The F.W. Fitch Company presents Dick Powell as Private Detective Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. This chisel's got you all fouled up in a murder, baby. You'll fry for it. I don't know anything about a murder. Tiffy killed him. He killed Max. Conchita knows nothing about it. Stop being chumps, will you? You're both in this with me. You help me frame Rogue for it. With Max and Con, I'm the biggest operator in town. All we have to do is kill Rogue and we got the world by the tail. You'll all go to the chair for it. You can't get away with killing me. I'm going to kill you, Rogue, right now. If you've got anything to say, say it, because here it comes, fall guy. Rogue speaking. This afternoon, I found a little case in my crime gallery that brought back memories. You just heard a little of it. Enough to know that I was framed for murder. I call the story Little Old Lady and I'll tell you all about it in just a minute. 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Ask for either Fitch's Brush or No-Brush shaving cream. But for a solid comfort shave, be sure it's Fitch, spelled F-I-T-C-H. Thank you, Jim. And now I'd like to go on with my story. Okay, here's Dick Powell as Private Detective Richard Rogue in another personally conducted tour through Rogue's Gallery. I was looking at the world through azure-colored glasses that afternoon. I was as low as a centipede's hangnail and just about as irritated. A couple of lush cases I'd been working on had blown up without paying off. And the girl I was madly in love with that week was madly in love with some other guy. I needed some money. I needed a vacation and I needed a new love interest. When the door to my office opened and then walked a Latin-type panic who made my heart beat in a rumble rhythm that would have made Cougart sound like Spike Jonze. I just sat there trading my blue thoughts in on a lot of purple ones while she closed the door behind her and walked toward me. You are Richard Rogue, the detective? The celebrated detective, yes. What can I do for you? I need your help, Senor Rogue. Okay, what's your name? Concetta Morales. Oh, the singer, huh? That's right. I'm in trouble, Senor Rogue. You know, I sort of suspected that was why you came to see me. What's your difficulty? It's hard to explain, but there is a man in this town who is threatening me. Well, that's not hard to explain. You're the sort of girl who is liable to be threatened. What do you mean by that, Senor Rogue? That you are beautiful and extremely desirable and, oh, pardon me, Miss Morales. I shouldn't have said that. I'm just in a kind of an impolite mood today, I guess. Then you don't really think I am beautiful or desirable? Don't let that glassy look in my eyes fool you, Conchita. I can see, and what I see pleases me, if you go for understatements. Then you will help me. You know, beauty is a wonderful thing, Mexican type, but so is money. My time's for sale. I have money. I will give you $250 if you will help me. What do you want me to do? I want you to get some letters back for me. Oh, why? Because I write them when I'm very young and foolish to a man I think I love. I do not love him. I hate him. I'm sorry, someone else, that man I love, but I cannot because of these letters. Oh, here, here, slow it down to a gallop, Conchita. I'm getting a little confused. Who has the letters? Frank Maxon is his name. He's no good. He is what you call a poor loser. And who is this man you love at the moment? The peter. We will be married soon. Oh, you will be married soon. Well, in that case, let's make this strictly business. What do you want me to do? I'm having dinner with Frank tonight at the Club Coupa. I want you to meet us there. I want you to tell him he must give me back my letters. If he knows that I have employed you to help me, he will give them up. He is without courage. Don't see how I ever think I was in love with him. Frank is considered quite a ladies man, or was, before you went up on that income tax wrap a couple of years ago. Now, understand the boys in his mob are giving him a little trouble since he got out. Where is that 250 you mentioned a while ago? It is here. Just a moment. That's a retainer. If the case gets tough, it's going to cost you plenty more, Conchita. You know that? I do not care. I must have these letters. Here is $250. Thank you. And now what time do I meet you at the Club Coupa? Be there at nine. And I'm warning you, Mr. Rogue. Don't prepare for trouble. Oh, hello, Sr. Rogue. You are late. Sorry, I was held up in traffic. Oh, hello, Frank. Well, what are you doing here, Rogue? Conchita invited me. Sit down, please. Thank you. What is