Richard Diamond, Private Detective, starring Dick Paul. Mr. Diamond. What are you, Mr. Diamond? Oh, my goodness, yes. Come right up. My name is Wolf. Unofficially, so is mine. Sit down. Thank you. Oh, no, no. My pleasure. You must get a dividend from the Nyland Company. You'd be terrible if there was a shortage. I'm well stocked. Yeah. What can I do for you? Start by calling me Edna. Then what? I'd like you to follow my husband. As a detective or a replacement? I think he's been seeing another woman. Why? Have you been running around the house in a diving suit and swim pants? I've always tried to keep myself attracted to my husband, Mr. Diamond. Well, then if your husband is seeing another woman, Mrs. Wolf, it's got to be an optometrist's assistant. Well, thank you. I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Well, now that we're all agreed, tell me some more about your husband. What makes you think there's another woman? Usual thing. The way he's been acting. Business up his sleeve. Nothing else? He received a call late this afternoon. I listened in on the extension. It was a woman. She called the house? George was very unhappy about it. Wants her never to do it again. She gave her name? She said, this is Nancy. I must see you here tonight at eight o'clock. She didn't say where here was, did she? No, George seemed to understand. Probably her apartment. Probably. If he's seeing another woman, I want a divorce, Mr. Diamond. And you need grounds. Yes. A hundred a day in expenses, Mrs. Wolf. Edna. It's still a hundred a day in expenses. Here's two hundred. I hope that's enough of a retainer. Oh, that'll keep me interested for quite a while. Now, tell me, what does your husband do? I mean his business. He's in steel. How much in? Very much. He's vice president of his company. What does he look like? Here's a picture of him. Well, I'll start right away and see what I can find out for you, Mrs. Edna. Yeah. Well, look, after I found out just how unfair your husband's treating you, I might lend you my shoulder to cry on. And I'd just about have to call you Edna then, wouldn't I? By seven o'clock, I was standing across the street from her house waiting for her wandering husband. By seven thirty, a man stepped out on the sidewalk and held cab. I recognized him from the photograph as George Wolf. And I started the tale. Following him east across town to an apartment house on 47th Street. By the time I got in the lobby, it was deserted. A list of names on the mailboxes showed the only girl named Nancy in the building was a Nancy Fowler. So I headed for her apartment. Her door was at the far end of the hall. And I was halfway to it when George Wolf found it out and ran right into me. Let me go. Take your hands off of me. You forgot to close the door. Get out of my way. What's the matter, friend? You look like you ran into a yard full of snakes. Will you get out of my way or must I use force? Use all you like, but I think you better go back and close the door. No, no. Yes, yes. Stop it. You can't do this to me. Well, I hope you aren't always this wrong. No, no, please. Now get in the room. Oh, Swell. No wonder you took off like that. I didn't kill her. I swear I didn't kill her. Nancy Fowler? Yes, I guess so. You guess so? Well, this is Miss Fowler's apartment. I've never seen Nancy Fowler before in my life. There was a.38 revolver lying next to the dead girl, so I took out my own gun and covered Wolf while I called Lieutenant Levinson of homicide to get right over. Wolf yelled, screamed, and pleaded, and even offered me a nice fat bribe. But we waited for Fatty Levinson and his squad of New York's finest. He finally arrived, but New York's finest was poorly represented. Oh, Shamas, in trouble again. Walt, did you have to bring Otis? I promised he hasn't used the siren in four days. Who's this guy? George Wolf. Caught him running out of the door. Well, Mr. Walt, what about it? I had nothing to do with it, but I'm not saying any more until I see my lawyer. He was crying all over the place before you got here, Walt. Claimed he got a call from a Nancy Fowler who asked him to come up here. That's the truth, Lieutenant. She said she had something important to tell me. Says he never even heard of Nancy Fowler before the call. That also is the truth. When I came to the apartment, I found her lying just as you see her. How'd you get in the door? She told me she'd leave it open for me to walk right in. Well, it came out the back just below the shoulder blades, Lieutenant. You're on the gun, Mr. Wolf? I refuse to answer any more questions. Okay, take him down to the car, Otis. Come on, you. Rick, just how did you happen to be in this building at this particular time? Well, that was hard, but that guy's wife, the tail end. He was supposed to be playing illegal footsies with a female named Nancy. The dead girl? Well, the wife just knew the first name was Nancy. The girl who's supposed to live here is named Nancy. Nancy Fowler. I've never seen her before. Maybe the dead girl is one in the same. Well, I'll get an identification and have the gun checked by ballistics. In the meantime, I'm going to