 Yes, it's another case for that most famous of all man hunters. The detective whose ability at solving crime is unequal in the case of detective fiction, Nick Carter, master detective, tonight's curious adventure. The corpse in the cab or Nick Carter and the mystery of the murder in the park. Taxi, taxi. Mr. Ramsey, you are very kind indeed to take such an interest in this problem. Well, dear fellow, I consider it my civic duty. Taxi. Here's a cab now. Yes. OK, gents, make it snappy. We're blocking traffic. All right, you get in first. My party, you know, my party. Thank you. Where to, gents? I guess the quickest way to get there is through the park. Yes, drive through the park. I'll tell you where to turn. OK. Believe it is on West 54th Street and there's a flag out there. Excuse me, driver. Yeah? Do you mind if I shut this glass partition between us? Go right ahead, boss. You're paying the fare. Yeah, let me do it for you. Well, that's better. Nice winter evening, stars twinkling, ought to pick us up for the grim business ahead. Lucky thing I ran into you. Lucky thing. Yes, indeed, Mr. Ramsey. It seems fate destined me to make your acquaintances afternoon. Yes, lucky thing. Just my little way of keeping air. Out of the windpipe. My dear fellow, mighty lucky thing I ran into you tonight. You got to help me, Nick. You got it. They'll slap me and stir. Now, take it easy, shorty. Take it easy. And tell me again exactly what happened. Like I said, two guys hail my cab. One of them says to drive through the park. He'll tell me where to turn up. And when you get out of the park? The one guy opens the partition again and says to pull up. He's getting out. He tells me to drive the other guy to the precinct police station. And Nick, if I hadn't looked around when I came to the intersection and seen what I seen, I'd have driven right up to the bull house with a dead body in my cab. Me, shorty Bentano. You don't remember what the man looked like, shorty. In the dark? I ain't got cat's eyes, Nick. Gee, what's that? You are jumpy. And just Patsy buzzing me in the talk back. Oh. Nick, in the inimitable words of Mr. Winshell, mighty... Enough to order yourself a sandwich, Patsy. We've got work to do. Work tonight? Mm-hmm. And Patsy, get me a police headquarters. Lieutenant Riley. How can, Nick? You're going to turn me in, Nick? I thought you'd help me. I am going to help you, shorty. But the sooner the police know about the murdered man outside in your cab, the better it is for you. You're crazy, Nick. I've done time. I ain't got a chance. If the cops find that stiff in my buggy, it's curtains for me. I'm getting out of here. Shorty, sit down there. Nick, they'll give me the hot seat for something I never done. No, they won't, shorty. Not well, my name's Nick Carter. Get back on a sidewalk, buddy. Nobody gets doing... It beats hard, Nick. Not one bit of identification on this body. No bullet trace, no knife, no nothing. What did you want the murderer to do, Riley? Leave his calling card? Ah, I'm always getting stuck with one of these dud cases. It takes months to solve them. We don't even know who the stiff is. Now, Riley, flash your light inside here again. Oh, sure, sure. You see something? I'm just looking. You see, these pockets are turned inside out. Ah, the motive was robbery, all right. No, Riley, I don't think so. It doesn't look prosperous enough to rob. Ah, Nick, you're always looking for what's not there. That might mean something too. Ah, Riley, evidently the murderer didn't care to have his victim's identity uncovered too soon. Say, what are you looking at his hands for, Nick? Riley, have you laboratory analyzed this white powder under the nail of his right index finger? Well, say, there is something under his fingernail. Yes, I have an idea. You'll find it's chalk. Chalk? Well, sure you're a smart one, Nick. With these lily-white hands, hey, this guy was a pool player, a professional, maybe. Maybe, but don't bank on it. Now, Riley, about shorty. I'm holding him, Nick. Never fear about that. Now, look, Riley, he's a favor to me. Don't pull him in here. Oh, great jump and banshees, Nick. I've got to. Listen, Riley, he had nothing to do with this murder. If he were a party to it, he'd have dumped the body out somewhere, wouldn't he? Well... Certainly he would. Shorty's been on the right side of the fence ever since he got out of the big house. And he's given me a hand on cases from time to time. I know you owe him a favor and I owe you a barrel of them. Well, that's about it. Well, okay. I'll shut my eyes for 24 hours. No longer, though, mind you. Thanks, Riley. Well, Nick, where are you going? To find a murderer. Wait, this is some buggy you got here, Nick. Four speeds ahead, a siren, two search lights. Anytime you need a chauffeur, regular, I'll hire on. Like driving my car. It's like handling a baby carriage. Uh-oh, we're turning to 54th Street now, Nick. All right, Shorty. Slow down a little. Now, what was it you heard your passenger say? One says