 Broadway's my beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the godliest, the most violent, the lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadway's my beat, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Broadway, it's a tensiled wilderness of steel and of stone, and the foliage of darkness is thick and unyielding. You make circles and pretend you're not lost. You make circles and walk and try to break through. Then you get the message, it can't be done. Because it's a cage, a big cage. The animal cries you heard were your own. It's Broadway, my beat. At ten o'clock of a bright December morning, Broadway's music shops open their loudspeakers. Broadway wears a scrubbed face, a new haircut and a flashy smile arranged to look appealing and innocent. Because Broadway is on its way to con Santa Claus. Then you get a look at yourself in a mirror decked with holly, and you know you're doing the same thing. So you drop a coin in the pot. Thank you Danny! It feels good inside. And then at 46th Street, you see a patrolman Meshrikov ad-libbing his way through a crowd. But he's got a tight hand on a little guy with gentle and tired blue eyes. Alright Townspeople, alright, the party's over. So make way for me and Santa Claus, huh Townspeople? Me too, patrolman Meshrikov. Oh Danny, I didn't notice you in the round of my appointed duties. And your duties? This little guy here, you see him? I see him, hello. Hello. This little guy, he's crazy Danny. Lost his marbles, like Michugan. You know what I mean? I'm not crazy, I'm only doing what I have to do. You have to do this? You have to give away $10 bills in the middle of Broadway? This is not only a hindrance to the flow of traffic, it smacks also of holes in the head. You tell me about it, mister. I'll tell you Danny, even if it breaks my heart, this sweet little character is a potential client for Bellevue. He tells me he's got 50 grand to give away. Let him tell me how Meshrikov. Would you like a hot cup of coffee, mister? It's pretty cold out here. I'd like it, thank you. Oh, very nice. Let's go. He's a very nice man, that patrolman Meshrikov. He has a kind heart. I tried to give him $10, but he wouldn't take it. Will you take it for him? All right, we'll put it in the policeman's fund. After you, mister. Thank you. Here, I got a couple of nickels. You want coffee or chocolate? Chocolate would be nice. You think I'm crazy too? You look like a man who worked hard for all that money. Why are you giving it away? Here's your chocolate. Oh, thank you. I give it away because it's my duty to share it with those who need it. Those people in the street, maybe they're just greedy. Oh, here's a place. We can stand at this counter. Sugar? Thank you. Some people buy yachts with money. I buy little boats in people's hearts. Maybe they'll still be sailing when I'm no longer here to wave them on their way. Oh, you'll be here a long time, mister. Henry Baker. No. I won't be here for long because I'm going to be murdered. What? My brother George. He'll murder me because he wants my $50,000. And I want to give it away before he kills me. What's your name? Well, Danny Clover. Look, I don't quite... You're a policeman, aren't you? Yes. Then you'll protect me until I give all that money away. You'll do that, won't you, mister Clover? Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. Oh, you're very kind. Kindness is in your face, mister Clover. You've done enough for the day. Why don't you go home and rest? If there's any trouble, call me right away. Just give your name and they'll put you through to me. I may call you at any time? Any time. All right. Now, I'll go home. Thank you for the chocolate, mister Clover. It was very kind. Michael wants to see you. Oh, I'll show him in. Okay, Danny. Yes. What can I do for you? Sit down. Thank you. I just learned you had a little talk with my brother. So? So this? I've come to ask you not to have him put away. You think he should be put away? Well, he's mad. Oh, I won't quibble with you. I just know that. Mr. Baker, I've talked to your brother a long time. I think you can be proud of him. Proud? Hardly that. Making a fortune and giving it to drifters. Well, that's his own affair, I suppose. But it's the other thing. Which is, he's insane delusion that I want to murder him. Yet you don't want him committed to an institution. Why? Well, I'm sorry for him. He means no harm. I try to help him. How? Well, I arrange that he be taken care of by a doctor. Oh. I'm glad you did. What doctor? An expensive one. Dr. Michael Sinclair. Dr. Michael Sinclair. You see. Oh, pardon me. Yeah, surely. Danny Clover speaking. He tried again, Danny. He tried to kill me again. He did, Henry? When was this? Just now. Just this instant. He shot at me, but he didn't get me. I'm glad