 From Hollywood, it's time now for Edmund O'Brien as... Johnny Dollar. We're ready on your call to Boston. Go ahead, please. Hello. Yes? Mr. Samplin, this is Johnny Dollar. Johnny Dollar? I don't believe I remember you, Mr. Dollar. Well, we've never met. Your company hired me here in Hartford to investigate the Joan Sebastian death. Oh, saw that they didn't advise me. Well, they probably will. I called you to find out the name of the officer in charge of the case, if I could. It's Lieutenant De Rosa. De Rosa. Do you happen to know what their theory is, if any? Theory? I don't think I've arrived at a definite theory. Still a toss up between murder and suicide, eh? Okay, Mr. Samplin. I'll be in touch. Edmund O'Brien in a transcribed adventure of a man with the action-pact expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by a special investigator, Johnny Dollar, to Home Office, currently in life insurance company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Joan Sebastian matter. Expense account item 1, 175, phone call to Boston, advising your manager there of my assignment. Item 2, $28 car rental and mileage from my Hartford apartment to police headquarters, Boston. Judge Trusses? Well, it's not up to me to mistrust you, Lieutenant. These insurance people get uneasy when there's a choice between suicide and murder. Unless the murder motive is the policy. And you don't think there's a chance of that? I wouldn't say definitely not, but the Sebastian girl made a mother her beneficiary, and her mother's an invalid and a rest home. Did, uh, did you know the mother has taken up with an old flame? No, I didn't. Oh, yeah. It goes to see her a couple of three times a week. Crazier things have happened. I'll, uh, get the file for you. Sit down. This is all we've got so far, pending the coroner's inquest and the autopsy report. Here's a photo of where she was found. Ah, shallow water. That's the bridge? Uh-huh. She was lying right about there. But I don't think you have to worry about suicide, doll. As far as I'm concerned, it wasn't. I'll buy that, too. I wouldn't say this bridge is a suicide type. It's too low. Yeah, yeah. And there's another thing. I've been on the force for more years than I like to count, and I've run into my share of suicides. But I've never known a woman to do it that way without taking off her coat. Oh? Yeah, usually shoes, too. I've learned that's part of a generally accepted pattern. The Sebastian girl didn't fit the pattern, huh? Yeah, here's, uh, here's the way she looked. Coat on, belt still tied, shoes. Her purse is still missing. We're searching the streamport. How old was she? 21. She was a beautiful girl. Yeah, I noticed that. I try not to, but with her, I couldn't help it. How much questioning have you done, Lieutenant? Oh, not as much as we'll do after the inquests. When will that be? Day after tomorrow. Do you want anything more here? No, thanks. I'll, uh, I'll give you the background we have on her. It's in my office. I won't party anymore, Lieutenant Rosa. Besides, I like to dig up backgrounds myself. I know them better if I do. Thanks a lot for your cooperation. I drove out to the stream where they found the girl's body, and they had chalked up another point against her death being a suicide. The bridge from which he had dropped was a good four miles from town. On the assumption that she'd been brought there in a car, the placement of a body in regard to the two lanes on the bridge made it look as if the car was going toward Boston, not away from it. Five minutes later, I was heading the same way. The manager suggested I come up. He told me you shared this apartment with Joan Sebastian. That's right. Who are you? My name is Darla. I'm from her insurance company. I'd like to talk to you about her if I could. Well, I suppose so, but there's nothing I can do now. This is the biggest shock I've ever had. Now, he said there'd be trouble, but I never thought she'd do anything like this. Maybe she didn't. What's that supposed to mean? Well, there are signs that say maybe she didn't commit suicide. There are? Do you think she had any reason to? Well, that's what I said. I never thought she would. Sit down. Any place. Thanks. Poor little Joan. What does it mean? I'm not sure. Did you say you expected trouble? Oh, yeah. I kept telling her. It was the way she went, like she couldn't live fast enough. Like there wasn't time to get everything done. She'd been like that ever since she got rid... I mean, her mother went into that hospital. Joni was all tied down, taking care of her before. What could have caused the trouble? Well, I'm not saying she was wrong or anything, but... Well, there were too many men. I imagine that was easy for her. Sure was. Too easy. You mind telling me who they were? Well, I don't know. Only about one. Harold Corrie. He's gone with it the longest. Harold Corrie? Yes, he drives for the