give this apartment a good going over. Mind if I help? Now, what kind of an answer do you expect that you will anyway? You were so right. We started going over the apartment room by room. Closets, drawers, everything. In ten minutes, the coroner and the boys from the lab arrived. And in the bedroom, Walt found something. Take a look at this. Ah, a jewelry box. Pretty expensive. Regal Jewelers. Very classy establishment. Has a card in the box. Oh, my darling love, George. And the guy said he never saw her before. If this is his handwriting, he's as good as strapped in the chair. Well, it looked as if my client, Mrs. Wolf, had a killer for a husband. But a couple of small items still worried me. So I left Walt and went downstairs to find the switchboard operator. Oh, you with the police? I just left them. Tell me, dear, do you keep a list of the calls that are made through the switchboard? Sure, it costs the tenants ten cents a call. May I see the list? Yeah, I guess so. Here, handsome. Gee, nobody's called me that since I had long blonde curls and a gold yo-yo. I looked over the list of telephone calls and found the ones made by Nancy Fowler during the past three or four days. The last call listed from her apartment had been made at 7.45 that evening to a familiar telephone number. The same number Mrs. Wolf had given me when she left my office earlier. I left for the home of Mrs. Edna Wolf. Yes? Oh, Mr. Diamond, you shouldn't come here. What if my husband... Your husband's spending the night out. What? In a cell, all alone. Oh, you'd better come in. Now, what in the world are you talking about? Oh, it looks as if your husband killed a girl this evening. Oh, no. That's the way it looks. Oh, please, sit down, Mr. Diamond. Thanks. I caught him running out of the girl's apartment, forced him back and found the girl shot to death on the floor. Nancy Fowler? Yes, I think so. It was her apartment. The police are making identification now. Oh, it's just terrible. I wonder why he did it. Were you here in the house at 7.30 this evening? What? No, I was with a friend until about 8.30. Well, a call was made to your house from Nancy Fowler's apartment. She was charged for it, so the call was completed. Would she probably talk to George? Your husband swears he didn't know the girl. Claims he got a phone call and she asked him to come right over. That she had something to tell him. He knew her all right. You remember, I told you I overheard them talking. Your husband own a gun? Well, yes, I believe so. You know what caliber? No, I don't know anything about guns. A bracelet was found in the dead girl's apartment. The card with it was signed, Love, George. It looked pretty bad, doesn't it? If it's his handwriting, it does. Well, I guess he deserves it, but I'll call our lawyer and see what can be done. I'll keep in touch, Mrs. Wolfe. I hope you will. Just because the case is finished. Well, there are still a few things that bother me, so I'll just kind of keep looking around until I'm satisfied. You mean you think maybe my husband didn't kill the girl? There's an awful lot of evidence that he did, but there's still a motive to be found. You've got the grounds you wanted, so from here on in, anything I do for you or your husband will be on my own time. Anything you do for my husband, I'll be glad to pay for. Oh, well, now that's really nice. Well, I'll take a run down to the precinct and let you know what the lieutenant has found out. Good night, Mrs. Wolfe. Still can't get used to it? It'll take a while. Thought you'd be in bed by now, Rick. My landlord sure cheated me. What did you find out, Wolfe? The dead girl was Nancy Fowler. Figured. And George Wolfe did do the killing. His gun? Yeah, we checked the registration. His gun, his fingerprints on it, his handwriting on the note in the jewelry case. What does he say about the bracelet and the note? He bought it all right, we checked. Wriggle-jowls. Says it was for his wife. You expect him to say something different? No. What's the motive? We'll find it. Probably another man. Here's the report on the dead girl, Lieutenant. Well, isn't it a little late for you, Otis? Why aren't you out flying around some belfry? He's picking on me again, Lieutenant. Maybe you'd like me to tell him about the time I caught you sleeping in the attic hanging by your toe. Oh, not your toe, Lieutenant. Otis, I hear you've been picking up some extra money posing for Charles Adams. I don't have to take this. I know my rights and I ain't no bat. Here's something on the dead girl. She works at the Gilded Cage, a nightclub owned by Eddie Young. Eddie Young. Well, he's a nice little fella. He'd set fire to his grandmother if he thought it was too cold in the room. We'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Well, I guess I better be going. Sure. See you later. Yeah, I could sure use some sleep. And a wreck. When you get over to Eddie Young's club, give him my best. Smarty. The Gilded Cage where Eddie Young ruled as proprietor and keeper for his flock of hard gorillas was only about six blocks away, so I decided to walk it. But like always, I start in one direction