 Peter Chambers. Transcribed and starring as Peter Chambers, Dane Plot. A private eye. That's your business. Anything else? That's for laughs. You're not an early go-to-better, but this night for a change you've hit the sack fairly early. You've turned, you've twisted, you've beaten at the pillow, and finally you're firmly entwined with the first of your usual tortured nightmares when... Peter Chambers. Oh, yeah, yeah. Must I? Okay, I'll be there. Yeah, I'll get dressed and I'll be there as quickly as possible. Goodbye. Your midnight telephone caller is Miss Claire Connolly, press agent for a nightclub with the unusual name of, uh, the Hotspot. She worried about a small event that took place there maybe a half hour ago, a little thing called murder. Seems that the main attraction at the club, the band leader by name Johnny Silver, probably the most fabulously successful band leader in America, caught up with a slight but deadly dose of lead poisoning. You throw on some clothes and you hot footer to the Hotspot. Claire Connolly is waiting for you outside. First thing I want you to do, Peter, I want you to look the joint over, just so you know what the setup is. It should have been looked over plenty by now, don't you have cops? The place is stinking with cops. It leads you in and you do what she asks you to do. You look. The Hotspot on 54th and 5th, the joint that's really jumping, owned by an ex-gangster named George Black, who doesn't have the gangster anymore for a living. This Hotspot is doing better legitimately than he can ever do illegitimately. Seems the excitement is over and the suckers are back eating and drinking and having good time. Claire takes you up to the office and there's nobody there except you and Claire. Now you've seen the joint. I've seen it before, honey. I wanted you to get a good look at the layout. Like I said, I've seen it before, dim lighting, a lot of atmosphere, bandstand for Johnny Silva's orchestra, and then the stage for Rita Dupre's dancing group and then the customers seated around little tables and upstairs at balcony running all around the joint. That's where he got it from, the balcony. How, what, and when? Maybe a half, three-quarters of an hour ago. Johnny Silva's on stage with his band, doing his latest composition, talking back to the blues. Suddenly there's a shot from the balcony and Johnny keels over, dead. And the gun? It was flung down from the balcony. Nobody touched it. Where is it now? The cops have it. And who per chance was on the balcony? No customers, if that's what you mean. This has been a comparatively quiet night. George Black seats nobody up here, not unless the downstairs is overcrowded. Well, let me see. He gets it from upstairs here from the balcony. No customers, so it figures for an inside job. It's pretty good for this hour of the night, huh? Good enough, since it's exactly what the police say. Who's in charge of the shindig? An old friend of yours and a good friend of yours, Detective Lieutenant Louis Parker. Oh, the best, honey, absolutely the best. And now my sweet, why me? I beg your pardon. Well, why pull me out of bed, unless it's sort of to save your own skin? We've been friends, Pete. We were very good friends a long time ago. Yeah, that was a long time ago. Now, we're friends. Well, it's been established that he was killed by George Black's gun, for which George has a license, of course. The gun was kept in an open drawer right here upstairs in this office. And I can come and go here as I please. So that makes you a suspect? Not entirely. But I know that I was heard to threaten him. Whom? Johnny Silver. When? Last night. Where? Right here in his office. By whom? By Rita Dupre. Well, let's hear about that. There's not much to hear. I found out that Johnny had been doing a terrible thing. True. Eddie Gale. Eddie Gale. Oh, he used to be a drummer with Johnny's band, his arranger. And then he retired, no? Yeah. Eddie's always here at the hotspot. He's here tonight. Anyway, when I found out what Johnny had been doing to Eddie, I talked to him. To Johnny, here in his office. I'm Johnny's press agent, too. Anyway, the upshot of it was an argument. Johnny fired me. Oh. But that wasn't all. Suddenly, he made a pass at me. We struggled, and I remember my saying, you ought to be killed. Somebody ought to kill you. Maybe I ought to do it myself. Well, those are threats, all right. Hey, I'm a real smart detective tonight. Well, in the heat of excitement, people say things like that without meaning them. In the truth. Anyway, Rita Dupre walked in just then, dressed as usual in that sultry dancing costume of hers. She heard me. So? So she'll give the cops an earful, no question. Oh, why? I thought you two were friends. Not anymore. Not