Broadway Is My Beat

Broadway Is My Beat : 3 Classic Noir Mysteries

Freitag, 16. Oktober 2026 · 1 h 21

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Broadway Is My Beat brings you classic old-time radio crime drama filled with gripping detective cases, dangerous criminals, and suspenseful mysteries set in the heart of New York City. Join the detectives as they investigate shocking crimes and uncover hidden truths. Enjoy these timeless episodes from the golden age of radio. Thank you for listening!

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The Adventures of Harry Niles.

The Adventures of Harry Niles.

What's the matter with him?

Don't push him anymore, Timmy.

Corey.

Yes, Mr.

Sampson.

Get the track veterinarian and meet me down at the paddock.

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry, Mr.

Sampson.

I don't know what happened to him.

Oh, that's all right, Tim. You were doing fine. Just keep him going easy. The vet's coming down to have a look.

He should have won easy.

I know.

Did you lose a lot, Mr.

Sampson? That's not important. What's important is Laddie. Keep him going. Don't let him cool off so fast.

He's slowing down.

He's sick.

I can't keep him going.

All right, Tim. Write him here.

I'll take his bridle up. Leave him around for a while.

What's wrong with you, laddie, huh? Cool him down real easy, Timmy. I don't like the way he's behaving. I don't like it at all.

They call it the sport of kings. because at one time only kings could take part in it. But now, in the 1940s, anyone with two bucks is a king, and their little parimutuel ticket is the tangible end of a dream of conquest. And on the odd Saturday, in the warmth of the racing season, the shabby detective quits his upstairs firetrap and rides the Pacific Electric east out of town with all the other hopefuls.

East of the L.A.

Suburbs, out of Huntington Drive, past the expensive lawns of San Marino, at last reaching Arcadia, the home of the aqua and white dream factory called Santa Anita.

The End.

Hey, what's the matter with him anyway?

He was doing great until the backstretch.

Uh, you supposed to be down here at the paddock?

I don't know.

I came down to visit my money.

What's your name, anyway?

Niall.

What's yours?

Mr.

Sampson, okay for Mr. Niall to be here?

Don't bother me now, Corey.

Uh, listen, we've got some trouble here.

Yeah, yeah, I saw it.

What happened to Laddie?

We don't know. That's the vet over there with Mr. Sampson, so if you'll... Tell you what, how about giving my card to Mr.

Sampson?

Oh, listen, now is no time to... Harry Nile Detective Agency?

Yeah.

Has that got my phone number on it?

I've got a phone... Hey, Mr.

Sampson!

Later, Corey.

I'm busy here.

Stay here just a second. This guy's a detective.

Here's his card.

I'll be back in a minute, Doc. You're a private detective, Mr. Nile?

Yeah, that's right.

I think I can use you.

In a moment, Phil Harper stars in The Adventures of Harry Nile. Tonight's story, photo finish. And now, The Adventures of Harry Nile.

The Adventures of Harry Nile.

Tim! Tim!

You ride a lot of Samson horses?

I've ridden a few.

Jim Verdugo is one of our top money jockeys, Mr. Nile. We're always lucky when we can get him to ride.

And you all think somebody doped Laddie Buck. Now, why?

Oh, you could tell.

He went out of his stable in perfect condition.

That's right.

Oh, wait.

Here comes Doc. Doc, what did you find? Morphine.

Morphine?

I knew it, but how?

Now, wait a minute.

Doctor, I'm a private investigator working for Mr. Sampson.

I'm sorry. I should have introduced you. Doc, this is Mr. Harry Nile. Harry, Doc Spalding.

Hey, glad to know you.

How are you?

Now, how did you determine there was morphine?

I tested a blood sample.

Hmm.

How do you administer morphine to a horse? Hypo, I suppose. I don't know any other way.

Listen, when could anyone get to Laddie?

Yeah, he wasn't out of our sight for a second.

How fast will morphine act, Doc?

No telling.

It depends on the size of the dose.

Don't you ever use it on horses?

Not morphine.

It's too unpredictable.

Sometimes it acts like it does in humans as a sedative. But then sometimes it'll turn a horse crazy.

I want a report of this to the racing commission.

Already done, Mr.

Sampson.

But how could anyone give Laddie morphine without our seeing him?

You say you can't tell how long before the race started he might have gotten the shot?

No.

He went out of here perfect, didn't he, Mr. Sampson? He was looking great.

That's right.

That's right.

He was sure preppy at the gate. He wanted to run, that's for sure.

All right.

Now, who had access to the horse for, oh, say, the last half hour before the parade to the post?

Only Corey and Tim and myself.

No one else?

Nope.

Doc, did you check the horse for any sign of puncture, anything like a hypodermic.

Needle would make?

I think we looked him over pretty carefully out in the paddock.

I've been over every inch of his hide. Nothing, nothing.

This is spooky.

Well, Mr. Niles, you've got your work cut out for you.

Good morning, Mr.

Sampson.

Hey, nice place you got here.

Oh, good morning, Niall.

That Laddie Buck running?

Yep.

How's he feeling today?

Oh, he's a little off his gait, but not bad.

I've got a couple more questions.

All right.

Who profits if Laddie Buck doesn't win?

Everyone who bets on the horse that does win.

No, besides that.

Oh, conceivably, some outfit would be laying on the other horse. You're not too familiar with racing, I guess.

No, cards are my weakness. Now, yesterday, was the betting exceptionally heavy on the horse that finally won, a Corsair?

I wondered about that. No, it was about normal.

Oh, here's Laddie. Oh, that's Corey riding him.

Oh, hi, Mr. Nile.

How's our time?

Off about four seconds.

What I'm asking is, what's the motive for doping your horse?

Hey, that's easy. Laddie's a favorite, right? Yesterday, he'd have paid only $ 380 to win. But Corsair, he paid $ 680.

Well, Corey, can we find out who might have made a big chilling on Corsair yesterday?

Well, that'd be next to impossible. Anyone can buy a Perry Mutual ticket or cash one in. You don't sign your name or anything. Oh, yeah. Oh, there's some off-track betting and bookies. Well, there's where your answer lies.

You know any bookie joints?

Not that I'd tell you about.

Hey, uh, did you ask to see the films of the race?

Yeah, that's an idea.

The films?

Well, the track films every race. Might be the commissioners will let you have a look. In fact, I'll come with you. Well, that doesn't show me anything I didn't see with my own eyes yesterday.

I don't even really know what I was looking for.

How did they do it?

I gotta tell you. Right now, I haven't a clue.

Well, well, thanks for running the film, Sid. Anytime. Come on, Harry.

Gee, some view from up here on top of the grandstand.

Yeah. Nice spot for a track. I always liked Santa Anita.

What's that over there across the fence on the other side?

In those trees? Kind of a part. Part of what's left of the old Baldwin Rancho. Ever hear of Lucky Baldwin? No, can't say as I have. Well, Lucky was one of the first gringo landowners here. His rancho ran up here by the foothills of the Sierra Madres all the way out to the ocean. All this land was once his.

