 Murder. It's midnight. So you're dropping a chicken, huh? Hey, guys. Yeah? What do you know? Chickens turning out to be a rooster all of a sudden. Cock-a-doodle-doo. Cock-a-doodle-doo. In case anybody here was interested. From here on in, the name is just plain Charlie Nicks. Midnight. The witching hour when the night is darkest. Our fears the strongest. And our strength at its lowest end. Midnight. When the graves can't open and death strikes. How? You learn the answer to your question. And death strikes. How? You learn the answer in just a minute then. Trigger man. Tales of mystery and terror by Radio's foremost mystery writers. Our story written by Max Ehrlich is different from any of the other tales you have heard in this program. Its mystery is not that of the supernatural, but of the unknown quantities in the human soul. And so because it has suspense and complete credibility, we give you Trigger Man. Was that the door? No. No, not yet. Not that it matters. You can't get very far with a slug in your guts. But I can sit here. And when I come through that door, I'll show him what chicken Charlie Knicks can do with a gun. Sure, maybe it'll be for the last time. But what can I lose now? It's funny how it all comes back to you in the end. Just a year and a half ago that it all started. But I remember it like it was yesterday. I was standing back in the doorway waiting, waiting for some sucker to come along. I was down at the waterfront and it was plenty dark. I stood there, the rod cold in my hand waiting. Finally, I heard footsteps. A man and a woman. I waited until they were almost opposite the doorway. And then, hey buddy, got a match? Why, yes, I think so. Never mind, get your dukes up. Tell him he's got a gun. Stick up, huh? Aren't you smart sucker? Come on, reach. Get those hands up before I let you have it. Yeah, it's better. Okay, lady, let's begin with you. Hold on. Hand over that purse. Better do as he says, Ann. All right, tell him. Thanks, lady. Thanks very much. Okay, buddy, let's have your wallet. I said come across with your wallet. Not tonight, chicken. What do you mean? Hey, wait a minute. How come you know my name? It's my job to know it. And your face, too. The name's Riley. From headquarters. Con Riley. Plain clothes. Yeah. Keep up those hands. Keep them up, Ralph Dwayne. I know you won't, chicken. Tom. Not for a lot more than I've got in my wallet. Tom, what are you doing? He'll kill you. I don't think he will. Will you, chicken? Keep away from me, flat foot. Don't come a step nearer, you hear? Not a step, and I'll splatter you all over the sidewalk. You haven't got the nerve, chicken. You know it, and I know it. Now, drop that gun. Keep away. Keep waiting here. I ain't afraid to shoot. I'll tell you, I'll let you have it. Then what are you waiting for? What? That was for the gun, chicken. And this is for you. No. Hold me up. No, no, no. I'll be right. Pull the gun on me, will you? Oh, Tom. It's okay, Ann. It's all over. You could have been killed. Walking straight into a hold-up man and knocking the gun out of his hand. Well, I knew he wouldn't shoot, Ann. You know. You know. But how? His name is Charlie Nix. Chicken Charlie. Oh, he carries a gun, yeah. But he's not a gunman. Because he's never used it, and he never will. Just plain chicken-hearted. Yellow. That's why they call him chicken. Still, you took an awful chance, Tom. That was the first time. Not for chicken, Charlie. Now, then you see if you can find a phone, honey, and call headquarters while I keep an eye on this yellow skunk here. That's the way it was. I just didn't have the nerve to put the blast on anyone. Sometimes in my room, I'd put my gun on a table and just look at it. I keep thinking, if we only had the nerve, I'd be one of Angelo Dinelli's trigger men instead of his errand boy. The rest of the mob would respect me instead of slapping me around and calling me chicken. That's what got me more than anything else the way they laughed and called me chicken. It wasn't that I didn't try. That time I held up Riley, I was going to let him have it. I wanted to, but I don't know what the last minute I got all cold inside. My fingers got stiff for numb, and it cost me a year in a pen. The day after I got out, I was sitting in the Boulevard Cafe, having myself a beer, when in walked the boss, Angelo Dinelli. It's