when she saw me tussling with Johnny. Oh, you mean that Rita Dupre and Johnny Silver... I thought that was a press agent's concoction. It was. But she began to believe her notices. Happens. It's a real cock-eyed setup. George Black brought her here from the West Coast because he's nuts about her. She tells me to play up a phony romance between Johnny and Rita for the newspapers. She really starts going for Johnny. And George starts to do a slow burn. And then Johnny... Johnny suddenly starts going for me. A real merry-go-round. And a deadly one. But I didn't kill him, Pete. Believe me. What about that Eddie Gale deal? What did he tell you? But right there you get an interruption. An interruption in tandem. George Black and Detective Lieutenant Louis Parker. Well, Petey Chambers. Hi, Louis. I'll go to my grave and you'll pop up, huh? What are you doing here, Pete? Business, formal retainer by Miss Claire Connolly, services to be rendered. If you may need those services. I'd like to talk with you, Miss Connolly. Outside, please. Certainly, Lieutenant. So you're left along with George Black. George Black. Big, powerful and slightly sinister. Well, as long as you're here, pal, you can work for me, too. Like how? Like so. Here you are, pal. I'll take 500 bucks worth of your services. And the nature of such services, pal? Keeping me out of the jam jar. How far are you in the jam jar? Look, my gun killed him. Everybody around here knows I hated his guts. Why, Daddy-O? Because I don't like nobody fiddling with my girl. Rita, do you pray? Who else? Everybody always blames a guy rather than a gal. I get this straight. I don't care about everybody. I care about me. I'm stuck on Rita so I can't blame her. But that Johnny Silver. I want him to lay off. It's like telling a fly to lay off molasses. Oh, excuse me. Rita, baby, come on in. Come on in, sweetie. Rita, do pray. Nobody's been stacked like that since clear Patrick. Black hair, black eyes, a patrician nose, listening red lips, and a costume while weep. It's a dance costume, red gloves to the elbows, red silk stockings to the hips, and the rest of it all red sequins and briefer than a shrunken bikini. Beautiful, ain't she? Yeah, yeah. She always walk around like this in the costume. Yes, I do. It's crazy to keep changing. Yeah, it's crazy. My dance group goes on eight times during the evening. Rita, do pray. Oh, no, Father George, we're well acquainted. Oh. Now don't, don't, don't start with that jealousy jiggle. I knew her from way back before she went to the West Coast, before she met you. That's true. We've been acquainted for much time. George, George Black. Yeah? Come on out here. My boys are back in the lab. I want to talk to you about the gun. Okay, Lieutenant. And so, as must happen sooner or later, you and I are alone again. With we, my love, you can drop that phony French accent. So? I knew you when you were Rita Dubberman and you were living in the Bronx. I am Rita Dubray and I was born in Paris. You are Rita Dubberman and you were born in the Bronx. I'm a French dances. And you're death on wheels to all men you think. Except I got a hunch to Johnny Silver, who in turn was death on wheels to all women. The beast. Oh, you can't take it, huh? You know, you had a reputation that way, thin skinned and deadly when you riled up. You can dish it out, but you can't take it. What's the matter? Johnny Boy pushed you around? I know what you're trying to do, but you're not going to trap me, not me. I did not kill him. Ask about that Claire. How she threatened him. I know all about that. So do not try to get funny with me. So I speak to George and then they find you in the river and you're wearing a cement zootsuit. Zootsuits are old-fashioned Rita. George Black is an old-fashioned man. Then you and Parker are sitting in a secluded spot listening to the strains of Johnny Silver's music, without benefit of Johnny Silver, and lapping up some of George Black's scotch on the house. The minute after he was shot, practically simultaneously the gun was thrown from the balcony. One of the waiters saw it coming down and he stood guard over it. Nobody touched it till we arrived. Now let me get the picture, Louis. Johnny Silver is on the bandstand playing his music. He gets shot from the balcony, one shot and he's dead. Then immediately the gun is flung down, George Black's gun, and the waiter stands guard over it until the cops come. Very good, Jill. Now you may take two giant steps. One, finger prints on the gun, Louis. Nothing, not a one. Clean as a whistle. And your suspects? No customers on the balcony, strictly an inside job. Only four people had any interest in Johnny Silver. George, Rita, Claire, and Eddie Gale. Yeah, yeah, Eddie Gale. Pete, guess what's