Over there, they've preserved a stable and a couple of other buildings. They have a lake. Make a lot of movies over there. Well, where to?

Think they'd let me walk around a track.

Go ahead.

I'll call you tonight.

The east fence along the backstretch of Santa Anita is shaded by clumps of pepper and eucalyptus trees.

Pick out the spot on the track where Lanny Buck first lost his stride, right here. Something happened to him. Maybe his great heart skipped a beat as the morphine got to him, or maybe. Maybe... suddenly seized by curiosity about something I noticed going on back of the trees in the Baldwin Rancho. I trot along the fence, looking for a place to climb over it, but the barbed wire on the top discourages me.

Fifteen minutes later, though, I'm off the track and over in the Rancho on the outside of the backstretch fence. A system of dirt trails winds under the low-hanging branches. I duck around, heading for the spot I'd seen from the track. When all of a sudden... You!

Hey!

What?

Oh, me? What are you doing?

Get out of the shot!

You talking to me?

You're in the shot.

This is a movie set.

You just spoiled the take.

Harry and I will be back in a minute.

I'm stumbling around trying to find out what's happening on the other side of the backstretch fence at Santa Anita... And I stumbled into a movie they're making on location, which doesn't make me very popular with the director.

All right, lunch, everyone.

Back at 1.30 sharp.

Is it okay to talk now?

Yeah, it's okay.

Listen, I'm sorry I messed up your movie. Well, it wasn't intentional, so forget it. We have nuts trying to get into the camera range all the time on location.

I'm used to it.

What kind of movie are you shooting here?

What else?

Tarzan.

You're the director?

Yeah, for this sequence, I'm the second unit director. We shoot here for a week, then wrap it up, and the rest is shot in Culver City.

Then you were shooting here yesterday.

Yeah.

While the races were going oh you from santa nita well yeah sort of i'm a private detective here's my card oh something going on well yeah it's something i wish i knew what what do you do when they're cheering in the grandstand over there doesn't that pick up in the soundtrack no we.

Use very directional mics but still sometimes we get some noise and then we have to loop the scene back in town Loop.

The actors re-record the dialogue in the studio.

Ah.

We add sound effects that way, too. For instance, gunshots.

Now, in this picture, see, Tarzan gets shot by some bad guys, and we see the bullets eating the water and the trees and so forth. What we actually use are bullets made of Fuller's earth fired by a compressed air rifle, which doesn't sound like a real gun at all, so we dub the gunshots back in the studio.

See?

Yeah.

What are you looking at? Oh, the Pygmies.

Oh, yeah. They surprised me for a second. Those are Tarzan's friends. Yeah, I know. I read them in the funny papers. Are you going to be here the rest of the week, you say? Right. We'll wrap up Friday, I think.

I hope.

I might be back.

Okay, sure. Do me a favor.

Stay out of the shots.

He did five furlongs in 59 and three-fifths.

That's good.

Good enough. I'm going to get him in a race the first thing next week.

Any chance we could get him in one this week?

I don't think so, unless there's a good reason. Why?

Well, you have scratches all the time. Why don't you try? Hey, they owe it to you.

You really don't know much about racing, Harry, but I could see about it.

Why?

Because I'm working on a theory. You are?

What is it?

It's too far-fetched. I'm embarrassed to tell it to you.

But if you could get Laddie Buck in a race by Friday, it just might work.

I'm afraid I'll have to know what you've got up your sleeve before I'll run Laddie that soon.

I won't kid you.

I gotta have Laddie run to smoke out the guy who gave him the morphine.

In other words, you want to use Laddie as bait.

Well, yeah. Uh-uh.

I won't go for that, Harry. This horse hasn't even begun to earn back my investment in him.

How'd we do this time?

He's ready, Corey. Fifty-nine and three-fifths.

I knew it.

Good boy, laddie.

Hi, Mr.

Nile.

Any news?

I guess not, Corey. I was hoping there would be, but... Well, I guess not. I'll be in touch, Mr. Sampson.

Wait a minute, Harry. Take a minute and cool him down, Corey. What's your plan?

I just need to have Laddie Buck in a race by Friday. If I'm wrong about this, nothing will happen. If I'm right, I'm pretty sure I can keep anything from happening and nail the guy we want to nail.

That sounds like double talk.

Will you do it?

Okay, I'll let you know.

Well, he looks in top shape, Mr.

Sampson. I'd say so.

He's ready. He's really ready.

I've kept a pretty careful check on everything, Mr.

Nile, like you asked me to.

Thanks, Doc. Well, good luck, everyone. I'll see you after the race.

You're not joining me in my box?

No, I'll watch it trackside. How long before the fifth race? 30 minutes. Okay, see you later.

Thirty minutes.

Time enough for me to get through the tangle of cars in the parking lot and reach the entrance to the Lucky Baldwin Rancho. Peacocks strut on the sunny sidewalks and shady paths as I head back behind the old buildings to the tropical pool. And sure enough, huge arc lamps fed by generator trucks are still there. Dozens of technicians are at their jobs making Arcadia into a jungle.

I skirt the edge of the set area, even under the pepper trees and the shadows.

I don't want to be seen carrying what I have in a leather case, especially on a movie set.

And then I spot what I hoped for.

There's a truck backed up close to the fence by the backstretch of the Santa Anita track.

There's the call to the post for the fifth race. The race Laddie Buck is in.

What's that?

Coming from the truck by the fence, an air compressor. So I was right.

I edge closer to the fence, 30 feet from the track. I still can't see into the back end of the truck. But I get the leather case open because now I know what I'll see.

Now it's all up to me.

The timing has to be perfect.

I edge a little bit closer.

The back of the truck is a canvas sheet, and it's rolled halfway up. From the back of the truck, under the canvas sticks the muzzle of some kind of gun. It's time to start. The leather case holds a movie camera, a little one. I put the viewfinder to my eye. Before I can touch the shutter.

Put the camera down, Mr. Nile.

I'm right behind you.

Corey! Corey, don't stop me. I've got the goods on the guy in the truck. See, it's a compressed air gun from the movie outfit. That's how he doped Laddie, with a dart. I looked all over the track for it, and I couldn't find it. So the movie will be evidence. I'm going to film him right up until the horses get close.

No, you're not.

Pete! Pete!

Pete, over here. What are you doing? Hey, look over here.

At him.

Wait a minute.

You figured it right up to the last detail, and then you made one mistake, Mr.

Nile.

We didn't use a dart. We used a sliver of frozen morphine. It was enough in one slug to stun a horse, but it'd kill a man. And in this nice hot summer weather, the evidence melts away inside.

Get out of my way. Now, Pete, now.

Get him.

Oh, my hand.

Oh, oh.

Why did you do it?

For money. What else?

