 The Adventures of Frank Race, starring Paul Dubov with Tony Barrett as Mark Donovan. The war changed many things. The face of the earth and the people on it. Before the war, Frank Race worked as an attorney, but he traded his law books for the cloak and dagger of the OSS. And when it was over, his former life was over too. Adventure had become his business. The Adventures of Frank Race. Now we join Frank Race for the adventure of the kettle drum. Enthusiasm is all right in its place, but there are times when it can be a curse, particularly when you've been up all night playing poker and your mouth tastes like an old mattress from too much smoking. I mentioned this in a tired and chastened voice, but Mark Donovan paid me no heed. He went right on being enthusiastic. Come on, Chum, come on, come on. Cold shower and a cup of coffee, that's all you need. And then you've got to go say this name, and she is really worth it. Marcus, please, I am going to sleep. But you can't do that. You've got to say this name. I promise to you. I'll see you tomorrow. Listen, look, look, she used to know you, see? She told me to say her name was April Ennis. Does that ring a bell? Ah, it rings a bell. Ah, that's good, that's good. Let me have a cigarette, Mark. All right, now look, look, if you remember her name, you will remember what she looks like. And if you remember what she looks like, you will want to see her. And if you don't, you ought to be taking vitamins. Is it like... April Ennis? Yeah, yeah. What did she want? Not a way I figured. She's in some kind of trouble. That's why she wants to see you in a hurry. All right, drive me over. What's the address? Ah, strictly hoity-toity, number eight, laden square. April Ennis. It'd been about four years since I'd seen her. She'd been quite a dish then. And one look registered the fact she hasn't lost a thing. Oh, Grace. So nice of you to come. Looks as though you've been doing all right, baby. I couldn't be sure whether this was a house or an industrial exhibit. I'm married now, Grace. My name's Faber. Well, that's a quick-witted, jolted old boyfriend, isn't it? I've been married a couple of years. Now I... I stand a good chance of becoming a widow. A widow? What is this, a gag? We should work. Will you come with me for a few minutes? Certainly. The trailer upstairs to a room big enough to handle a square dance. Here a man lay inert in a tremendous bed, over him taking his pulse-beneficient. I gaped for a few seconds, then at a knot from April, who went down below to the library where she turned to me with a strained expression. His photographs up there on the mantel. Doesn't look much like it now, does he? That's what an ordeal can do. What kind of an ordeal, Mrs. Faber? Started on Tuesday. My husband didn't get home as usual in the evening. This has happened before, but when he didn't come home the next day, I called the police. They found him last night sitting on a park bench in a semi-delirious condition. Has he been able to tell what happened? No, not a word. But I'm convinced it wasn't just a physical collapse. You see, my husband has been offered the nomination for congressman in this district, and either feeling that because of this, someone is working against him, causing him harm. That's why I called you in, Rays, in the hope that you could help. Any ideas through the identity of these people? There's a woman by the name of Faye Carlile. She called on my husband last week right after he received notice of being picked by the political committee. He seemed upset after she left, and I thought... Know where I could find her? Yes, she's an actress. She's rehearsing in that new show they're opening at the Galaxy Theater. I'm leaving now, Mrs. Faber. Oh, Dr. Phillips, won't you please come in? Rather unhappy that Mr. Faber hasn't shown... Oh, it's all right, Doctor. You may speak freely. I'm, uh, rather disappointed in Mr. Faber's condition. Frankly, I had expected some improvement. Doctor, how seriously is this going to affect him? Well, I... I wish I could say. But you tell me there's no past medical history on Mr. Faber, so... Well, are you certain he had no regular physician? I never felt the need for one. He's always been very strong in fine health. Well, he should have had medical attention long before this. The way he's reacting indicates he's been suffering from a heart ailment for some time. Unless he shows improvement we're going to have to remove him to a hospital. When the doctor had gone, I got more information on April's husband, Arthur Faber. A chemist still