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Broadway Is My Beat

Broadway Is My Beat: The Case of the Texas Cowgirl

Sonntag, 1. November 2026 · 27 min

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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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Ha, ha, ha! Wait here, Slim. I'll be down in two shakes.

A visitor, Watson. What is this, sir? Yes, a young lady who arrived in a covered wagon. A what? A covered wagon. What do you find strange about that?

I'm a-lookin', Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

You've tracked him down, madam. Won't you come in?

Name's Minnie Malley, Mr.

Holmes.

Melronda, Texas. I'm sure glad to know you.

Well, I'm pleased to know you, with Bison Jacks Radio, I believe.

Say, how'd you figure that out?

Well, your dress is very charming, but scarcely commonplace in London.

Well, didn't have a chance to change to my store clothes. Came straight here from a hotel. Who's he?

Oh, he? Oh, no, no, no. That's Dr.

Watson, my esteemed partner.

Howdy, Doc.

How do you do, indeed?

I'm sorry to bother you boys so late, but I got a case for you, Mr.

Holmes.

You're gonna like this one.

Yes, yes, I'm sure. Why don't you sit down?

No time to sit down. Not with that man in my hotel room.

Man in your room?

Don't get excited, Doc. It's all right. He's dead.

Oh, well, of course, in that case, I... What, dead?

With his head.

Doused up a little and my tomahawk laying next to him.

Great Scott. Tell me, Miss O'Malley, who is this gentleman? Dunno.

Never saw the critter before in my life. Walked into my room after the show tonight, and there he was, stretched out.

On the floor, dead.

And it was your Tomahawk?

Sure was.

He was in the show, but left in my room tonight. Sherlock, you got to get that hombre's body out.

Of my room. But, Miss O'Malley, one can't just... Minnie is.

The name, Doc.

Well, Doctor, what... I mean, Doc is right, Minnie.

It's considered illegal to move a body from the place of crime.

Well, it certainly is in England. Of course, I don't know what they do in Texas.

Well, it was illegal to tomahawk the critter in my room, too, wasn't it?

Well, I dare say it was.

But wouldn't it be simpler to notify the police?

Sherlock. Our Texas way, we call in the sheriff when we want to make a fuss about something.

I don't want to make a fuss about this. Just want to get that body out of my room. Pronto.

Pronto? Is that his name?

What language you talking, Doc?

Uh, Mindy, why don't you want to make a fuss about it?

Well, I'm aiming to get myself hitched.

Hitched? Hitched.

My hook, lasso, tied down. Wed and holy matrimony.

And what would Freddy and his mother counter say if they found I got a dead man in my room?

Freddy, I presume, is your fiancée. Yeah?

The Earl of Worcester.

Met him last week when he got tossed off a bronco.

Landed in his lap.

Oh, I... I don't think I've heard of the title.

Well, Freddy calls it something else too, Doc. But it's spelled W-O-R-C-E-S-T-E-R.

Worcester. Oh, yes, I see, yes. Lord Worcester. Mm-hmm.

His ma would be fit to be hog-tied if I got in any kind of scandal.

Anglo-American relations are involved in this, Watson. To say nothing of chivalry.

Now, look here, Holmes. I know all about Anglo-American relations and chivalry, but just the same, I.

Doc, maybe you'd better stay home tonight and leave this to me and Sherlock.

Yes, maybe you'd better. It might turn out to be a rather risky business, Watson. Well, I... I, um... Excuse me.

What, um.

Exactly as this.

It's a lasso, Doc.

Oh.

Well.

You throw a half of it. Well, you throw a half of where?

Well, you don't really throw a half of it, Doc. You just lasso them. Like this.

Now, really, I... What on earth do you think, young woman, you're doing?

And then.

What is the... But, hey, I....

All right, boys.

Up you go.

I refuse point blank to travel in that disgusting conveyor. Oh, don't be so narrow-minded, Watson. Come on, get in. I tell you, I refuse. Point blank.

Well, if that's the way you feel about it, Doc.