I thought I was marrying Samson's fortune, and what does he do? Puts me on a peasant's salary.

Who's paying you to.

It's bedtime, Mr. Nile. Have a nice, long sleep.

Harry Nile will return in a moment.

Well stretch one son-in-law harry.

Yeah hope your daughter isn't too busted up over it.

She'll recover how in the world did you recover.

I think i can figure that one out cory's compressed air rifle was supposed to fire that morphine dart into a horse's hide but your hide's a little thinner yeah that's.

Right duck The muzzle velocity was so great the dart hit my hand, you know, the part between the thumb and my index finger, and it went right on through.

Still, you got enough sleep juice to put you out for quite a while.

Oh, you did a terrific job, Harry. When your hand heals, I'm going to put a bonus check in it. Meanwhile, you can hang on to this with the other hand.

What's this?

Just a little souvenir. You're some detective, but you're not much of a cameraman.

What do you mean?

That little movie camera you were going to use to film the proof of your theory? Yeah. You still had this on it. The lens cap.

The Adventures of Harry Nile stars Phil Harper as Harry. Also in tonight's program were Tony Karloff, Wayne Shannon, Bill Swain, Eric McCaig, and Jay Green. Script and direction by Jim French. Engineering by Connie Barton at Audio Recording Incorporated. Music composed and conducted by David Shire. Be with us every Thursday for more contemporary radio drama on Crisis. And next Tuesday night for The Adventures of Harry Nile.

The Adventures of Harry Nile.

San Francisco Bay. The Golden Gate.

And out under that new bridge the next stop west of here, they're talking Japanese. It was just going to be a one-night stand in Frisco, a game or two, and then I was going to pack the pasteboards. But I got sidetracked by a beautiful lady in distress who was willing to make me a thousand dollars happier just for finding out who was stealing from her. A routine case?

Yeah, that's what I thought, too.

But what I figured would be a nice, legit operation turned into a baptism in the bay in a cement suit. And one guy who never knew how to swim was me, Harry Nile.

Harry Nile, hard luck private investigator in the 40s, returns with another tale of action and suspense. In just a moment, Phil Harper stars as Harry Nile in The Neptune Trading Company.

It's a foggy afternoon on San Francisco Bay, and from the top deck of the Sausalito Ferry, Harry Nile looks out at the dim outline of Treasure Island. He never made it to the 1939 World Exposition, and now, in 1942, the island is a naval base. Riding the ferry, with Harry, is an ex-con he sent up to Joliet, Clem Edwards.

Clem seems to be letting bygones be bygones.

Ah, forget Juliet. Harriet, it's water under the bridge. Besides, you were only doing your duty. Now you're one of us.

How do you figure? Well, you quit the police force. I'm still a private eye.

So?

You could be the Pope.

But when you get in a little game of draw, a five-card stud, you're looking to win, right? All I do is improve the odds a little. Eliminate some of the risk of losing. You ain't against that?

I guess not.

Okay, so tonight you stick with me, and by the time the boys will play and get wise, if they ever do, you'll be on the train.

And where will you be?

I don't know.

I follow the Swallows.

Huh?

The Swallows.

Haven't you heard about the Swallows that come back to Capistrano?

No. Beautiful story.

See, there's this mission down the coast called San Juan Capistrano, and every year these guys.

Excuse me, did you see a big man in a black coat come in here a minute ago?

No, I don't think so.

Well, he must have come up here.

Is something wrong, miss?

Oh, I can't lose him. I just can't.

Well.

X-Nay, Harry.

X-Nay. Stay out of it.

Are you in some kind of trouble?

No.

Well, yes. In a way. I've been following a man, and now I've lost him. I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but... Well, I didn't know what else to do. Oh, I'm not making sense, and I interrupted you, and I'm sorry.

Ah, forget it.

Who is this guy? Your husband?

Boyfriend?

Good Lord, no. He works for me, and I have reason to think he's been stealing from me.

Oh, that's why you're following him.

Yes.

Yeah, well, this is none of our business, so why don't we just mosey on downstairs?

This guy you're tailing.

What are you going to do when you spot him?

We'll just follow him and see where he goes.

Well, what will that give you?

Well, then I'll know who's in this with him.

Yeah, you'll know. But suppose you find him. Suppose he meets someone. What have you got then? Well, I....

I haven't thought that far.

Uh-huh. And if you think beyond that point, you might start to realize you need evidence.

You're a policeman, aren't you?

Lawyer poker player come on harry i'm a private investigator well then you've got to help me i already did i told you not to go after this guy alone now any more help and it's going to cost.

You i'm serious please i'll hire you you can't hire me oh nothing goes right just nothing.

Okay give me some facts what's your name what do you.

Do i'm yvonne stacy i operate a little import business in the embarcadero neptune trading.

Company and the guy you think is stealing from you.

Maury valente My husband hired him to be the foreman, but, well, I never trusted him.

Your husband?

Why isn't he the one out here chasing Valenti?

Robert was killed at Pearl Harbor.

Oh.

So, you see, if you don't help me, well, I'm all alone.

Well, we went back down to where it was warm, and she tells me the whole story, which isn't much, really. Most of the imports are from Mexico and Central America, and they're small things, jewelry, novelties, but she's come up several cases short for weeks, and she figures this guy Valetti must be making off with him. So she figures if she tails him, she'll sooner or later see him taking a payoff. I shake my head at her and smile a tolerant smile.

You're smiling.

You've seen too many George Raft movies, Mrs.

Stacy.

It isn't done like that.

Well, that's it, you see? I need you. Please say you'll help me.

Oh, yeah. Listen, Clem, about the game tonight. Can I have a rain check?

The pigeons don't give rain checks, dummy.

I thought you were talking about swallows.

All right.

Go play Dick Tracy. Opportunity ain't gonna knock twice, Jerry. See you around.

Your friend could kill me.

Plan? Nah. Licensing is his game, not homicide. Now, suppose you put me on your payroll. I get $ 50 a day in expenses.

That's fine.

Minimum fee, $ 100. Fine. Okay, I guess I'm working for you. Now, this guy Valetti, you're sure he was on this ferry boat?

I'm positive.

Does he know you're tailing him?

No.

Well, I don't think so.

Okay, describe him.

He's six feet tall, weighs over 200, black curly hair, very well built.

And wearing a black coat. Well, when we get into the dock at Sausalito, I'll look for him. The last passenger leaves the ferry, and there's no sign of Valetti. Yvonne Stacy looks defeated. Hey, we lost the battle. We didn't lose the war.

But we lost Maury Valetti.

Not if we play it close to the vest and keep him from knowing we suspect him. Come on, I'll buy you a cup of hot clam juice. At the little waterfront cafe, I found out a lot more about my new boss. She's 30, and she's too stubborn to sell the business, and she's very pretty. Soft blonde curls, wide-set gray eyes, and a small, saucy mouth. We miss a couple of fairies until it's pitch black outside, and the blackout curtains are pulled over the windows of the cafe.

