 The American Broadcasting Company presents Pat Novak for hire. I'm Pat Novak for hire. I got a couple of votes down on Pier 19 on the San Francisco waterfront. Sometimes I read them out, though I found out it's easy to keep my budget healthy by risking my health in other ways. So I work around doing odd jobs. You can take that anywhere you like. Not the best you can say for it is that it beats begging, at least you don't always limp. If you're lucky and you can keep a half lap ahead of the bill collectors if you don't let it go to your head. I did once. I helped a guy who owned seven hotels convince a blonde in San Rafael that her memory wasn't that good after all. The payoff was too rich for my blood. I got the idea that with that kind of money I could take over the gambling joints up around Lake Tahoe. I took them three days to show me I was wrong. I'd worked my way down from the gold-plated joints to a place called the Broken Tea where they still recognized a dollar as currency. I was beginning to figure how long it'd take me to walk back to the bay when the health came along. He was a little guy with a pair of eyes I wouldn't trust with anything I wanted again. The kind of quiet dark clothes that would make it easy to get lost in an alley. He knew me. Well Novak, you're not doing so hard are you? I eat. You want to make a quick buck? There must be a reason. Tell me that first. I'm hot. I shook the wheels down for a flock of dough. You call that trouble? Not yet, but I like to look ahead. How do I know these guys like it that I got all their money? If it hurts you give it back they'll take it. I got a better idea. I want to take it down to San Francisco. Look, Crocker owns the Southern Pacific. They got an urge to travel talk to him. They got a proposition spread it out. I'm driving down that's a lonely road. I want you to go along as a bodyguard. If these guys are out to hijack your road, two of us won't stop them anymore and one. They come in bunches when they want to. Do you want the job or you're gonna talk me out of it? I'll buy it down with you. For 200 bucks. You charge a lot for a ride. You said it's risky remember? Okay, it's 50. You get the rest in San Francisco. I see outside in five minutes. My name's Brown. I'll be waiting in my car. Brown, huh? Yeah, Brown. John Brown. Want to make something of it? How can you? He was a quiet guy. We drove along for a couple of hours and you could have repeated all he said on one deep breath. I kept watching the cars along the road waiting for the muscle boys to show up with nothing happening. Pretty soon I got the feeling that they weren't after him at all. I guess he'd seen too many movies. I finished off a pack of cigarettes as we got down out of the mountains and got him to stop at a roadside joint for reloads. He wouldn't leave the car so I was all alone when a girl came up to me at the bar. Are you going down to San Francisco? Something like that. You got room for me. How far are you going? You got to pin me for who I'm with. You might be handy at that. Cars without a heater. I don't have the onus. So you'll keep one hand on the wheels. Or ask the guy who does. He's sitting out in the car. Why don't he come in? Don't build him up so fast. I get a car too. Where'd you get it? Steal it? You selling medical insurance maybe. Why? You're going to need it if you keep elbowing into my face. Speaking of elbows, what do you mean trying to muscle in on my dame? You two together? Yeah. Why? That's what I've been wondering. Why? So long, sucker. Why do you make it that? I'd say you're up. You don't have to slide. You ought to blame for this. Yeah. And tomorrow I'm going to make it rain. I can start a storm right now. Go right ahead. You've got the wind. Wait. You're cold and nice, stranger. What started that? Bad habits. Yeah? Too many cigarettes. I guess I didn't have to hit the guy. I was all geed up over the ride. I had to take it out on somebody. Outside, the air was cold and clear. A river made soothing noises in the darkness. I figured it'd be an easy night from then on in. But Brown was having the fidgets. Come on, Novak. Let's get going. Where's the dame? What dame? One came out here, a hitchhiker, wanted to ride to town. I didn't see any dame. Come on, let's go. Oh, that's clear. What's clear? Let's go. Let's go. And suddenly you're nervous. What's the matter? Well, I need a doctor, Novak. I know where to find one. Yeah? But can you find one who's shaked, synchronized