the quickest way to get there is through the park. I'll tell you where to turn off. And then the other guy says it's on West 54th Street and there's a flag up. And then the other guy shuts the partition and I don't hear no more. Well, 54th Street doesn't run very far here on this side. I don't see nothing on this block. Flags, flags. Usually in public buildings, don't they? You think maybe this is going to be a clue, Nick? Shorty, everything's a clue when you don't have much to go on. Nick, look, flagpole. Hell, very handsome flagpole. Yeah, but it's a police station. A police station? Good. What's good about it? Let's get out of here. You're safe until tomorrow night, Riley. Riley keeps his word. You want they should keep going slow? Nope. I got the first link in our chain. You can put the speed on again. Where to now? To pick up Patsy. I sent her to the Bureau of Missing Persons on 30th Street. Oh, Nick, another carpouse. I don't like them places. George Day, 2345 Elmhurst Drive, Occupation Truck Driver. The last scene was wearing grey coveralls. He's not the one. Gee, Nick, the guy ain't been missing long enough for anybody to get excited about it. He's only been there a few hours. I'm playing a hunch, Shorty. You want me to read the rest of the names on the list, Nick? Wait a minute, Patsy. Do you have a school teacher on the list? Yes, how did you know? Never mind. What did it look like? Well, let me see. Ivan Johnson, number two, St. Ann's Drive, Occupation Professor of Ancient History. Good. The last scene was wearing dark blue overcoat, grey hat, white shirt, blue tie, and always... Where's Pinsnes glasses? Yes. So did our corpse. The glasses were missing at the time, but the bridge of his nose bore prints of them. Boy, I'm glad I'm going straight. Even at that wake up and talk when Nick Carter gets on the case... Nick, how in the world did you know it would be a school teacher? Well, I didn't for sure. But nose glasses, plus chalk under the nail of the index finger, plus a sensitive face, and the general appearance added up to teacher for me when I looked at the corpse. Next, I figured if he were a school teacher, he'd be expected home by five o'clock. His wife or family would be unduly worried if he hadn't showed up by eight or so and would call the Missing Persons Bureau. But who'd want to murder a poor school teacher? One step at a time, Patsy. And we know this much already. Mr. Johnson intended going to the 54th Street police station when he and his murderer hailed Shorty's cab. Oh, I see, Nick. Then you think that Professor Johnson was killed because of something he intended to tell the authority? Simple the way he tells it, ain't it? One, two, three. Yes, you're very clever, Mr. Carter. But don't you think maybe his wife could tell us what it was he was going to tell the cops? Perhaps he told her first. Yes, Patsy, that's just what I do think. Uh, what was his address? Just a minute. Here it is. Number two, St. Ann's Drive. Right. Okay, Shorty. Take us to number two, St. Ann's Drive. And hurry. Mrs. Johnson, I'm Nick Carter. And this is my assistant, Patsy Bowen. How do you do? How do you do, Mrs. Johnson? Did the police send you, Mr. Carter? Did they find him? Did they find my husband? I'm only here to ask you a few questions concerning your husband. Oh, then they haven't found him. I really can't say. Now, tell me, did your husband mention whom he was going to see after school hours today? Ivan always comes right home after his classes. I thought that he might have had some special appointment today. Oh, no, no. Mrs. Johnson, how was your husband feeling when he left for school this morning? Oh, he was in such a mood this morning. Talked about right and justice until my head fairly whirled. You know, he doesn't like to see people cheated, Mr. Carter. Ivan's a very honest person. What do you mean cheated, Mrs. Johnson? He said he wasn't going to stand by and see the students in his school tricked out of their dimes and quarters. He was going to see right and justice done. The kids were being cheated. What school is this? Central High School. Ivan is the ancient history professor. He's taught there for 12 years. And where's his office there? Why, he's at the same office all that time. Number 12 on the first floor. I've always been happy about that. It's such a sunny little room. Well, Mrs. Johnson, you've been very helpful. Do you think they'll find him tonight? Do you think something terrible has happened? Why, the police will keep you informed. Good night. Good night, Mrs. Johnson. Try to get some sleep. Thank you, but I couldn't. Not till Ivan's home safe. But Nick, I thought you were going to the school where Professor Johnson taught. That's not over here in the West Side Business District. I'm glad to see you on your toes, Patsy, and working in all four cylinders. Nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel and all that. I'm proud of you. All right, all right. But what are we doing over here? In just a moment, you'll