr. Wolf, this is a dreadful mistake. I swear the doctor didn't... Stop thinking about the doctor. What about you? If you're accusing Miss Banks, I might as well tell you now... Oh, Dr. Sloan, from here on, anything you say will be held against you. That's what I want. Let Grace go home and I'll... For heaven's sake, why don't you arrest the man? Isn't it obvious he's guilty? You and your trumped-up charges against me. I'll do the talking now, Mr. Horton. Mrs. Horton died from a certain inorganic poisoning. Poison administered in your office, Dr. Sloan, with a hypo syringe. Let's get it over with. I gave her the hypo. But I filled the needle. There you are. They're both guilty. We should solve the case if they weren't lying. Miss Banks believes Dr. Sloan killed Leslie for her sake. Dr. Sloan thinks Miss Banks put poison in the hypo... to save him from professional ruin. They're trying to protect each other. The fact is the hypo they gave was perfectly harmless. It did not kill Mrs. Horton. Then what did? Mrs. Horton came to your office in desperation, Dr. Sloan. But she came prepared for the worst. You see this handbag? Can any of you identify it? Yes. It's hers. Is it Mr. Horton? It's Leslie's. The bag she carried to the office the day she died. Open it, Archie. You will see it contains her changed birth, her birth certificate... it contains her changed births, billfolds, cigarette case, matches... her handkerchief, nothing more. That is, not unless you look closely. Then you will observe this lining has a double fold. A secret compartment. Exactly. We open it this way. And there we find it. A hypodermic needle with which the unhappy woman committed suicide. Miss Banks, Dr. Sloan, you can stop protecting one another. Mr. Horton, the world need never know you were a betrayed husband. Mrs. Horton killed herself while in a confused state... following a mental breakdown. The case of the malevolent medic is closed. How did you ever get the hunch about the handbag, Mr. Wolfe? I know nothing about women. But on my occasional trips abroad... I have been forced to observe their handbags. Monstrosities. They hold anything and everything. Now that our guests have gone... Fritz is bringing coffee to the study. Would you like some beer? I believe I would. Somehow I feel I've earned it. Here you are. Oh, fellow, I'm very sorry for you. How so? This is one case in which there is no falsely accused... unattached young lady for you to squire about. Well, here's to your better luck next time. The Night's Transcribed Story by Ruth Adams Knight was based on the characters created by Rick Stout. This is an Edwin Fadiman program... produced and directed by J. Donald Wilson. In the cast were Harry Bartel as Archie Goodwin... and Gene Bates, Vic Perrin, Bruce Payne, and the two of the two of the two of the two of the two of the of the deep being deep being deep temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures temperatures brings you the top tunes of the land with Snooki Lansing, Eileen Wilson, and Raymond Scott's orchestra. And for mystery, Herbert Marshall stars as the man called X, a man in search of adventure who travels wherever there is intrigue, danger, and romance. More good mystery at Sam Spade next on NBC. Music.