in his 30s, he was president of the Apex Chemical Company, manufacturers of pharmaceutical products. I told April Faber I'd take the case for him. Then I left the house and joined Mark in the car. Okay, okay, okay, you're taking the case. Great. So now what do we do? I'd like you to whistle over to the Apex Laboratories later. See what you can turn up. For my part, I'm going to have a look in on this actress that April Faber mentioned. I found Faye Carlisle in her dressing room. She sat before the mirror, touching up her face, and from my point of view, the scenery wasn't bad. Across the mirror, someone had scrolled a telephone number in lipstick. Parkway 2444. She noticed that this had taken my glance and wiped it away with a makeup towel. She stared at me in the glass and then turned around. If you're selling brushes, let's see your samples. Don't bristle, Pet, I'm a writer, doing a novel on the theater. And I got the idea that taking you out to lunch would be a delightful way of picking up material. Got your throttle right down to the floor, haven't you? That's quite an approach. Oh, it's no approach. I'd really appreciate it if you go out with me. Might be interesting. But I tell you what, before I go, I've got to make a phone call. She went past me exuding the fragrance of taboo and kept me waiting for such a long time I began to think I'd been played for a yokel. But just as I was about to call it a lost effort, she came back with a perky smile of agreement. I waited in the corridor while she changed clothes. She presently appeared looking like something out of Sac's window. I told myself gleefully, here was a case with definite possibilities. But I didn't revel in this thought very long. At the stage door, we were intercepted grimly by a blonde male who looked as though he should have been playing tackle for Notre Dame. I estimated his weight at about 245 and sent myself for some very fast judo. What's the idea, Faye? Look, Johnny, I certainly had the right to go out to lunch with someone else once in a while. You had a date to go to lunch with me. I call the office. I know you call the office. But we had a date just the same. I'm breaking it. Oh, no, you're not, honey. Tell this, um, joy boy to get lost. Um, under the circumstances, I'll be glad to get lost. After all, you two see... Race, please don't go. I said I'd go to lunch with you and I will. Get going, Mr. Look, old boy, I can imagine how you feel, but the young ladies... Listen, joy boy, I don't want you to ever come around, Faye, again. Understand? Uh, your statement is clear and to the point. And just so you don't forget, I'm going to tie a little string around your finger like this. I roll with the punch, catch it on the shoulder, then swung one of my own with the girl lurched against me and... Nice blockin', honey. Come on, Johnny. Let's just leave him here. Oh, brother, who damn your headlight. Lovely, isn't it? I'm doomed to dark glasses for a week. That actress must pack quite a punch. This was done by an enraged heavyweight of the masculine sex. Yeah. Never come between a man and his mate, Mark. It can lead to all kinds of abrasions. He sure must be good. He was. Did you get to tag him at all? I tried, but the girls... What's the matter? Mark has I been framed. What do you mean, framed? Faye Carlisle didn't want me around asking questions, so she put on a big act with a blonde bull playing the part of a jealous boyfriend. I was warned never to try seeing her again and slugged to make sure I was properly impressed. Fine, fine. So you had a good time. Did you find out anything? Nothing, except that I don't seem to play the part of a novelist very well. That girl had me tagged from the beginning. Even left me sitting in her dressing room while she went out and phoned the boyfriend. So I went... Wait a second, though. There was that phone number. What phone number? When I went into her dressing room, I noticed a phone number on her mirror. Parkway 2444. It was smeared on with lipstick. Faye wiped it off and she saw me looking at it. Now that I come to think of it, she was just a little bothered. You know what's a little confusing? What are you doing now? Calling that number. It might be a lead. Lead? It sounds like a dead end. Well, we'll try another tack. I give up. Who this time? Headquarters for a little information. Ed, Frank Race, could you get an address from a phone number for me? What's the number, Race? Parkway 2444. Hold on a second. I believe this is going to one on a one. It doesn't matter. Race? Yes, Ed? Anything homicide might