with yours? Otherwise, he's going to have a tough time with your pulse. From there on into town, John Brown didn't say a word. When we came across the Bay Bridge, he stopped in the terminal and made a phone call. Then we drove up to his place, a big corner apartment house up near the Civic Center. He told me to wait in the car while he went in to put away the money. I sat and smoked cigarettes, and watched the dawn begin to light up the long empty streets. I must have been there half an hour before anything happened. And then it all began to happen at once, starting with Helman, a homicide detective with a grudge against the world that he takes out on me. I hope I didn't keep you waiting, Novak. I got you out of bed, Helman. Can't be insomnia, that takes conscience. You'd be the sort to know about that. Why, if I let the car over? Why not? I didn't steal Lisbon. I prefer Roadster. John Brown, huh? Now there's a name. Where have I heard that before? That's a foreign name. Polish, I think. That's not where I heard it. It was broadcast in connection with a stolen car. Try again. The keys, see? So maybe it was Carlos and left his keys in his car. Yeah, maybe I'm whimsical and changed my name to Brown. Go on, Helman. You can't pin anything on me. No. Give me the keys. What for? I'm looking in the trunk. We got a tip. Not on this crate. We just got in from Tahoe. Nobody knows we're here. Sure, sure. And if you aren't here, I guess there's nothing in the trunk either. How about it? What'd you find? A body. A girl's body. I'm not intruding, am I? Not on me. You better get Brown. He's in the apartment there. Sure. But won't you be lonely? Look, Brown hired me to ride down from Tahoe with him. He cleaned up at the tables and water protection for his role. It's his car and his girl. Let's get him. All right, come on. Oh, Brown listed. Nervous? Upset? Maybe you need a rest. I'm sure somebody else did it. Shame on them. Come on, Nova. The girl was a pick-up, a hitchhiker. Why should he kill her? I got a better question for you. Where can I get a lawyer? I saw a purse with a body. Let's look it over. Don't tell me you didn't rob her, too. The purse didn't turn up much. Some keys, a little mad money, makeup stuff. A letter to Alice Stone with an address out in the Portrero district. The letter was no good, just a guy trying to patch up a split. I had a hunch that Brown must have known Alice. That was the only way the killing made sense. I needed to get some dope on Brown and I needed to know about Alice. Helman took Brown's address off a registration card and I couldn't see whether it had helped me any. No one had seen us together all the way down from Tahoe. Even if Brown were picked up, he could swear he'd never seen me before. But the car listed was stolen. He was a cinch to prove it. Now, I needed help bad. So I started looking for my old friend Jaco Madigan. An ex-doctor turned boozer who had more connections around town than the water department. I ran him down in a trap on Ellis Street trying to hold back the recession and liquor sales. Hello, Patsy, my boy. Join me. This is the first one today. Look, I'm in trouble, Jaco. You're in trouble. Think how I feel. What's the matter, sick? No, just worried. I was reading in the paper here that the good ship Clyde Harris went down off the New England Kotel last night with 10,000 cases of Scotch on board. Yeah, there's some left. Listen, Jaco, I'm in a jam. When did that become news? I was up at Tahoe and a guy hired me to drive him down here. He didn't know you. It turns out the car is stolen. There's a body in it. And the guy's disappeared. I don't blame him. The body belonged to a girl named Alice Stone. At this address. 10,000 cases of Scotch. Can you imagine that? And the way I figure it, the girl must have known the killer. I'm not very sure that John Brown, who named his car was stolen, is innocent either. It's my disgrace that he left the car keys lying around. What'd you want me to do? Get on the grapevine. I know that this John Brown is tied up in the rackets. The same for Alice Stone. I know that they ran around with each other. Whatever you can about them. All right, Patsy, but you'll have to wait. I've got to catch up on my drinking first. Can't you lay off this stuff for a little while? Are you telling me how to live my life again? You, who consort with murderers, car thieves, and women of dubious ways? Push the bottle over here. Look, Jaco. See if you