Portsions of the following program are transcribed. The National Broadcasting Company presents Dick Powell as Richard Diamond, private detective. The National Broadcasting Company presents Dick Powell as Richard Diamond, private detective. Roberts. Hello, Walt. Hi, Rick. They show? Not yet. Fisher's covering the service entrance. We'll go in. Hunk the horn if you spot anything. Right. We'll get out here, Otis. Get the car out of the way. Like old times, Rick. Yeah, but I don't miss him. Somebody always gets shot up. Here's another exciting half hour with Richard Diamond, private detective, starring Dick Powell. Hey, you, hold it. There you are, sir. Hand it snap shot of yourself stolen down the Great White Way. Look, thanks, but I... Just send him this card with your name and address. Look, friend, thank you, but I... And Mr. Diamond, please. You don't know me, but I know you. You used to be a cop. I done time. That's how I know, see? Okay, okay. Heard you was a private cop now. Came to your office to see you, but I was too early. Now, look, what is this? Please, please, you gotta take this card. I think I'm being tailed. Little men with nasty old sledgehammers? I'll call you later. Take the card. I told you... Take the card here. Take it. I'll call you later. I'll call you later. Diamond Detective Agency. Mary had a little lamb. She hid it with a stick. She could have gotten 20 years. Instead, she came to Rick. Oh, are you really that good? Well, I got the inside on who knocked off Cockrobin. Well, good for you. Hi, Helen. Hi. Did you just get in? Yeah. God, late, isn't it? Oh, well, I don't know. You're quite late on a case. Half a case. Alone? The funniest thing happened to me on the way to the office. Alone? No, I was leading patrol number three of the Brownies. I mean last night. Were you alone? Don't you want to hear what happened to me on the way to the office? I want to hear what happened to you last night. Oh, now relax, honey. I was with Walt. Honest? Honest. We played poker. If you don't believe me, stop it at the fifth precinct. Walt hired a voodoo witch doctor to shrink his head back to normal. All right. Now what happened to you on the way to the office? Oh, well, the dintiest thing. Some little guy comes out of the crowd and snaps my picture. Snaps your picture? Yeah, you know, one of those sidewalk photographers. Then he creeps up to me and gives me a card like he was passing a pound of radium and tells me to hang on to it until he calls. Said he was being tailed. Who was he? Who knows? He knew me all right. Well, what's on the card? Oh, nothing much. Got it right here. Just a place for your name and address. Well, you're supposed to send it in and get your picture back. That's right. Hey, wait a minute. What's the matter? Well, there's something stuck in the middle of the card. Hmm. Didn't see it before. Well, Rick, hurry up. Find out what it is. Oh. Hey. Well, stop with the mystery. What is it? Oh, it's a negative. Small negative. Oh, we couldn't have developed your picture that quickly. It's too small to make out what it is. Hold it up to the light. Honey, I am. Just looks like a bunch of people on the street. Oh, why don't you have a print made of it? I got a better idea. Why don't you hang up the little old phone and give my friend the frightened photographer a chance to call. I'll call you later. Brute. That's later, dear. Bye. Well, that's the way it started. I hung up the phone, turned around to my chair, and held the negative up to the light again. Couldn't see a thing that made it unusual. The more I tried to figure it out, the less sense it made. My better judgment started chucking, but somewhere down in the middle of my stomach, a little alarm started ringing. I had that lousy feeling again, and no matter how hard I tried to talk myself out of it, I knew something was wrong. I was a little scared. I was a little scared. I was a little scared. That little alarm kept sounding off, and believe me, I felt pretty foolish when I realized it was a phone. That little alarm kept sounding off, and believe me, I felt pretty foolish when I realized it was a phone. Yeah? Mr. Diamond? Oh. Been taking any more pictures? How'd you know it was me? Scientific police methods. Hunch. And I recognized your voice. Find the negative in the card? Yeah. What does it mean? Don't want to talk over the phone. Come to 222 Bleecker Street, Apartment H. You want me to bring the negative? No, no, no. Hide it. If they stop you, you don't want to have it on you. If who stops me? They'll kill you, sure, if they find it on you. Well, one thing was certain. The little photographer sure knew how to get me interested. I started out of the office when I remembered he'd said to hide the negative. So, loving a good melodrama, and being the type who sits home Sundays to listen to Sam Spade, I found a piece of