Harry, we'd better get back to Frisco.

Yeah, I guess we better.

Where are you staying?

In your warehouse.

All night?

Sure.

I guess you have to at that. But it's going to be awfully cold.

It's part of the job.

Uh-oh.

Come on, last ferry.

It's late when we get into San Francisco and we pile into Yvonne's LaSalle and she drives me down to the warehouse on the Embarcadero.

It's foggy and cold as she unlocks the door.

Harry, I'll be in first thing in the morning.

Good.

Harry, do you have a gun?

Sure.

Sure.

Oh, that's good.

I hope you won't have to use it, but it's better to have one.

Well, good night.

Good night.

Don't freeze.

Try not to.

Here.

Just for luck.

Her lips were suddenly there, softer and warmer than I thought they'd be. And I'd been thinking they looked very soft and warm. And then she was back in the car and gone, and I was alone. Alone in a strange warehouse full of funny smells and the fog rolled by outside. And I was suddenly sad. Across the Pacific were a lot of guys facing two choices. Hardship if they lived and a sandy grave if they didn't. But what they're doing adds up to something so important it makes guarding a warehouse seem like a kid's game. What am I doing pacing around big islands at junk jewelry at 50 bucks a day with nobody shooting at me?

some hero i spend the first hour kicking myself and i try on all the good reasons why i'm not in the service i'm a little low in energy and high in blood pressure and most of all they don't want blacklisted cops and that's what i am for blowing the whistle on the wrong lieutenant chicago's finest turned me out the whole rotten mess rises up in my memory and i sit on a packing crate and think but not for long oh my last thought how did he get in without my hearing him And why did he slug me so hard?

You're listening to the Neptune Trading Company. And now, back to Harry Nile. Harry Nile.

When I get back on my feet and the fireflies stop chasing each other through my brain, I make a beeline for the front warehouse door to see how my attacker got in. There's no splintered wood, and I think I'd have heard him pick the lock, so somebody with a key must have done it. Whether he helped himself to any merchandise while I was unconscious, I don't know.

I couldn't have been out more than a couple of minutes, so I take a look up and down the Embarcadero, but it's deserted. The night air feels good. What I want right now is some cold water to run over the lump on my head. The little office of the Neptune Trading Company is right next door to the warehouse.

The door has a very old-fashioned lock, so I take the opportunity to let myself in. There's not much inside. A couple of desks, filing cabinets, all pretty beat up. There's a restroom in the back, and when I get a wet towel around my head, I decide why waste the opportunity. So I help myself to a look in those files, which is what I'm doing, when suddenly the door opens. The silhouette in the doorway goes a good six feet tall, and at the shoulders he's got to be four feet wide.

As he moves at me, I don't need to be introduced. This must be Maury Valetti.

I sidestep the first lunge at me, and he slams into the door of the john. When he spins around, I kick a swivel chair at him, which catches him at the knees. And while he's thinking about that, I decide to show him my artillery.

So I reach for it, and it's gone.

Maury's getting up a full head of steam now, and I reach for the only weapon I've got, a hat rack.

I'll get it.

I'll get it.

Cut it out.

I give.

All right, boy.

Let's take five, and you tell me how many teeth you want to save.

I ought to murder you.

And you could do it, too, only I'm not going to let you.

Who are you?

How come you know my name?

I'm Harry Nile, and I know who you are because your boss introduced us.

What are you talking about? I've never seen you before.

Yvonne told me so much about you, I feel like I know you, Maury.

And what I don't know, I can guess.

Like who it was who let himself into the warehouse and slugged me from behind and took my gun.

Incidentally, Maury, I'll have it back now. Wait a minute, wait a minute. I ain't getting any of this. You know Vonnie.

That's right. Oh, Vonnie.

What'd she tell you about me?

She's on to your little burglary game.

What are you talking about? I never stole nothing from her in my whole life. Hey, who are you anyway?

Short attention span, Maury. I told you. I'm Harry Nile.

Yes, so?

I'm a private detective.

You still ain't got no right to be in this office.

Let me ask you, what are you doing down here at, what is.

It, three in the morning?

I come by to see everything's okay. Yeah, I think that's a lovely story. Let's see if Yvonne will buy it. And while I'm dialing, put my gun on the desk there.

I ain't seen your gun. Hey, hey, can I get up now?

I don't know. I kind of like seeing you wrapped around a hat rack.

Let's see what Vonnie says.

I get Yvonne on the phone, and she says to sit tight while she gets the cops. She worked pretty fast, because inside of ten minutes, the place is swarming with them, and they take Maury away, and I feel pretty good, considering I still have a headache. That is, until the plainclothes guy beckons me out to his squad car. Okay, hot shot.

Let's see your ID.

What is this, the Army? You know who I am.

Mrs.

Stacy told me that inside. Get it out. Come on, get it out.

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

All right, here.

Well, that's very pretty.

You're 4F, and you got a license to drive. Now, how about a license to work in the city of San Francisco?

I gotta have a license to help out a friend?

Mrs.

Stacy called you a private detective.

Yeah?

So?

If you call yourself a private detective and you don't have the piece of paper, you're in trouble.

Okay.

I'm a Sunday school teacher.

Listen, Mr.

Nile, word of advice. There's an island out there in the bay called Alcatraz. It's just filled with Sunday school teachers like you.

Since when is it a federal offense to help catch a crook?

Just remember, Nile, you've been warned.

Harry, what did Jacob say to you?

Jacobs?

Oh, the cop.

He gave me the ten-cent lecture on keeping out of trouble.

How's your head feeling now?

Almost normal.

That was a brave thing, fighting Valenti. He could have killed you.

Yeah, especially since he had my gun, which reminds me I'm going to have to get that back.

Wait a minute. Before you go, I owe you some money.

Not yet.

But you got Valenti taken care of, and that's what I hired you for.

I'm not at all sure he's taken care of.

Where are you going?

I'll be back, Yvonne.

Things had started hopping around in my brain like Mexican jumping beans, and I had to sort them out. So I figured the best place to start was with Maury Valetti. I'd just finished booking him when I showed up at the jail.

What are you doing here?

I want to talk to Valetti.

Why?

I got a couple of questions.

They can wait.

Come on.

He sees no one, unless you're his attorney. All right, look, did you find a gun on him? No, I didn't find a gun.

You didn't say he had a gun.

No.

No, he didn't.

Look, let me talk to him. I don't even care if you listen in.

Well, all right.

Down in the one on the right.

Five minutes, Nile.

Thanks. Valenti? What do you want? Well, I figure by now you might want to tell me everything you know about Yvonne Stacy and her Neptune trading company.

I get lost.

For what it's worth, Maury, I think you and I both have been played for suckers.

I don't know.

Maury, tell me honestly. Why did you come down to the office at 3 a.m.

This morning?