and end up getting sidetracked. Keep walking, Diamond. Don't turn around. You caught me when I'm riding the mood. You turn around, I shoot you. What's the matter? Don't you want me to spot your Tony? Over to that car. Okay. Quit poking. Your muzzle's cold. You drive. I'll get in the back. Oh, I forgot my glasses. Can't see three feet without them. Get in. But I have a restricted driver's license. You want it right here? I can wait. Where to? Just start driving and don't turn around. We headed east across town with a gun pointed at my neck. I tried to get a look at the guy in the rear vision mirror, but he was sitting too far to one side. I didn't know where we were headed, but I had a pretty good hunch why we were going there. Turn right. And take it a little slower. I don't want to have to shoot a cop. Well, if we're headed for the river, I've seen it. From the bottom? Don't you think we'd better stop at a bathhouse or something? I know a spot where you can go in clothes and all. Okay, but if there's anything I hate, it's getting my money wet. Turn right again. We were headed for a cross street. I could only turn right or left. A big warehouse was dead ahead. I eased down on the gas and we picked up speed as we neared the intersection. As I started to make the turn, I stamped down on the gas hard, and at the same time threw myself toward the floorboard. His gun went off so close to my ear, I felt like my head had split wide open. Then we hit the building. We had hit the building and pushed our way halfway through the brick wall. I was still on the floor and the mortar had been shoved through the firewall and was jammed into the front seat where I'd been sitting a minute before. My friend with a gun was stretched out over the top of the seat, his legs resting on the horn and his shoulders through the windshield. I sat up, rolled him off the horn. He was very dead. Before a crowd could collect, I climbed out and got to a phone call, Walt. Are you sure you're all right, Rick? Yeah, I can hear things better now. Didn't you say the other guy is dead? Very young. I recognized him too, Gus Winkler. Holy cow! You know who he's working for now? No. Eddie Young. Oh, that's it. Now don't pick Young up, Walt. I know a few things I haven't told you about and this almost puts a cinch on it. I want to talk to Young and then I'll be down to see you. But if Young tried to have you killed? Oh, if he did, you can't prove it. Not yet anyway, so sit tight. When I get there, I'll show you how to catch a killer. Are you going someplace, chump? Yeah, right through that door, chump. That's Mr. Young's office. Maybe he don't want to see you. Maybe he don't. He's going to be disappointed. You ain't going in there, chump. I see. Everybody gets disappointed sooner or later, chump. Yeah, what... Aren't you in the wrong room? That's what your boy outside thought. I changed his mind. Are you sure you ain't looking for Bellevue, Shannis? You're kind of a mess. One of your boys, Gus Winkler, tried to give me swimming lessons. He didn't claim his body at the morgue. I don't know what you're talking about. Somebody else who works for you got killed tonight too. Yeah, who? Nancy Fowler. What? Oh, come on, Eddie. I couldn't stand it if you started crying. Who killed her? The police are holding a man named George Wolfe. Know him? No, I don't know him, but Nancy's talked about him a couple of times. Hey, boss, that guy just... Forget it, Lou. Forget it, will you? Go on, beat it. Okay. You know, Shannis Lou's a pretty big boy for you to go pushing around. He's liable to stay mad. So Nancy said she knew this George Wolfe. That's right. Ritual guy, from the way she talks, she was taking him good. Where were you between seven and eight this evening? Right here in this office. I got witnesses. I'll bet you have. Okay, Eddie, I'll see you around. I left the office knowing how close I was to the whole answer and called Walt at the precinct. I told him to meet me up the block from the gilded cage, and ten minutes later he pulled the squad car up the curb and I climbed in. You find out anything? Yeah, but I have to know one thing first. What time was Nancy Fowler killed? The coroner's report puts it at 7.30. Well, that ties it. Now would you mind telling me what it's all about? I'll do better than that, Walt. I'll show you. But we've got to wait until Eddie Young leaves the cafe and goes home. It was around 12.30, we settled back to wait. And with an impatient cop sitting next to me, it wasn't easy. Around one in the morning, a boy brought Eddie Young's convertible up in front. We watched Eddie climb in. Okay, Walt, tell him. We stayed close, following Eddie Young across town until he pulled up in front of his apartment and turned into the basement garage. Give me five minutes, Walt, then come on up to Young's apartment. Why can't I go now? Because what I'm about to do isn't quite legal, and I couldn't stand seeing you blush. Hold it, Eddie. Hey, what's going on? If you want to yell, I'll kill you. Look, look, don't put away that gun, will you? What do you want? Let's go up to your apartment. But please believe me, Eddie, I'll