see for yourself. This is the place, Nick. Right, sweetie. All right, come on, Patsy. Want me to go with you, Nick? No, you stay here and keep your eyes open. Okay, and good luck. Come on, Patsy. We still got a lot to do if we want to keep shorty out of Lieutenant Riley's foul clutches. I'm glad they didn't lock the front door in this office building tonight. Hey, that's funny. There's no night watchman here. It usually is. Well, Patsy, never look a gift horse in the teeth. No watchman, no trouble. It's spooky in here. There's one little light in this whole foyer. Wish we'd brought shorty in with us. He'll do us more good, keeping watch outside. You really think this is where Ivan Johnson was this afternoon? We know shorty picked him up in front of this building. And this is the only office building in this block, all the rest are warehouses. It's pretty deserted if you ask me. Mm-hmm. And the elevators, of course, have stopped for the night. And this is a ten-story building. Well, Nick, maybe if we look at the directory board, we'll be able to figure out what office Professor Johnson might have visited. Well, that's what I'm hoping. Ah, let's see. Ah, there doesn't seem to be a name on this directory that helps us out at all. There isn't, is there? Oh, Nick, what'll we do? It doesn't take much brain work to figure that one. Maybe we can tell if we have a look at the doors of the offices in this building. So, we'll just have to go from office to office. Ah, come on. Let's start climbing. Oh, there's nobody on this floor. All doctors and dentist offices. Don't think Johnson's business was with any of them today. Come on, up we go. Is there anything on this floor, Nick? No, nobody or nothing to enter as a school teacher. Nick, I don't think I can make another floor. You've got to, Betsy. We must cover every floor. Well, this is the top. Yeah, and we don't know any more than we did before. Nick, this place is as empty as the number two ration book. We might as well... What is it? Thought I heard something. Someone in that office? Yeah, and yet the lights are out. The name of the door says Gerald Ramsey, promotion counselor. Let's pay him a visit. Stay behind me now, to the left of my flash. All right. And who is flashing that pretty light in my office at this time of night? Mr. Ramsey. That's my name and yours. Nick Carter. Surely you don't mean that you're Nick Carter, the great detective. That's who he is, Mr. Ramsey. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Ramsey, but my assistants and I were just having a look around this building. Oh, well, too bad the fuse is blown out of my office here. Or you could have a good look. Who are you after? You don't happen to know of any business in this building that might have dealings with a school teacher, do you? A school teacher? Let me see. A school teacher. Well, I know, I never heard of it, but then there's such a lot I never heard of. Uh-oh. Oh, you knocked over that whole stack of packages. Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Ramsey. I dropped my handkerchief and I was leaning over to pick it up. Anything breakable in them? No, no, no, it's quite all right. Oh, thank goodness for that. Yes, just some things a friend of mine left here until he came back. Just leave them there. I'll take care of them. Oh, at least let me pick them up. No, no, no, never mind. Just leave them there. They won't mind staying where they are for a while, I'm sure. Well, all right, if you say so. Yes, I do. So you can just run along and continue your search for whatever it was you were looking for. Good evening. Good evening. Now, Pat, see, if you're okay, we'd better be on our way. Sorry we disturbed your reverie, Mr. Ramsey. Reverie. That's good. Really? He was an odd specimen. You think he knows anything, Nick? If he does, he isn't talking. Come on. Oh, gosh, Nick, all that climbing up and down stairs just for nothing. I'm worn out. Maybe it wasn't all for nothing, Patsy. You mean you found a clue somewhere here? I don't mean anything yet. Oh, but, Nick... I hope you could still walk well enough to get down the ten flights of stairs ahead of us, Patsy. I don't feel quite like carrying you just now. I guess I can make it under my own power. Where to now? Central High School. Times are wasting. And we still haven't uncovered a clue to the murder of the man in Shorty's cab. Gosh, Nick, what do you expect to find in the schoolhouse at this time of night? Clues to Johnson's murder, I hope. It's no use, Nick. The janitor's not here. I'll have one more try. That racket should wake up the ghost of Hamlet. No answer. So? So, Nick Carter's trusty picklock will do the trick. It's black as pitch in there. Stay right beside me. Things to me, I heard that one before tonight. And look, Nick. I barked my shins in the dark in that character's office. And so, if you don't mind, this time I'd like to see where I'm going. Okay, Patsy. I'll use my flash and keep it down low. Shin height. No, that's better. Now, come