Oh, Vonnie called me up. Told me there was a guy in the warehouse. Said I had to go down and take a look, so I went down. I found the warehouse door open. I looked around inside. I didn't see no one, so that's when I went next door and found you prowling the office.

Sure.

It wasn't you that slugged me. It was someone else.

I told you that.

I was supposed to be out long enough for whoever it was to take my gun and shoot.

You when you came into the warehouse.

What?

Me?

Yeah, and that way, Vonnie gets rid of you, the cops take me, and Vonnie's company gets the insurance on all the stuff you supposedly stole out of her warehouse.

Only I never stole nothing, I told you.

That's right, Maury, and I believe you.

Why would Vonnie do a thing like that?

The insurance money, Maury. We were both set up.

She needed me to get rid of you.

Why would she want to get rid of me? She was... Well, she and.

Me, we.

Maury, you wouldn't happen to know the name of the insurance agent who handles the policy on Neptune Trading Company, would you?

Oh, gee, no, no, Vani, she never talked much about that.

Okay, I'm going to find out. And I'll be back and get you out of here.

Harry, you're back.

Good.

Yeah, hi. I wanted to come back and try to help you put the office back in shape. I'm afraid when Maury and I had our little fight, I scattered the files all over everywhere.

Well, that's all right.

I've almost got them put back in order now.

But I'm wondering, Harry... What were you doing in the office, anyway?

Well, after I got conked on the head, I wanted to get some cold water for the lump. Hope you don't mind. Lockpicking something I picked up from an old client of mine.

No, no, I don't mind. I just wondered.

And then I saw your files, and being a trained snoop, I just had to take a look. And you know what I found? Ever since the war, business is lousy, right? So lousy you haven't sold 200 bucks worth of those knickknacks a month for a year. But the good part is, you've got everything insured against fire and theft.

But the insurance.

Company won't pay off on the stolen stuff until they're sure it's really stolen. So you arrange to give him a suspect, a dead one, and Valenti's elected. And then you need someone to blame Valenti's death on, and I'm elected. How am I doing?

This isn't funny.

So you set me up in the warehouse when you found out I carry a gun. Then you called up Valenti and told him there was a prowler in the warehouse, so he comes right down. But there was a third person here last night who wasn't there. Someone who knocked me out and took my gun. Someone who was supposed to wait until Valenti got there and then kill him.

Who was it, Fonny?

Was it you?

I was home all night from the time I left you. And I can prove it.

Then it has to be somebody I've never met. Wrong, Harry.

Clem, you've been in the John all this time? You ought to see a doctor.

Funny, funny.

Clem, I told you to stay in there and keep quiet.

Nah, Fonny, it's too late. He'd have found out. Don't move, Harry. This is your gun, and it's loaded.

So, the invitation to the card game, the ride on the ferry, Vonnie's just happening to bump into me.

All set up, Harry, just for you.

Clem, one mistake is enough. Now what do we do?

My timing was off last night. All right, but don't worry. Harry ain't going nowhere till his little voyage tonight.

So now it all comes clear why an ex-con I'd set up would be so palsy-welsy with me now. Clem gives Vonnie my gun and he ties me up butt good and shoves me into the restroom where I spend the longest afternoon of my life, listening through the door while the preparations are being made for my murder. It's about 8 o'clock when Vonnie and Clem cram into the trunk of the LaSalle and drive through the San Francisco fog.

I don't know the city, so I haven't any idea where we are when they finally pull off the road and stop. The fog envelops everything like a shroud, but I can tell one thing. The water is close by and a long way below us.

All right, Harry.

Climb out of there.

Wait a minute. I'm going to cramp in my legs.

Hurry it up, Clint.

Look, I'm going to wait in the car.

Go ahead.

This won't take a minute.

Now, Harry, we're on a bluff over the bay, and I don't want you to float away on me when you hit the water, so I've got a block of cement here with cables coming out of it. Now, you're going to wrap them around your legs nice and tight.

Oh, come on. Clem, you're a thief, maybe, but you're no murderer.

I'm a guy with a long memory, copper. You owe me years of my life.

And you figure killing me is going to give you back those years?

Never mind the way I figure. You just get busy wrapping those wires around your legs. Come on, move it.

Well, okay.

I think I ought to tell you something, Clem. I was busy this morning.

Shut up and keep working.

I'm just trying to warn you. If you should change your mind now, maybe... I.

Said shut up!

Okay.

Okay, Jacobs.

Hit him!

Come on, get him!

I love this, Nile. I love to see you like this.

Well, I tried.

Now move. Over to your right. You are a lot bigger than I am, and I don't want to have to haul your carcass over the edge of the cliff.

Move.

Yeah, that's good. Now turn around. I want you back to the bay.

Okay, Nile.

What's so funny? Life, Clem. The way things work out.

Yeah?

Well, so long, now.

Hang on, Jacobs.

Come on, I'm trying to help you.

No, I'm not Jacobs.

Ready?

Valenti!

And when I finish with him, I'm gonna get funny.

Hey, hey, come on, come on.

Take it easy, Murray.

You've done enough.

Leave something for the police to handle. It kind of reminded me, when it was all over, of a story I heard once when I was a kid. Something about a lion that remembered the kid that took a thorn out of his paw. Well, Maury Valente wasn't exactly a lion, and maybe he wanted revenge more than he cared about saving my life. But it worked out just fine anyway.

Yvonne gave up, Clem was in no shape to resist, and the four of us rode down to the police station in the LaSalle. I got my gun back, and the insurance company said there'd be a check in the mail for helping him prove a bum claim. I told them to forget the check. It's Cash or nothing for Harry Nile.

Tonight, Phil Harper as Harry Nile in The Neptune Trading Company. Featured in our cast were Pat French as Yvonne, Neil Reese as Clem, Paul Herlinger as Valenti, and Norm Bobrow as Jacobs. Sound created by Jeff Thompson. Engineering by Carney Barton. Produced at Audio Recording Incorporated.

The Adventures of Harry Nile.

There are some things, Mr. Nile, that a man will do and some things that he will not do. I'm afraid my wife is going to find out exactly what my limits are.

He was standing up when he said it. And even though we were in Beverly Hills and it was one of those gold and green sun-drenched Sundays, for a second I knew what his men must have felt back in France in 1918. The man was a leader, six and a half feet tall, straight as a ramrod, with armor-piercing blue eyes. His tweed jacket could have been a major's uniform.

And the jut of his jaw could have signaled the start of an Allied offensive. But it was a peaceful day in 1941. What John David Heller was talking about was honor. The honor of a man who has just been betrayed. I'm not an emotional man, Mr.

Nihal.

I've always handled every crisis in my life without help from anyone else, but... But I'm smart enough to know there are times when you call in the specialist, and Asher assures me that you are that man.

I think I know what to do.

Yes.

Lord, what a rotten thing to be doing. Conspiring with someone I scarcely know on how best to ferret out my wife's secret life.

