Broadway Is My Beat

Broadway Is My Beat : Murphy's Outlaw

Freitag, 16. Oktober 2026 · 1 h 19

MP3

Shownotes

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!

Transkriptvom Podcast bereitgestellt · Zeitmarken springen hin

The Adventures of Harry Nile.

Harry Nile Investigations. Good morning.

It's me, Murphy.

I'm at Harborview.

Harborview?

What are you doing at the hospital?

I'm in the hospital.

In a bed.

Harry, what happened?

Well, let's just say that now I know how a bug feels when it hits a windshield.

Oh my gosh, you got hit by a car?

A truck. Get over here as fast as you can before I go nighty-night.

What?

Well, they gave me a shot for the pain, but I've got some stuff to tell you while I'm still coherent.

I'll be right there.

I'd been in Harborview a couple of years before, recovering from a gunshot wound. That happened as I was wrapping up a case. This time, the case is just beginning, and Murphy's Law is in effect. Everything that can go wrong does go wrong. That's why I call this case Murphy's Outlaw. Hang around, you'll see what I mean.

Harry? Arthur, are you?

Oh, Harry, what happened?

I guess I won't be tap dancing for a while.

You're all bandaged up.

I have broken legs, strained back, possible internal injuries... Listen, you know that little client we got a couple of weeks ago, that furniture manufacturer in Spokane?

Harry, what happened?

I got hit by a truck. Now, you know that Spokane guy who builds furniture?

Yeah, McPeter's Furniture, but what.

Yeah, they import Philippine mahogany and it comes through the Port of Seattle and gets trucked over to their Spokane factory.

I see, but Harry, what.

Well, this wood is expensive stuff. He orders it from the Philippines. 48 20-foot planks in each load.

Harry, how did you get all banged up?

I'm coming to that. I'm coming to that. See... The last two shipments came through with one timber missing both times, so McPeters wires Manila, and they wire back and say they put 48 pieces aboard the ship, and the ship records say they unloaded 48, but when the freight line picks it up a day later here on the dock in Seattle, it loads down to 47 pieces both times.

And you call the Longshoremen's Union?

Yeah, and the Port Police, and they say they hadn't seen anybody sneaking a 20-foot timber out of the yard under his coat.

Seriously, who would want to steal a plank?

Exactly.

So.

Last night, the last shipment was due in, I went down to the dock to look around.

And?

Well, I watched him unload the mahogany, all strapped together, sling it down on the dock, and there sure were 48 20-foot planks, just like he ordered, but while I was counting them, this truck eases up behind me, headlights off, shoves me right into the stack of mahogany, then backs off and drives away.

Oh, that's terrible. Was it on purpose?

You kidding?

The guy aimed right for me while I was, had my back turned. He hits me, takes off.

Did anyone see it happen?

No.

I started hollering, and a longshoreman found me, called an ambulance. The port police asked me to describe the truck, but I couldn't, so here I am with a busted leg and a lump on my head and maybe some internal injuries. I'm lucky my back wasn't broken. Listen, Murphy, go back to the office, get the McPeters file, call Bruce McPeters and tell him what happened, will you?

Sure.

Tell him 48 planks of mahogany came off the boat, but I'm not going to be able to follow up on it.

Tell him.

Tell him I'm going to be out of action for six weeks at least. So I'll refer him to another agency if he likes.

Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry.

Oh, and listen, Murph.

What is it?

With, uh, there's no money coming in. I, uh, I'm sorry. I don't know how I'm going to pay you.

Oh, don't worry about that. You, you just get well.

So you say he'll be out of action for six weeks?

I'm afraid so, Mr.

Peters.

I'm sorry to hear it.

But I've got to get to the bottom of this before then. That mahogany that came in last night is due here in Spokane tomorrow. You see, I've got a big order to build custom office furniture by a certain date, and I had to bid real low to get it. So if I don't get all the wood I paid for, I'll lose money on the deal. Plus, I've got to pay a detective.

Well, I understand, Mr.

McPeters.

So you tell your boss I'm sorry about his accident, but I'll just have to do without him.

Mr. McPeters? Yes?

Look, I think we can still solve this mystery for you.

Well, yes, but I can't wait six weeks.

Oh, you won't have to. We have another investigator who can go right to work on your case.

Well, why didn't you say so?

Who is it?

The name is Murphy.

No, no, don't worry about the rent.

But Harry can't pay me, so I can't pay you.

So?

Already he pays you so little salary, and I charge you so little rent. Neither of us will even notice, yeah?

Oh, Mr. Osterman, you are the best landlord I ever had.

But how does Harry like you becoming a detective?

Oh, well, I'm going to tell him later.

Oh.

Looked like you lost. What are you doing down here on the pier in all this rain?

Well, there was a ship that was unloaded here last night.

That's right, the Luzon Navigator. That's her right there taking on cargo.

Do you know anything about it?

Well, it came from Manila going to Alaska. That's all I know.

Where did they put the wood they unloaded from it?

The wood?

A stack of big planks, you know, Philippine mahogany.

It'd be over there under that big plastic tart.

Oh, thank you. And I'm sure the insurance company would be glad you're keeping it undercover.

Insurance company?

Well, after last night's accident.

I don't know about any accident. I just came on shift at six this morning.

Well, now let's see what I can see. Oh, they have this plastic tie down for the guy. If I could just get under it. There.

There it is.

Now, how many timbers? Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, thirty-six, forty, forty-seven. Only forty-seven. There's one timber missing. Oh, what is this?

Find what you're looking for, miss?

Oh, what?

You startled me. Yes, yes, I did. This is a lumber, all right.

You said there was an accident here last night.

Well, thank you so much for.

What kind of an accident? I didn't see any report of an accident involving a longshoreman.

Say, who are you anyway?

Oh, my name's Murphy. I'm an investigator.

Investigator, huh?

I've got to be going.

Hey, what are you doing?

I'm taking off my shoes. They're getting soaked and I wouldn't want to ruin them.

See.

Murphy, so soon from your detecting, you're back? You're barefoot in this rain?

Mr.

Wasserman, you're a woodcarver. And look at the soles of my shoes.

A woodcarver, not a shoemaker.

No, no, no, don't brush them off. What do you see?

Well, you have sawdust on your shoes.

What kind?

What kind of sawdust?

Can you tell?

Well, it feels coarse.

Not fine sawdust, like from a saw with small teeth. Not even from a crosscut saw.

A rip saw. A rip saw made this sawdust, yeah.

Can you tell what kind of wood it is?

A very fine wood. This is mahogany. Yeah, Philippine mahogany. Murphy, no.

N-O.