You'll regret this.

Take it away, Slim.

A man after all, he has his principles. You mustn't do this to me. What do you think you're doing? Faster, Watson. Faster. What do you think you're doing? I can't put up with this. You'll stagger me.

Come on now, Watson.

Hurry, hurry.

Come on. Knees up, Mother Brown. Knees up, Mother Brown.

Knees up, knees up.

Don't give the breeze up.

Knees up, Mother Brown.

Come on, Watson.

Come on. Come on.

There he is, boys. Just like I left him. He's dead all right, isn't he, Doc?

He couldn't be deader. Yes. Nasty business, this. Whoever did it wasn't satisfied to hit him just once with that tomahawk. He hit him several times. Looks like a vengeance killing.

Sounds like an engine on the warpath.

I take it that this is the weapon you use in your performance, Minnie?

Yup.

The fella stands there with a cigarette in his mouth... and I throw the tomahawk at him, slice off the cigarette.

Bit risky, isn't it?

Not if I don't miss, Doc.

Oh, I see. When do you estimate the time of death, Doctor? Within the last two hours. It's perfectly straightforward. Penetration of the cellar rhythm. He was hit more than once. Hmm.

Aged about 30, I'd say. Occasionally wore glasses.

Uh-huh.

Won it. No means of identification in it. Ah, what's this? Hmm.

No doubt about his profession, Watson. Skeleton keys.

By Jove, Holmes, a burglar. Then that means, of course, he was after some jewels and he must have had a partner. Then he and his partner... He's got no jewels.

Just some old engine beads and who'd want them?

Now, the problem becomes, where can we put his body?

Now, look here, Holmes, we can't put his body anywhere. That's preposterous.

I've got it.

We'll put it in the next room. Oh, now, look, Holmes, listen. You've got to listen to Regan. You can't possibly... Anglo-American relations, Watson, remember?

Careful, Bonson. Jack doesn't see you.

He's got his room down the hall. Ah, thank you, my dear. Oh.

Relax, Doc.

Leave it to Sherlock.

My dear child, Holmes is the last person I'd leave this to. He has no more idea when to stop than any man I... Number 13, across the passage. Most appropriate.

Couldn't think of a better. Come on, now.

Time's a-wastin'. Oh, I don't see any difference between us.

All right, boys, all clear.

Come along, Holmes.

Holmes, what are you doing?

Come along.

I'm coming, I'm coming.

Psst.

Mr. Holmes.

Hello, Tommy.

I've got something for you, Mr.

Holmes.

Something real odd.

Really, Tommy? What is it, eh?

Well, sir, I happened to be passing one of the rooms tonight, and I looked inside.

The door was open? Not exactly open, sir.

In fact, it was closed, if you know what I mean.

Ah, yes, I think I do know what you mean.

Well, if a bloke wants to become a famous detective like you.

Well, really, Tommy, there are more ethical ways of becoming a detective than looking through keyholes, but since you did, what.

Did you see?

Someone's hand.

Boy, boy.

Yes, ma'am?

There's a mouse in my room.

I'll get it right out, ma'am.

How?

I'm coming right away, ma'am.

Madam, might I suggest that you try mewing?

Mewing?

Yes, madam, mewing.

Disgraceful, if you ask me. I pay three shillings for my room, and I must mew like a cat.

Well, now, Tommy, perhaps you'll tell me about that hand that you saw.

Well, sir, all I saw was a hand turning a knob on a bedpost.

Hand turning a knob on a bedpost. That's very interesting. Thank you very much, Tommy. Thank you. Now run along and catch that mouse.

Thank you, sir.

Coming, madam. A tomahawk, I think it's called, sir.

A native weapon of the North American Indians. Sometimes it's a missile, and sometimes it's a hand weapon.

When I want the history of the Tomahawk, Wilkins, I'll consult an encyclopedia.

Yes?