Major, it's like I told you. We have to get evidence on activities.

I know all about that.

I agree.

The best defense is a strong offense. It's what I've been preaching for 23 years, not that anyone in Washington pays any attention to it. Oh, well, we're talking about divorce, not defense.

Major, if you could give me a list of the people she knows and the things she does with her free time.

Free time. That's just it. I thought I knew what she did with her free time, but obviously I didn't.

You don't have to do it this minute, Major. Why don't you let Harry get back to town and I'll help you with the list?

Yeah, we don't want Mrs. Heller walking in and seeing me here.

Thank you for coming, Mr.

Nile.

Pleasure meeting you, Major.

I'll walk out with you, Harry. Be right back, Major.

Fine, Marvin.

Take your time.

See what I told you, Harry?

Yeah.

Discretion. Blow this and I lose a bundle, not to mention a very big-name client.

I'm not going to blow it, Marvin. You really shouldn't chew your fingernails, you know it? Doesn't go with the Brooks Brothers suit.

Just be careful. You don't know Susan.

The wife?

Yeah.

Ah, well, you tell the Major that if his wife is catting around on him, I'll get the goods on her and he won't lose it all on alimony when he gets into court.

Good boy. Now, you need anything, just give me a holler.

Like money?

Oh, I almost forgot. Here's his hundred bucks advance. Like you said.

Way to go.

I'll give you all the information tomorrow.

Yeah, it's better I don't meet Heller again. Wifey might get suspicious. Well, thanks for the business, Marv.

If it were possible to whistle and smile all at the same time, Harry would do it. The hundred dollars is a solid, flat package near to Harry's heart.

The job is routine and safe. The client cooperatives.

And the clientele should be interesting to observe, coming as it does from such a stronghold of respectable wealth as a mansion in Beverly Hills, standing proudly in a line with all the others, stoutly pretending that within such polished elegance people do not cheat or lie or stoop to all the other sins to which mankind subscribes. But Harry knows better and depends on the universality of misbehavior. For without it, where would he be? This investigator named Harry Nile.

Phil Harper returns as Harry Nile with special guest star Bill Macy in The Wandering Wife Matters.

How come a private detective like me, who specializes in starvation, gets a client from who's who? I ask myself that. It's because there really is some harmony in the universe after all. And every now and then a good thing has to come my way, or the tides won't rise and paint won't dry. That louses up all the laws of nature. Well, June 18th, 1941 goes down in my calendar as a good day. My lawyer friend Marvin calls me to meet him in the home of John D. Heller, who turns out to be a flying hero from the war days in France. He's having trouble with his wife, a lady several years younger who is having trouble remembering who gave her the wedding ring she wears. My job is to find out who the new man in her

life is and get enough evidence on her so she can't claim too big a slice of Heller's estate when he takes her to court. The heady stuff of which a private eye's life is made. The day after I meet Heller, Marvin drops over with a background on Susan... The straying wife.

The guy to watch is Spencer Boyle.

Yeah, I see the old man's got quite a rundown on him.

He doesn't like him for a lot of reasons other than the possibility he's seeing Susan.

Oh?

The Major's got a one-track mind about national preparedness, and Boyle is a pacifist.

Oh, yeah. Heller mentioned something yesterday about the best defense is a strong offense. I don't know whether he's talking politics or football.

Oh, don't get him on the subject of politics. He'll talk your arm off.

Listen, where's his wife this morning?

At home.

Know anything about her plans for the day?

No.

Nobody can predict Susan.

Okay, I better get over there.

Be discreet.

Listen, when I'm staked out, I turn invisible. That's the one benefit of looking like Joe Average. The first day following, Mrs. Susan Heller went pretty much like I expected. 10.30, drives to Las Palmas Beauty Salon. 11.30, emerges looking like Carol Lombard. Only more so. Drives along to Alexis Cafe on the Strip.

Has a Manhattan.

Alone.

And at 12.15, Spencer Boyle shows up. She's closer to Susan's age than her husband is. I'd say maybe 35. Rich, smooth, athletic. I kiss, hold hands, have another cocktail, order lunch, smooch some more. Then I get up to leave. I leave Susan's new Dodge in the lot, venture west to sunset and boil supercharged cord. Top is down and she's making no attempt to act platonic. I cruise along slow, her blonde hairdo getting blown to pieces in the fresh breeze.

And it's a kiss at every stoplight until I'm out of film. But I've got enough shots of this pair to convince a jury of flinty-eyed skeptics that Mrs. Heller is up to no good. Boyle turns right at Topanga Canyon, and in a few minutes he pulls into a driveway of a house buried somewhere in the middle of an estate that looks like a national park. An electric gate opens, the cord rolls in, the gate closes, and I'm outside watching the black convertible disappear up a curving drive lined with eucalyptus. A brick wall eight feet high surrounds the grounds.

A pair of Dobermans catch my scent and start sounding off, so I retreat before their master gets wise. It's not that far back to Beverly Hills, so I detour. Stop off at Major Heller's place. Expecting a butler to answer my ring, but.

It's a gal.

Petite.

Dark hair pulled up into a bun. Horn-rimmed glasses. Very little makeup.

Oh, Mr.

Nile.

The Major said he'd met you. He's out for a few minutes, but I'm sure he'd want to see you. Come in. I'm Miss Jenkins. I'm the Major's secretary.

Nice to meet you.

You might enjoy waiting in the trophy room.

Trophy room?

It's where the Major keeps some of his mementos.

Here we are.

Go right in.

Oh, I see what you mean.

This case has his complete flying uniform that he wore when he became an ace. He shot down seven German planes. Here's a picture of him being decorated by General Pershing.

Who's the woman in this picture?

Oh, that's his wife, his first wife. She died in 1930.

What does the Major do?

Oh, he's busy writing, speaking. He travels all over giving speeches. Surely you've read some of his arguments for a stronger air arm for the Army and Navy?

Well, I don't know.

Oh, Niall.

Oh, hello, Major Heller. What brings you here? I wasn't too far away. Topanga Canyon.

Oh, Miss Jenkins, would you like to put on a pot of tea?

Certainly, Major.

I'll serve it in here.

Topanga Canyon. She was with Boyle.

Yeah.

Did you get pictures?

Yeah, at the restaurant and in the car. But not at his house. No, I couldn't get in. I'll have to figure a way around his watch dodge.

Boyle's all in favor of defending his own property, but he's one of our bleeding-heart pacifists who want to let Hitler and his crowd carve up Europe. I think she chose him just because she knew how I detest his kind of cowardice.

Uh-huh. It says here on this schedule that Asher gave me that your wife is going to be at some kind of ball tonight.

A charity ball, yes. She's on the decoration committee. You ought to be there. Boyle will be.

He will?

Yes.

She invited him. He represents something called the World Unity Fellowship. Some pacifist bunch. Anyway, it's at the country club at nine o'clock black tie and be sure to bring your little camera.