this, a surprise party on me, Conchita? Mr. Rogue is working for me, Frank. Yeah, I came down to help Conchita recover some letters from you. How about it? Nice of you to be interested, Rogue, but Conchita and I can take care of our own affairs without any outside assistance. Goodbye, Rogue. No, I like it here. Where are the letters, Frank? You bore me, Mr. Rogue. I wish you'd leave. Make him give them to you, Richie Rogue. I want those letters, Frank. You ever hear of blackmail? I'm not blackmailing anybody. Those letters are mine. They came to me through the mail. If I want to keep them, I will. But you're threatening me with them. That is illegal, isn't it, Mr. Rogue? Sure. It's especially illegal for a guy who's out on parole. Who's going to call the cops in on this deal? You, Conchita? Mr. Rogue will handle it for me. Look, sweetheart, it's no go. See? You and I will just have to work this out our own way. Hit him, Mr. Rogue. Kill him. No, no, no. There are ways of handling petty larceny pasties or pasties like Frank that you never heard of, Conchita. Look, Frank, you know you've got two strikes against you. Are you going to play ball with me? Conchita's mine and she's going to stay that way, Rogue. She's not getting away from me with your help or any other way. I've asked you two or three times to get out of here, Rogue. Are you leaving? No. I'm sorry about this. I always liked you, Rogue. Oh, Smitty. Yes, Mr. Maxson? Will you ask the boys to throw Mr. Rogue out, please? Your thugs lay a hand on me, I'll break your neck, Maxson. We'll see. Throw them out, boys. It occurred to me as I hit the sidewalk with the back of my head, among other things, that Frank owned a piece of the Club Cuba and that it was a bad place to start a beef with him. I got up piece by piece, counted my arms and legs and waited a while for Conchita to come out. She didn't. So I felt in my pocket for that 250. It was there. I went home. The next morning I went to the office and tried all four noon to get in touch with my Latin type client at her swank apartment hotel. The Mayflower couldn't locate her. I had a late lunch and when I got back to the office about three, there was a little old lady waiting there for me. A lovely little old lady with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes with a lot of laugh crinkles in the corners of them. Mr. Rogue? That's right. You're waiting to see me? Yes, I was. I've been waiting for quite a while, Mr. Rogue. I just had to see you. Oh, I'll have a chair. Don't tell me you're in trouble. No. Oh, yes, Mr. Rogue, I am. I'm in trouble because my son is. Oh, tell me about it. Well, there isn't really very much to tell, Mr. Rogue. I know so little about what Norman has been doing. He's always been a little wild, but a few weeks ago he quit his job and he's had much more money than he ever had before. I know that he's been doing something wrong, Mr. Rogue. Well now, Mrs. Mrs. Stam. Mrs. Stam. Have you tried talking with him? I haven't told you the worst yet, Mr. Rogue. No. Last night he came home for the first time in 10 days. Oh, I've just been worried to death about him. And when he came in last night, he was so pale. And I tried to talk with him, but he went right to his room. He called me after a while and I went in to see him. And, oh, Mr. Rogue, he had been shot through the shoulder. He was bleeding badly. Oh, I see. I asked him to let me call a doctor and he wouldn't. I know that he'd been shot while he was breaking some law. I took care of him as well as I could and I think he's going to be all right. I want you to come and talk with Norman tonight, Mr. Rogue. Well, Mrs. Stam, I'm working on another case right now. Oh, if you'd just come out and talk with him, you could advise him what to do. He won't pay any attention to me and I have to get him straightened out, Mr. Rogue. I have a little money and... Oh, where do you live? In the southwest part of town at 2673 Spring Lane. Would you come out with me and talk with Norman? I'll pay you for your time, Mr. Rogue. Um, I'll go with you, Mrs. Stam. Oh, thank you. That's perfect. All right. But please don't plan on me performing any miracles. If your son was shot during a robbery, he's going to have to go to jail. You know that, don't you? Oh, yes, I know. I only want him to do what's right, Mr. Rogue. I don't want him to do anything foolish. No, of course you don't. You have a car? No, I... Well, we'll take mine. Come on. Well, you certainly have plenty of privacy out here, Mrs. Stam. Yes, it's lonesome, but my husband bought it many years ago. He thought then that it would build up out here, but it hasn't. Did your son know you were coming in to see me? Oh, no, I didn't tell him. He's right here in the front bedroom, Mr. Rogue. Please try to understand Norman, Mr. Rogue. He's a very sensitive boy. Oh, all right, I'll take it easy with him. He's gone! There was the bed with blood on the sheets where a man's shoulder would have been lying. There was no note, no sign of the wounded boy I'd made the trip to see. The little old lady was almost hysterical. I finally got her calmed down. She made some tea, offered me a cup. I should never have gone away and left him. I should have known better. He was frightened, Mr. Rogue. Now, now, drink your tea, Mrs. Stam. Don't cry. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything for you. We'll find him. You will help me, won't you, Mr. Rogue? Oh, of course. Please drink your tea. Don't you like it? I love it, yes. It's, well, it is a little, a little bitter. It's a special kind my oldest boy sent me from China. Well, it... Oh, I'm feeling a little woozy. You are? Well, that's right. That's the way it should be. You poisoned me, you! You poisoned me, you! That's right, Mr. Rogue. I did. My body dissolved before it hit the floor, and a warm breeze wafted me upwards, gently, like a spike out of a chimney. I was drowsy and happy when I hit cloud number eight. I was at peace with the world until I heard that nail-file laugh of my alter-yougor. Well, Rogie, that little old lady kind of put you away, didn't she? Oh, shut up. Let me sleep, Midget. Don't you think you better get downstairs and see what's going on? Why? Oh, there must be some reason why Mrs. Stam, if that's her name, gave you those knockout drops. Look at you, knocked out by Lavender and old Mickey's. Bright boy. Why do you suppose she did it, pest? Oh, I don't know, but you'd better find out. You're in a jam, Rogie. I'll bet that Conchita dame fits in here someplace. Get out of here, Rogie. Okay. Don't push, Yougore. You're my friend. Going down, going down. Next stop, planet Earth. Last car just leaving. Cut it out. Well, look out. Oh, here I go again. Goodbye, Rogie. I came to with my car. My gun was gone. I looked for my money. It was still there. I looked at my watch. It was 9.30. I drove to my office, opened the door, and stopped dead in my tracks. There was a dead man lying there in the middle of the floor. He'd been shot at close range through the head. My gun was lying afoot from the body, the gun that had been stolen from me while I was knocked out. I closed the door and leaned up against the wall to think. I was still leaning there when the door opened. Hello, Rogue. Who's your friend? Oh, hello. Hello, Lieutenant Urban. What are you doing here? I got a call telling me you just killed a man. Yeah? Well, that's Frank Maxson, that defunct character there. Your gun? Yeah. Looks to me like we're going to have to hold you, Rogue, for murder. We'll return to our story in just a moment. But first, we'd like to remind you that in Marie Antoinette's time, hairdressers stood on ladders in order to dress towering hairstyles. Today, the trend in hair fashions is simplicity, a style that requires shining, immaculately clean hair. Fitch's saponified coconut oil shampoo is ideal to keep your hair looking its loveliest at all times. Made from pure vegetable and coconut oils, it protects the hair from drying and becoming harsh no matter how often you shampoo it. Just a little, Fitch's saponified shampoo makes swirls of cleansing, fragrant lather that whisk away every bit of dust and dirt. And the special patented rinsing agent contained in the shampoo ensures the removal of all lather and other particles from the hair so you won't have to bother with additional after-rinses. For a shampoo that assures praise-winning results every time, use Fitch's saponified shampoo. You can have a professional application at your beauty or barber shop, or ask for an economical bottle at your drug or toilet goods counter. Fitch's saponified coconut oil shampoo, six full ounces, fifty cents. ¶¶ Now back to Rogue's Gallery. Dick Powell as Richard Rogue is telling our story. ¶¶ What started out to be a very quiet day brought Conchita Morales, the Mexican singer, to my office. She wanted to get some letters back from a Frank Maxson. I went with her to meet Maxson in a cafe, and we had a brawl in front of plenty of witnesses. After I made a few threats, I got thrown out. Next morning, I tried to find Conchita and couldn't. That afternoon, a little old lady came to my office, told me her son Norman Stam had been wounded in a holdup, and I went with her to her home. When we got there, her son was gone. I drank a cup of tea, which was sweetened with knockout drops, and, oh, I