Stand by for crime. Hi, Chuck Morgan again. You know, being a newscaster on a radio station the size of KOP puts me in line to meet a lot of people. Statistics show that there are more than 5 million active criminals in the USA. These include the sneaking small-time petty thieves and the big-time operators who head up Murder Incorporated. They also include the racketeers, that group of sadistic and scrupulous parasites who prey upon the weak, the innocent, the honest citizen. To my way of thinking they're the worst, the ones we can best get along without. Especially those who deal in human emotions. Which is why when I reached my office last Thursday and found Carol Curtis, my blonde secretary, entertaining a stranger, I listened to her story and really got burned up. Have you been to the police about this Mrs. Ellis? Yes, but what can they do? This woman, this May Dawson, she claims to be our baby's natural mother. She has a birth certificate to prove it. You see Chuck, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis adopted Betsy when she was only 7 months old. She's now 6 years. Naturally they think of her as their own. Oh she is our own Miss Curtis. Why we love her more than if I were her natural mother. What about the adoption agency? Well they went out of business a year after we took Betsy. Yeah, that's the usual pattern. If you people who adopt youngsters would only investigate the so-called... Chuck, Mrs. Ellis didn't come here to be lectured. I'm sorry. She knows she's wrong, but that doesn't alter things. She's in danger of losing her child and she wants to know if there isn't something you can do to prevent it. I don't know what, but the police's hands are tied. What about this May Dawson, the child's natural mother? She claims that after the child was born she was unable to support it, so she left it with the adoption agency. And she told them that as soon as she was able she'd come and get the baby and pay them for having kept it. Yeah, that follows too. Hello Pappy, come in. This is Mrs. Clara Ellis. Mrs. Ellis, Pappy Mansfield, owner of KOP. How do you do? Mrs. Ellis believes she's been victimized by one of those adoption agencies, Pappy. Oh, one of those, huh? Yeah. She's going to lose her baby, Pappy, unless someone does something about it. And I think Chuck should do it. Chuck? What can Chuck do? Well, he can at least talk to that woman. Now wait a minute, Glamourpus. Mrs. Ellis, have you said anything to this woman about money? I mean, did you offer her some if she allowed you to keep the youngster? No, I was afraid to. My husband's a tool and die worker, Mr. Morgan. He makes a comfortable living and we've saved $2,000 against Betsy's education. If May Dawson took that $2,000, then she'd want more. We'd be bled for the rest of our lives. And if she didn't take the $2,000, then you'd have to assume that she was the child's natural mother. And you don't want to think that, right, Mrs. Ellis? Yes, that's right. But whether she is or not, she hasn't any rightful claim to Betsy. Why, the woman hasn't seen the child since she was seven months old. Now how could she possibly... Your mother instinct is getting the best of you, Glamourpus. You know, that money angle might give us the answer we're looking for. Now just what do you think you're going to do? Yes. Just what do you think you're going to do, I hope? Well, if the woman were offered some money, a sizeable amount, and took it... It would prove the whole thing's a racket. And Mr. and Mrs. Ellis could keep their baby. And if she didn't, Chuck would be a sucker. How much money were you thinking of offering, Chuck? Oh, say, $20,000? Well, that's a good neat figure. Now just where are you going to get this tidy sum to offer the lady? Well, my pappy, I'm surprised. You're going to provide it, of course. Well, it wasn't an easy job selling pappy on the idea he should risk $20,000 trying to expose what might or might not be one of the most vicious rackets in the books. He was only half convinced that Mae Dawson didn't have a legitimate claim, especially since Claire Ellis had no proof whatever that Mae Dawson wasn't little Betsy's natural mother. But pappy, that's what we want to find out. If it's a racket, then we want to know about it. Why? We're not in the racket busting business, Chuck. We're running a radio station. Why should we think... Because when you run a radio station or a newspaper or any other public service enterprise, it's supposed to be devoted to the best interests of the people who support it. And that's the public. My, my, just listen to Miss Curtis. Now look, this is what I have in mind. Suppose I call her Mrs. Dawson. I'll represent myself as Mrs. Ellis's attorney. I'll tell her the Ellis's are too upset to talk to her again. I'll hint around and finally offer them $20,000 of my money. Oh, Chuck, I knew you'd do something. Mrs. Ellis, you have nothing to worry about from now