adhesive tape, put the negative back in the card, pulled out a desk drawer, and stuck the negative on the bottom of the drawer. Then I closed the drawer and headed for Bleecker Street, Apartment H. I waited a few seconds and then gave it another try. Yeah? I'm looking for the guy who lives here. Oh, you are, huh? Yeah, short little guy. Takes pictures. He does, huh? Well, your name's Einstein, isn't it? No. Look, I just want to see the little guy who lives here. Louie! Hi! I found some canisters in the icebox. Ah, that's swell. Somebody out here wants to see George. Some liverwaste, too, huh? Somebody wants to see George. Oh. Well, maybe it's a guy he called. Hiya. You want to see George, huh? I want to see the guy who called me. His name's George Swell. Oh, shall I let him in? Yeah. Come in. Thanks, Toto. Ah, his name's Tony. Who called me Einstein before? Funny. Hey, George is in the other room, right over there. Thanks. I seen you before. Goodie. Used to be a cop. Yeah? Private eye now. Hey, what the... That's George. Is he the one you want? Name's Diamond, ain't it? Look, dreamy. Is he sleeping one off? No, he's dead. Who killed him? I did. I helped. Okay, you helped. I wouldn't, Shamus. Yeah, I got a rod in my pocket. Had it on you all the time. Pretty good, huh? He sees a lot of movies. I'll just take your gun, Shamus. Be careful with the holster. I knitted it myself. Funny. You hungry, Shamus? Not a bit. You, Tony? I'm starved. Put him to sleep while we have lunch. Sorry, Nick. Hey, now... Louis, huh? Let's eat them knishes. I like them that way. Yeah, I hope they're potato. While the Rover boys loaded up on liverwurst and knishes, I slept it off. The one with the pug nose and the steel wool complexion called Tony had tapped me right behind the ear with his gun, and it took me a pint of blood and 15 minutes to find my way back. When I finally rolled myself into a sitting position, I lifted my sore skull and looked up at my two lovely playmates. Hey, Tony. Uh-huh? You got liverwurst on your chin. Oh, thank you, Louis. Oh, how you feel, Shamus? Like a lark. He is funny, you know? We want the negative, Shamus. I don't know what you're talking about. While you were napping, we thought it joined the party. It ain't here. It ain't? Nah. So we figure seeing as how George called you, maybe you know something about it. How'd you know George called me? Oh, we heard him just as he was hanging up. He went for a gun, so we knocked him off. Where's the negative? I don't know. Maybe he's got it on him, Louis. Find out, huh? Oh, still, Shamus. Here's his wallet catch. No, nothing else. Nothing much in the wallet. Here's a bunch of cards. Diamond Detective Agency. Hey, get a load of the fancy printing. Yeah, fancy. Maybe he's got it in his office. How about it, Shamus? Look, you two broken-down comics. Anything in my office, the termites have got dibs on. And I still don't know about a negative. Uh, Louis, shall we go over there? Yeah, we got to find it. What about the Shamus? How long did you put him to sleep before? 15 minutes. 15, about 20 minutes to get to his office. Half an hour to case a joint. This time make it an hour, huh? Hey! Sure that's good for an hour? Oh, sure. But if you're worried, I'll give him another 10 minutes just to be safe. Quick! You know, it's little things like that that can get awfully monotonous. And if you're not conditioned, sometimes you end up with a few loose bolts. Tony was a man of his word, all right. An hour and 10 minutes later, I was stumbling around the room, trying to comb the cobwebs out of my eyes. This also can be somewhat of a problem, especially when your eyes have come loose and rolled back in your head someplace. Well, I leaned over, shook my head a couple of times, got the eyes rolling around until I felt them drop into place, then I found my way to the phone. Fifth precinct, Sergeant Otis. Well, don't worry about it. They'll find a cure someday. Oh, no. What do you want, Diamond? Your other head. I'm going bowling. Someday, Shamus, I'm going to... Someday, Sergeant, you're going to find your true niche, and Ringling Brothers will have to find you a mate. Now, put the lieutenant on the phone. Oh, now, what do you want? How's your head? Don't you shout at me. Well, it's your own fault. Who in the world drinks old-fashioned stingers? I do, and I'm sorry. How do you feel? Eh, numb. Take some orange juice, Tabasco and three raw eggs. Walt, please. It's great. Makes you sick as a dog. Look, Walt, if my head is the wrong size, it's because it was beaten that way. Oh, no. Have you gotten kicked around again? I got so many waltz, I look like an advertisement for puff rice. What happened this time? Get over to 222 Bleecker Street, Apartment H. Why? Because I got a little old corpse for you. Oh, not today. Not today. Please. Take some orange juice, Tabasco and three raw