I appreciate it, believe me, but this is a dangerous case. Someone was trying to kill me.

Over a piece of lumber? No, I don't think so.

Oh, so then you think they were playing games.

No, no, but listen, Harry. What's the market value of a couple of planks of hot mahogany?

I don't know, but that's not the point.

No, the point is, it can't be the wood that they want. Yet there was sawdust on the ground by that stack of lumber. Someone took a timber and sawed it up right there on the dock.

Murphy.

Murphy.

I know you want to be a detective, but that's not enough. You need training.

You need to take.

Harry, don't you think I've picked up something besides paperclips all this time I've worked for you?

Well, yeah, but.

Now look, we know whoever stole the 48th timber sawed it up before.

He took it.

Sounds like it, but how big were those planks?

Six by sixes, I'd say.

So if someone sawed one into smaller pieces, it would take them quite a while.

Unless he used a chainsaw. The sawdust was coarse, like chainsaw makes.

Yeah, but wait a minute. A chainsaw makes a heck of a lot of racket. Anybody sawn with a chainsaw would be hurt all over the place. Listen, Murph, you're smart. You're smarter probably than I am. And you want to help save this case, and I appreciate it, but... I'll be careful, Harry.

And I'll check in with you twice a day. After all, I'm your partner. And now you get some rest. And don't you worry. Hey, I'm a big girl now.

Yeah, partner. Whoever said she's my partner? Besides, partners don't kiss. So, there I am, stuck in the hospital. Murphy's out there about to walk right into something, only I didn't know what, and neither did she.

Well, Miss Murphy... Welcome back to the Seattle Public Library.

Hello, Mr. Swanson.

We've missed you.

That's nice. I've missed you, too.

Running a big library was a lot more fun when you were with us. I don't suppose you've left your detective to come back to the library system.

No, no.

I just came in for some research.

And have you found what you needed?

Yes, yes, I have. Thanks.

Of course you have. You know right where everything is. Tell me something, Miss Murphy. Is it exciting?

Is what exciting?

The life out there. Working with a private eye.

Well, it's not exactly like the fiction writers say it is.

Well, nothing ever is, is it, I mean, that's why it's fiction. Are you on a case?

Right now?

Well, yes.

What kind?

It's a larceny case.

Really?

What did they steal?

Three sticks of lumber.

Three sticks of lumber?

Uh-huh.

My, how fascinating.

Mr. Swanson, could I use the telephone?

Oh, certainly.

Use the one in my office.

What time was it when I got hit? I don't know, around 8, maybe 8.30.

So the mahogany was cut up sometime after that.

Yeah.

Listen, Murph, call the SPD and ask for the larceny squad. Let them take it from here.

No, no, I think I'm on to something, Harry. I'll check back in later.

Murphy!

Oh, you're still here. You remember me from this morning?

Yeah, the barefoot insurance lady.

Well, I couldn't afford new shoes this month, and they were getting soaked.

So what brings you back to the dock?

Well, I need to know who was working around this pier between 8 o'clock last night and when you came on ship this morning.

About this accident. What kind of an accident was it?

A man was crushed by a truck. It shoved him up against that stack of lumber I was looking at.

You kidding me?

No.

And you think one of our longshoremen did it?

No, no, I never said that.

There ain't no one working on this pier unless they hold a union card.

How about truck drivers?

There weren't any trucks on the pier. We were unloading the Luzon Navigator until midnight. The drivers come in after we're done. They're Teamsters. We're the Longshoremen's Union. You go talk to the Teamsters. Their office is up on Denny Way.

No, ma'am.

None of our Teamsters were on that dock last night.

Not until 8 o'clock this morning.

I don't know what kind of truck it was.

Well, they said there weren't any trucks on the pier until after the ship was unloaded.

Well, believe me, it was a truck that jammed me.

Not a forklift or a tractor?

Murphy, I heard this truck coming up behind me. I didn't turn around. All of a sudden, it hits me, and I'm down on the ground. By the time I can look, the truck has backed up, gone around this stack of lumber where I can't see it. It moved away real fast. That's all I can tell you.

Harry, where are the clothes you were wearing?

I don't know. Must be in that closet over there.

Yes, here they are. I'm taking them with me.

Wait a minute.

Maybe there's something on them that's a clue.

Murphy, you wouldn't know a clue if it bit you.

Yeah, well, I'll bring them back before you get out of the hospital.

Murphy?

Hey, Murphy, I didn't mean that.

Murphy?

Murphy?

Bring the light a little closer, please.

Here.

I'm a woodcarver. It's only a hobby.

But you know all kinds of woods.

I just wanted to know if you could tell me what these tiny chips are in the cuff of Harry's trousers.

Yeah. Well, they're not sawdust.

No, no, the sawdust came after he was hit. They came in and sawed up one timber sometime after midnight.

How do you know these chips came from the pier?

I don't know it. It's just... Will it be a clue?

Well, I can tell you one thing for sure.

What?

These chips are not wood.

They're not?

No, no.

See this long one here? It's a thin kind of fiber. You can see it has a finer texture than wood.

I just thought of something. The library isn't closed yet.

Well, back again.

I need reference books on fibers, like tropical fibers.

You're still on the same case?

Yes.

You making any progress?

I don't know.

Can I help?

I need a book that shows pictures of all kinds of fibrous plants. Follow me.

No, not this one.

Mm-mm, not this one either.

Let me see that sample again.

Wait a minute.

What?

Did you find a match?

This might be it.

Let me look.

Yes, yes, close.

Palmyra, a tropical palm yielding wood, edible fruit, and sap native to the Philippines.

The stack of mahogany came from the Philippines.

Well, there's where your little chip came from.

Yes, well, maybe Harry was right. I wouldn't know a clue if it bit me.

Ah, you're back from the library, Murphy. And how goes the mystery of the missing Mahogany?

I don't know.

I'm just collecting little bits of information, but I haven't been able to put them together yet.

How late is it? It's ten o'clock. Maybe I can get a call through to Harry before he goes to sleep.

Ah, I wasn't asleep. Listen, I'm glad you called. Look, I didn't mean what I said. You're a terrific bird, dog, going after all these details. I'm just so doggone frustrated.

I know, I know, but Harry, I think I can wrap this one up tonight.

Tonight?

Where are you going?

Down to the pier.

Don't.

Why not?

Wait till morning.

No, no, I can't. It could be too late then.

Murphy, you show up there again tonight. Whoever tried to mash me will figure out that you're working with me on this case and they'll come after you.

Like I said, Harry, I'm a big girl now.

Ah, she didn't listen. There was nothing I could do except call a longshore shack down at the pier and tell them to keep an eye out for her. Which turned out to be Exactly the wrong thing to do.