on. Better hurry or our friend Shorty's going to be sitting in the clink with a murder wrap pinned on him. Okay. And she said his officer's on the first floor, didn't she? Yes, number 12. All bright and sunny. Here we are, Nick. Number 12. I wish it were bright and sunny in here now. This time we'll just dispense for the formalities of announcing ourselves. The door's open, Nick. Yes. So it is. Come on. Snap on the light, Patsy. Switch is right behind you. Okay. Hey. Looks like someone else is giving Mr. Johnson's room a going over. I'm afraid we got here too late. Papers all over the floor, window wide open. What do you suppose they were looking for? Same thing we are, Patsy. Clothes. Except for a different reason. You think it was the murderer? Could be. Well... What are you reading, Nick? There's a poster on the wall here. A dollar buys a destroyer, high school students. Subscribe just one dollar to the high school victory league and help buy a destroyer. That's a second time tonight. I've seen something like that. A dot. Oh, where's my inky? Need any help? No, I've got one right here in my pocket. There. Hey, wait a minute. Why'd you get this? What? The sticker that came out of your pocket with a handkerchief. Well, I don't know, Nick. Why? Why? It's got the same legend stamped on it that that poster has. Victory league. Well, so it has. Did you buy this sticker? No, I buy my destroyers by buying war bonds. Well, think, Patsy. What did you get? It was in your pocket with your handkerchief. Well, I don't know, Nick. I never put anything in this little pocket except my handkerchief. I can swear this sticker... No, Patsy! See anybody? No. Well, nobody here now. Are you okay, Patsy? Well, I guess so. What happened? I just happened to look up in time to see a man poking a gun through the open window. So that's why you pushed me out of the way so fast. Yes, there was no time to be polite. Thanks, Nick. Did you recognize the man at the window? No. Too bad, but he got away. Gee, Nick, you certainly shot that light out fast. Well, if he can't see us, he can't shoot us. A very logical deduction, Mr. Carter. Hey, Patsy, give me that sticker you picked up tonight. Do you think it means something to this case? You bet I do. I just remembered where I've seen one like it. Hooray, Nick! Never mind now. Well, Patsy, this case is beginning to add up. I'm not mistaken. The sticker splits it wide open. Come on, I've got a job for you to do on your own and right now. That means you've got a job that you're going to do on your own. Right. Now, this is the plan. And if it works, we'll nail our murderer red-handed. My dear fellow, you know I'm in here. Did you get the fuse fixed? Yeah, and while I was fixing it, I got something else too. Come on in, you. Hey, snap on the light and see what I picked up, snooping around down the basement of this building. See? Nick Carter. Well, well, well. Mr. Carter, back again. Still looking for the same thing? No, I found what I was looking for. Oh, good. Good. It's very fine. I already lifted his rod, boss. What'll I do with him now? You've had your chance, my dear fellow. Now it's mine. You know, I have a general impression you men don't like me very well. Oh, sure, Mr. Carter. We love you. But we'll love you a lot better when you don't talk no more. But very bluntly, Mr. Carter, but that is the idea. Now, Mr. Ramsey, just what do you think I could say that would harm you? Now, don't let him fool you, boss. When I was hiding in the bushes outside the window back there at the school house, I heard him tell the dame the case was wide open. Shut up, Lefty. So it was you who took those shots at us through the window. Yeah, you ain't gonna do nothing about it. You was pretty smart, though, figuring out it was Mr. Ramsey what rubbed out the school teacher. You are a complete idiot. Stop that fool tongue of yours. Now, what's a dip, boss? He ain't gonna live to tell it. Hmm, true. That's true. Yeah, since you know so much already, we have only one recourse, Mr. Carter. Give me the gun, Lefty. Yeah, he ought, boss. This one's on me. Just a minute, Ramsey. As long as I'm not going to live to tell it, maybe you'll confirm a deduction I made. Sadely, my dear fellow, a condemned man has always granted one last request. Speak up. This high school victory league's a fauna, isn't it? You're playing on the patriotism of school kids to get them to donate their money to build destroyers and planes, but the money never gets any further than your own pocket. Isn't that it? Oh, yes, Mr. Carter, since you put it bluntly that way, I am forced to admit that you're entirely correct. But may I ask, what it was that led you to believe that I was behind the league? Yes. When I was at Professor Johnson's office, I saw a poster on the wall advertising your dirty league. Oh, please, Mr. Carter. I mean just that. Swindling high school students out of their few dollars in the name of a patriotism that you'd ever do the meaning of is about the lowest form of