eggs. Oh. Oh, weak mind, weak stomach. What's the police force coming to? Hello, bright eyes. Oh, can't you lower your voice a little? Well, go on in, Otis. Oh, oh, sure, sure. Pelican feet needs an engraved invitation. Well, shut the door. Oh, a yas. Oh, no, you. Oh, what did I do? Relax, Walt, relax. You don't look so bad. I think I like you with the purple face. You said there was a corpse here. Where is it? And save the gags. The dead man is in here, laughing boy. You don't have to be nasty. The coroner should be here any minute. Well, there's the victim. Who is he? Otis. Take a look. Uh, Yadleton. Yeah, Lieutenant, yeah, Lieutenant. His name's George Phipps. I went through some of his things while I was waiting for you. Here's his wallet. George Phipps? Let me get a better look. Know him? Get out of the way, Otis. But you said... Yeah, I know him. Excom. Got sent up just about the time you went on the force. He remembered me. What do you do? Drop circulers on Sing Sing? Ha ha ha ha. Otis. It wasn't that funny. Uh, yeah, Lieutenant. What? Uh, no, Lieutenant. Otis. Oh, what, Lieutenant? Shut up. The rest of the boys from homicide finally arrived along with the coroner, and I briefed Walt on everything that had happened up to that point. George Phipps had been shot in the back, and the boys found the slug on the other side of the room in the wall. So Walt asked for a complete report as soon as possible. Then we climbed into the squad car and went back to Walt's office. Now, what about that negative? You think it's still in your office? I don't know. I'll go over later and check. I think you can identify the two gun-ups who worked you over. Drag out the files. Well, if these two guys knew George Phipps, maybe they did time with him. Could be. One's name was Tony, huh? Well, Tony Payton did time with Sing Sing, and he sounds like your description. This looked like you, boy. Let's see. Wow, you little dickens, you. You win the butterscotch cake. I'm right? You certainly are. This guy is a sure cure for insomnia. Okay, let's see if we can find out about the other one. Here's the report, Lieutenant. George Phipps was shot with a.38. Hey, Tony Payton put me to sleep with the end of a.38. He did, huh? Would you mind finishing the report, Sergeant? Not at all. Been dead about two hours. Phipps started working for the Speedy Photo Laboratory four days ago. Has about four photographers working for them. You know the kind, take your picture on the street and give your kind? Yes, I know the kind. What's the address of this photo lab, Orris? Down on 36th Street. Walt, I'm going to my office to see if the negative's still there. You've got to identify the other mug that wakes you over. I don't know his name or anything else. Take an hour. Well, I'm going along. I want to see this negative. Then let's go. You want me to drive? I can make it, Sergeant. Oh, shame on you, Walt. You know, he just wants to turn on the siren. Well, the place is sure a mess. They really did a job in your office. Any negative there? No, didn't think it would be. Well, now what have we got? I don't know about you, but I've got an idea. You go on back to the station. I'll check with you. Where do you think you're going? To the Speedy Photo Lab. It's not quite six. Maybe I can get there before they close. And what do you think you're going to find there? The negative's gone. Sure it is, but it was developed there. You think maybe there's a print? No, that picture was probably taken of somebody on the street. They don't print up those things unless somebody sends in the car. Somebody must have, so there's got to be a print. The FIPs only worked for them for four days, so the picture had to be taken in that time. Hello? Let me talk to Lieutenant Diamond. Sure, but who's there to show you how? It's for you what? Oh, yeah? Nobody ever says hello. What? Oh, nothing. I mean, yeah, yeah, I got something. We just got a report on a stiff in the river. Thought you'd want to go check. Oh, sure. In the river, huh? Yeah. Anything else? No, that's all. Well, good. I'll just go rent a little old rowboat and sail merrily up and down until I find the crowd. What's the address, your hornhead? Oh, 682 River Street. Thank you, Sergeant. What's the matter, Walt? I got to go check on a homicide. Come on. It's on the way to the photo lab. I'll drop you off. We climbed in the squad car and cut across town. In front of a small white building on 36th Street, Walt let me out and headed for the river. I went into the speedy photo lab and flashed the badge just long enough for the guy in charge to think I was a legit officer. Then I went through the list of people who had been mailed pictures in the last four days. The speedy photo lab must have been heading for a quick collapse because there were only seven names. I wrote down the addresses and started to check. The