on. Chuck will take care of them right there. Now wait a minute, Glamour Post, let's not get Mrs. Ellis's hopes up. I can't promise a thing. There's still a 50-50 chance that Mae Dawson is legitimate. If she is, there's nothing anybody can do. She won't take my baby, Mr. Morgan. I don't care who she is. She won't take my baby. I'll kill her first. The more I thought about this thing, the more I wondered if I weren't being a sucker. Even if after talking to Mae Dawson, I became convinced she was pulling a racket, what could I do about it? The whole thing didn't make sense. Except that I kept thinking what a terrible tragedy it would be if Clark and Clara Ellis had their baby taken away from them, or if Mrs. Ellis carried out her threat to commit murder. So it was with considerable misgivings that I rang the doorbell of an apartment in West Los Angeles, which was where Mae Dawson had told Clara Ellis she was living. Yes? Hello, you Mrs. Dawson? Yes, I'm Mrs. Dawson, but if you're selling... No, I'm not selling anything, Mrs. Dawson. My name is Simpson. I'm an attorney employed by Mr. and Mrs. Clark Ellis. Oh, oh yes, Mr. Simpson. Won't you come in? Thank you. Would you sit over here, please? Thank you very much. I hardly know what to say about this, Mr. Simpson. I know exactly how the Ellis's feel and I certainly don't blame them. Did I hear the bell? Oh, company, Mae? Oh, Arnold. I'm glad you stayed home today. This is Mr. Simpson. He's an attorney hired by the Ellis's. And he doesn't... Oh, he do. I can guess why you're here, Mr. Simpson. We both feel terrible about this, probably as bad as the Ellis's. But you are going through with it. Well, you see... Mr. Simpson, if you or the Ellis's could only see our side of the picture. You see, Arnold and I were married a year after I learned that the adoption agency had closed. Our first baby died at three months. The doctor told me I couldn't have any more. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me. For a long while, I thought I'd never be normal again. Well, didn't it occur to you and Mr. Dawson to adopt a child? We talked about it, but... Do you know how it feels to have a child of your own, Mr. Simpson, and lose it? No, I'm afraid I don't. I'm not married. Mae took it hard, Mr. Simpson. I kept her under a doctor's care for about 15 months. Then one day I was going through some of her things and I came across Betsy's birth certificate. Oh, you didn't know about her first child then? Well, I knew she'd been married before, but she never told me about the baby. I was afraid of what he'd think of me for abandoning Betsy. And what did you think, Mr. Dawson? It was quite a blow, but well, I love my wife very much, Mr. Simpson. She was ill at the time and I certainly wasn't going to condemn her for something that wasn't her fault. How long was it after that that you decided to claim Betsy? Not until last week. I had no idea where Betsy was living or who her foster parents were. And then quite by chance I met Mr. Harrison. Mr. Harrison, who's he? Mr. Harrison on the adoption agency where I'd left Betsy. I reminded him that he'd promised to keep Betsy for six months before letting her go. And he reminded me that he had kept her for six months and one week. And then that he only let her go because he decided to close the agency. I see. And he told you where the Ellis's could be found? Yes, he did. Arnold and I talked it over and then I decided to go see Betsy. I don't know what happened to me that day, only suddenly I simply had to have my baby. Well, I think I can understand how you felt, Mrs. Dawson, but I can also understand Mrs. Ellis's feelings too. By the way, I wonder if I can see that birth certificate. Yes, of course. I'll get it for you. Thank you. Well, Dawson got the birth certificate without hesitation. I took it over to the window where I could get a good look at it. Now, I'm no expert on birth certificate, but this one looked okay to me. It had been recorded in a small town in Rhode Island, properly signed and sealed. Still there was something, something I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe it was because the Dawson's had been too willing to let me see the paper. While stalling for time, I turned the certificate over and back again pretending to be studying it. But whatever it was that it hit me wouldn't gel. Well, it certainly looks okay. This is going to be rough on the Ellis's. Mrs. Dawson, about adopting another baby, have you... I couldn't, Mr. Simpson. I just couldn't knowing that Betsy's my very own. Yes, it's true, but she's Mrs. Ellis's own too. Well, there's something else to consider too, Mr. Simpson. It's expensive adopting babies these days. Expensive? Well, I don't know much about this business, but I understand this is very... Well, there's always a certain amount of expense involved in such a procedure. There's legal work, physician's fees, adoption fees, a dozen