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody in there?

You looking for somebody, lady?

Oh, well, I wanted to let the longshoreman on duty know that I'm here.

That's all.

This is the shack, isn't it?

Yeah, well, I'll let him know.

Are you a longshoreman?

Not exactly. I drive the Elgin over there.

The Elgin?

Yeah, go ahead and make the joke.

Everybody says I thought an Elgin was a watch, but it's also the name of a street sweeper.

See it parked over there?

Oh, yes, yes, I've seen them a lot.

Well, it's mine. The port hires me to sweep the piers.

I see.

Say, your name wouldn't be Murphy, would it?

Why, yes.

I'm Wes Cooley.

How did you know my name?

Your boss called the shack. Said to keep an eye out for you. Guess he was worried about a woman being out here alone in the dark. I suppose he thought I was a longshoreman.

Um, Mr. Cooley, were you... sweeping on this pier last night after, say, 8.30 or 9.

Why?

Oh, nothing.

Nothing? You keep looking over at the Elgin. You ever seen a street sweeping machine up close? Big sucker, isn't it?

Freewheeler.

You steer with the back wheel so you can make tight corners.

Tight corners.

And see that eight-foot rotary broom underneath her?

That spins around and kicks refuse up into the hopper.

Oh, so that's how it works.

Yeah.

What's the broom made of?

What's it made of?

Uh-huh.

This one's made of palmyra fibers.

Oh, that's very interesting. And the hopper must be able to hold an awful lot of trash.

Carries up to a ton. Tell you what, Miss Murphy, you want to know all about my machine? Come on. Up you go. Oh, put me down. Put your foot there on that step. All right, there we go.

Wait a minute. Why are you doing this? What am I doing up here?

Isn't this what you wanted?

Why do you say that?

Your boss said you were coming down to investigate an accident.

Where are you driving this thing?

Just down to the end of the pier where we can talk.

No, I'm getting off.

Hey, stay on board, Miss Murphy. You could hurt yourself.

It was you last.

Night, wasn't it?

I don't know what you're talking about.

This machine makes enough noise nobody would have heard the chainsaw.

What chainsaw?

The one you used to cut up a length of mahogany. We know how it was done. Then you stowed the wood in the trash hopper and probably put the chainsaw in with it. What are you going to do?

The question is, what are you going to do?

What do you mean?

You're going to forget.

These notions of yours and go back and tell your boss you were wrong or... Are you going to take a midnight dip in the bay with some scrap iron around your ankles?

Oh, it's too late. My boss knows all about you.

Your boss don't know anything.

He knows I'm down here. He knows you wouldn't have almost killed him over just a stolen piece of wood. What's hidden in the wood? Something is hidden, isn't it?

Well, lady, it looks like you aren't leaving me much choice. We're at the end of the pier.

See, I have to carry this pry bar on the sweeper to knock trash free when it gets caught up under the machine, but It can come in handy in other ways, too.

Hey, Cooley, what are you doing out there?

Help, help, help me. What's going on?

He's going to kill me.

What are you doing out there? Are you up to something? Ah, what are you, crazy?

I picked up this little gal in a tavern. She wanted to see the sweepers, so I brought her down.

That is a big lie.

I know who she is. That's why I came back down here. I told her there were no trucks moving last night when the guy was crushed. And then I remembered, you were here, sweeping the pier. So I came back down to talk to you, Cooley. Looks like I was just in time, too.

So turn her loose.

Listen, buddy, she's a nutcase. Turn her loose!

He's the one who took the mahogany, and he drove into Harry, and he did it with his machine.

All right, all right. So I swiped a little lumber.

Let her come down, or I'm coming up. And I brought my hook.

Oh, and I called the cops before I left home.

That'd be them now.

So how'd you figure all this out?

Well, we both knew there had to be a reason why only one plank from each shipment was stolen.

Yeah.

So, obviously, there was something special about each stolen plank.

Yeah.

And it happens that one of the important industries in the Philippines is gold mining.

Yeah.

So I figured someone was smuggling gold bars out of the country inside hollowed-out sections of one timber in each shipment.

And you also figured out that the one plank with the gold inside was identified with a paint smear on one end.

Yes.

And the man with the chainsaw knew where to cut that plank so he wouldn't be cutting into a gold bar. There was a bar hidden every two feet.

Well, they caught the guy Cooley was working for, and the Filipino government man says they're closing in on the guys in Manila who were stealing his stuff. It was gold that was hidden from the Japanese during their occupation of the Philippines in the war. I'm proud of you, Murphy.

Oh, I'm so glad I could help, Harry.

Well, now, one more thing.

Yes?

Help me get onto these crutches and get me out of this hospital!

Murphy's Outlaw featured Pat French as Murphy, Phil Harper starred as Harry, with Frank Buxton, Terry Rose, and Russell Johnson. Script by yours truly, Jim French. Music by David Shire and Michael Lynch. Sound created by Sean O'Meara and David Freed. And engineering by Peggy Stokes. The Adventures of Harry Nile are recorded before a live audience in Seattle. The Adventures of Harry Nile.

I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by calling a private detective.

Oh, it's a situation.

It's my son. He's 15. He's a good boy, Mr.

Nile.

He truly is. But where would a 15-year-old suddenly get $ 260? Her name's Barbara Lindley, and she's trying to raise a son all by herself.

Her call came just at 9 o'clock in the morning after the boy had left for school. She sounded confused and desperate. So I schedule a visit to her house for 1 o'clock that afternoon. I Figured I'd be turning this one over to the juvenile authorities until I dug a little deeper into the counterbalance case. Seattle's promoters once claimed the city was built on seven hills, like Rome.

There was First Hill, Beacon Hill, Capitol Hill, Mount Baker, Denny Hill, which was sluiced away to make room for more expansion, Yesler's Hill, and Queen Anne Hill. where some early millionaires grabbed the best views. Now, this little geography lesson is by way of introducing a case that began the afternoon of October 15, 1953, when I rang the doorbell of an old home on West Lee Street, near the top of Queen Anne Hill. It was one of those big frame houses with three stories, gabled roof, dormer windows, everything that spelled money around the turn of the century.

The old place had been preserved pretty well down through the years, but now it was showing signs of neglect. Like it's maintenance man, if God.

Yes?

Mrs. Barbara Lindy?

I'm Mrs.

Lindley.

Harry Nile.

Oh, yes, please, come in.

She was about 40, slender, wearing a print house dress.

We can talk here in the living room. Sit anywhere.

Your, uh, your boy's in school now?

Yes, I mean, I suppose that's where he is.

Uh-huh.