I'm parked across the street from the club when susan heller drives up in her own car a couple of minutes later the cord pulls up and boyle gets out the attendant parks his car for him and i sought her into the ballroom in my reddit outfit heller isn't around yet all of a sudden i see a friendly.

Face hello mr nile You don't recognize me.

Miss Jenkins. Your hair done up, glasses off, and what else have you done to yourself?

Oh, nothing much. The Major wanted me here.

Oh, and you're on duty.

Sort of.

That's too bad.

Why do you say that?

I was going to ask you to dance. Go ahead.

All right, I will. Wait a minute.

Here comes Mrs.

Heller.

Well, Jenkins, how nice you look.

Thank you, Mrs.

Heller.

And this must be your escort.

Oh, this is.

Sullivan's the name, Mrs.

Heller.

Nice party you got here.

Oh, yes.

Jenkins, let me borrow Mr.

Sullivan for a turn around the floor, will you? Major hates to dance and I love to.

Do you mind, Mr.

Sullivan?

Oh, no, no, no, no. My pleasure.

You look familiar to me, Mr.

Sullivan.

Didn't I see you with Alexis this afternoon? And didn't you follow me for a while afterwards? Just what is it you want, Mr.

Sullivan?

Another photograph?

Didn't the ones you took today turn out?

Nothing shy about you, is there, Mrs. Heller?

I suppose my husband hired you to shadow me. Well, let me save you some trouble. Yes, Spencer Boyle and I see each other. I admire his work. I believe in what he's trying to do. My husband, of course, hates him for the same reasons. But if you hope you're going to catch us in a compromising situation, Mr.

Sullivan.

You are going to shoot a lot of film before you do. Now, dance me back to Miss Jenkins and have a wonderful time. And when my husband shows up, if he ever does, tell him I'm flattered that he'd spend some of his precious money on having me followed.

She stalks away from me, tall, gorgeous, and cold as ice.

For the rest of the evening, she was very visible, laughing and dancing and behaving like a popular.

And proper wife.

It's no good. She's on to you, Nile.

I'm sorry about that, Major.

My wife is treacherous, but I never said she wasn't clever. Well, I don't know about you, Nile, but I'm going to go home and go to bed.

Well, my usefulness to Major Heller was entered, I figured. Susan had pegged me as a snooping private eye, and she and her boyfriend would be on the lookout for me from now on. So I left the dance, too, and figured I'd be getting a call in the morning from Asher dismissing me from the case. I was half right about that. A call from Asher comes in the morning.

Two o'clock in the morning, to be exact. But it's not what I'm expecting.

Get yourself dressed and get over here to the Heller's right now.

Marvin, this is no hour in the morning to sound like Attila the Hun.

Listen to me, Harry. The police are here.

What are they doing there?

They seem to think our client has just murdered his wife.

It's dark and quiet up and down the winding Beverly Hills street where the Heller mansion stands. Except the mansion itself and the driveway that curls up to it. A parade of black Ford sedans stretches from the curb up to the house, and every light in the joint is blazing. A blue coat doesn't like me on sight, but lets me in the front door anyway when I say the magic words.

Lieutenant Dutcher!

In a minute, Harry.

Dutcher, as Major Heller's attorney, I have the right to investigate my client's story the same as you have.

Sure you do, Counselor.

That's why I called Mr.

Nile.

He's had Mrs. Heller under surveillance all night long.

That figures.

I'm Marvin.

And I fully intend to use anything it can tell us to see that justice is done.

Well, thank you, Counselor. I can hardly wait to hear what your surveillance has turned up.

Tell him, Harry.

Wait a minute, Marvin.

First, you tell me what's happened.

Well, it seems that someone... It seems that someone took an Army. 45 and drilled Mrs. Heller and a guy named Boyle.

Both of them?

Where?

Right here in the house?

No, Little Lover's Lane out in Topanga Canyon. I thought you were tailing her. I figured you could tell us all about it, like the counselor says.

Where were you, Harry?

I thought you.

Lieutenant, do you want to talk to Mr. Nile in private? Sure.

Here's another room. There must be 50 of them in this joint.

Come with me, Harry. I thought you were tailing her. I thought you were at the dance.

I was until around midnight.

What happens at midnight?

You turn back into a pumpkin?

The old man told me I could leave.

Heller told you you could leave?

Yeah.

He said he was... Anyway, she found out I was tailing her.

Great. And Heller told you to leave the country club?

Well, what he said was, I don't know about you, but I'm going to go home.

Don't tell Dutch of that.

Looks kind of bad for the Major, huh?

Everybody in creation knew he was fed up to here with his wife. That gives him a classy motive. Now you tell me he had the opportunity.

And what about the weapon?

That's another thing.

Ballistics is going to try to prove it was one of his from his World War collection.

Well, is it? Yeah.

Beautiful.

Beautiful. Why did you leave her?

I told you there was nothing to be gained from staying at the dance.

She nailed me, defied me to ever catch her and boil.

In a compromising situation.

In other words, you blew it.

Yeah, I guess I blew it.

Super.

I'm sorry. But it isn't in my contract to prevent killings, you know.

But if you....

Eh, forget it. Where's the Major?

Dutch has got him in the trophy room.

I want to get filled in on exactly what they found.

Yeah, Dutcher will tell you.

Hey, Dutcher?

Yeah?

Yeah?

Well, maybe I can help a little. Oh, I got news for you, Harry. We don't need help. If ever there was an open and shutter, this one's it.

Oh?

Did Heller confess?

No, he didn't confess, but it won't matter. We know what he did, how he did it, and why he did it.

Yeah, you're probably right, Dutch. But how about filling me in anyway?

Okay. Wait a minute. Can we do this so my client can hear this? He has a right to know it.

All right, all right.

Let's get down to the trophy room if I can find it. I never saw such a place like the Biltmore Hotel.

It's this way.

I'm following you.

How you been, Harry?

Keeping out of trouble.

Making lots of money?

Oh, yeah, sure.

I'm rolling in it.

Then why don't you buy yourself a new suit? They got shirts with built-in collars and everything nowadays.

Here we are.

Yeah, Curtis, you can take a break for a while. We'll watch him. I suppose you all know each other, right?

Hello, Nile. Hello, Mr.

Nile. Hello, Major. Miss Jenkins.

Your counselor here wants to be in on this, Major.

Mr.

Nile may be able to help us, Major. I want him to hear what happened from everybody's viewpoint.

Well, it won't take long for my story. I came home from the country club, as Mr. Nile knows, about midnight. My wife wasn't here. I had a short nightcap and went to bed.

You can prove that?

You have a witness?

No, I can't prove it, and I don't have any witnesses. The house was empty when I came home.

So when was the last time you saw your wife?

At the country club around midnight.

You sticking to that story, Major?

I'm afraid it's the only one I've got.

What have you got, Dutcher?