can put the finger on a neat little guy with a pair of con man's eyes. Black hair, toy mustache, and dresses like Dapper Dan. About 150 pounds. I imagine you trying to tell me how to live. You, who've got more bad habits than a dope teen's convention. The guy goes for dark, expensive clothes. He doesn't talk much unless he has to. When I drink, I get the hangover. All you have to do is breathe regularly in troubles all over town. You had any social conscience. You'd go somewhere and hang yourself. I can't understand how I tolerate having you around. Will you get a line on the guy for me? From the way you described him, it ought to be a lay-down cinch. There's only about 10,000 men in town who could fit that description. Will a hundred or so of them be enough? I want one. That's a long gamble. Try. Will you, Jaco? Imagine that with the ocean full of ships hauling guano, bones, cattle, oil, lumber, pineapple, sugar, old newspapers, and gunny sacks, the one boat that has to sink... Will you get on it? Well, there's no hurry. It's only you at stake. So long, lover. I grabbed some breakfast, picked up a cab, and went out to the address of Alice Stone. It matched a wooden house that looked two years older in Utah that was trying to lie about it with a new plaster front and a fresh set of doorknobs. It looked like it had been built by an amateur who read the blueprints upside down. But Dame answered the door. She was about type in the hide. It was six-footer, and she had red hair. It was a heavy, wavy kind. It made you think she must be healthy. And that wasn't hard to do anyway. The way she filled out her morning coat didn't leave much to worry about, except the seams. She could talk, too. The neighborhood's improving. You know Alice Stone? Sure. She lives here. I might have known she'd see you first. Where are you? My name's Gib Harper, and Alice isn't home. What can you do with that? I want to. Maybe I'm a salesman. Well, that's mister. You aren't fooling anybody. You look about as much like a salesman as I do a decoy duck. Now, what do you want with Alice? Oh, you have to be particular. I can't use her. She's dead. A salesman with five o'clock shadow attempt. You say dead. Yeah. I found her in a car downtown this morning. You're a cop. You're wrong. Why should it worry you? What do you mean? You know who did it? I don't know anything. I just don't like jams. Tell me how it happened. They were coming down from Tahoe. She was in a roadside hamburger trap. She asked me for a ride, and I sent her out to talk to a guy who owns the car. The next time I saw her, she was tucked away in the trunk. Why'd a guy kill her? Just like that? That's what I'm after. Maybe he just didn't like James. There's probably a better reason. You think maybe he knew her? Yeah. That's where you can earn a gold star. Did you know anybody by the name of John Brown? Describe him. He was playing the wheel at the broken tee up near Tahoe. Smooth little guy about two sizes over a jockey. Waxed mustaches to pair eyes with used to freeze fish. Wow. That one. All right. I know him. Give me an introduction. His name's Brown, all right. I didn't know his first name before. He's a small-time hustler around town. He used to take Alice out now and then when he felt like tearing up a nightclub. Cops arrested him yet? Hellman, a homicide dick, is knocking on his door about now. I don't expect him to be home. No, he won't stay. He has hideouts. Name some of them. Uh-uh. I'm afraid to. He can't hurt you. He's too busy playing cops and robbers. You don't know Brown. I gotta get to know him. Give. I don't want to get mixed up in anything. Neither do I, but I am. I need Brown. Why don't you forget Brown? I'd be bad manners. What's wrong with bad manners? I know some that are fun. Yeah, you would. More fun than Brown will ever show you. You'll keep. He won't. Tell me, will this keep your thing? You have a nice way of changing the subject. But still, where's Brown's hideout? I won't tell you. He'll kill me. Yeah, that's a gamble. I'm on the spot. And that's a fact. Talk to me. Well, I hate men. Never mind your hobby. Give me Brown. I hate you, you big ugly muscle-bound. Brown. You're hurting me. Make me stop. Tell me where Brown is. All right. He has a hideout, a little shack out into the beach. No, it's not a down. Let go. I'm telling you. Well, I hope it's the last thing you hear. From Skip's place out to the beach wasn't much of a drive. I went up and over at Twin