to hear it, Henry. You'll have to do something, Danny. Promise me you'll do something. I promise. Where are you? 2150 East 20th Street. I'll be right down. Your brother, Mr. Baker. What did he want? You'll have to excuse me. I got to get down there. He says there's been another attempt on his life. Oh, no. Does it, Mac? Shall we try again? If you've got time to play, you've got nothing important to do here. Point yourself north, kid. Yeah. Now we stop rubbing noses, huh? Now we discuss our problem. You think so? I say we play some more. Copper. Huh? Blushed to my shoes when I say it. I'm from the police. Oh, so I can't bang on you. I got to throw my hands back against the wall and drop my jaw and say golly. I got to do that because you're from the police. Do it. It'll make me feel important. Where are you from? From here. Landlord. I had cards printed once that said Bencroft Landlord. They got sticky on a hot day and melded, but I ain't changed. You want a crummy room? I want to see Henry Baker. I got a theory you want to hear. I'll tell you. A cop puts in eight hours a day with a city ordinance and a gun and phony muscle. That gives him 16 hours left to be a grabber. That's why you want to see Baker, grabber. You an off-duty cop. Look, I'm working. I'm between card-punching time. So when I say a question, you say an answer. What's your interest in Henry Baker? I like him. Answer. Like why? Because sometimes I talk to him, then I can stand to look in the mirror. Answer. Try this. Why didn't you want to let me in? Because people come here, try to get the little guy's dough from him because he's got a crazy idea someone's going to walk in and kill him. Maybe he isn't kidding. Let's go. In here. He did it again. He started killing me. Who? Who was it? George, my brother. I saw him. He shot at me from in the alley. He went through the window, but there's no one out here now. He was waiting for me there outside in the alley. Then he took a shot at me. I see. You're sure it was your brother. I know my brother, don't I? Sure you do. What's this, sticking out from under the bed? You mean my suitcase? No. Yeah. Yeah, your suitcase. Open it, Mr. Clover. Sure. Holy... Almost $50,000, Mr. Clover. Have a $10 bill. Go ahead. Take some. You're my friend. I want to have some. I didn't tell Henry Baker that what I'd seen sticking out from under his bed was a gun that had just been fired. I didn't tell him that the window glass had fallen into the alley outside. And I didn't tell him that all that meant he had fired the shot himself from inside his room and through the window. He didn't even know his brother couldn't possibly have been there. I couldn't let him know I saw through his child's game of attempted murder. But I could take the gun away with me. And I could call on his doctor. Because a doctor is where you go when someone important to you is sick. Yes? What is it? I'd like to see Dr. Sinclair. Is he in? I'm Dr. Sinclair. Won't you come in? Dr. Michael Sinclair was the least medical-looking girl I ever saw. She wore a dress of some metallic cloth that shimmered in the afternoon light. And in her eyes was a kind of grave mocking smile. And her mouth... her mouth... The way you look at me, I wouldn't diagnose as neurotic. Not in the least. I'm sorry. It's only that... That what? I don't know. You're the doctor. It's that I'm a woman doctor, and women doctors are rare, wasn't that it? Rare? Yeah, that's it. And women have the vote and give their seats to nice old gentlemen in subways, get their PhDs in psychology at Hunter College in the Bronx. You feel better now? I'm a policeman doctor, Danny Clover. I want to talk to you about a patient of yours, Henry Baker. What about him? He tells me his brother is trying to kill him. Yes, that's what he told me. When did he first come to you? A few weeks ago, his brother sent him to me. What's your interest in Mr. Baker? Has he committed a crime? No, it's only that he's a friend. I want to help, if I can. Yes, he does have a lot of money, doesn't he, Mr. Clover? And he gives it away. It's good you're a woman. Don't be angry. I find greed universal. I have it myself. I just diagnosed you incorrectly, that's all. Or did I? Do you keep records of everything Baker tells you? Of everything everyone tells me. I record it on tape. New world, new methods. I find it more revealing and more accurate than taking notes. May I hear Baker's recording? Mr. Clover, what he says to me is in the nature of a confessional. I see no need to trespass on Mr. Baker's privacy. That's a law, isn't it? Is it? I'd like to hear the recording, please. I guess there's no harm done. I'll get it since you're a friend. Here it is. You'll find, Mr. Clover, that Henry's case is the usual one of sibling rivalry. More intense, perhaps. More outward