different items that all add up. Well, in that event, I'd like to make a suggestion. If it's finances that bother you, I'm sure the Ellis's will be glad... No. Well, it's no use, Mr. Simpson. I want my baby and I mean to have her. But, darling, we can at least listen to Mr. Simpson's suggestion. What are we going to say, Mr. Simpson? Well, simply this. The Ellis's are willing to pay a sizable amount in order to be able to keep Betsy. Enough, in fact, to defray all the cost of adopting another baby and to secure the child's future and your own for a considerable period. And what would that amount be? Twenty thousand dollars. Twenty thousand? Oh, Arnold, no. I don't care how large the amount is. Can't you understand that it isn't money I want, it's my baby? I understand perfectly, my dear. But what could we do for Betsy? We're in rather poor circumstances, you know. And if we had our own baby with enough money to rear her properly, wouldn't it be best all around? Well, it is worth considering, Mrs. Dawson, and think of what you'd be doing for the Ellis's. I... I know I... I know. But Betsy's mine, my very own, and it's she who I want. Ah, you're upset, darling. Believe me, I don't want you to think that I'm weighing money against your child. But there are so many other factors to consider. I tell you what, let's think it over and talk it over a little before we give Mr. Simpson our answer. And be no harm in that. Oh, all right. Fine. Now, is that satisfactory with you, Mr. Simpson? Say, oh, well, a day or maybe two or three days. Oh, of course. I'm sure the Dawson's will be agreeable. Here, I'll give you my phone number where I can be reached. So I scribbled my home number on a slip of paper and gave it to Arnold Dawson, wondered if he'd check up the location, and wondering also if he'd look up Attorney Simpson in the city directory. Then I remembered I hadn't given him my first name. There must be a hundred or more attorneys named Simpson in the LA area. But the way I had it figured, Arnold wouldn't bother to check anything. He wanted to get his hands on that 20 grand. Also, he wouldn't wait two or three days either. I was right. He called me that evening and said that he and his wife had decided to take the money and adopt another baby. Well, I got down to the office early the next morning and found Pappy and Carol waiting. I called Pappy the night before and told him what the score was and was therefore not surprised at the reception I got, which wasn't promising. Are you crazy, Chuck? Everything you've told us about your visit yesterday proves that the Dawson's aren't phony. Give me a for instance. Sure, I'll give you a for instance. Good. If they were working a racket, they'd ask for cash. And you told me last night they were willing to accept a check. Now don't let them talk you out of it, Chuckie boy. You keep out of this, Carol. I'm sorry. I'm not going to let them talk me out of a glamour buzz. These two are phonies working the smelliest racket I've ever known. Be reasonable, Chuck. Agreeing to take a check. They'd be dopes to ask for cash, Pappy. It'll be a dead giveaway. They're phonies. I can prove it. How? Number one, they were too willing, almost eager to have me examine that birth certificate. Is that your proof? Number two, they asked for two days and took two hours before accepting the offer. That a boy, Chuck. Carol, I've already told you. I'm sorry, Pappy, but Mrs. Ellis called me again last night and I don't care if the Queen of Sheba called you last night. I'm not going to pour 20,000 bucks down a rat hole just to hear the noise it'll make. Number three, I saw something on that birth certificate that definitely proves it was fake. Yeah? What was it? I don't know. Now that's a good answer. You know what it sounds like. Sounds like Chuck Morgan trying to be cute. I'm not kidding, Pappy. The clue is on that birth certificate. I'm sure of it. But I've got to get my hands on the certificate and study it again. And the only way he can do that is to buy it with 20,000 dollars. Which means we expose the racket and have a whale of a story. And Mr. and Mrs. Ellis will be happy again. And my 20,000 bucks will be gone. Pappy, I promise you it won't. If it is, you can take it out of my salary. Take it out of your salary? Why, that'll take a lot. Yeah, yeah, I know how many years it'll take. I should live so long. Will you stop being so hard to get along with and open up that checkbook, please? Oh, okay. But just remind me to shoot myself directly after lunch, will you? Hand me that pen. So Pappy wrote out the check for 20,000 dollars with a trembling hand and an unhappy expression on his face and I took it and I got out of there before he changed his mind. I started for West L.A. and then suddenly I changed my mind. I thought it occurred to me. A very bright thought indeed and instantly I felt better. I pulled up at the drug store, phoned Carol, gave her some precise instructions, then I phoned Bill Meggs at police headquarters and asked him if he could meet me for a round of golf at the Burnside Country Club. He couldn't, did. I told him the whole story. It was at the Ninth Hole where there's a water hazard. Then I remembered what was on that birth certificate that made it a phony. I told Bill about it too. He agreed I had a case. So Bill and I had lunch and we parted. It was 2.55 when I finally pushed the doorbell of the Dawson apartment. Oh, hello Simpson. Come in. Thank you. Mrs. Dawson's rather upset. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you're not going to change your mind, Mrs. Dawson. I don't know. Every time I think of my own baby. No, no, no, no, stop. This makes me feel like a kidnapper. Perhaps if I talk to Mrs. Ellis. Mrs. Dawson and I have made our decision, Mr. Simpson. Now, let's get this over as quickly as possible. Brought the check, of course. Yes, yes. I have it right here. Excellent. Now, I've prepared a paper relinquishing any claims we have on Betsy. We've both signed it. Well, I'm not so much interested in such a paper as I am in that birth certificate. Birth certificate, Mr. Simpson? Of course. Without that, any claims you might make would be worthless. So I'm afraid I'll have to ask you for that certificate in exchange for this check. Yes, of course. I understand. And I may... Yes, I'll get it. So May went into the other room after the birth certificate and, like me, didn't figure it out. She came back a minute later. Here you are, Mr. Simpson. Which was when I made my mistake. I turned and... Arnold must have had a pair of breast knuckles hidden in his pocket. Nothing else could have hit me harder or knocked me colder faster. Time passed. Or I suppose it did. I was in no condition to check. All I know is that when I could see again, there wasn't anything to look at except a crack of light which apparently came from beneath a door. Also, I was well trussed up and the same old voodoo drum was beating its familiar tattoo inside my head. Then I heard a door open in the room beyond and there was another sound which was sweet, sweet music. Well, there's no one here, Pappy. No, and it looks like we're wasting our time. Let's get out of here. Wait a minute, Pappy. Listen. Hey, sounds like someone's in that closet. It's Chuck. Well, so it is. Well, fancy... Oh, Pappy, stop being funny. He's hurt. Here, Chuckie, boy, let me untie that gag. Pappy, loosen the ropes. Sure, sure. There. Chuck, what happened? Are you hurt? Don't touch my head. That's all. Just don't touch my head. Ah, now there you are, my boy. You're as free as the wind again. Thanks, Pappy. Did they get away? Who, the Dawson's? Yeah. Well, there's no one here but us, so they must have. You got the birth certificate, of course? No, but I remember what was on it that was phony. What was it? Before you answer that, there's just one question. Did they get the 20,000? Yes, but don't worry. I'm not that dumb. What do you mean you're not that dumb? If they've got that check, what stopped them from cashing it? Because I waited until almost 3 o'clock before getting here. They couldn't get to the bank in time. They'll have to wait until tomorrow morning to cash the check, and we'll be on hand to greet them. Well, you idiot. What do you mean, you knuckle-headed idiot? No, wait a minute. Everything occurs to you but the right thing. Huh? This is Friday, and on Fridays, the Los Angeles banks are open all day. A quick call to Pappy's bank confirmed the fact that the Dawson's had been there and cashed the check, and a quick exit by me prevented Pappy from firing me on the spot. 20,000 smackers. I began figuring how long it would take me to pay it back at the rate of 50 bucks a month, but lost track when I became 70 years old. After all, I'm no Einstein. Brother, I'd really pulled a boner this time when I went back to the office prepared to face the wrath of Mr. Mansfield. But luckily, Pappy wasn't in. But good old Glamperpus was waiting for me with a kind word and a cheerful smile. Never mind, Chuckie Boy. Pappy will forget the whole thing as soon as he cools off. Yeah, yeah, but it's going to take more than my winning smile to cool him off $20,000 worth. Oh, fiddly-D. You know Pappy. Sure. Tomorrow I'm going to be saying it's been nice to have known Pappy. Oh, don't be silly. Look, I've got an idea that will make everyone feel better. Yeah, what's that? Well, in the disappointment of failure, all of us forgot the noble purpose of your venture. Please, darling, don't remind me. The Ellises will now be able to keep their little Betsy, and we haven't even told them. You know, you're right. Listen, give them a ring. Well, wouldn't it be better if we went out and told them in person? Huh? Well, after all, there'll be a good deal of satisfaction in seeing expressions on their faces and hearing their thanks. $20,000 worth maybe. And also, it