Well, the reason I called you, as I said, I didn't know whether to call the police or not. I mean, he used to be such a sweet boy. Got good grades. He was never in any trouble.

Yes, ma'am. I'm just going to take a couple of notes here.

Oh, of course.

Now, what's your son's name?

Derek. Derek Lindley.

And he doesn't know you found the money?

No. I only found it this morning after he left for school. I was putting some clean socks in his drawer, and there was this wad of money.

Can I take a look at it?

Well, I suppose so.

The boy's bedroom is neat as a pin. No high school banners or movie star photos. Only a bed, a chair, a writing desk, a couple of books neatly stacked on it, and a dresser. I couldn't shake the impression that it looked more like a guest room than a kid's room.

There it is, in back of the socks.

That's a little roll of bills. You say there's $ 260 here?

Yes, I counted it.

It looks genuine, all right.

And there's something else. He sneaks out of the house late at night. I don't know how long it's been going on, but when I caught him sneaking in at 4 a.m., he told me he couldn't sleep and he needed to get some air.

And he's done this more than once?

Twice that I know of, but I can't stay awake all night. He might have done it more. And when I demand to know where he's been, he says I don't trust him.

Doesn't have an after-school job or anything where he could have saved up his earnings.

No.

In the summer, he worked at the market up on the avenue. But that money was spent as soon as he got it. You know how kids are. Do you have any children, Mr.

Nile?

Afraid not. Any of his things missing? Things he might have sold?

No, I don't think so. I mean, what does a 15-year-old have that's worth that much money?

Mm-hmm.

Do you know his friends?

Not really. You see, that's another thing. He never brings any of his friends over to.

The house anymore.

Well, you want me to find out where he goes and what he does and who he does it with. Is that about it? Yes. Okay, I have to tell you, Mrs. Lindley, if I find evidence that a crime has been committed, I'm required by law to report it to the police.

I understand.

Okay.

What's he wearing today?

Jeans and a sweater. Blue sweater and a red windbreaker.

Okay. And one more thing. Is Derek close to his father?

His father and I are separated.

Uh-huh.

But do they see each other?

On weekends, occasionally.

So he lives in Seattle?

Yes.

I might need to contact him.

I'll give you his number, but it won't do you any good.

Why's that?

His father is incapable of dealing with a child's problem. He's too much of a child himself.

She loans me a couple of pictures of her son. He's small for his age, large eyes and an angular face, and a smile that looks like he has to practice it. That afternoon at three, I'm parked on a neighborhood street half a block from the high school on Gaylor. Kids begin drifting out early into Gaylor Street, and I have my field glasses on them. Someone taps on the window of my car.

Pardon me, sir.

Huh?

Seattle Police.

Uh, yeah? Can I see some identification? Well, this is trouble. Well, no trouble.

Just kindly show me your driver's license.

Well, I can do better than that.

Here.

Here's my driver's license, and here's my P.I.

License.

Ah.

Private detective, huh? Right. Harry Nile.

Well, Mr.

Nile, a resident reported she saw someone watching the School of Binoculars and wanted us to check it out. There have been some break-ins in the neighborhood.

Huh?

Just, uh, what were you doing? Working on a case. I'm on surveillance. Uh, nothing illegal about that, is there?

Not as long as you don't violate someone's privacy or keep something from us that we ought to know.

Yeah, I know the rules.

Good.

Um, off the record, what are you looking for? Off the record, a kid whose mother is worried about him.

Well, plenty of those, I guess.

Here's your license back. Oh, and here's my card. My name's Bob Horton.

Okay.

I'm sure you'll call if you have anything to report.

The cop leaves just as the dismissal bell rings, and now I've got the job of picking Derek Lindley out of hundreds of teens who are piling out of the school, but I get lucky. One kid, skinny, not over five feet tall, walks right past where I'm parked, and it has to be Derek. I let him get a block away, and then I get out of the car, and I follow him on foot. He heads down to East Lee Street, and he turns west, so he's heading in the direction of home, but Lee doesn't cut across Queen Anne Avenue. Instead, it ends up on the ledge of a little cliff.

There's a steep flight of stairs leading down to the avenue, but he's far enough ahead of me that by the time I get down to the sidewalk, he's nowhere in sight. I spend half an hour cruising the little business district. I try the grocery store and the barber shop at the foot of the steps where Gaylor and Queen Anne Avenue meet. I peek in the tavern across the intersection.

I check out Al's hamburger joint in the bowling alley in the drugstore and the hardware store, but he isn't in any of them. So I use the phone booth at the standard station on the corner, and I call Mrs. Lindley, thinking maybe Derek went right home after all.

No, Mr. Nile, he hasn't come home yet.

Looks like I lost him a few blocks from school.

How could you lose him?

Someone could have given him a ride. Do any of his friends have cars?

I don't know. I don't know his friends anymore.

If there's one thing a gumshoe is supposed to know how to do, It's follow people. And I let a 15-year-old kid give me the slip. Then I get an idea. It's a long shot, but I fish out the phone number Barbara Lindley gave me and hope I can talk to Derek's dad, because there's a lot of anger in Mrs. Lindley.

And for all I know, her husband is closer to his son than Barbara. Let's on. Rings a couple of times, and then... Hello. Uh, Mr. Lindley?

Yes, who's this?

Name's Harry Nile.

Who?

Harry Nile. What can I do for you? Well, Mrs. Lindley gave me your number. She's a little worried about Derek.

What about Derek? Is he all right?

He's fine.

So?

What's your concern, Mr.

Nile?

Well, I'm a private investigator.

She called a private investigator? What the devil's going on?

I'd just like to ask you one thing, if I may. When did you last see Derek?

A couple of weekends ago.

Why? Didn't see him today.

No?

What is this? Is he missing?

No, no, no.

But he's spending a lot of time away from home, including in the middle of the night.

He is?

Yeah.

Well, I don't know.

Anything about that.

And you didn't happen to give him any money recently, did you?

Money?

No.

Well, I might have given him a few bucks for the movie. Yeah, but not 260 bucks.

260?

Where'd he get $ 260? That's what Mrs. Lindley would like to know.

Harry Nile will return in a minute. And now, back to the adventures of Harry Nile.

Derek's father comes up with the name of one person Derek used to visit down at the foot of Queen Anne Hill, an old cabinetmaker named Blake. I decide to pay Mr. Blake a visit. The address is on Olympic Place. It's a brown shingled cottage with a dusty old Model A truck in the driveway. And the sound of carpentry coming out of a shop used to be the garage.

I walk in through the sawdust.

Uh, excuse me.

Say, uh, pardon me.

Can I help you with something?

I'm looking for Mr.