first four were strikeouts, but the fifth was good for all the bases. Yes, what can I do for you? Mr. Andrew Troop? Yes. Did you receive a picture from the speedy photo lab? Why, yes. What's this all about? May I see it? Well, I don't know. Here's the badge. A policeman. Now, now, don't get excited. Everything's all right. Well, I can't help but get excited. A real live policeman. How wonderful. Oh, Dandy. You see, I'm an amateur criminologist. I'll send you a magnifying glass. Now, may I see the picture? I'll get it right away. A real policeman. I may break out in a rash. He got the picture all right along with his correspondence course from the Find the Clue Detective School. And while he explained his advanced theories on police procedure, I took a good look at the snapshot. He was, of course, the reason for the picture. He was walking along toward the camera, puffed up like a parked pigeon with his eye on some popcorn. But there in the background were my two sweet skull crushers, Tony Payton and his friend. But nothing seemed wrong. They were simply walking out of a building, one on either side of a short, stocky man with a large briefcase. Is that picture a clue of some sort? Well, I don't know. Do you mind if I take it with me? I'll see that you get it back. Not at all, not at all. I thought you policemen worked in pairs. Well, we usually do, but my partner got sore and gave me back my class ring so we're not speaking. Goodbye and thank you. I got it, Walt. I don't care what it is, I'll trade you. Otis for whatever you got. Here's the picture. Oh, this is swell. Well, now what's the matter? Two homicides in one afternoon, that's what's the matter. Hey, who was the guy in the river? Worked for a brokerage firm, disappeared four days ago with $200,000 in negotiable securities. Let's see that picture. All right. Now here's the guy who the picture was taken of, the type who works in the pill factory. There's Tony Payton in the background. The gorilla next to him is his partner. I know him, that's Louie Ruzzo. Three times Lou... What do you see? Holy, I... no wonder. No wonder what? That guy, that guy between Tony and Louie. The one in the middle, the one with the briefcase? Yeah, yeah, that's the one we just fished out of the river. Oh, oh, then they accidentally got their pictures taken just before they killed the man with the securities. Sure, Payton evidently saw Phipps take the picture, remembered him from zing-zing, couldn't go after him until they took care of the guy with the securities. Sounds good. Phipps developed the picture and saw what he had, got scared and came to me for help. That must have been... Lieutenant. Oh, what do you want? We located Tony Payton. Where? Over in a broken down hotel on 25th Street. Come on. Fisher and Roberts showed the clerk Payton's picture and the clerk said he was registered there under another name with another guy. Fisher and Roberts staked out? Yeah, across the street. Get the car and step on it. Lieutenant... Yeah, yeah, the siren. There's Roberts parked up ahead. Pull up by him, Otis. Right. Roberts. Hello, Walt. Hi, Rick. They show? Not yet. Fisher is covering the service entrance. We'll go in, honk the horn once if you spot anything. Right. We'll get out here, Otis. Get the car out of sight. Yeah. Like old times, Rick. Yeah, but I don't miss them. Somebody always gets shot at. Get going, Otis. Okay. Ready, Walt? Yeah. Let's go. You're the desk clerk? That's right. There's not going to be any shooting, is there? Not if we can help it. How late are you usually on? Till midnight. Is there a room around here, a closet or something we can wait in? Nothing close to the lobby. Look, if there's going to be any shooting... What about the elevator? What about it? You gonna turn the light off and wait in there? Yeah, I guess so. Good idea. That part of the lobby's dark. Wouldn't see us until they were on top of us. They just live on the second floor. What if they use the stairs? It won't get that far. Come on, Walt. What do you want me to do? What you do every night. Sometimes I play the radio. Okay, if I play the radio? All right, but keep it low. I sure hope there isn't going to be any shooting. Where's the light switch? That's not it. Oh, where the... Okay. Is there a stool over there? Hey, that's too loud. Hey, lady. Hey. What are you doing? Turn it down. What are you doing? Getting that stool. That's it. Uh, two eleven. Huh? Oh. Peyton. Oh, you sure jumpy. Yeah. Two eleven. What's the matter? Something wrong? No, no. This dump will make me jumpy, too. He's heading for the stairs. When he gets past us. Now. Hold it, Tony. All right. Don't move an inch. What a shamus. Ah, thirty-eight. All right, look, what is this? That's a bright remark. Where's your partner? You think I'd better make a guess? I'll make it a good one. Rick, not in front of taxpayers. I'm