the word on him? I give up. Only yesterday, right in this joint, I got this from two different waiters. Not what? He was heard to say about Johnny Silver, I'm gonna get that bum, I'm gonna get him good. That's what he was heard to say. Are you sure you don't want to drink, Louis? Oh, thanks, Pete, now what I'm working on. That's what he said. I'm gonna get that bum, I'm gonna get him good. Did he have access to George Black's gun? Oh, they all had access. He kept it in his office and a desk drawer. The drawer was open. Well, did you question him, this Eddie Gale? Yeah, he's a tough nut to handle. Nervous little guys, always half loaded. Clammed with me, stayed clammy. Do you mind if I try? Yeah, I wish you would. One time I really wish you would. You know these musician types better than I do. Is he around? Yeah, sure. Say over there. Where? Corner tablet. Little Eddie Gale, looking like a lost soul. You meander over and you pull up a chair. Hi, Thomas. It's a pleasure to have some pleasurable company you I like. Hey, waiter, drink for my friend here. A couple of drinks for my friend. And a couple of drinks for my friend's friend. That's me. Eddie Gale, neatly dressed in sharp clothes, his shirt collar long and billowy. Eddie Gale, pale as death, his small wolf smile infinitely sad. Eddie Gale, small, slender and tense. You get the feeling you're near a high explosive with the fuse going fast. Well, he finally got it, Johnny Silver. Brother of my glad. Look, they're pointing the finger at you, pal. Yeah, first pointing the finger at me. Cops. The Johnny Snocker? Well, he got it from George Black's gun. That's George Black's headache. No, no, no, no. Guy wouldn't use his own gun. Sure he would if he wanted to as a cover-up. Then he says somebody clipped it out of his desk drawer. That drawer was always open. So was the door to his office. You see what I mean? See what you mean? No, I don't get you. Well, you knew where the gun was. You knew the office door was open and the desk drawer. Yeah, but... You knew your way around this club so you can get up to the balcony plus... What? Plus, the cops have a report that only yesterday you said I'm gonna get that bum and I'm gonna get him good. Wait a minute. I was gonna shoot lawyers at that bum, not bullets. For what? Claren mentioned some beef you had against him but she didn't say what. Is it because he fired you out of the band? I shouldn't be much. Any band would be glad to grab you. You're a great drummer and a great arranger. Thanks. It ain't that. Well, you haven't been working. That's only because they don't want to work. I don't need to see. I got plenty of scratch, Dad. What's the beef against Johnny Silver? That bum was a crook. What'd he steal? You know them songs Johnny's been writing? Talking back to the blues, all of them. Johnny Silver, the great new gush, when the new porter, the new urban Berlin. Yeah, I know. I wrote him. You wrote him? Me. I wrote him. Every place a tomb. You're kidding. Hope to die, Dad. Well, he was a funny kind of crook. Sweet Johnny Silver. He stole my soul. That's what he'd done. But he'd give me half the scratch. Do that a little slower, Eddie. Oh, once when I was with the band, see, I wrote a song and he thought it was great. Look, he says, look, Eddie Boy says, it's great, it's groovy, it's got schmaltz, but you gotta have weight to throw around in the music publishing world. Man, I got the weight, Eddie Boy. Meaning? Meaning he had a friend, Sam August. You know August records, August sheet music. Well, anyways, he brings the song to Sam August, says he wrote it, he, Johnny Silver, and Sam publishes. That's how the whole deal started. All his songs? You mean all the Johnny Silver compositions? Every great place said one of them. Ah, you give me half the profits right in the button, but after a while, that's no good. Money doesn't cover it. If you got pride, if you got a soul pushing inside of you, you begin to crack up. I guess so. A person needs recognition. That's it, Dad, recognition, that's a word, Dad. What did I get? Bubkiss, that's what I got, money. Well, after a while, you begin to get sick. So, yesterday, we had a showdown. I wanted, you know what you said, full credit recognition. You know what he told me? No. That's just what he said. No. Plus, he said that if I gave him the gate, he'd see to it that I'd never have a song published in this year town. He said I was getting half the loot, so what was I squawking about? That when you threatened him? Yeah. But with fireworks, not firearms. Lawyers, not bullets. Well, that's my story, Shamis. Me, a wise guy, all of a sudden, I'm a little babe in a witz. And you told all this to Claire. Sure, sure, sure, I told her, and she went to bat for me. So