Blake.

Well, you found him.

Uh-huh.

Well, uh, Mr.

Blake?

At your service.

I'm working for Barbara Lindley. Derek's mom?

Oh, yeah, sure.

My name's Harry Nile.

Ben Blake. Nice to meet you.

You say you're working for Mrs.

Lindley?

Yeah, that's right.

What line of work are you.

In, Harry?

Well, Mrs.

Lindley asked me to help her with a problem she's having with her boy.

Derek?

Is he in trouble?

Well, not that I know of. His dad mentioned that you and Derek are pals.

Great pals.

Wonderful kid, but you got me worried. What kind of problems?

Do you see Derek very much?

Well, when he was younger, he used to love to watch me work with wood.

He'd come down here after school on weekends and spend hours sitting right there on that.

Stool while I worked.

I don't know how much you know about his family, but he hasn't had a daddy in the house for some time. So I expect I was sort of a substitute dad or granddad. I believe he said his grandparents were dead or lived somewhere else or something. Anyway, we We're great buddies.

So you haven't seen him recently?

Not for a while, no. Say, what's going on, anyway?

Well, his mother found a large sum of money in his room.

How large is large?

$ 260.

Holy net. Is he working? No.

That's a lot of money.

Some months I don't see that kind of money.

So his mother's worried that he stole it, is that it?

Well.

I can tell you right now, Derek is not that kind of a boy. I can tell. If he was one of those tough kids, I'd have run him off my place a long time ago.

Well, she says he sneaks out of the house late at night, sometimes doesn't come back till four in the morning.

Derek?

That's what she says.

Well, it's been quite a while since I've seen him, but... Well, I figure he's in high school now. He's got better things to do than hang around an old carpenter and get sawdust in his hair.

Ah! Well, I'm no closer to the answer. The only plan I've got is to try to tail the kid again the next day. Only this time I press Murphy in the service.

You want me to wait where?

In the tavern at Queen Anne and Gaylor. It's right across the street from the steps.

I've never been in a tavern in my life.

Oh, you don't have to drink anything. Just go in there at 3 o'clock tomorrow afternoon, order a soft drink, and sit where you can look across at the intersection and watch those steps. Here, take this photo of Derek. And if you see him coming down the steps, watch where he goes. If he starts heading home, call me from the pay phone over at the gas station. I'll be waiting for your call at Derek's house, and I want to clear up before he sees me.

What if he doesn't go home? What if he goes somewhere else?

Follow him.

You know, I don't believe it. You mean I'm finally getting an assignment to tail someone?

Right. And take along a pocket full of nickels so you can call me and tell me where he's going. The next afternoon, October 16th, 3.20 p.m., Mrs. Lindley and I are waiting in her living room when the phone rings.

Oh, it's for you.

Uh, yeah, what you got, Murphy?

Well, he came down the steps and he turned south and he went into an apartment house.

What, an apartment house?

Well, it's a gray stucco building, three stories high, right at the corner across from the gas station. It's called the Ridge Apartments.

You follow him into the place?

Yes, but he must have gone into one of the rooms.

Where are you phoning from?

The gas station.

You stay there. I'll pick you up.

What's this about an apartment?

You know anyone who lives in the Ridge Apartments?

No.

That's where Derek is right now.

Oh, now who can that be? Jerry, what are you doing here?

I thought maybe I could help. Your detective called me yesterday and... Oh, you've got company. I'm the one who called you, Mr.

Lindley.

Harry Nile. Glad to meet you. Likewise.

Where's Derek?

We think he's in an apartment house.

An apartment house? Well, what would he be doing there? My partner saw him go into the Ridge Apartments on Queen Anne just a couple of minutes ago. We were just leaving to go there. All right, I'll meet you there.

Jerry.

Hey, he's my son, too. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he's got a girlfriend that he's seeing? I mean, he is 15.

He would have told me.

Okay, here's the apartment house. We're going in. Okay, now look here. These are the tenant mailboxes. Look at the names. See if anyone you know lives here. You know, maybe we're talking about two different things here.

What are you talking about?

He goes someplace at night and he hits some money. They're not necessarily related.

Well, he's covering up for something he's doing.

Hey, hey, hey, an idea.

Maybe he's up at the school. I mean, did you look in the gym? I told him I thought he ought to get into calisthenics.

No, no, I saw him come down the steps and go into this building, and he hasn't come out.

How about it, folks? You see any names you recognize?

I didn't.

No, neither did I.

What do we do now? Well, there are only 24 apartments. Couldn't we just knock on every door and just ask if Derek is there? No.

If he finds out we're chasing him down, he could run away and I could lose him for good.

You could be right, Murphy. We've got to be a little more subtle than that. Now, I want Mr.

And Mrs.

Lindley to go back home and wait for Derek. Will you do that, folks? Well, how about it, Barbara?

Well, like you said, he's your son, too.

Thanks.

And when Derek shows up, don't ask him where he's been, okay?

And Mr.

Lindley, I want you to leave before Derek goes to bed so Derek will feel it'll be safe to sneak out of his room like he's done before. And if he does, this time I'll be right behind him.

I feel terrible plotting against my own son.

Hey, we're trying to pull him out of trouble. Six o'clock. He's been in there three hours.

Here comes another bus at the counterbalance. Hmm.

Every time a bus comes to that stop, it blocks the view of the apartment house for a couple of seconds. Derek could come out of the apartment house and.

Harry, Harry, look.

What?

Getting off that bus from downtown. It's Derek.

But it can't be.

It is Derek.

Well, how'd he do it? I mean, how did he leave the apartment house without our seeing him?

Harry Lyle returns in a minute. Now, the conclusion of tonight's Harry Nile adventure.

Well, Derek gets home safely, and I buy a couple of greasy burgers for Murphy and myself at Al's next to the hardware store. Then I take Murphy back to her place, and I head for home. But I'm back on top of the hill again at nine with two big jugs of coffee parked across the street from Derek's house.

At ten, a light goes on in his bedroom and goes off fifteen minutes later. The whole house goes dark. Eleven p.m.

Midnight.

Nothing moves. 1 a.m. I'm out of coffee and it starts raining. But then at 10 past 2, I see movement in the driveway. And it's Derek. He's wearing sneakers and a jacket with a hood. He turns east on Lee Street and walks briskly away from me. I slip out of the car. And when he gets to the end of the block, I start tailing him on the other side of the street. He keeps up a pretty good pace. But I'm wearing sneakers, too, and my legs are longer. I follow him five blocks to Queen Anne Avenue.