going. More bizarre. How do you play this thing? Like this. What should he keep imagining his brother's trying to kill him? That's my problem, Mr. Clover, and I... Shh, that's me. Everything, just as it comes to you. It began when I sold my truck farm and took all the money and savings and started to give it away. I said to him, George, why do you want to kill me? You want my money. That's why you want to kill me. It's all like that, Mr. Clover. A recurring aberration. You think it's only that, eh? There couldn't be any truth in it. I strongly doubt it. How often do you treat him? Every day. As a matter of fact, he should have been here an hour ago. What? I called his rooming house. He wasn't there. I called his brother, not there. Do you have any idea where he might be? Yeah. Yeah, doctor, I do. This morning, I remember your face. Oh, here you are, sir. Will you help? Henry, Henry, come here. Oh, hello, Mr. Clover. Oh, you're angry at me for giving away money again, aren't you? No, no, I'm not angry, Henry. Shall we have another cup of chocolate? Oh, that would be nice. All right, Henry. Oh, but I can't. I just remembered. I have an appointment with Dr. Sinclair. Would you like to come along? All right, Henry. Oh, she's very pretty. Oh, Mr. Clover. What's the matter? Mr. Clover? His body slumped to the pavement, and his face stared up at me. It was a face from which everything had fled, terror, the waiting, the protest against pain, the slender knife between his ribs, the blood that nudged from the corner of his lips was the shape of his dying. Suddenly, the crowd was aware that death had touched them. The confusion welled out from near the dead man. Eddie then broke itself into the fragments of people shopping for a happy Christmas. And with them, inside the sudden spasms of shock and motion and lost was a person who had just killed a friend of mine. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Did you know it was Buster Keaton playing Sing It Again's Phantom Voice these last few weeks? Well, now there's a new Phantom riding the airwaves on Sing It Again. For identifying him tonight, some CBS listener can win $50,000 in cash prizes, Radio's largest jackpot. Phone calls go out from coast to coast. Be ready when Sing It Again comes your way over most of these same CBS stations later tonight. You've got to listen close on Broadway. That's the only way you can tell if the sudden sound you just heard was laughter or anguish. Not that it makes a lot of difference. Broadway reacts to clowns and dead men in pretty nearly the same way. And the dead man you saw lying in the blood of his death on a holiday pavement you tell your family about. How the policeman pushed you back but you saw anyhow. But you didn't tell how somebody came and swirled him up over the sidewalk because somehow you knew that was his final recognition, the requiem for a man who had just died. But I saw it. I had a state of the end. Until Henry Baker was shrouded and carried away, until Henry Baker was made a matter of official concern that I left, I had to go to a place. It's you and the police, fella. Yeah, Croft. Me. Then come on in out of the snow and cold and the dismal elements. See, I'm doing the right thing by it. Stick around, I got a bowing and scraping act that'll tug your heart string to pieces. Henry Baker is dead. Did you hear what I said, Croft? I heard only sad once more. Baker, dead. See, it don't pay, it don't pay at all. Good little guy with a good idea, being nice, the world couldn't stomach him. He breaks you up, huh? Yeah, I don't show it good, do I, because I don't know the words how to talk about it. To a high school graduate like you, I ain't being crushed enough. How did he die? The world slipped a knife in his back, a real one. I don't want to repeat myself this time, Croft. Who would want to kill him? I don't know you for a lifetime, Croft. So I'd say you might. Yeah, you'd have to say that. That's so you can smile when you draw your pay. You're being a keen police fella. Yeah, this keen. How come you got a hat and muffler on? The temperature's fine in here. I've been out. Smell my breath, you'll see. Around Broadway in 46? Uh-uh, nowhere near there. Stick around, Croft. I'm going down to Baker's room. A matter of $50,000 in a suitcase. Where's the light switch? No. Better? Under the bed? No suitcase. Maybe he found another hiding place. Not in the closet. Maybe in the bureau. Hey, who turned out the light? Somewhere I heard it. Can't hold of it and wouldn't let it go. Christmas bells banging an offbeat rhythm to a dream I never had before. I was in the middle of a room, which was in the middle of a room and far away, far, far away was a little man with a blood red $10 bill tucked in his coat lapel. Then he did a clever thing. He did a back flip. When