Peaks watching the city and the bay spread out beneath the road like a giant map. The sun was working for the Chamber of Commerce that day and the whole region was glowing. Every backyard was full of clothes blowing in the wind. As the highway near the beach, it began to turn up bunches of kids on their way to cash in on the weather. John Brown's hideaway was one of those old pioneer shacks built out near the ocean in the old days by guys who wanted to get away from it all. It was painted a weather-beaten brown tilted a little on one side and it looked like something that had been washed ashore in a bad storm a long while ago. I knocked on the door, but all that bought me was echoes. So I made a door out of one of the side windows. The inside of the place looked like something out of a hobo jungle. None of the furniture matched. The best piece in sight would have made a junkman sneer. There was a broken down set up for poker and a tired double bed and after that you were practically on your own. The kitchen didn't turn up anything but a flock of ants and some empty bottles. I began to get the feeling Brown must have had too high doubts or else he'd left town. It shows you how wrong you can be. All right, hustler, reach. You walk soft. Practice makes perfect. Turn around slowly. How come you're working without a gun? Who are you? This is my place, so you tell me. My name's Novak. I'm looking for a guy named Brown. You're all right so far. I'm Brown. Who tipped you off I'd be here? I don't remember. No, you don't remember. So let me guess. It was that punk Venanti. Never heard of him. Never mind the Rube routine. You got a hustler written all over you. What did Venanti send you here for? You think I know too much? I was sent to Rube. Do you think I'd come without a gun? Start using your head. I like the way it's working. Tell me more. I can't tell you anything. You don't fit my blue friends. Don't get smart with me, hustler. Venanti sent you. Tell me what for? If you're Brown, you don't need any new worries. You got an arm full already. I'm feeling no pain. The cops have your car down at the station. What for? They don't like them with dead bodies inside. Steady now. Let's have that again. A dame named Alice Stone was found stuffed in your trunk. You're hotter than four stoves. Laugh yourself out of that. If you know so much, why aren't you yelling copper? Don't worry. They're on their way. I'm trying to get the key to the killing. If this turns out to be a frame... Look, I saw the guy who did it. I'm the only one who did it. That's better, and your guns are treating me nice. If you saw the murderer, you couldn't help me out. Sure. What do I get for it? A merit badge? Things are coming too fast. I got to do some checking. You better spill what you know or else I'm low to forget mine. You've got a nice lever there, hustler. If you can back up your talk, if the dame's dead. Look who's bargaining. Before I tell you anything, I need to check around. Just wait a while. The cops'll tell you everything. I like to find out things for myself. You will. I got a good grapevine in a county jail. Now I'll do it the hard way. You forget I have a lever on you now. Yeah. Remind me to get scared about that. Try some aspirants for that, innit? I woke up twice before I decided to make it stay that way. The house was so quiet I could hear someone play on the piano several houses away. It was a nice clean sound, neat and full of try. No wise guys in a figure in fancy double crosses. No dead bodies. No policemen who argued with their knuckles instead of their heads. Probably some girl who thought a blackjack was a card game. I lay there, listened to the music for a while, and I got up and brushed off my clothes. There were three places I could find Brown. He wouldn't dare go to his home. He wouldn't return to the hideout. That left Skip's place. On the way over, I stopped at a drugstore and phoned Jaco to find out if he'd turned up anything. He left out the hiccups. It went like this. Hello, you reprobate renegade from all its good and holy. Skip the overture. Do you check on those people I ask you about? Sure I found out about them. Old Dr. Madigan and his crystal ball. He knows all and he knows all and... like that there. Tighten it up and tell me some. That girl Alice Stone, you remember? How can I forget? She lived with a dame in the potrero named Skip Harper. Nice people. The landlord served eviction notices every day except legal