not a cop, and this guy gave me my lumps earlier. Now, where's your partner, Tony? Someone coming in. That's Louie. Cop is Louie, bitch! Watch Tony Walt. I'll go after Louie. Get to work. He's coming your way, Roberts. He's coming back your way, Rick. Stop, Louie. Stop. Okay. Come me to a hospital, will you? All right, all right. Sorry about the horn, but he slipped past. Get him an ambulance. I'm going back in with Walt. Sure. Nice shooting. Okay, Rick? Yeah. All right, let's go, Tony. Gee, I didn't think there was going to be any shooting. Well, you never know, do you? Rick. Hmm? I'm getting a little tired of you getting your face all bruised up. You're getting a little tired. Well, you know what I mean. I worry. You worry, and I ache. I'll trade you. If I could, I would. You little doll. I know you, but honey... I know. As long as we're going to give away your worry and my sore face, let's give them to someone who deserves them. Otis. Oh, he's got enough trouble of his own. Yeah. Have you ever seen those feet? There's another shoe store in town that carries the size. Rick. It's true. You can only get one pair a year. Why only one pair? Takes four months just to lay the keel. Oh, there it is. I might as well answer it. Louise Pool Hall. What? Louise Pool Hall, Snooker Billiards and Straight Pool. Now, you stop that, Helen. Helen? Look, I don't know what you want, Mac, but the name's Gay Tude. Now, don't give me that. When you picked up the phone, I heard a piano. Well, of course you hate a piano. What do you think this is, a crummy joint or something? We got high-class entertainment. Anybody that runs eight straight billiards gets a free beer and a song. Oh, yeah? Well, Gertrude, would you mind telling me who does the singing? You mean you ain't hate? We got the world's greatest lyric baritone, Clyde Cat. He's crazy. Oh, now for Pete. No, no, no, no, Clyde. Wait a sec. I'll get him to wobble a number. Hey, Clyde. Yeah, Goody? Flex your tonsils. Sure. The bird with feathers of blue is waiting for you Back in your own backyard You'll see your castle in Spain Through your window pane Back in your own backyard Oh, you can go to the east, go to the west But someday you'll come Weary at heart, back where you started from You'll find your happiness lies Right under your eyes Back in your own backyard There, see what I mean? Now, look, I want to speak to Rick. Don't know him, don't know him. Maybe he works in the bowling alley. But, but, but... Oh, you'll have to excuse me, Mac. My brother that runs the joint is real skinny and some jerk just chalked up his head and just used him for a cue. Now, you wait a minute. Oh, I can, Mac, I can. He's liable to get a concussion. See you later. Why didn't you want me to talk to him? Well, do you really want to know? Yeah. Because I wanted you to hear exactly what you're beginning to talk like. I talk like that? That close. Oh, now, come on. I mean it, Rick. You associate with so many the guys that talk out of the corner of their mouth that you're beginning to pick it up. Oh, well, honey, if you're going to get square on me. Now, do you see what I mean? Honey, if you're going to get square on me. Well, all right, all right. You want a little proper diction, huh? Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt. Ahem, darling. Oh, ayos. Come closer. Oh, how nice. Not that close, darling. You're fogging my glasses. Sorry. Nothing. Better. Much. Shall we? Love it. Oh, Ronnie. Oh, Cynthia. Hey, it works. I got to remember this. You have just heard Richard Diamond, private detective starring Dick Powell. Ed Begley played Lieutenant Walt Levinson. Also in the cast were Wilms Herbert, Francis Robinson, Byron Cain, Gene Bates, Tony Barrett, and Jack Crushen. Music was under the direction of Frank Worth. Today's show was written by Blake Edwards and directed by Russell Hughes. Portions were transcribed. Dick Powell currently may be seen in the motion picture version of the best-selling novel, Mrs. Mike. This is Eddie King inviting you to be with us when we will again bring you Dick Powell as Richard Diamond, private detective. Here's an important time change reminder for Richard Diamond fans. This is the last Richard Diamond broadcast in this time period. Beginning April 5th, you will hear Dick Powell as Richard Diamond at a new time on Wednesdays. Check your local newspapers for the exact time, and be sure to tune for Richard Diamond on Wednesdays beginning April 5th. Next Sunday at this time over most of these same stations, NBC will present Voices and Events, the exciting chronicle of today's happenings throughout the world. Tune here next Sunday for Voices and Events, and be sure to hear the next thrill-packed adventure in the life of Richard Diamond one week from Wednesday over most of these same NBC stations. Next, hear James Melton and Harvest of Stars on NBC.