Well, down in the ravine in Topanga Canyon, there's a car. See, one of those cords with the flip-up headlights. And someone driving past sees the headlights shining and goes down and finds Mrs. Heller and Mr. Boyle in the car, both shot. Our squad arrives. We find a big Army. 45 automatic on the floor of the car.

Murder-suicide.

I knew you'd say that, dummy. Both victims have been shot from the back.

And the mere fact that the Hellers were having marital troubles isn't anywhere near enough grounds to warrant any.

Keep your water cool, Counselor. Nobody's been charged yet.

What time were the bodies found?

Right about one o'clock in the morning. Just a second.

Yeah?

Yeah?

Thanks.

Major Heller, I'm going to give you one more chance to confess and tell me all about it.

I'm not confessing to something I didn't do. Major, please.

You haven't any right to speak to him that way.

I've got the right, and I'm trying to make it easier on him.

Come on, Dutcher.

What did the guy at the door tell you?

He told me that the slugs that killed Susan Heller and Spencer Boyle were fired from a. 45 automatic registered to Major John D. Heller of this address.

I wanted to tell you my automatic was missing, but Asher wouldn't let me.

That it was your gun.

My gun is missing.

It belonged over there in that case along with the other trophies.

When did you first notice it was missing?

When they told me Susan had been shot. I was in here and I saw the gun was gone.

How do you think it got out of here?

Well, someone took it.

Well, I think we've all talked this over plenty now. You ready to come downtown with me, Major?

Wait a minute. Now, hold the phone. Dutcher, let's say Major Heller killed his wife in Boyle. Now, that means he followed him to the lover's lane in his own car and then came back again, right?

Right.

Where's your car, Major?

Down in the garage.

What do you say we all go down to the garage, okay?

Already been down here, Harry.

Well, what do we see here? Two cars, a Lincoln and a Dodge. Whose car is the Lincoln, Major?

Mine.

And the Dodge is, uh, was your wife's?

I'm surprised at you, Harry. We've already tried the old radiator trick. They're both warm.

Oh, sure.

They were both driven tonight because the Hellers went to the country club in separate cars. Now, dance is over. Major Heller drives home in his Lincoln, but his wife hadn't left the dance. But the next thing we know, she turns up dead in Spencer Boyle's cord. Now, how did her Dodge get back home?

Helmer switched cars. He got out of his car and took hers to follow them.

Well, why would he do that? And run the risk of losing them?

I don't know.

Ask him.

Did you or anyone else get in the Dodge, Dutcher?

I don't think so. Mind if I do?

Okay.

Sitting behind the wheel.

So what's so interesting under the seat?

Just checking something. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Now, change places with me, Major.

Come here.

You sit behind the wheel.

I don't know what any of this will prove, but.

Well, the seat's too far up.

Don't touch it.

Leave the seat right where it is.

I can't get my knees under the steering wheel.

Oh, sure you can't. How tall is... How tall was your.

Wife, Major?

She was pretty tall for a woman.

Five-nine.

Five-nine. All right, Major, thank you. You can slide out now.

Would you please tell me what you're doing here?

Well, let's see. It was small enough to fit behind the wheel.

Thatcher?

Thatcher? Now, now, you're out. Marvin, you're out. Ah, Miss Jenkins.

What?

Now, just for a second here. Slip in the front seat of the Dodge here, will you? That nice new convertible, fluid drive and all.

Really?

I don't see what.

No, no, just a demonstration. Just for a second.

Well, there.

Is this all you wanted?

Yes, Miss Jenkins, that's fine.

That's good, doesn't it? The seat all the way up?

Could I get out now?

See, Dutcher, there's.

Another way this could have happened.

I'm going to get out now.

No, no, no, no.

Stay there.

Now, here's my idea for what it's worth.

It's midnight. I leave the dance. Major Heller leaves. Susan and Boyle are still there. They come in separate cars. Boyle drives out in his cord. And Susan Heller follows out in her car, this car. They rendezvous at that lover's lane in Topanga Canyon. She gets out and she gets into Boyle's car. They're worried. They're all alone.

Except for someone following them.

Nobody followed him.

What do you mean nobody followed him? The killer followed him.

The killer was in this car.

What's that?

Hiding in the back seat. With a big 45 automatic.

In that little back seat? Not on your life.

Maybe not in the back seat. Maybe on the floor between the seats.

Only a tiny little.

Yes, you were saying?

Can I get out now?

Only a very tiny.

Person would fit in behind the front and back seats. But it could work. And when Susan gets out of her car, this little tiny person slips out of the back seat, crawls out of the car, and bang, bang. Then this tiny person gets in the Dodge to drive it back here, but has.

To move the seat all the way up, or she won't be able to reach the pedals.

Oh, no.

I only did it for you, Major.

Jenkins.

I only did it for you.

Jenkins.

Get a hold of her, Harry.

I only did it for you. Yeah, I got her. Come on, honey.

Honey.

I only did it for you.

The armor-piercing blue eyes of Major John David Heller will lose their hurt looks someday. And being a disciplined man, he'll turn his energies to his first real love, the defense of his country. Asher thinks I'm a genius. Thatcher actually grinned at me. And I guess I'll lay low for a while, waiting for my luck to turn back to its usual dismal condition. For now, I've got a couple hundred bucks in the bank, and I'd be feeling on top of the world this summer of 1941 if it weren't for the memory of the Jenkins girl.

The stricken look in her eyes, the hopeless cry.

And I remember one other thing. I never even knew her first name.

The Adventures of Harry Nile are created and produced by Jim French and feature Phil Harper as Harry. Tonight, our special guest star was Bill Macy, who played Major Heller. Also in the cast were Jay Green, Pat French, Larry Buck, and Sherry Ross as Jenkins. Music composed and conducted by David Shire. Engineering by Carney Barton at Audio Recording Incorporated.

Be with us again next time for the adventures of Harry Nile.

Thank you.

Like a shroud. But I can tell one thing. The water is close by. And a long way below us.

All right, Harry.

Climb out of there.

Wait a minute.

I'm going to cramp in my legs.

Hurry it up, Clint. Look, I'm going to wait in the car.

Go ahead.

This won't take a minute. Now, Harry, we're on a bluff over the bay. And I don't want you to float away on me when you hit the water. So I got a block of cement here with cables coming out of it. Now you're going to wrap them around your legs nice and tight.

Oh, come on, Clem. You're a thief, maybe, but you're no murderer.

I'm a guy with a long memory, copper. You owe me years of my life.

And you figure killing me is going to give you back those years? Never mind the.

Way I figure. You just get busy wrapping those wires around your legs. Come on, move it.

Well, okay.

I think I ought to tell you something, Clem. I was busy this morning.

Shut up and keep working.

I'm just trying to warn you.

If you should change your mind now, maybe... I.

Said shut up!

Okay.

Okay, Jacobs.

Hit it!

Come on, get it!

I love this, Niall. I love to see you like this.

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