do something bad if you get out of line. We rode the elevator up to Eddie's eighth floor apartment. I shoved him in the door ahead of me and then made sure there was no one else around to give me any trouble. All right, all right. What do you want? Pick up that phone. Okay, well, take it easy. Well, who do you want me to call? This number and hurry. I'll tell you what to say. Okay, I don't get this. Evergreen Street. What's the matter? Don't you like that number, Eddie? I don't even know the number. Come and dial it quick. Okay. And when you get an answer, just say, this is Eddie. Get right over here. I got to see you. Sir, I'd like to show my... You look, Eddie. I'm going to hold this barrel right between your eyes so you can see it coming at you. Make a mistake. I won't make a mistake. Hello, this is Eddie. Yeah, get right over here. I got to see you. I can't talk. Goodbye. Okay, now, will you take that gun away? You look a little worried. What have I got to be worried about? I don't know who I was talking to. That should be the law, Eddie. What is this timing? I'm sorry, I can't show you right now. Good night, Eddie. Wait a minute. Come on in, Walt. You said five minutes. Holy smoke, what happened to him? I just put him to sleep. He stayed that way for a while. Now, Rick, you've got to tell me what's going on. I told you I'd show you. Now, go on in the kitchen and see if you can find some ketchup. Ketchup? Yeah, then bring it out here and pour it all over Young. Have you lost your mind? Walt, I wanted to make him look like he's bleeding. Now, go find the ketchup or I'll just have to cut his throat. Walt found the ketchup and under protest poured it over the unconscious Eddie Young. Then I made sure the door was unlocked and we went out in the hall to wait. Please, Rick, what is this? It's the same way Nancy Fowler's killing was framed, only she was really killed. Shh, shh, quiet, elevator. Okay, play along with it. I'll go. Let's go, Walt. All right, hold it, Miss Walt. Oh, Mr. Diamond, he's dead, he's dead. His hair is all covered with blood. Why did you kill him? Kill him. I didn't kill him, I just got here. Don't let you in. He told me the door would be open. I didn't know you knew Eddie Young. Well, yes, I know him, he's an old friend. Why? This is Lieutenant Lemonson, Mrs. Wolfe. He's the man who arrested your husband for the murder of Nancy Fowler. Lieutenant, I swear I didn't kill Eddie. Looks bad, Mrs. Wolfe. I didn't. Why would I want to kill Eddie? So why would your husband want to kill Nancy Fowler? I don't know. What has that got to do with this? You told me you didn't know Nancy Fowler. I didn't. You know Eddie, Nancy worked for Eddie. Well, I didn't know it. I didn't know Eddie that well. You said a girl called your husband and said her name was Nancy. Yes, that's right. You told me you didn't know her last name. And yet when I came over and told you your husband had just killed a girl, you asked me if it was Nancy Fowler. That's a lie. You said that Nancy phoned your husband that afternoon. She did, she did. I swear she did. And yet Nancy Fowler's hotel switchboard has no record of a call being made to your phone anytime in the afternoon. They made a mistake. But at 7.45 a call was made from Nancy's apartment to your phone number. Then she must have called my husband again. According to the Karnas report, Nancy Fowler was dead at 7.30. Oh, I... Mrs. Wolfe, I can swear your husband didn't go into that building until 8 o'clock. I was following him. This doesn't make any difference what Eddie did. Did Eddie kill the girl? Yes. I called my husband. I wanted to get a divorce. And his money at the same time. Eddie didn't answer, so we decided she'd be the one. She let Eddie in. He made her call my husband. Then he shot her. The gun and the bracelet. You just took them out of your husband's dresser drawer and planted them in Nancy's apartment? Yes. I found the bracelet and the drawer with the gun. I guess my husband was going to surprise me. Eddie! Eddie is moving! Oh, Eddie, Eddie, darling! What happened? You're hurt. You're bleeding. Stay still until we can call him. Wait a minute, will you? What is this stuff? This isn't blood. I'm covered with ketchup. Ketchup? Ketchup? Why, you dirty no-good! Eddie, where have you been? Frank! Frank! They're all yours, Walt. Why, good night, Mrs. Oh, I guess now is as good a time as any. Good night, Ed. Yes? Ellen? Hmm? It's Rick, honey. Oh, isn't that sweet. I was just dreaming. Rick, it's four in the morning. Where are you? Oh, I'm helping Walt close up the Gilded Cage. Helping Walt close up the what? The Gilded Cage, nightclub. Oh, your music. Hmm, but in his accordion, I will love you. Are you drinking? Honey, I'm with the police force. What was that? Well, that was Walt. He said Rick. You stood me up this evening. Well, I'm going to make up for it, honey. Listen. Okay, eh? One, two. Richard Diamond, Private Detective, stars Dick Powell in the title role. The Private Detective is transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. The Private Detective is transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. .