Oh, come in, Holmes. Dr. Watson? Hello, Inspector. How are you? Got your notice straight. Anything interesting on hand? Yes, murder. I thought you'd be interested. It's the kind of case you like. Really? Why? Well, the chambermaid found him like this a little while ago. Ah. Oh, poor chap. Yes. He was killed by this Tomahawk. It's the native weapon of the North American Indians. Sometimes used as a missile, sometimes a hand weapon. That's the most observant of your restraint.

Have you identified the victim? Oh, yes, of course. It's a burglar, the name of Sly Sam Slythe. Room belongs to Mr. Honeywell here. Mr. Honeywell is a salesman, women's quarters.

Terrible.

Terrible. A dead man in my room. I shall lose all my customers. Yes, that must be very awkward for you. Holmes, don't you think this is the time for the magnifying glass, a little detection?

Well, Watson, I don't really like interfering in the Yard's cases.

Besides, it seems plain enough without magnification. Oh, you mean Mr. Honeywell? What? I don't know anything about it. Inspector, I'm innocent. Think of my customers.

Take it easy, Mr.

Honeywell. No one's accusing you of anything. The way I see it is this, Holmes. Sly Sam sometimes worked with a partner. They were on a job here together tonight. They broke into this room, quarreled over the loot, and Sly Sam tomahawked them. Who owned the tomahawk? The tomahawk?

Yes, of course, Lestrade, you know, Sly Sam, Sly's partner, might have been a Red Indian. Are you coming, Watson? Let me know if you'll find the owner of the Tomahawk, won't you, Lestrade?

It was late in the afternoon, and the grey, depressing London weather did nothing to help clear up my confusion. Holmes kept silent as we walked, and it wasn't until the rain cleared and the gas lamps came on that he started to discuss the case.

Yes, but Holmes, what I don't understand is who put the tomahawk next to the body?

I did. You did? Yes. But Holmes, Minnie's our client. Oh, she is. Yes, but we move the body so she won't be involved, and then you implicate her with the tomahawk. But the tomahawk is evidence, my dear fellow. Would you have me disturb evidence? That's illegal, you know. Well, really? Yes, but. Well, you know, Holmes, I'm very surprised at you, you know, because, after all, she is our client. It's your duty to protect our clients, not to turn....

All right, boys, grab air.

Grab air? What's she talking about?

Reach for the ceiling, Doc.

You too, Sherlock. Oh, I believe she means raise your hands. Oh, why didn't you say so?

I'm right disappointed in you, Sherlock. I thought you were a straight shooter.

You planted my tomahawk next to that critter's.

Body, so I guess I'll have to shoot you. You got any last wishes, Sherlock?

Well, I... And now we return to the case of the Texas Cowgirl. Quite simple, really.

The tomahawk I placed by the body was the one I found in the potted plant outside Minnie's room.

The murderer undoubtedly hid it there, hoping to recover it later on. You mean he used two tomahawks to kill Sly? No, just one. He struck Sly with Minnie's tomahawk after he'd killed him, thereby giving the impression that Minnie had done it.

Well, someone's trying to frame me.

Obviously.

Well, who is it?

Could it be somebody in the rodeo?

My, no good, Doc.

If anyone in the rodeo saw, they saw a bison jack, not me. No one knows I'm a silent partner.

Who's that?

Oh, one of Inspector Lestrade's emissaries, I expect. Come in.

Oh, Mr.

Holmes, Inspector. Inspector Lestrade asked me to give you this message. Ah, thank you, Wilkins. Aha. Just as I thought.

What is it, Sherlock?

Well, the Inspector Lestrade thinks he's found the owner of the other tomahawk, the one.

That killed Sly.

But whose is it?

He doesn't say.

Well, come on, boys. Whoever the owner is, he's the one that's trying to frame us.

Where's the inspector, Sergeant? In the room with the body? No, sir. He's in the room with running water. This one, sir. Running water? But they've all got running water.

He means chief running water, Doc. The engine in the rodeo.

Oh. Well, I took your advice, Mr. Holmes. I found an Indian. Chief Running Water here. Indian to London, honestly.

Howdy, Chief.