holiday. Yes, I'd like a good time, then what? Then she owns a half-interest in the gambling joint around Lake Tahoe. It's not much of a place. They say the roulette wheels of so many magnets hung around them, the meals began to come out of the walls. Her partner runs the joint and she shows the suckers in from down here. How'd you make it the wheels cooking? I have my informants. I have a network of good drinking folk who get around and hear things all the time. You'd be surprised how careless a guy can get with talk when he's got his elbow in a bar room astray. Now as I was saying... If the wheels are fixed, how come Brown was able to shake the joint down for 50,000? I don't know how he did it. Maybe he was wired, too. All I know is that they've got better control of the ball than Bob Feller ever had on his best day. It's easy to believe, if you know Skip's partner. Introduce me. Name's Vinanti. What's that again? The partner's name's Vinanti. He's wanted in eight states and Cuba. Vinanti. I'll remember the name. Where'd you get on, Brown? John Brown? Oh, swell guy. Help free the slaves. A friend of man, a tribute to the making. Oh, I've heard that song. Now let's talk about the local Brown. A small-time hustler, petty Larson-ey stuff. You didn't get any tie-ins with Vinanti? Oh, yeah. He was up at the gambling joint near Tahoe last night. Cleaned the place out. 50,000 dollars. I could buy a lot of schnapps. Let's begin to fit together. No doubt your mighty intellect has found the key. I can count up to 10 if I don't wear mittens. Sometimes 13, I'll bet. Well, who did what to who? Brown's got a partner working for him. You don't see. I'm going over and shake it out of Brown. You must know where the guy's hiding. Well, don't go looking into too many auto trunks. Those things bite. So long, lover. What Jaco told me began to give me some hope. The thing the picture needed was one more man. And a partner for Brown would round it out nicely. Yeah, Brown must have figured someone to try to hijack his role and hired a friend to bring it down to San Francisco. I didn't explain the killing. I didn't explain a lot of things. But it was the lead of the guy who could explain it. I needed Brown. So I got in the car over the hills towards Skip Harbor's place. I began to feel better. I was thinking how Hellman would look when I dumped the killer in his lap. There was a crowd along the street in front of Skip's place. Just as I drew up, Hellman came out on the porch. So I got out of the car of one of the neighbors pointed to me. Novak, huh? They gave me a description, but I didn't think it was you, the guy they described sounded human. You'd yoke stink, Hellman. Trimotating birds are juggling. The bird imitations are for you, Novak. You'll be singing the DEA any minute now. Come on in the house. It's Brown. Where's the dame? What did you do? Kill her, too? Come off it, Hellman. You can't pin this on me. I don't have to. The neighbors did it for me. Why should I kill my alibi? Because it wasn't. What did you do with the dame, Novak? Why don't you try thinking for a change? I do my poor best. For instance, I think you killed the dame in the car and then tried to saw it off in Brown. Then you caught Brown here this morning and killed him. What for? The 50 grand Brown won at the broken tee up at Lake Tahoe. The neighbors saw me come here. I must have seen Brown come here, too. After I'd left, nobody saw Brown come. Why didn't you buy a witness, Novak? You can afford it. The dame's gone? We haven't looked under the rugs. How'd you get the dope on Brown when all that dope? Wave phone, Tahoe, bright boy. You heard about the telephone? I'm vaguely. Who'd you talk to? The police. And then a guy named Van Ande. He says he remembers you following Brown out and that the dame was with you, too. It's a lie. Sure, but the 50,000 bucks are still missing. Brown wasn't with me. He was a little guy. It's the climate. He grew since you two dropped in here this morning. I need some pictures. Well, you dropped Brown. The dame's gonna drive you home. You propositioned her on the way to help knock off Brown. She turned to Don. Not those kind of pictures. Are there any photographs around the house? Yeah, some in the bedroom. Come on, let's look. The way she looked, she'd like cameras. Here's one on the beach. What's she wearing? That's a bathing suit. Here's the one. Tau. Well, look at this nightclub gown. How did they hold those things up? Thumbtacks. And