He jaywalks across Queen Anne, and I stay on the other side. He gets to the Ridge Apartments, and he pulls out a key, and he lets himself in. As soon as the door shuts, I'm across the street, fishing in my coat for my lock kit. I check this afternoon. I can get inside in ten seconds or less. And I make it in five. I'm inside the foyer of the apartment house, and Derek is nowhere in sight. but his wet footprints lead me straight to an unmarked door.

It's a stairway to the furnace room. A dim bulb burns near the old furnace, a monster coal burner converted to oil. And no Derek. Then I see the only spot he could have gone.

Used to be a.

Coal bin, but now it's a three-by-two-foot opening in the foundation wall. I snap on my flashlight. It must have been a coal chute. It's paneled in wood with cleats and it leads down, down under the sidewalk, down under the street out front, down to a rail tunnel under the street. The tunnel is damp and eerie and it drops down and out of sight under Queen Anne Avenue.

A huge pulley wheel is winding a cable as thick as my arm that runs down the inky blackness of the tunnel and disappears immediately. I realize this is the counterbalance tunnel for the abandoned cable cars that used to run up Queen Anne Avenue. Sure, the cable was fastened to the balance car underground and hooked to the cable car so it could climb the 17% grade up Queen Anne Hill. And here, finally, I meet Derek.

What do you want?

Why are you following me?

It's all right, Derek.

Who are you?

I'm a detective, Derek. It's time to give it up. Someone's coming up the tunnel on the counterbalance car, right? Coming to meet you.

I'm not saying.

Yeah, but when he gets here, I'm going to know, won't I? Derek, it'll be better for you if you tell me everything before that car gets up here. Come on, don't be dumb.

Mom needed the money.

That's the only reason I did it.

He told me which house to break into.

He knew the people.

He knew where they kept their jewels and money.

And you did it because you trusted him.

Sure I trusted him.

Is he going to go to jail?

Probably. Am I going to go to jail? Not for me to say. Here comes the car.

Well, Derek, I see you brought a guest.

He followed me, Ben.

He's a detective.

Yes, I know. And a pretty good one, looks like.

Ben Blake.

How does a carpenter turn into a burglar? A burglar who trains a miner to steal for him?

He made me tell, Ben. Well.

It's really pretty simple, Harry. I worked for the city engineer all my life. I knew the cable car better than anyone. Then they shut it down, fired me, tore up the tracks and sealed off the manhole to the counterbalance tunnel.

But I opened her up again. One entry up here, the other down near where I live.

Derek was small enough to squirt down here if the cops ever chased him and they'd.

Never know where he went.

But you're a cabinet maker.

Why break the law?

I've restored 30, 40 homes up here on the top of the hill. Had the run of the house every time.

Seemed like these folks had.

A whole lot more than they needed.

Derek?

Derek, are you all right?

Oh, no. Dad.

Son, are you okay?

I'm okay.

I followed you, Mr.

Nile.

Then you go ahead and take Derek. Oh, and take this card and call the number on it. A policeman named Horton... Tell him I'm bringing in the guy who planned the burglary.

I'm afraid not, Harry.

I'm afraid I won't be able to join you topside.

I always wondered how fast this old card goes.

I am hooked into the cable.

And no!

The counterbalance case was directed by Pat French and featured Phil Harper as Harry Nile and Pat French as Murphy with Parley Bayer, Rhoda Williams, Larry Albert, Tyler McVeigh, and Alan Peach. Sound created by Ray Erlenborn, Sean O'Meara, and David Freed. Engineering by Peggy Stokes. Script and production by yours truly, Jim French. This program was performed before a live audience in Seattle.

The Adventures of Harry Nile.

You must be Harry Nile.

That's right.

And you're Mary?

Yes.

I'm the one who called you.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you, too.

Thank you.

But that's my name.

Merry Christmas?

Merry Christmas.

That's right. I'm Mary Christmas.

M-A-R-Y Mary.

I see. And your last name is Christmas, right?

That's right.

Thank you for coming out in all this rain. And on Christmas Eve.

Care for a jawbreaker or a tootsie roll?

Not right now, thanks. Is this your shop?

Mm-hmm.

How about a candy cane on peppermint stick?

Actually, I just had breakfast. If we could talk about why you called me.

I'm sorry. I tend to ramble.

Yes.

This is my shop.

I need a private detective.

And now you got one. What's the problem?

Well, it sounds silly, I guess.

But it's not silly.

You want to tell me about it?

Mr.

Nile, I want you to.

Well, I want you to locate a missing person.

Okay. Name of the missing party?

Me december 24th 1953 and a drizzling rain is seattle's christmas present to last minute shoppers sheets of silvery mist drift across the ship canal and lose themselves in the crusty old buildings of a part of town as singular as the people who live there artists and mill workers craftsmen and writers students and bohemians the jolly and the lonely all hold up together in a district called Fremont.

In one minute, Harry returns in a case called The Merry Christmas Caper.

The shop is just a tiny store with a steamy display window decked out with tinsel and tree lights. Inside is every kind of gadget and old-timey toy that could be crammed between the rough brick walls. An old display case holds a few used cameras, even an old clarinet. proprietor is a pretty young woman in a bright red santa suit that smells of mothballs like everything else in the store the costume has seen better.

Days i'm really not crazy i'm sure at least i don't think i'm crazy but you see i don't know.

Who i am but you said your name is merry christmas oh that's just the.

Name i gave myself after i woke up on christmas eve three years ago.

You uh woke up i came to listen you sure.

You don't want something These chocolate angels are good.

Tell me about when you came to.

Well, it was late at night on Christmas Eve. I woke up all bloody with a huge bump on my head in the back seat of a car parked right in front of this shop. Only it wasn't this shop then. It was just vacant. Just a dark, empty space.

So you got slugged on the head?

That's all I knew.

I didn't know where I was or who I was.

There was a purse with.

Me, but there was nothing in it.

So what'd you do?

Well, my vision was all blurry and I was real dizzy. So I sat there in the car for about half an hour and then I came inside.

Well, how'd you get in?

Oh, the door was unlocked. I found out they do that a lot in Fremont. Sort of like the way it must have been in the old days. You know, people trusting people. So anyway, I spent Christmas right here, curled up and back.

And you don't remember anything at all before then?

Mm-mm.

Nothing.

What about the car? What was it?

A black Nash sedan. Oh, they towed it away three days later for being illegally parked. I don't even know if it was my car or not.

Well, they must have traced the registration.

I know that now, but I wasn't thinking too clearly there for the first couple of days.

Did you go to a doctor?

Sure, right after Christmas. He told me I had a concussion and amnesia.

Well, this is the first time you've tried to find out who you are?

Well, I've been a little scared, I guess. Besides, from that very first morning, the people around here were.