stealing that I know of. Well, just let me take a poke at him, will you? No, no, no. We can afford to be good natured. Mr. Carter hasn't much time left, you know. You go on, Mr. Carter. As I said, I saw the poster on the wall advertising your dirty racket. And then Patsy found one of your stickers in her handkerchief where she'd pick it up off your floor. I recall then seeing that each of the packages she knocked over in here had a sample sticker pasted on it. It was easy enough then to put two and two together required four. It's too bad that your undoubted excellence in mathematics can't save you. And all because one little school teacher suspected his kids were being cheated. Poor Professor Johnson. It is too bad for him that I found him wandering around his building, looking for the offices of the high school victory league. He told me he suspected it was a phony outfit and he was going to see right and justice done. I offered to take him right to the police station and I did. I wasn't with him when he got there. Very funny. Hurry up, boss. We got what to do. Yes. Well, Mr. Carter, this is it. Blastin' banshees, Nick. Don't do this to me again. I tell you, my nerves won't stand it. Oh, it's a matter, Riley. You got your men. A lion on the ground here howling like stuck pigs. Yeah, sure, but what if I hadn't hit him when he aimed at your neck? What if I'd missed? Come, Nick, your plan worked beautifully. The whole thing, getting yourself found by Ramsey's henchmen and my getting Riley up here to hear the confession and everything. Yeah, Patsy, but don't run such a split second chance of life and death again, Nick. My heart won't stand it. Well, that was worth it. Just as he rams, he walks into the trap like a bear looking for honey. Hey, Nick. Oh, Shorty, come on in. Take a look at her hand to work. Gee, so that's the bum who tried to frame me to the hot seat. He'll be getting it himself before long. Thanks to Nick Carter. Riley, I want to tell you something. Of all the criminals I've tracked down, catching Ramsey gave me the most pleasure. A fellow like that trading on the patriotism of school kids is about the lowest rat in the world. Why, bad as the Nazis, a guy like this is worse. You're right, Nick. You said it, Nick. Oh, Riley, you've got all the evidence you need. The package of posters in the next room, the package of stickers here, and the confession. Right, Nick. We can take over from here. Thanks. Okay, Riley. So long. So long, Nick. So long, Patsy. So long, Lieutenant. Well, Patsy, come on. Chin up. Carry on and all that sort of thing. It's not my chin that's worrying me, Nick. It's having to walk down those ten flights of stairs again. That'll be the fourth trip tonight. Why, Patsy, and at your age too. Look, Nick, can't we just sit here on the top step for the next six hours? You think you'd be rested enough then to walk down the ten flights? I think that by then the elevators will be running again. And what a wonderful invention the elevator is. This has been another of the strange adventures of Nick Carter, Master Detective, which are brought to you regularly each week at this same time by W.O.R. Mutual. Now, tell us a little about next week's story, Nick. Well, next week's story includes rather more adventure than actual detecting. But if Nick hadn't been able to make the first few deductions that really started him off on the right track, there would have been no adventure. And there was adventure and plenty of it. I came nearer to meeting my match when I met Dr. Donaldson than at any other time in my career. Dr. Donaldson was a specialist in secret and dangerous poisons, and he tried one of them out on Nick. But in the end, I managed to get the better of him and solve a mystery that had the police completely stopped. We call it the empty coffin because it was an empty coffin that gave us the first clue. And it was two different doctors making out two separate death certificates for the same death that led to that first clue. Well, that's enough for now. Join us next week for the story of the empty coffin. So long. So long, folks. And so long to you, Nick and Patsy. Until next week. In the strange adventure you've just heard, Nick Carter was impersonated by Lawn Clark, Patsy by Helen Chote. The story was written for Nick Carter by Barth Connery. Original music was played by Lou White. The entire production was under the direction of Jack McGregor. Next week at this same time, listen to another curious experience of Nick Carter entitled... The Empty Coffin. Or Nick Carter and the Mystery of the Doctor's Poison. This story is a copyrighted feature of Street and Smith Publications Incorporated. The return of Nick Carter is produced in the studios of W.O.R. and is broadcast over most of these stations every Saturday evening at 7 o'clock Eastern wartime. And don't forget that the adventures of Nick's adopted son, Chick Carter, are broadcast over most of these stations Mondays through Fridays at 5.30 p.m. Eastern wartime. This is Mutual.