so that's Van Ande. Look at the two of them posing in front of their sucker trap. So what? And he's the guy who did it. Sure, or with a phone. Did you phone him or he phone you? He phone. You want him? What for? I got you. He's here in the city hiding out at Brown's place at the beach. Gives you address. What kind of a windy is this, Norfolk? Pick him up, will ya? He said he was at Tau when he is in the city. It smashes his alibi. All right. But if you're trying any fancy, will ya? Are you going after him or do we roll some more? How to hold you on? I'll be around. You know that. What are you gonna do? I'll get some clean enough to do. There was only one place for Van Ande to be. I headed the car out the currow and down Bayshire highway to the airport. I was betting everything on a hunch. Sometimes that's the way you have to play it. Sometimes hunches pay off. The plane I got was built for hurry. Skip still had her overnight bag in her hand when I walked in on them at the broken tee. Van Ande began to act nervous when he saw me. He had not skipped. I began to wonder if she'd ever known how it felt to be frightened. You'd never guess it from the way she talked. Hello, Norfolk. Don't you ever shade? I had a close one just now. It doesn't show. You don't know where to look. What do you want, Norfolk? I got it. Don't be cryptic, baby. It doesn't become you. You don't act nervous. Did you care about jail? Nobody's going to jail, Norfolk. Except you, maybe. I'd be nervous if I had explained all those dead bodies back in Frisco. We don't know anything about dead bodies. We've been up here for hours. Yeah? I said it'd be your alibi. That's no alibi, Norfolk. It's a fact. It won't gel, Van Ande. You're cooked. Look, Norfolk. Brown deserved to die. He killed Alice, and before that he fixed the wires on the wheels so he could break this place. He robbed us of $50,000. We had a right to get it back. Is that what Van Ande told you? That's the way it happened, Norfolk. There's $10,000 in it for you if you can remember it that way, too. 10 grand. Easy there, Van. That was a little double talk, baby. He was trying to bribe me to dummy up on you. Dummy up? I know what happened. When you get through dreaming, try this for a bedtime story. Van Ande hired Brown to pick up the winnings while he ran the table. Then with Brown dead, Van Ande was going to fly back here in his private plane for the same alibi he's using now. Only he'd own the broken tea. You're lying. Shut up, Van. Tell me more, Norfolk. A plan began to sour up when Alice tried to thumb a ride. Alice knew him, so he killed him. He still needed to kill Brown, but he figured then he could hang the double killings on me. That made it even better. You're on the needle, Norfolk. The only trouble was that Brown wasn't home, Ben had to chase him. We finally found that Brown was at your place. I don't know what happened there except that Van Ande must have killed Brown before he had a chance to talk. How was that? I'd gone to the store. So when you come back, Brown's dead and Van Ande tells you he did it to recover the money. Yeah. They were going to double-cross me. He's lying, I tell you. See if he can prove it to a jury. I should have known. In case you get any fancy ideas about trying to lie out of it, I got a witness to feel a motor of your plane. It's still hot. A ten grand offer still stands. Uh-uh. I need you to clear me. Yeah. And I could use the sole ownership of this joint. You wouldn't rat on me. Oh, watch me, baby. I'll let you rot in jail. No, Beck. I'll make it 25,000 if you help me quiet this day. You would then? Start out by quieting this. There were lousy shots. They both lived. That is, Van Ande lived until he got a bad case of asthma in the San Quentin gas chamber. Skip got off with a flock of scars and some good advice from the judge to stay away from questionable characters. But advice is free, and Skip was the kind who went after the dough, so I see her now, and then she's gone on us, I think. Sometimes we toss dice, and I've known her to lose. Heard on tonight's program were Ben Morris' Novak, John Galbraith as Inspector Hellman, Jack Lewis' Jaco, and Mary Milford as Skip, with Henry Lef, Jerry Walters, Kurt Martell, and Lucille Bliss. Special music by Otto Clair. Listen next week at this same time when over most of these stations, the American Broadcasting Company presents Pat Novak for hire. This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.