he stood up, it wasn't him at all. Her name was... I didn't make any difference. She was dressed in metallic cloth in her mouth. Her mouth said, I'd better get up. So I did. I looked for Ben Croft and he wasn't there. So the thing for me to do was to get back to the office. So I did. Michael Sinclair to see you, Danny. Huh? Well, show her in to Tiger. Okay. You can go in. Surprise to see me, Mr. Clover. Should I be? Yes. I'm a very busy doctor and I know you're a busy, busy man, so I'll come right to the point. I want Henry Baker's money. All that was left of it. Oh, you're his widow? Henry never told me. Neither did you. Nothing quite so cheap as that, Mr. Clover. Henry promised me his money. Every visit to my office, he promised me. He said that when he died, he wanted me to have whatever money was left because I was good and kind and helped sick people. Henry said all that on a tape recording? No. No, that was our own secret. When a man says things like that to a girl, a girl doctor, Mr. Clover, she wouldn't record it as if it were a symptom of a wandering mind. Now would she? I wouldn't know. No one want to keep you from your appointed rounds, doctor. So many people must be crying out for you. You're saying I don't get the money? I'm saying we haven't got it. I'm saying a girl with a bright, shining mind like yours can make her own way in the world without robbing the dead. I'm saying... Quite enough. And all of it insulting. Ain't it the truth? Thank you, doctor. Happy neurosis, doctor. I was glad when she went. Anyhow, she ruined the decor of my office. I made a note to splatter the place with wax roses then have her in again, which constituted the mixed-up daydream for the day. Right now, there was a man I had to see, George Baker, loving brother and soul-living heir of a murdered man. I wondered how he reacted to the news. At his home, I found out... I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Clover. You don't understand about policemen, do you, Mr. Baker? When they intrude upon grief, they're intruders. I started to talk about you not understanding policemen. We got a right to make a nuisance of ourselves, Mr. Baker. The public demands it. What do you want to know? You thought your brother was mad, didn't you? I told you that. Of course, Henry was mad. He gave away money. Money? What money? Money that was in a suitcase under his bed. Do you have the suitcase? Me? You have it. Uh-uh. I don't have it. Find it. It's mine. I'm his only living relative. Take it easy. Take what easy? I want that money. It's mine. See what I mean, Mr. Baker? What? See what I mean? You want that money so badly maybe you'd kill for it. Get out of here! You can't say that to the law without nudging me with your elbow and smiling. You know that, Mr. Baker. I'll post a suitable reward. Does that interest you, Mr. Clover? A reward? Wait a minute. I know men like you, Mr. Clover. You're greedy. You're holding out for a price. So I'll give it to you. I'll give you 20%. Baker, 25%. Don't hit me, big girl. No, no, no. Don't hit me. No, I wouldn't do that. I'll just throw you away. Dog, pig, filth! Stroll, Meshikov, picked up craft. They're in your office. Hey, Danny, Danny, what's the matter? Oh, Danny, I picked up craft here at the Eagle Tavern. He was spending money like a drunken sailor. Yeah, get out of here, Meshikov. Okay, Danny. You ran away, craft. Tell me, bitter, bitter men like you, you always run away? Sometimes. Things leave a bad taste in your mouth. Sometimes like you, you do that to me. Now you know. You slugged me. Beat me up. That makes you feel good, huh? It would have, but I didn't have the pleasure. Maybe I can arrange it sometime. Just you and me. A pleasure. First, tell me about the dough. The dough that flowed like wine. It was give to me. Give to me by a little guy who had a healthier brain than all of us. That includes you and me. Baker gave you the money? How much? A hundred bucks. Ten crispy saw bucks. That makes a hundred bucks. That made you a big man on 2nd Avenue. Now you haven't got it right, Mr. Clover. Baker gave me the dough. He made me promise to toast his way to heaven when he died. This I was doing when your bull walked in and snuck it up. You could have followed Baker up to Broadway. You could have stood in the crowd and slipped a knife into him. And you could have taken his dough and hidden it. You want to know something, Clover? I'll bear my soul to you. None of that what you said could I do. It's a weakness with me how I'm in love with good people. Yeah. Yeah. Baker sometime had collars in his room. Yeah? The collars. Who were they? You. Me. His brother. His brother. His doctor. His what? His doctor. A perfume doctor with the body of a girl and the legs of a girl. Like how often? Like practically every day it