Oh. How do you do?

Oh, Lestrade, has our friend admitted owning the Tomahawk?

Well, I don't know. He keeps saying the same thing every time.

You watch.

Now, I'll ask you once again. Is this your... Tomahawk? You see?

He doesn't savvy English, Sheriff.

Oh, I... I don't think I've had the honor. Oh, I beg your pardon.

Inspector Lestrade, this is Miss Minnie O'Malley from Bison Jack's Radio.

Oh, then, Miss, perhaps you can help me to make this gentleman understand what I'm trying to ask him.

Sorry, Sheriff. He's a Blackfoot. All I speak is Apache.

Tomahawk. You catch him quick, kill White Chief? Winner, hunter.

What do.

You want to do that for?

I reckon he thinks you're asking him to scalp you, Sheriff.

Holmes, this is impossible. When it gets to the point where I have to learn Blackfoot to talk to a murder suspect, well, really, What's he say?

I believe, sir, he says the tomahawk belongs to Big Chief Bison Jack.

When I want suggestions from you Wilkins, I'll ask for it. What?

He says that he saw Mr. Bison Jack tonight in the corridor outside room number 13, the room where the body of the deceased was found. He also suggests that perhaps we might.

Bison Jack? Why, sure enough, this is his tomahawk.

Then it's not his.

Sherlock, the vomit tomahawk slith in my room, and then he went over.

In your room, Miss O'Malley? A slip of the tongue straight, a slip of the tongue.

That's right, Sheriff, slip of the tongue. Make them all the time.

Because that wouldn't make any sense either. Wilkins. Find this. Bison, Jack, Persona, whatever they call them, and bring them to room 13. This ain't my tomahawk, Sheriff. Never seen it before. Anyhow, tomahawks all look the.

Same to me.

Mr.

Tomahawk, you loaned me for my act tonight. Left mine in my room.

You didn't give us your tomahawk back to me, Minnie.

I certainly did, right after the act.

I don't rightly recollect your giving it back. Chief Running Water... Damn. Chief Running Water said he saw you outside the door of this room tonight, Mr. Jack. Yeah, I wanted to talk over the act with Minnie. Did Miss O'Malley answer the door?

No.

Then went straight back to her room.

Did you get back here tonight before or after Minnie?

I reckon it was before. Leastwise, Minnie wasn't in her room when I knocked. Tell me, Lestrade, did any of the guests report missing... jewelry tonight?

No.

Why? Well, they will soon.

But you gave a solution yourself, Lestrade. The murderer was Sam Sly's partner.

Weren't you, Mr. Honeywell? I... I don't know what you're talking about.

You stole Bison Jack's tomahawk to kill your own partner here in this room. Then you planned to move his body back into Bison Jack's room.

This is ridiculous. If that's what I planned, why didn't I put the body into... Bison Jack's room.

Because Bison Jack had already returned.

To his room from the rodeo. In that case, I still wouldn't have left the body in my room.

I could have put it in another room.

Come, come, Mr. Honeywell.

Don't let's get academic. Who placed the jewels in the bedpost?

Yes. Who did place the jewels in the bedpost?

Well, I.

I... I.

Would your employment with a corset firm stand investigation, Mr.

Honeywell?

Yippee! That's the way, Doc!

Too rare of a doctor, Watson. Nice rope on her, partner.

It's all yours, Inspector!

Middle of the lift? There we are, home. Ah, thank you, Wilson. Bread.

See, you can really twirl that rope, Doc.

Oh, I don't know. I don't think there's much to it once you get the hang of it, you know.

See, Sherlock, how'd you know that Honeywell dragged the body from his room to my room?

Well, the tracks in the corridor. Two heel marks in the carpet. Quite obvious.

Golly, you could be an engine scout.

Minnie, may I ask you something?

Sure can.

Would you really have shot me?

Well, I reckon not. Maybe just wounded.

You a little.

Yes, do you, boy?

Yes, do you, Minnie? Yes, do you, Minnie? The End

I'm sorry.

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