woke up in my car, drove to my office and walked in to find Maxson, the man I'd threatened, shot to death with my gun. While I was standing there wondering what to do next, Lieutenant Urban of Homicide walked in. Looks like we're going to have to hold you, Rogue, for murder. Oh, I didn't kill him. You threatened him in a cafe last night. Plenty of people heard you. Where do you get all your information? The little bird that told me he was dead, that you'd killed him. Oh, but I just got here. I've been gone since about 3.30 this afternoon. Yeah? Maxson looks like he's been dead since about 7. Where were you at 7? An old lady came in here this afternoon to see me, and I went out to her home with her. You mean you've got an alibi? I don't know. What do you mean you don't know? Either got one or you haven't. Well, I went out to see this woman's son. He wasn't there when we got there. So you came back here and killed Maxson. Look, Rogue, somebody phoned Maxson at 6 o'clock and told him to be here at your office at 7. How do you know so much? We've been on the case since 7.30, Rogue. Looks like you went a little too far this time. Look, Urban, look, Urban, I was doped. I've been out of the picture since about 5.30. And while I was out, somebody lifted my gun. Rogue, just put yourself in my place. I find a guy you've threatened to kill dead in your office, shot with your gun. Yeah. Then instead of an alibi, you give me a fairy story about wicked old witches and knockout drops. Where does this old lady live? This one that kidnapped you. Out southwest on Spring Lane. Let's go out there and talk to her, Urban. Okay. Okay, Rogue. We'll just ride in the squad car, just in case, eh? No lights on. There's nobody home. I think we'll go in, Rogue. As long as you say there's a wounded man in here, I don't have to have a warrant. Try the door. Well, it's unlocked. Come on. Turn on the lights. Well, they don't go on. You got your flashlight? Yeah. Look, Rogue, the furniture's all covered. There's nobody living in this house. Uh, Urban, come over this way. Let's look in this bedroom. Are you sure you're all right, Rogue? Sure. Come on, over here. Well, there's not even any furniture in this room. That's right. But there was a bed with bloodstained sheets. I'm sorry, Rogue. They seem to have disappeared with the old lady and your alibi. This house hasn't been lived in for months. Why'd you kill him, Rogue? Look, Urban, you know me better than to think I'd pull a dumb rub out like that in my office. Yeah, but there are no fingerprints on that gun but yours, Rogue. And he was killed in your office, and you don't have an alibi. What am I supposed to do? I'm a cop. I've got to believe the evidence. Oh, sure. I can see it that way. Well, I... I've been framed by an expert. Have any ideas? Some vague ones. Well, I'm gonna pull up here and get some cigars in that cigar store. If you're not here when I get back, uh, I'll expect you at headquarters in an hour. Thanks, Urban. Good luck, Rogie. Well, hello, Murphy. How's my favorite house detective? Oh, hello, Rogue. What are you doing here at the Mayflower, huh? I want to talk with one of your guests, Flatfoot. Do you owe me any favors? Maybe. What do you want me to do? Give me the passkey to Conchita Morales' apartment. You want me walking the streets? Ah, now, just give me the passkey. And if you hear any shooting, come up. What's the deal, Rogue? A little murder. Is she in? Do you know? Oh, Conchita isn't in. The old lady's up there, though. The old lady? Look, Murphy, what old lady? I'm looking for an old lady. Oh, you mean Conchita's mother? Yeah, she's... Conchita's mother? Hey, a little old lady about this high. Eyes with lots of laughs in them. White hair, plump. That Conchita's mother? Sure it is. Her name's Shay. So is Conchita's. Huh? Her real name's Ellen Shay. She's no Mexican, damn. No kidding. Eh, give me your rod and a passkey. No, don't get up. Please, Mrs. Shay. Just keep your seat. Oh, Mr. Rogue. Yeah, surprised to see me? Yes, I am, little. I can understand that, Mrs. Shay. You figured me for a murder app, didn't you? Please don't point that gun at me. For some reason or the other, Mrs. Shay, I don't trust you. No. Where's Conchita or whatever your daughter's name is? That Latin from Manhattan, that phony Mexican that... I won't have you talking that way about my daughter. What do you expect me to call her? After the tour, you framed me for murder. Murder? Who said that before? What do you mean? Are you going to drop that act? Murder, I said. And murder's what you framed me for. Now, sit down. Where's Conchita? I'm expecting her any moment. Drop that gun, Rogue. Oh, Tippy, where