be interested in? Not so far. I'll keep you posted. Okay, drum. Don't happen to know who runs it, do you? No, I don't. I'll have to check on it. Never mind that, Ed. I'll check on it myself. Thanks a million. Okay, what? My club called a kettle drum. That's why we didn't get an answer too early in the day. So now? So now we'll have a look at it this evening. The kettle drum is one of those spots where the extent of your dancing depends on the strength of your elbows. Mark and I had a couple of drinks at the bar and then pushed our way through a door that led to the innards of the place. Race? Yes? Look, just what are we looking for? Anything we can find, why? Because I got a hunch we were spotting when we stepped out of there. Maybe just the same I'd like to find. Hey, a shot. Came from behind that door ahead. Somebody's in the office. Look, Carl, it's a dame. Fake Carlisle. Get out and wrestle up a doctor, Mark. She's still alive. Yeah, sure. Sure. A shot through the chest. The gun lay smoking near her knees. The room had windows opening into the night, probably into an alley. While I checked this, a gurgle came from fake Carlisle's throat. As I looked, she gave a last convulsion and she was gone for good. Using a handkerchief, I picked up the murder weapon. A 38 automatic. And at the same time, the door opened. Hey, what's going on? Oh, no. It was Johnny, the jealous boyfriend. With him was an older man. And I could sense that in the minds of both, I was guilty of murder. We'll return to the adventures of Frank Race in just about one minute. Now we return to the adventures of Frank Race. The two men stared at me and I stared back. I certainly couldn't blame them for their thoughts. They'd surprised me standing over the girl's body holding a smoking gun. The older man's sleek and white dinner jacket and maroon cummerbund eyed me narrowly. You and the girl must have had quite a disagreement. I had nothing to do with this. I just found her here. Well, you lie. You shot her. Look at her truck, so she stared. I'm going to get her. I got the gun. I didn't kill her, Johnny. Give me a few minutes and I'll prove it to you. No, I'm going after him. Truck's a gun and no gun. I'm going to get my hands out of her. Turn the light and shut the light. I made it by way of the window dropping about eight feet to the alley pavement. A few minutes later, I limped into a Broadway drugstore called Homicide and got Libus again. I broke the story for him. You say you had the body? That's right. There's also the little matter of motive, Ed. All right, Grace. I happen to have the gun. I'll bring it in for the ballistics, boys. I phoned you first because I thought you might move in fast and surprise someone. Oh, and while you're there, you might check on what happened to Mark Donovan. Okay. My next stop was Center Street, where I waited a couple of hours for a report on the pistol. It finally came through as a double negative. No fingerprints, no record of ownership. It was after midnight now, but I decided to call April Faber. I told her about Faye Carlisle and described the blonde boyfriend. Well, that matches up with the rest of the progress. How's Mr. Faber? You sound very sleepy. Almost groggy. Then I won't talk anymore. I'll call you tomorrow. I was beginning to feel a little worried about Mark, so, of course, I headed back to the kettle drum. But the place was sealed by this time with no one around but a pair of uniformed officers who, as usual, were thoroughly noncommittal. Then being very tired, I headed for home. I was really feeling groggy by now. Getting back to the apartment was like reaching sanctuary. Groving for the light switch, I was thinking of what a hot shower would do for me. The next second before my fingers could touch the button, I froze. I froze because there in the dark, I could hear someone's heavy breathing, and it wasn't my own. While I waited, motionless trying to figure out what to do, a voice settled the problem for me. Turn on the light rays. You have company. Tell him, Richie. You've got lots of company, and we're both the good heaters, so you can drop yours on the floor, huh? I'm sure you understand him, Reyes. Drop the gun. Now, now the light. It was the suave gentleman of the kettle drum, Troxel. With him was a saddle-colored companion who looked tougher than a cheap steak. Well, Reyes? Care for a drink? I believe we'll pass up the hospitality for now. I came here because I want to know the story on Faye Carlisle and Johnny Taylor. I'm afraid you're several steps ahead of me. I'm reasonably