great having you back, chicken. Thanks, Angelo. Thanks. By the way, I saw an old pal of yours the other day. Yeah? Who? Tom Riley. Riley, huh? Yeah, it's too bad you didn't knock him off that night, chicken. Yeah. But one of these days, Angelo, I'm going to meet him, and then I'll... Poor kid, I know how you feel after all when a guy takes your gun away and makes you look like a chump. Yeah, yeah, he made me look like a chump, all right? But I'm different now, Angie. You're in a clink. Well, I got a different kind of nerve now. Wait and see. I'm gonna... Sure, sure, but take it easy, kid. There's plenty of time, plenty. You just got out of ster, and you got yourself to worry about. What do you mean, Angie? I did my time tonight. I'm in a clear... Sure, chicken, sure. But if you ask me, the pen didn't do you any good, you. You look kind of all in. You don't feel so good, do you? What... What makes you say that, Angie? Oh, I don't know. Your face ain't got any color, and you're breathing hard all the time. Well, I... I feel okay. Sure. I ain't saying anything's wrong with your chicken. But you never can tell until a good doc checks you over, huh? Yeah. Maybe you're right, Angie. Maybe I ought to see a doctor, huh? Now you're talking sense, kid. Tell you what I'll do. I'll take you to my own doctor, Dr. Leonard. He's a big specialist, and he'll give you the once-over ride. Yeah, but he... He probably comes high, and I... Forget it, chicken, forget it. I'll take care of it. Won't cost you a dime. Hey, that's pretty white on you, Angie. Think nothing of it, kid. After all, you're one of my boys, ain't you? Yeah. Yeah, I am. Well, if there's one thing Angie Donnelly does, it's to take care of his boys. A couple of days later, Angie Donnelly set up an appointment for me with his doctor, Leonard. I went to his office, and he gave me a real checkup from soup to nuts. And when he got through, I... Well, I didn't like the look on his face. Sit down, Mr. Nix, and let's talk. Doc, what's the matter? Did you find something wrong? Care for a cigarette? Never mind a stalling, Doc. Give it to me straight. Is it good or bad? I'm sorry, but it's bad. You mean my... my chest? It isn't your chest. It's your heart. My... my heart? What about it? You've got a severe aneurysm there. A what? What's that mean? It means that you've got a serious weakness of the heart muscle wall. Yeah, yeah, but how serious? I'm sorry, Mr. Nix, but you haven't got more than six months to live. Six months? Yeah, that's what he said. Six months to live. For a while, I didn't get it, and you don't get things like that right away, and then... Six months, and... He gave me six months to live, something I'll be just walking along and maybe sleeping, and it'll... it'll come. It's tough, chicken. Plenty tough. Yeah. Know how you feel. Nobody knows how I feel, except maybe a guy in a death house. Yeah, that's what it's like. Like Norman, you're gonna burn, waiting for it. Take it easy, chicken. Yeah. Have another drink, huh? Yeah, thanks. Thanks, Angie. You're okay, okay. Maybe the doc was wrong. There's always a chance. No, no, Angie, check me twice just to make sure. There ain't a thing I can do, not a thing, except wait for it. Just sit around the... wait... the croak. Listen, kid, you've got six months to live. Okay. You know what I'd do if I had six months to live? What? What would you do? I'd live. Yeah, I'd spend all my time living champagne, dames, I'd have more. I'd do all the things I ever wanted to do, but didn't have the nerve to do before. You see what I mean, kid? I'd live a lifetime in six months. Sure, sure, but that takes dough. You can get the dough? How? For me. Look, chicken, you always wanted to be a trigger, man, didn't you? Yeah. Well, I'm hiring you right here and now at 500 a week. 500? But Angie, you know I ain't got the nerve to do it. Sure you have, but it's different now. You don't have to be afraid of a thing, not a thing. Well, you can go around blasting guys like Clay Pigeons if you want to. What do you care? Suppose they send you to the death house. You've got nothing to lose anyway, have you? Your heart's bad, ain't it? You've only got a little while anyway, either way. Yeah, that's right, Angie. That's right. What can I lose? Denelli was right. This was my chance. I packed a new gap and started to look for Riley. Riley, the