have you been? I've been waiting for you to come in. He keeps talking about a murder. I said drop that gun, Rogue. And why should I drop the gun? Because if you don't, I'm going to pull the trigger on this one. And it's resting at the back of your neck. Come on, drop it. Ah, well, where did you come from? I was in the kitchen mixing myself a drink, fortunately. Tippy Tyler, huh? I suppose you're the man Conchita's in love with at the moment. That's right. They're going to be married, Mr. Rogue. In the death house, I hope. It's wishful thinking, Rogue. The two of you killed Frank Maxson, didn't you? Killed him? Killed Mr. Maxson? Oh. No, no, Rogue. You did. According to the cops and all the evidence. You were Frank's right-hand man before he went up, weren't you, Tippy? Mm-hmm. He kind of took over while he was gone. Go on, talk, Rogue. I'm just figuring out what I'm going to do with you. Oh, Conchita. Hello, Mama. What are you doing here, Sr. Rogue? He's making things difficult, Angel. I just dropped in for a little chat about a house out on Spring Lane and a wounded man who wasn't there and a murdered man in my office. That's all. It was a very nice job of framing me, Conchita, Elle and Shay. And you can drop that broken-down accent. Okay, Mr. Rogue, smart guy. What happened? Who was murdered? You ought to know. You helped the planet. I did not. I don't know what you're talking about. I've been arranging things for us, Conchita. Frank Maxson is dead. Your mother helped arrange it. I didn't know what I was doing, Conchita. Honest, I didn't know. That's a lie and you know it. You and your daughter are in this thing too far to get out now unless you smart up fast. There's too much talk going on in here. Maxson's dead. He was found dead in Rogue's office, shot with Rogue's gun. Rogue's as good as burned for it. Mama, did you kill him? No, no, I didn't, Conchita. Look, sweetheart, everybody heard Rogue threaten Maxson last night. It was our chance to get rid of him. Conchita, listen to me. This chisler's got you all fouled up in a murder, baby. You'll fry for it. I don't know anything about a murder. He killed him. He killed Maxson. My Conchita knows nothing about it. Stop being chumps, will you? You're both in this with me. You helped me frame Rogue for it. Maxson gone, I'm the biggest operator in town. All we have to do is kill Rogue and we've got the world by the tail. You'll all go to the chair for it. You can't get away with killing me. I'm going to kill you, Rogue, right now. If you've got anything to say, say it. Because here it comes, fall guy. The little old lady picked up my gun and let Tippy have it right between the eyes. He never knew what hit him. The house dick came charging in and she told him the whole story. Tippy owned that house. She took me, too. He framed it with the old lady to get me out of the way, giving her some cock and bull story about wanting to search my apartment. She pleaded guilty to giving me the knockout drops, but denied knowing that he was framing me for murder. And as long as she saved my life and gave me an alibi for the time of the murder, I believed her. The judge let her off with a suspended sentence at my request. Conchita was very grateful to me. And when Conchita she was grateful, the angels she shamed. Oh, brother. Mrs. Dick Polligan, ladies and gentlemen. I meet some lovely people in these stories. They love murder like Richard Rogue loves money, and it makes a very happy combination. Ray Buffham wrote the story, Leith Stevens composed and conducted the music, and Dee Engelbach produced and directed. Oh, don't forget, you've got a date with us all next Thursday night. We've got a story for you about blackmail, intrigue, and sudden death. We call it Eve and the Apple. So make a date with us, will you? Thanks for listening, and good night all. Now here's Jim Doyle. Don't forget to tune in again next Thursday, same time. Oh, and by the way, be sure to see Dick Powell in his newest RKO picture, cornered at your local theater soon. And as I was saying, don't forget to tune in again next Thursday, same time, same station, when you will again hear Dick Powell as Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. Remember, if dandruff is your problem, ask for Fitch's Dandruff Remover Shampoo. It removes dandruff the first time it is used. Fitch's Dandruff Remover Shampoo is the only shampoo whose guarantee to remove dandruff is backed by one of the world's largest insurance companies. This statement can be made by no other shampoo. Ask for Fitch's Dandruff Remover Shampoo at your drug or toilets good counter, barber or beauty shop. Fitch is spelled F-I-T-C-H.