North American Van Lines. And sometimes he goes way out to the West Coast, and... Well, while he was gone, Joni didn't stay home and catch up on a reading, if you know what I mean. I think I do. She went out with a different guy almost every night. I didn't pry, but she never told me who they were. You think somebody killed it, don't you? Would you help me try to find out? What could I do? You didn't want to pry, but I get paid to. I'd like to look at her things. Well, I suppose it's my duty sort of, isn't it? In a way, yeah. But I can't force you to. Oh, I know it's a thing to do. Some of the drawers are locked, but I'll show you what I can. I started on the lock dresser drawers. They gave up an open after a brief struggle, but contained on the hold things that might normally be locked up because of their value. Imported perfumes, expensive laundry, and some jewelry. The only thing that looked as if it might have been hidden for the sake of secrecy was under the jewel box. It was a gold key, a functional house type key, but with meaning added because the head of the key was heart shaped. It hung from a fine gold chain. Well, I never saw that before. Never saw the perfume before either, but I smelled it. That's a few hundred dollars worth of scent. And the rest of it was, uh, was Joan used to such expensive things? Well, not that I know about. Harold Corey, you sure couldn't shell out that kind of money. Heart shaped key. That's cozy. I'd like to keep it if I could. Well, I don't know about that. After all, it isn't mine. I might get into trouble. You won't, I promise you. I'm working with the police on this thing. I want to find out where it was made, if I can, and who ordered it. Oh, I get it. Sure, I wouldn't stop you from doing that, even if I could. I wonder if I can get some information about a driver of yours, Harold Corey. I phoned his home and couldn't get him. Is he out of town? Just off here. Oh, when's he due back? Thanks very much. Expensive on item three, seven dollars, drinks and dinner, after I checked into the Bristol Hotel. Item four, a nickel, phone call to Joan Sebastian's employer. Edward Hollis was at home and would see me. Mays will be comfortable. It's nice of you to see me, Mr. Hollis. I thought it'd be better to do it this way, rather than bother you at work. Of course, and I appreciate it. The atmosphere at the office has been gloomy enough. Oh, this is Mrs. Hollis, Mr. Duller. Oh, how do you do? Quite well, thank you. I didn't know the poor girl, but it's a dreadful thing. Yes, I'm afraid it is. They don't understand. Young girl like that with everything you live for? Well, it may be even worse than that. The worst? How could be worse? It looks more and more like her death was not a suicide. Mr. Duller, I didn't mention it on the phone. The police think it was murder, though, and so do I. I thought it'd be better to save the blow until I get out here. You know, murder's pretty messy. This is a shock. I suppose I could be dragged into a courtroom along with everybody else who'll know her. Yes, sir. Beatrice, sir, you run along upstairs. There's no reason for you going through this. All right, I think I'd rather. Good night, Mr. Duller. Good night. I'm sorry, but it couldn't be helped. Of course it couldn't. I understand. I'll make this as fast as possible, Mr. Hollis. I don't know how much you knew about Joan Sebastian's private life. I knew nothing. I have a number of girls in the office and it's been my philosophy to remember that not too long ago, I was as young as they are. As long as they do their work well, I ask no questions. As a matter of fact, I have no right to. Sure. From what I've gathered, she was mixed up emotionally. She hadn't had much freedom because of an invalid mother she took care of. Oh, I did know that. When the mother went to a hospital, Joan began to make up for lost time. She led her friends to believe that she ran around with a lot of men. But I don't believe that. Oh. I think it was one man. Would you give me the names of the girls she worked with? I'd like to talk to them and find out if something may have come out over lunch or cocktail. Yes, sir. I'd rather my staff wasn't upset too much, but I'll tell you, if you'll want to question them separately. That's right. And I could give you the names now, but if you'll phone me at the office in the morning, I'll give you their addresses and phone numbers. That would help. Good. You can call any time after 9.30. I called the next morning and got a list of six feminine names, which I pocketed for later reference. And at 10.30, I was at the home of Harold Corey, the ground floor apartment on Hemingway Street. Yeah, who is it? My name is Dollar. Come later, Woody. I don't want to talk to anybody right now. I'm an insurance investigator. I want to talk to you about Joan Sebastian. Who have you talked to? Why did she do it? She didn't. Well, you