certain you had nothing to do with the killing of either of them. Wait a second. The big blonde, he's dead too? Yeah, after you left. We found his car with blood all over it, and he was gone. Who was Johnny Taylor? He happened to be my partner. I'll mourn for Johnny. But I'm not going to allow my sadness to get in the way of good business. Put it concisely, Johnny was working on some kind of a deal. Whatever it was, if Johnny was in it, there was money involved. Now, I'd hate to see a good thing die just because Johnny did. If Taylor was your partner, why should he want to mix in anything shady? The kettle drum looks like a paying proposition to me. Take a better look next time you're there, Reyes. We've been dying for years. Ever since the military stopped making one of their favorite reservations. That's strictly a war, baby. You're probably not going to believe me, but I can't help you. Before you say that, take a look at these. He flipped them to me as he spoke. A packet of letters written in longhand in an odd sort of scroll. They were addressed to fay and unsigned. What do you think? Where did you get these? Johnny Taylor had them. But now that he's gone, I'm sure we can consider them our property. How do you figure that? Just taking my pick of the leftovers. That's my hand. Now, what's yours? I've been without sleep for about two days. I'm afraid I'm not thinking very clearly. Is he going to play clam, boss? I thought he would. You're going to have to let me handle him, huh? I'm afraid so, Ricky. All right. Take over. I'm sure. We're going to take him where there ain't no people around. It's going to hear me out. Come on, you sucker. This Ricky, or Ricci, whatever his name was, wasn't exactly the YMCA type. With him propelling me to the door with a snot of a luger and Troxel moving along with the Loof deadliness, I felt anything but preoccupied. And then... Are you going somewhere, Rice? Oh, Mark. And where have you been? Well, for the last ten minutes, I've been right by his door. Listen. Very glad to have you aboard. Hey, boys, I ain't going to pester you no more. Not while I got this smoker in my hand, are you, boys? Ah! And I wouldn't try that no more, either. You're liable to become an ambulance case. Now go on. Get back in the room, both of you. If you're smart, you won't try to follow us. Come on, Rice. You look as though you could use some coffee. Oh, brother, you sleepy. You know some I have never seen you look this punchy. Yes. Yes, yes. You can say yes. Didn't you go out to Faber's chemical company? Well, Sightney, you told me to, remember? Talk to anyone? No one there, but the watchman. Oh, you didn't get there. It left a dark, you know. Did you get inside? You're kidding. The watchman's name was Hullahan. So I got inside. Places full of vats, tubes, things like that. What about Faber's office? Nothing there except some mail. It was just laying around. Did you read it? Well, Sightney, I read it. There's a lot of advertisements. Hold on. Some people call them avoidism. I like advertising. Tell me the story. Yeah, a letter about one of them board and eatings that they have, you know. And another one saying that he passed a physical for no insurance policy. And hey, a big fat policy. It was a quarter of a million bucks. Will you do something for me? I am always doing something for you. As soon as I finish this... I'd like you to go out to the Faber place. Ask her to get through to Faber's nurse on the quiet. Ask her to grab every vial that's held any drug she's administered to Faber. Ask her to hold them and not say anything about it. Oh, great. And while I am doing all the heavy work, what are you going to be doing? I'm going to pay a visit to that chemical plant. At the plant, I ran into the watchman, Mark, at Charm, using the magic words Donovan sent me with just a bit of a brogue, a gained entry. He was a good watchman, though. He called the Faber home and got an OK from April. But he wouldn't go through the plant with me. Said he had a bad cold and had just finished a patrol. So I started the tour on my own. It was a big place, and I spent an hour on the first floor alone. Locating light switches wasn't always easy, and there were times when I got into trouble. Well, it was almost three o'clock when I reached the third floor, where I found just the setup I'd been searching for. April. I became upset when the watchman called about you. I decided to come down here. Well, you must have decided in a hurry you're still wearing slippers. Maybe I've been a little too hysterical about all this