what does he do? He fires her as a press agent. Then he makes a pass at her. He was getting sick and tired of her to pray. Let me tell you something, that guy was a big nut in that dirty... My old Parker's working hard, and he's beginning to steam like a cauldron. He puts them over the grill, one after another, until they're sizzling. Rita, do pray. I did not kill him. Yes, I will admit to a bad temper. I will admit to jealousy. I will admit that he was finished with me, that I was clinging. But I did not kill him. George Black. Yeah, yeah, it was my gun. Sure, I was plenty sore at that rat. Maybe I would have come around to puttin' the boots to the guy, but I didn't come around to a lieutenant. Somebody did me the favor first. Nobody fiddles around with a chick that belongs to George Black. Claire Connolly. Yeah, I threatened him. I said the words, but I didn't mean them literally. That's what I said. I said, somebody oughta kill ya, and maybe I oughta do it myself. I was excited that they were just words, words. And Eddie Gale. Yeah, that, I threatened him, but it was fireworks I was gonna throw at him, not firearms. Lawyers, court proceedings, attachments, garnishes. You know what I mean. They're the works. Parker's barbecue breaks up, and everybody scatters, and when you finally wander into George's office, Rita Dupre is there, seated. Gorgeous in her lovely costume, along legs up on the desk. If you think you're going to talk to me, talk fast. I'm resting my legs. Yeah, so I see. Our last show is going on right away. Your last show has gone on. What kind of a crack is that? No crack, sister, except that you murdered a guy. Trying to trap me again or you will not succeed. You trapped yourself, sister. The lieutenant's been a little busy, but as soon as he simmers down, he'll hit him just like it hit me, and then baffle. You're in the can. And just what hit you? Four people had a finger on Johnny Silver. You, Eddie Gale, George Black, and Claire Connally. You, because you hated the guy, you made a punk out of you, tossed you aside like the proverbial dish rag. Shut up! Four suspects, but no fingerprints on the gun. And it landed downstairs practically simultaneously with the shooting. Nobody had time to wipe that gun. That's conclusive. Not one single fingerprint. You want to know why? I think I know why. You bet your boots you do, because one of the suspects is wearing gloves all the time. It's part of her costume. Okay. That's all for you, fella. George Black has slipped in, and Georgie is wearing her gun in his fist. A nasty-looking little automatic. All right, Shamus. You done your bit. You're through. Did you know she killed him, George? I don't know it yet. Did you, baby? Yes, yes, I killed him. Why? Because I loved him. Because he pushed me around. Because he laughed at me. Because when I pleaded with him, he spied at me. He spied at my face. Honey, honey, your French accent's slipping. Shut up, Shamus. Baby, come here. Now, don't you worry about Sherlock here. Don't worry about nobody, see? I'll get you out of this. You and I, there's Cuba, South America. I got contacts, baby. The biggest and the best. But you got no brains, Georgie. Poor Georgie would make you an accessory. You two would be on the land for the rest of your lives. He's right, George. Rita, Rita, come here. Where are you going? I want to be honest for once in my life. I don't love you, George. I want you to know that. Look, baby, I know everything. You leave that to me, honey. As long as you're like me, just as long as you're like me a little bit, that's all that. Well, you're sweet, George, but I can't do this to you. If you're going to do it, this is the time. When they start making with the romance talk, they're off guard, so you jump. You... He missed you. And Rita's down on the floor. And by the time Parker and his boys pile in, Rita's dead, and George is standing over her, fluttering. And then it's over, and Parker's talking to you. That's funny how things work out. She gets it quick and sure instead of waiting for a trial and then getting it from the state anyway. George Black, we've been trying to pin a rap on him for a long time. Now he's pinned the rap on himself. Legal double-header. Funny how things work out. Yeah, Louie, it's funny. It's hilarious. You can just die laughing. In Clark was starred as Peter Chambers. Crime and Peter Chambers transcribed was created and written by Henry Cain. Others in the cast were Bill Zuckert, heard as the tenant Parker, Rita Lynn as Claire and Donald Buca as Eddie. It was directed by Fred Way. And this is Fred Collins inviting you to tune in next week, same time, same station for Dane Clark in Crime and Peter Chambers. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.