So kind to me.

They just accepted me. It didn't matter that I didn't have a penny or even know my real name or anything about my past. They fed me and loaned me money and opened this shop. And I sort of concentrated on beginning a new life.

And now you think you're ready to find out about your past, huh?

Well, there are times when I get little flashes.

Flashes?

Glimpses. Like one frame out of a movie.

Glimpses of what?

Faces and.

The ocean.

I don't know, really.

Whose faces?

A man's.

Sometimes a woman's.

For some reason, they frighten me.

And I don't like to be around water.

This is the wrong town for someone who doesn't like the water.

I don't know why I have these feelings. But I guess they must be connected to whoever I really was.

Well, this is Christmas Eve. There's not much chance I could turn up anything in the next 24 hours.

I suppose I should have waited. But calling you was.

Sort of a Christmas present to myself.

Look, what are you going to be doing for Christmas?

Not much.

I mean, a few people in the district have invited me over, but I don't have any money for presents, so I.

Think I'll probably just.

How are you going to afford a private eye?

Well, I was sort of hoping you might find some things in the shop that you like.

Uh-huh.

I'm almost afraid to ask, what do you charge?

Well, we can talk about that later. You don't have any plans for Christmas dinner or anything, huh?

No.

Well, I'm headed up Queen Anne Hill to where my assistant and a few other folks are having a kind of a Christmas open house. Why don't you come with me?

No, I couldn't.

I mean, I haven't anything to wear.

Hey, what's the matter with the Santa suit? Well, I talk her into it. And up the hill we go to Mr. Osterman's boarding house. Santa suit, mothballs and all. The minute we step inside, I can see I made a major blunder. The lady in the red flannel costume becomes the instant center of attention. And Murphy is sending icicles at me. I don't mean the kind they hang on a Christmas tree.

Oh, you don't have to explain.

The woman has no memory.

So you decided to give her one.

She's a client, Murphy.

And it's Christmas.

Look, I guess I was out of line bringing her over here where she wasn't invited. I was just a little sorry for her, I guess.

Well, now I'm feeling a little ashamed. You did the right thing, Harry.

Harry, Harry, what a wonderful idea, bringing Kris Kringle to the party.

So, you don't mind, Mr.

Osterman?

Who couldn't mind a beautiful blonde Kris Kringle in a red suit?

She's already the life of the party.

You guys, it was wonderful to make so many friends. tonight let me get a light on well this is the merry christmas shop such as it is oh.

It's like an old-fashioned toy shop i.

Keep the christmas things out all year round.

Where did you find all these things.

Well the people just dug into their attics and cellars and carried in armloads of stuff. Then they came back after I opened the shop and began to buy it back. Then I bought more stuff and sold it. It's just been going along that way for three years. I never know if I'll have enough to keep the doors open from one month to the next, but if it hadn't been for the people here in Fremont, I don't know what would become of me, whoever me is.

Well, I haven't much to go on, but the day after Christmas, I'm talking to an officer at the police parking violations department. This was how long ago? Well, it would have been December 24th, 1950. Could you just try to look it up?

Sorry, after a year, the parking citations get filed downstairs in dead storage.

And they do mean dead. Takes half an hour for the guy to come up with a towing receipt. Yeah, this could be what you want.

Have a look.

Yeah, let me see. December 28th, 7 a.m., 3400 block, Fremont Avenue North, 46 Nash Sedan, removed to SPD lot. Aha, and here's a license number, 7A6364. Now, can I get you to run this through Olympia and see who owned the car? Oh, and see if you can find out who claimed it. This takes an hour. When the officer comes back, it's with bad news. Afraid you're out of luck, pal.

The car was stolen in Port Angeles on or before December 23, 1950.

Stolen? So when the Seattle police impounded it, who showed up to claim it?

Nobody.

Nobody claimed it?

Says here it was held until November of 1951, and then it was auctioned off.

Well, listen, do you have the name of the original owner?

Uh-uh.

You'll have to check with Olympia on that one.

I called Olympia like you said, Harry, and I got the name of the owner.

Hey, great going, Murphy. Who was it? Why didn't he claim it?

Well, the owner was a woman named Beatrice Adams of Port Angeles. And she didn't claim it because she was dead.

Dead? That's so. Natural causes?

Drowned. Her body was found in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The coroner called it an accident.

Now my radar points northwest. Next day I lock up the office and Murphy, Merry Christmas, and I take the long drive down across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge and double back up 101 on the Olympic Peninsula. Finally we arrive at Port Angeles in a dead heat with a winter storm. Any of this town look familiar to you, Mary?

No, nothing yet.

And the name Beatrice Adams?

It means nothing to me.

Well, you're still game to see the chief of police.

Well, not as well.

We came all this way.

Okay, there's the police station.

I'm Chief Calvin, and you're the one who'll call from Seattle?

Yeah, right, Harry Nile. I'm a PI, and this is my associate Murphy, and a client. She doesn't really know her name, but she's calling herself Mary. We're trying to find out something about her past, sort of, Following a cold trail here.

Oh, yeah, you mentioned a girl with amnesia. Well, I'm sorry to hear about that, miss. I hope we can help you.

Thank you.

Now, just make yourselves comfortable, folks.

You know about Beatrice Adams' death three years ago?

Adams?

Yeah, drowned right around Christmas.

Well, on Christmas Eve three years ago, this young lady woke up in the back seat of Beatrice Adams' car in Seattle. She had a concussion and no memory of how she got it or how she got there or who she was.

You were in Beatrice Adams' car?

That's right.

Did you report the car stolen, Chief?

Well, we didn't know it was. We never saw her in it much. Walked up to town two or three times a week. Kept it in her garage most of the time. No, we didn't know anything about it. And since her death was accidental.

Yeah, tell me about that.

Well, she had a little sailing dinghy she liked to go out in. In fact, she'd be out there in 30-knot gales and whitecaps sometimes. Well, we stayed pretty much out in front of her place. But she loved sailing that little teacup of hers. Day she drowned, a storm had come up.

Quarter by surprise, I guess. Was there an autopsy?

You better let me get my file on that.

Ah, yeah, yeah, here it is.

No, I don't think we ran an autopsy. It was real clear that she drowned. Bob Mallory, yeah, he was my deputy. He found her dinghy half full of water.

Is she wearing a life jacket?

Well, I don't know if she was or wasn't.

Huh.

Who found her body?

Oh, an old-timer doing a little surf casting.

Huh.

Well, who exactly was Beatrice Adams?

She was a retired schoolteacher out here from the East.

Did she have a husband?

Ah, she was a widow. Bought that little house out there on the beach, lived there all by herself. Kind of a loner.