dick who'd set me up. Yeah. He was gonna be number one. You're becoming along here any minute, kid. Yeah, yeah. This is it, chicken. There's Riley. There he is. No, chicken, not yet. Where he comes closer? Look, Angie. Hey, I first one that comes hardest, kid. The rest are easy. Look at him, pal. He knows from nothing. Take your beat on him. You can't miss. Okay, chicken, go ahead. Let him have it. Go ahead, blast him. You did it, you did it. Yeah, I... I guess I did. Flat on the sidewalk, colder than yesterday's hash. You did it, Charlie. Angie, I... You... You just called me... Charlie. Sure, kid, why not? You're not chicken anymore. Now, maybe we better get out of here. Our roar's away up the street, leaving the body lying there in a pool of blood. As the clock strikes 12 for... Murder! Murder at midnight. To the story of Trigger Man. Where are they, anyway? Getting kind of anxious to see them. Even... even with a slug in my gut, I'll be able to give them quite a reception. Funny how a guy can... How different it's all been since I put the blast on Riley. That was my first. And the toughest one. After that, it was easy. There were plenty of guys in Angie Denelli's way, and I aimed to please. Whenever I watched one of them fold up with that funny expression on his face, I... kind of helped. It helped me to forget how it was with me. It was like a champagne drunk. But then the hangover would come, and... I'd remember that I had less than six months to live myself. Yeah, I was a different guy, all right. Take what happened a couple of days after I got Riley. We was having a meeting up at the hideaway in a new job when a character named Bummy Divine started shooting his mouth off. Hey, chicken! Still carrying around that popcorn he is? What did you call me? Chicken! Ain't that your name? The name is Charlie. Charlie Nix. Hey, guys! Yeah? What do you know? Chicken's turning out to be a rooster all of a sudden. Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo! In case anybody else here is interested, the name from herein is just plain... Charlie Nix. They didn't laugh at that. No one did again ever. I was it. I took chances where no other trigger man would. Why not? What'd I have to lose? A few months I'd be through anyway. It was a difference. Meanwhile, I lived. I painted the town red. Bought myself tailored suits. Hit the clubs every night. The gambling joints. And the dames. Why, I had to fight them off. You can do a lot with 500 bucks a week. Sure, I was hot. Plenty hot. The cops couldn't figure out at the beginning who was doing all the fancy gun work, but they were getting warm and they were getting close. I had to watch myself. And then one night, they were knocking off a fur warehouse. I was in the lookout car out front when suddenly... Hey, Charlie! A brawl car! Yeah. Come on, Mike. Let's get out of here. They're shooting at us. Dummy guns! Hang on, Charlie! They come right after us. Hold it steady, Mike. I'm gonna try to nail a tire. Hey, Charlie! Charlie, what's the matter? I'm hit. And I did you my... In my eyes, it was a smell of chlorophone. And the doctor was just putting away some instruments. Mike was there, too, with a gap in his hand, making sure that the doc would cooperate. Hello, Charlie. How do you feel? I don't know. What happened? The doc here just dug a slug out of your chest. How am I... how am I doing, doc? You'll be all right. Lucky you've got a good heart. Otherwise, you'd never have made it. What? Did... Did you say my heart was good? That's right. But I don't get it. I thought I had a bad tick. They told me I didn't have more than a few months to live. With that heart, my friend, you can live to be a hundred. That is, if the police don't interfere. I spent three weeks laid up after that in bed. And every day the boss would send me flowers, comic books, and all kinds of stuff. A real thoughtful guy, Angie. But I was thoughtful, too. There were some things I had to add up for myself. I had to find out whether I was living on borrowed time or not. As soon as I could walk, I made a beeline for Angie to Nellie's specialist, Doc Leonard. But I found out right away that Doc Leonard didn't live there anymore. A dentist was in the office instead. Then I looked up the superintendent. Yes, I'm in charge here. What can I do for you? If it's about your part... It isn't. I'm