was a thing a man could look forward to her with a little black case and a smile and say, Hey, policeman, where you going? I ain't finished with my confession. Oh, Mr. Clover, what an exciting surprise. For both of us, doctor. Professional visit or social. Perhaps we could combine them, you and I. But not out here. Inside, doctor. You wouldn't mind if the place is a mess. Not at all. You know, doctor, I've a problem. I miss my old friend. That's my laboratory. I allow no one in here. But doctor, how can I get well if you keep secrets from me? Yeah, what are all these little cardboard boxes? The recordings of my patients. Hmm. Here's Henry Baker's. Mind if I listen to it on the recorder here? Maybe Henry said something on this tape I didn't hear before. You heard all that was important. Not everything, doctor. Like how it was you who visited him and not vice versa like you told me. Practicing psychologists do that now. They visit the patient. I lied, didn't I? Uh-huh. Oh, closet full of test tubes and bottles. Very medical for an unmedical doctor. Are you always nosy like this? Calling an occupational disease. What do you think happened to Henry's money? As a psychologist, your guess might be better than a cop's. Don't go in there. Hmm. Pretty bedroom. Planning a trip, doctor? No. That's good. Because this suitcase, it's kind of shabby for a career girl like you. Leave it alone, Mr. Clover. What are the initials? H-B. What are they stand for, doctor? Michael Sinclair and Code? I have bad habits, doctor. I open other people's mail and suitcases marked with the initials of Henry Baker. All these $10 bills. They could have made Henry so many friends. He gave it to me. He gave it to me because I cured his fixation. They cure it with murder now? Let's go, doctor. Grab a hand or something and let's go. That must be a patient, Mr. Clover. May I answer it? Yeah. I'll wait in your laboratory. Tell your patient you're busy. And doctor? Yes. Remember nothing fancy. Just tell him to go away. I'm sorry, but you can't... Don't be sorry about anything. Just give me a minute. You can't come in here. Can't I? Can't I, now? See, I'm in all right. Now, give me my brother's money. I don't have it. Give it to me. Give it to me or I'll beat you up just as I did that policeman. He wanted that money for himself, like you do. Give it to me. It's in there. In that room, my laboratory. Good, good. Very good. I sold my truck farm and took all the money and saved it and started to give it away. I said to him, George, why do you want to kill me? It's Henry. He's alive. But I killed him. I killed him. I'll kill him again. I'll kill him over and over again. I'll kill him. Baker, Baker! I'll kill you, Henry. I'll kill you, Henry. It makes me feel good to give it away to people. I'll kill you, Baker. I'll kill you. I need friends. That way, when you leave this world, you'll be remembered. What more could be a man asked? You should see their faces when I give it to them. Don't look like that, Danny. Happy. You had to kill him. There was nothing else you could do. That's important. Yeah. It's just... Okay, Doctor. Get your hat. And so it was over, done. A little man had given away pieces of his heart in kindness until it was shattered finally by violence. And his murderer, his brother, two bullets had fixed the mask of greed on his face. Michael Sinclair? She had the money all the time. She cried when we took it away from her. But it didn't do her any good. Not a bit of good. Broadway's sleeping now. And the furious avenue of the night is still. It stretches out in front of you without beginning, without end. Only the sleepwalkers are there. The handful who's lust for a dream or reality is never through. The seekers, the sorting, the huggers close of nothing. It's Broadway. The gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadway, My Beat. Ways, My Beat stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover and is written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin. The musical score was composed by Alexander Courage and conducted by Wilbur Hatch, and the program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. The cast tonight included Charles Calvert, Jerry Hausner, Ralph Sedan, Byron Kane, Lou Merrill and Joan Banks. A week to go and Christmas and its problems of shopping and presents grow serious in the minds of most of us. For the lighter approach to Christmas, may we suggest you spend Sunday evening with Jack Benny, Amos and Andy, Red Skelton, Charlie McCarthy and Bergen, with Eve Arden and all the other famous CBS Sunday Night entertainers. Now stay tuned for Sing It Again, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. Joe Walter speaking, this is CBS where you find Ways, My Beat every Saturday night, the Columbia Broadcasting System.