race. Perhaps we just better forget about it. I'm afraid it's too late for that, April. This is a case of murder. That girl's death mean concern us? It isn't only Faye Carlisle. Here, you come with me. Take a look inside this batch. Well, just the same race. She came very close to going into a dead faint. I remembered smelling ammonia in one of the tubes I'd investigated, so I found a mortar about the size of a cup and filled it with the stuff. It finally brought her out of her shock. I'll be all right now, race. Good girl, that's fine. But there's some kind of body in there. It was a body. The way that acid is working wouldn't be anything at all in just another few hours. Who is it, race? Well, I'm betting it's a lad by the name of Johnny Taylor. But who could have put him there? April, I'm afraid it was your husband. My husband? You can't be serious. I hate to say it, honey, but I'm very serious. Listen, some time ago your husband chased around with Faye Carlisle. Like a lot of other men, he was foolish enough to put his thoughts about her on paper. With your husband up for this political nomination, Faye and this boyfriend of hers figured these letters would make Arthur Faber good pickings for blackmail. But Arthur wouldn't take it. Faye Carlisle and shouted to death. Then he killed Johnny Taylor and brought him here. Taylor's body was shoved in the acid to make it disappear so it would look as though he'd just run out on Faye Carlisle's murder. No, how could Arthur do all that while he's been suffering from a heart attack? That was his alibi, his beautiful alibi. How could a man kill anyone while he was in bed with heart trouble? And that's why you've been so groggy. You were drugged. You were that nurse. So you'd be too groggy to know what you're doing out to commit murder. But what is this, heart trouble? Honey, have you ever heard of goof pills? Well, you wouldn't have, but they were used during the war by draft dodgers. It made them seem to have heart trouble. Your husband's a chemist. He knew how to make those pills for his own use. Racer, I can't believe all this. I'm sorry, honey. I'm afraid the police will. And I happen to have the motive in my pocket, the blackmail letters, with the handwriting matching your husband's office memos. And then there's the Johnny Taylor Corpus De Lecter. Arthur. It's a pity you had to discover all this, Mr. Racer. Pity for you, that is. It was Arthur Faber, all right, dappily dressed and looking as healthy as a round of golf. He was gripping a pistol and gripping it steadily. Arthur, you're ill. You shouldn't be here. I think Mr. Racer explained that situation very well, my dear. I even had that silly nurse giving me injections of water which she thought was medication. But I'd like to know what led you to suspect me, Mr. Racer. The doctor said your illness indicated a heart condition that had existed for a long time. But in your office, my partner found a letter that showed you just passed a physical examination for an insurance policy. Ah, yes. The unforeseen circumstance. It's a shame. Because now I shall have to see to it that you join our friend Johnny Taylor. And you too, my dear. Arthur. There's no other alternative. You'd clutter up my peace of mind, no way. Look, we're both allergic to acid, I'm sure. I'm really very sorry. All right, since you insist on the acid, I'm going to insist on this ammonia. Ah, you blinded me. Oh, yes. Sorry, Faber, but that's all for you. All right, honey. No more tears. Come on. Come on, I'll take you home. Now you can get some sleep, right? I don't feel much like it now, Marcus. The tiredness has passed. You don't sound as though it has. Something else now. That girl and what I had to do to her. Hey, that's right, isn't it? Yeah, that's right. She was an old flame, wasn't she? One of the biggest. And brightest. Yeah. Ah, but look. It ain't going to do you no good thinking about it. No, now there are times when thinking doesn't pay. Yeah. Hey, look, look. Do you want to stop for a drink, huh? Oh, yes. Tonight, I really need one. The Adventures of Frank Ray, starring Paul Dubov with Tony Barrett as Mark Donovan, comes to you from Hollywood. Others heard in tonight's cast were Betty Lou Gerson, Barney Phillips, Michael Ann Barrett, Peter Leeds, and Gerald Moore. This series is written and directed by Buckley Angel and Joel Murcott. The music is composed and played by Ivan Dittmars. Be sure to be with us again this time next week for another dramatic chapter in The Adventures of Frank Ray. Art Gilmore speaking. This is a B.P.S. production.