mean it's a mistake? In a way, yeah. It's murder. Murder? You're crazy. Am I? No, maybe I. She never killed herself, would she? She had no reason to. When did you see her last? The night before I left for Philadelphia. When was that? The nights ago, Tuesday. I left at five Wednesday morning. She was found Wednesday morning. What are you driving at, mister? When did you learn that she was seeing somebody else when you were out of town? Did no, she wasn't. Look, Corey, I'm not tossing suspicions around to see how they bounce off you. You're on a bad way. Do you know that? You're telling me you think I killed it? Me? I loved it. I wanted a marriage. That's a motive, not an alibi. Get out of here, will you? Leave me alone. You aren't helping yourself with this act. You're making it worse. Get out of here before I do have a murder to answer for. Get out! Get out! Get out! This is Dala, Lieutenant. Hey, I've been kicking myself for not getting your hotel yesterday. Well, I didn't have one then, but I got a few things to pass along the hour. Well, if it's the Sebastian thing, save them. What do you mean? It's suicide after all. How come? Out of sea report. There was concussion from that drop from the bridge, but that wasn't the cause of death. Now, wait a minute. The cause of death was from carbon monoxide. It looks like she pulled the suicide where it would embarrass somebody, and they tossed her in the creek to get her out of the way. Hello. You still there, Dala? Yeah, I'm still here. This is where I came in. We'll return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dala, in just a moment. But first, one of Radio's greatest stars has returned to CBS The Star's address. He's Frank Sinatra. Frank will be here every Sunday afternoon for a full hour of songs, comedy, and commentary on popular music. The Frank Sinatra show is a part of CBS's new lineup of entertainment on Sunday afternoons. Join CBS every Sunday afternoon, won't you? Now, with our star, Edmund O'Brien, we return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dala. Yes, Sergeant, said you were waiting for me. Oh, yeah. Sit down, Dala. You didn't seem to like the latest development. Well, I've been working from other directions. Give it to me again, will you? Well, here's the autopsy report. Death by asphyxia caused by carbon monoxide, agent unknown. Probably automobile engine exhaust. That's the most popular these days. Do you believe this, Lieutenant? I believe what's on the report. And how did you say she got into the river? I said maybe she committed suicide somewhere so that somebody would get involved. Maybe in the driveway of somebody who didn't want to get involved. To get rid of her, she was probably moved to the stream. What's matter? Don't you like that? What else does the report say? Oh, symptoms of severe concussion. I thought you'd be happy with this suicide evidence. The insurance company hired me to dig up facts. If it was suicide, all right. But if it wasn't, they want to know that too. And I don't think it was. Why not? Well, from what I've learned, she wasn't a type. She liked to be alive, and she played it hard enough to leave some motives lying around, jealousy for one. That boyfriend of hers? Ah, you know about him then. Yeah, Corey, isn't it? A truck driver? That's right. And then there's this. Look. What's this unlock? I wish I could tell you. It was given to her by somebody. I'd like to know who. Would you put a couple of men on it, find out where it was made? I could do it, but I think the police can get it done faster. All right, dollar, I'll stick my neck out that far. I'm under orders, you know that. I have to pee a sign before I can invest in it. Yeah, sure. But I'll take your story upstairs and see what the chief says. Let me know what else you find. I will. Say, do you have the address of the old flame you mentioned? The mother's friend? Still like the settle for fraud, would you? Yeah. The death sergeant will give you his address. His name's Paul Anderson. Mr. Anderson. I am. I'm from Joan Sebastian's insurance company. One of you'd spare me a few moments. Oh, yes, I suppose so. Come in. I didn't know she had a policy. She did. $25,000 to go to her mother. I see. Her death has been classed as a suicide, which voids the policy. The two-year self-destruction clause is still in effect. That's a pity. Why'd you say that? It's the least she could do for poor Mildred. That's her mother? Yes. An extremely young mother. Who's almost ruined her life for that girl. I didn't know that. Daughter was born when Mildred was only 17. She was left to care for the child herself. I helped as much as I could. How well did you know the girl after she grew up? Well, I was a friend of her mother's. How'd you ask? Which one did you know first? I don't see what this has to do with the matter. You don't have to answer. I don't want you to misunderstand. There's