might be a good idea if you stayed out of Pappy's sight for a while. Glamourpus, you're a genius. Let's go. So Glamourpus and I headed for the address that Clara Ellis had given us. As we got near, I found myself looking forward to this experience. After all, I hadn't failed my purpose, not by a long shot. The Ellises were going to keep their child, and by golly, that was worth 20 grand of anybody's money, even Pappy Mansfield. The Ellises lived in a white stucco apartment house halfway up a hill on Melrose Avenue east of Vermont. They had a ground floor apartment with an outside entrance. Carol rang the bell. Hello, Mrs. Ellis. Remember us? Why, it's Mr. Morgan and Miss Curtis. Yes. How's Betsy, Mrs. Ellis? Betsy? Oh, she's fine, just fine. Well, may we come in a minute? We've got some good news for you. Well, I, that is, could you make it some other time? Well, you don't understand, Mrs. Ellis. Our good news is about Betsy. You don't have to worry anymore. There was something wrong about this, something very wrong. Mrs. Ellis had suddenly lost her role of stricken mother and was either scared or mad. Why? I didn't have to spend much time trying to figure the answer to this one. The answer appeared behind Mrs. Ellis. The door to another room opened and two people appeared. One, a man carrying a suitcase. The man was Arnold Dawson and the woman, Mae Dawson. For about two seconds, all five of us stood frozen in a state of shock. And in that two seconds, a whole dirty picture was revealed to me as clear as a newly washed window. We'd been taken in by one of the smoothest rackets I'd ever come across. The Dawson's and Mrs. Ellis had conspired to extort $20,000 from Pappy Mansfield. There wasn't any little Betsy or stricken parents or long seeking mother was all a gag. But it was the fact that they'd made a goat out of me that made me mad. I not only saw red, but all the other colors of the spectrum. It didn't make any difference that at that moment, Dawson dropped his suitcase and reached for a gun. I went into that house like a charging bull. Out of my way, woman. All right, you're too much chiseled. You just missed your only chance. Make a sucker out of me. It was over as quickly as that. Dawson was down and out and I had his gun. The two females had been too scared to move. So now they didn't have a chance. Get Bill makes on the phone, Glamour Puss. If one of these stricken mothers makes a move, I'll blast her from here to Sunday. So that's how it was. At a half hour later, Carol and I were driving back to KOP to bring the glad tidings to Pappy Mansfield. Pappy was alone in his office when Carol and I walked in. Hello, Pappy. Hello, Chuck. You and I have got to have a talk. But Pappy, wait a minute. When did Glamour Puss? But Pappy have his say. Go on, shoot Pappy. Well, I've been thinking about that $20,000. I don't know, Chuck. I guess I was a little hasty. Huh? Well, after all, you did keep the Ellises from losing their kid. I mean, well, that was your intention. And I guess, well, I guess that's worth $20,000. Pappy! Now, wait a minute, wait a minute, just a minute. Don't get the idea that I'm an easy mark. I'm not one more dumb-headed deal like that. Pappy, I love you. I not only love him, I'm going to kiss him to prove it. Now look here, Carol, I'm an old man. See, Pappy, an old man shouldn't be pouring $20,000 down ratholes just to hear the noise they make. So, here's the mumble back again. What? Hey, is that real? Holy smoke, Chuck, what is this? What's your $20,000, Pappy, every dime? The whole thing was a frame, Pappy. There wasn't any little bet. Or stricken mothers. All three of them were in it together. Chuck and I went out to tell Mrs. Ellis she wasn't going to lose her daughter and the Dawson's were there. So we called Bill Meggs and I retrieved the doll. Oh, Chuck was wonderful. He licked them all. Of course, two of them were women. Well, I'll be... No kidding. Well, I'll be... No kidding? Well, now, come on, Pappy. You can think of something better to say than that. Sure I can. Well, I'll be... No kidding. Say, Chuck. Yeah? I hate to admit this, but one of the reasons I didn't fire you was because I want to know how it was that you knew that birth certificate was phony. Yeah, how about that? Miss Curtis, Mr. Mansfield, under the circumstances, I'll be glad to tell you without undue delay. Well, go ahead. Yeah. Stop saying yeah, glamour person. There's a lady you like. Yeah. Yeah. When I read the birth certificate, I took it to the window to get a good look. I couldn't help noticing the watermark on the paper. It was dated 1950, which meant that the paper was manufactured that year. And since Betsy was supposed to be six years old, her birth certificate couldn't have been written on paper that wasn't made until three years after she was born. Get it? Well, I'll be... No kidding. And so will I. No kidding. Yeah, no kidding. Come here, glamour puss.