Pretty well off?

Comfortable, I'd say.

Who lives there now?

Nobody.

It's empty?

Well, it's still got her stuff in it. Her estate's still tied up in the courts back east, so the house was sealed under a court order.

Who investigated the death?

I did.

I'm the deputy. This isn't Seattle, Mr.

Nile.

Other than a drunk sailor in a tavern now and then, we don't get much in the way of crime. And this was no crime. Just an unfortunate accident.

Well, I'd like to let Mary see the house.

Well, I can give you directions. It isn't hard to find.

Any chance we can get inside? Yeah, just to look around.

Afraid not.

It's... Like I say, sealed. We boarded it up.

Put plywood on all the windows, double-locked the doors. You see, we're responsible for protecting the content. I haven't been out to look the place over for what must be a good year at least. I expect some of that plywood must be getting a little beat up by now. I'll probably have to send someone out there and drive some more nails in one of these days. Locks could be getting rusty. I'll tell you what.

Here's her address.

Just go down there to the end of the street, turn left until you come to 18th and go right. It's all by itself out at the end of a driveway. Here you go.

Are you giving me the keys?

I'm authorizing you to inspect the premises. Yeah, let me know if everything's all right inside. Then bring these back to me in, say, half an hour.

Hey, this is darn nice of you, Chief.

Oh, yeah, and I'll just pull that license until you get back.

What, my P.I.

License?

Oh, yeah, sure.

Here you go.

Your gun? This is one good guy, this police chief. We find the cottage, gray and blind, with its windows covered with plywood, and what once was a garden awash in sand and weeds.

I don't like this place.

But do you remember anything about it?

I don't know.

I don't know.

It's like something trying to force its way into my memory. I'm getting a bad feeling here.

You game to have a look inside?

I don't know. Yes. I guess I'll have to.

Well, come on.

Parfait?

Sure, I'm game.

Let's see now. The door's on the seaside.

It's around over here, I suppose.

Yeah, here it is.

Yeah, sure enough. Well, look there. It's double locked. Deadbolt in the door. Here's an old favorite. An Atlas padlock. Yeah, good. Now, let's try the deadbolt. This must be the key.

Musty.

Mildred.

It's so dark in here.

That's all right.

I brought a flashlight here.

It's so damp. All these rugs and upholstered pieces are going to be ruined.

Go ahead, Murphy. Swing that door closed.

I hate it in here.

You've been here before.

I must have been.

Let's take a walk.

Bedroom.

Well, everything's neat. Covered with three years of dust here. And this would be the kitchen. Looked like anything's been used in a long time. Kitchen tell you anything, Mary?

No.

Well, I guess this would be the bathroom, then.

What's the matter, Mary?

I don't know.

I can't look in there.

I'll have a look. There's nothing here, Mary. It's just a toilet, a washstand, and a bathtub.

What is it?

What is it, Mary?

Let me out of here!

Mary?

No, Mary, come back!

Stop!

Mary?

Mary?

Stop.

Come on.

You were right.

I shouldn't have tried to find out who I was.

So who are you? Who were you the day Beatrice drowned?

I was... I'd been hitching up from San Francisco.

Running away. I got a ride with this kid, Joe.

He said he knew someone here in Port Angeles.

It was night, Christmas Eve.

We were hungry.

We didn't have any money.

His car was out of gas and he walked to this house... So he knocked on her door.

That door right there.

Yeah? Joe asked her for money.

Uh-huh.

And she told him she wasn't giving him any more money.

So she tried to slam.

The door, but Joe pushed his way in.

I was scared.

I waited out here on the porch, and then I didn't know he was going to do it.

He had her purse.

He was dragging her through her house.

He had her in the bathroom.

He was filling the bathtub.

I fought him.

He told me to take everything to her.

Take her purse.

I looked through the house for money and then in a few minutes he.

Dragged her out of the bathroom and out onto the dock. I fought him. I was kicking and screaming.

So he picked up this big rock and he came at me and I knew he was going to kill me.

So he slugged you with the rock. He thought you were dead. He threw you in Beatrice Adams Nash and he drove to Seattle and abandoned the car with you in the backseat? Is that your story?

You don't believe me?

Well, you've confessed to being an accessory to murder.

But Harry, if she didn't do it... I tried to stop him. You've got to believe me.

No.

The police have to believe you. A jury has to believe.

You.

Well, I hated to do it, but I turned Merry Christmas over to Chief Arthur B. Calvin and he turned my license and gun back to me. I heard her story, and Murphy and I added what we could. He said he thought the city of Port Angeles owed her a debt of thanks for coming forward and identifying a killer they didn't know they had. Seems Joe was arrested on a lesser charge. He's doing time right now in Walla Walla.

They released Mary on her own recognizance. We drove her back to Fremont in her little shop. She told me to pick out anything in the store for my fee. Oh, yeah, she remembered her real name, too. But it really doesn't matter. She thinks she'll stick with Merry Christmas. Says she likes it better than her real name. Whatever it was.

The Adventures of Harry Nile are written and produced by Jim French. The names of our cast in a minute. The Merry Christmas Keeper starred Phil Harper as Harry Nile with Pat French as Murphy. Terry Rose as Mr. Osterman, Don Porter as the Seattle policeman, Stefan Waite as Chief Calvin, and featured Sarah Getzoff as Merry Christmas. Dialogue mixing by Peggy Stokes. Sound effects by Sean O'Meara and Ben Peterson.

Music by Michael Lynch. The program was recorded before a live audience in Seattle. This is Jay Green speaking.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

So Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Thank you very much.

Thank you very much.

How late is it? It's ten o'clock. Maybe I can get a call through to Harry before he goes to sleep.

Ah, I wasn't asleep. Listen, I'm glad you called. Look, I didn't mean what I said. You're a terrific bird, Doc, going after all these details. I'm just so doggone frustrated.

I know, I know, but Harry, I think I can wrap this one up tonight.

Tonight?

Where are you going?

Down to the pier.

Don't.

Why not?

Wait till morning.

No, no, I can't. It could be too late then.

Murphy, you show up there again tonight. Whoever tried to mash me will figure out that you're working with me on this case and they'll come after you.

Like I said, Harry, I'm a big girl now.

Ah, she didn't listen. There was nothing I could do except call a longshore shack down at the pier and tell them to keep an eye out for her. Which turned out to be Exactly the wrong thing to do.

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody in there?

You looking for somebody, lady?

Oh, oh, well, I wanted to let the longshoreman on duty know that I'm here, that's all. This is their shack, isn't it?

Yeah, well, I'll let them know.

Are you a longshoreman?

0:00 / 0:00