nothing to be hidden. I suppose it is unusual. I did meet Joan first. But when she took me to her house and I met her mother, I realized that Joan was, well, no more than a cheap little opportunist. The complete opposite from her mother. As I say, I suppose it is unusual. That doesn't make any difference. Point is that you dropped the girl in favor of her mother. Is that it? It wasn't the gross situation you evidently wish it had been. I realized Mildred's condition and the lack of care. I knew she needed someone and I did what I could for her. Did you send her to the rest home? I did. I look here. This has gone far enough. You asked me these questions for one reason, so that you can make your own conclusions, haven't you? I didn't know it showed. It does. Think I sent Mildred to the home to get her out of the way, don't you? That is not the case. I shouldn't think what you like. Go ask Mildred if you care to. I won't bother her. Do you know anything about a gold key that Joan had? A gold key? Now I don't know anything about a gold key. I've known very little about Joan all these past months. I could have told you that she was headed toward a bad end a long time ago. Now she's reached it. There's no one to blame but herself. 4 p.m. then and at 5 I was standing in front of the North American Band Building on Columbus Avenue as Harold Corey backed a big rig into a parking area and headed for a quick order restaurant. Hello, Corey. What this time? This patcher tells me you're going out in another run. Pretty short layover, isn't it? That's right. I asked for it. If they get driving, I'll get my mind off this thing. What do you want? Do you know how she died? I read about it. Carbon monoxide. Do you still think it couldn't have been suicide? She's dead. That's as far as I can think. You knew about Paul Anderson, didn't you? What about Paul? That he might have been more interested in Joan than he was in her mother? I suppose you're just doing a job, aren't you? What you say is true. I didn't know about it. If I had known about it, I would have gone after him, not Joan. I can't take any more, mister. Look, I don't enjoy it either, Corey. Like you say, I'm just doing a job. After questioning the six girls who had worked with Joan Sebastian, I was still nowhere. None of them knew anything about a private life. The next morning, the police located a goldsmith who said he remembered making the key. The police told me you might come in, Mr. Dalla. No trouble at all. We're happy to oblige. Good. You've seen the key? Yes. The officer showed it to me. Oh, friendly young man. I have it with me. You're sure you made it? Oh, yes. Positive. See here? I'll admit to a quaint conceit. You see here? Part of the scroll. See the letters? Well, yes. See here. In my initials, Cedric Fawes, that I have in the cleanest of recollection, who I made it for. I pulled that young off to that, too. I don't even remember when. There's so much work you know. Maybe I can help you. It would have been between seven and eight months ago. You keep any kind of record? Oh, of course I do. I'm bound to. A matter of law. Seven or eight months should have... Ah, let me see. That would be November. October. September. Seven would be March. Eight would be February. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Here we are. Here we are. Frankly, I'm intrigued. How many of my items may have been involved with tragedy? Who knows? Perhaps I'm a curse. I was hoping you'd be a cure for this one. Well, I hope so. You wouldn't know what week or day. Oh, I'm afraid not. February wasn't a very good month, was it? Post-holidays slump. Reset, change rings hide. Set opals. Dreadful stuff. Therefore, oh... Hmm? What? No, no, no, no. That's much too small. Key for a jewel box. Well, let me see. Let me see. Ah, ah, March. It's engraved spoon. Reset. Reset. Repair of place. Here it is. Door key in gold. March 17th. What name? Do not deliver. We'll call J.E. Carter. J.E. Carter. Does that help? No, no, not a bit. Do you remember anything about him? No. Paid in cash. Oh, wait. Now, that was the day Mrs. Brand brought the baby shoe in for placing. She's the counselor's wife. I remember that. It was snowing. That was the day it was ordered, huh? Yes. Now, wait a minute, wait a minute. It was modeled from a plain old cast house key. Uh-huh. I cannot picture him. But I'd done some apartment keys and he said this was for a cottage. Outside of town? It was a surprise for his wife. Some place on the bay. I remember that because of the hideous weather and I could just feel that wind coming through one of those summer cottages. Now, do you think you'd recognize him if you saw him again? Yeah, I can't say until I do. I could try. Well, we may have to call on you then. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I think you've helped. Pussy little man-dollar. We found the day the key was ordered and he remembered a few things because the counselor's wife came in the same day. Why? Well, the customer Carter was the name he used. Mentioned the cottage on the bay. Now, that's east and the girl's body was found northwest of here. I think she was dumped from a car coming toward Boston from out there. So I think the cottage is in that direction. Yeah, deduction, you're... Look, if I were going to dump a body, I wouldn't carry it across two traffic lanes, would you? I'm being paid to think about another case. I couldn't sell the murder pitch upstairs. But I tried and I'll buck for a promotion if you're right and upstairs is wrong. I don't suppose you could earn that promotion by assigning some men to cover that section. Oh, not a chance. That's county. Division of Responsibility. And I, for one, wouldn't be surprised to know how many people have died because of that division of responsibility. Expense account item four, $35 mileage covering a two and a half day search of real estate offices northwest of Boston. Object, a cottage rented a few days before March 17th by a man possibly using the name J.E. Carter. It was morning tonight, legwork, but on the afternoon of the third day, it paid off. I found an agent who had rented a cottage to a J.E. Carter. She took me out, but before we went into the place, I noticed the lean-to garage marked up by plenty of tire tracks. Inside, I found a stained rug, among other things. You said I personally vowed for the people I do business with. You never know, do you? I should say you don't. You want to go now. I think I've seen enough. Let me lock it. I want to see if this key fits. It does fit. Yeah, it sure does. May I come in? Why, yes, yes, of course. Come in. Didn't expect you to come back. Didn't you, Mr. Halles? You thought you'd get away with this, huh? What did you say? Well, now, there's no reason to be clever with each other, Mr. Halles. I know you killed her. You rented a cottage out beyond Mystic River. You used the name J.E. Carter when you bought the gold key. I did that? I'm afraid you did. Come into the other room. Yes, you're right, I did. I became infatuated with her. If you'd known her, you'd understand. I realized last week that it had to stop, and I told her. She had been going with that young quarry boy. I told her that even if I was single and eligible to marry, I would advise her to hang on to him, someone of her own age. That was last Tuesday night? Yes. She left the cottage and I heard her drive off. Or at least I thought I did. When I went out, I... I learned what she had really done. She committed suicide in the car. You can hardly blame me for wanting to keep the secret. No, you've been reading the papers, Mr. Halles' suicide and all that. I've been inside your cottage. You didn't do a very good job of cleaning up the bloodstains. You're right, Mr. Dahlin. There seems to be no longer any reason to attempt cleverness. I'll make my statement to the police. I'll drive you down. Thank you. How did you find out, Dahlin? There was a Wall Street Journal there addressed to you. Oh, I see. Edward. Beatrice, go upstairs. No, Edward, I won't. I insist, Beatrice. What good will it do? Do what I've done because I lost you? Why, should you ask me to go upstairs while I lose you again? I forbid you to say another word. Forbidden. You have no right. I found them, Mr. Dahlin. It took a long time, but I found them. She had taken them from me because she was beautiful. And I no longer am. I was waiting in the cottage until they came in. I struck her. Is this true, Mrs. Halles? I killed her. And since there was nothing left, we carried her to the cup. Beatrice, what have I done? What have I done? Expense account item five, $110, final bill for car rental. Item six, $85, miscellaneous. Expense account total, $356.75. Remarks? I don't know what sticklers the Massachusetts law courts are, but Joan Sebastian was not killed by their own wife. She was unconscious but alive when Halles put her in his car trunk. She died there by carbon monoxide. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Truly, Johnny Dollar stars Edmund O'Brien in the title role and is written by Gil Dowd with music by Wilbur Hatch. Edmund O'Brien may soon be seen in the Paramount Pictures production Warpath. Featured in tonight's cast were Virginia Gregg, Howard McNeer, Virginia Eiler, Wally Mayer, John Stevenson, Bill Johnstone, and Raymond Burr. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar is transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Delvalle. This is DamnCoverly inviting you to join us next week at this time when we will again bring you Edmund O'Brien as yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Stay tuned for Vaughn Monroe's Caravan which follows immediately over most of these same CBS stations. This is CBS for hop along Cassidy rides every Saturday night, the Columbia Broadcasting System.