looking for Dr. Leonard. Dr. Leonard? Oh, the one that was in the dentist's office before. That's right. He'd be nowhere he went. No, he didn't leave any forwarding address. It's a funny thing about him. Yeah? Why? Why, he paid us a month's rent in advance and moved in equipment and everything. But he only stayed two days. Moved out at night. No notice, nothing. Just came and went. I see. Never could figure it out. That's the way it was. Sorry, I couldn't be of more help, mister. That's okay. You've told me enough. All I want to know. So that was it. I had the answer. I went home, took my old gun out of the drawer, slipped it into my shoulder host. Felt good there. Just like old times. I was just putting on my hat and coat when the phone rang. Hello. Hello, Charlie. How do you feel? Fine, Angie. Fine. Funny thing you calling up just now. Yeah, why? I was just thinking of you. Where are you now? I'm over at my apartment. I feel fine, fine. I swear. Okay, I'll be right over. And Angie. Thanks for everything. The flowers and stuff. Funny how a guy acts sometimes. I remember in the cab and the way over, I was like I was cold inside and out. I should have been excited, but I wasn't. I came up to Angie's apartment and knocked on the door. Me. Charlie. Oh, come on in, Charlie. Yeah, thanks. Well, you're up and around. That kid is great, great. Yep. Not that it makes much difference. You see, Angie, my six months is supposed to be up tomorrow. Is that right? Yeah, that's right. You know something, Angie? I feel fine, fine. And yet, I'm supposed to croak. Well, it's just like I said, kid. Maybe Doc Leonard was wrong. Yeah, yeah, that's what I thought. Maybe he was wrong. You know, made a mistake. Sure. So, this afternoon, I went up to see him. You would? You did, huh? Yeah, yeah. And you know what, Angie? He doesn't live there anymore. No. In fact, he only set up practice there a couple of days. Kind of set me to wondering. Uh-huh. Wondering, uh, what? Whether this Doc Leonard wasn't a doctor after all, but just a phony. I, uh, I don't get it. Why, uh, why should he be? Suppose you tell me, Angie. I, uh, I don't know what you mean. Oh. And suppose I tell you, Angie, this Doc Leonard was your boy. Between you, you framed me with this bad hot gag. You needed a gunster who could take chances, and I was your pigeon. Wait a minute, Charlie. I have something. It was easy, wasn't it, then? Now he talking to chump like me into it when I thought I only had six months to go. You know, I wouldn't be afraid anymore. Sure. What could I lose? And so you got me to do your dirty work for you and you were somewhere else with an airtight alibi. And when the heat was turned on, you knew what it'd be on me. You're wrong, kid. You see, you were supposed to live six months, and that's all you're going to live. Don't do any richin', Angie. Don't! You taught me how to use a gun, Angie. You should have just let me stay. Chicken Charlie nicks. Yeah. Yeah, he got me in the belly with his first one. But I got him before he could repeat. There he is, lying on his own rug, soaking in his blood. And it's for me. Well, there ain't much I can do, but wait. Somebody must have heard the shots, called the cops. Funny how I feel now. How different it is. When you think of it, if I'd stayed Chicken Charlie, I wouldn't be here now with a slug in my guts. Like the doc said, I could have lived to be maybe a hundred. It ain't old Chicken Charlie. Hello, copper. What did you call me? Why, we've been looking all over for you, Chicken, but it looks like somebody saved the state some dough. Not yet. I've still got enough stuff to stay away. Don't come any closer here. No. Why not, Chicken? Because I'm a killer, that's why. Because I got nothing to live for anyway. Keep away from me, do you hear? Keep away from me. Oh, what? Give me that rod. I'll stop, you can't. Sure, I can. Once a Chicken, always a Chicken. His eyes wide and incredulous, a hunched figure slips from the deep armchair, falls to the floor, next to the body of the man he killed. And somewhere in the distance, a clock in a church steeple starts charming for... Murder! ...with us again when death is our unseen guest. And the clocks strike twelve for... Murder! Part of Chicken Charlie Knicks was played by Bill Quinn. With music by Charles Paul, Murder at Midnight is directed by Anton M. Leder.