 From Hollywood, it's time now for Edmund O'Brien as... Johnny Dollar. This is Edward Whiteman, Mr. Dollar. I understand that Mr. Sodaberry's death brought you here. Yes, thanks for calling back. I tried to locate the constable, Fred Rehman, I believe his name is. Yes. I haven't found him, so I thought I'd talk with you. You were writing with Mr. Sodaberry when he was killed, is that right? Yes, I was. I'll do everything I can to help you. As a matter of fact, I just left Constable Rehman. Oh, where is he? I'd like to see him. He thinks he's found the place from which the shots were fired. The roof of Goodwin's store. I left him there less than five minutes ago. If you'll meet me in front of your hotel, I'll show you. Thanks, Mr. Whiteman. I'll be down right away. Edmund O'Brien in a transcribed adventure of the man with the action-packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator... Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense accounts submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar... to Home Office Britannia Life Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Sodaberry main matter. Expense account item 142 dollars and 45 cents, airfare, car rental and incidentals between Hartford and Sodaberry. I for one had never heard of the town, but I found it a few miles from Portland, Maine. First two church spires, and then the small group of companion buildings. All set against a peaceful New England background. The first thing I noticed when I drove onto a single business street was that some bunting... A few... The first thing I noticed when I drove onto a single business street was that some bunting and a few American flags were still standing. Reminders of the ceremony during which its leading citizen, Gordon Sodaberry, had been murdered. His personal secretary and assistant, Edward Whiteman, gave me the details after I met him in front of my hotel. The ceremony? Oh yes, you wouldn't have noticed entering town from the east. You didn't know about the factory? No, I hadn't heard. New one? No, Mr. Sodaberry... No, Mr. Sodaberry built it during the first year of World War II. He won some subcontracts from the shipbuilders and hoped to bring new wealth to the town. The ceremony was arranged this morning because it reopened. No, I'd hardly... I could hardly have been called happy even before the tragedy. Oh, the town wasn't in favor of the factory? Probably not. I would cross over here. These people are settled in their ways. The factory changed things. Outside, men came into work, married local girls and took them away. The farmers in the section lost the free labor of their sons to wages and had to hire older men. I can see how it would have set a place like this. You think somebody could have been incensed enough over the reopening that would have killed Mr. Sodaberry? I have no idea. I thought I should mention the feeling of the town. He and I were in the first of three cars driving to the factory. We were in the rear seat. Suddenly, he stiffened. It made the sound that... I couldn't describe it. I didn't know what had happened. I don't think I heard the shots. He slumped forward. It was all over. This is Goodwin's store here. Where was the car? As closely as I can recall, it was directly in front. Straight out from here. He passed the show first, stopped as soon as he realized what had happened. That would be about up there, near the wagon. There's a limousine I hear. That's pretty close shooting. But the windows up are down. And they were down. Open that is. How do you get up in the roof of the store? Well, there's stairs in the rear. Fred! No possible run! Yes? Or who's that? Ed Whiteman. There's a man here who's been sent up from Connecticut to see you. I want to ask you some questions. I have to go back to the office. What can I do for you? Why did you pick this roof as the place where the shooting was done? Because Mr. Soderbergh's author was just in front. And none of the others, three or four doors either side, have stairs to them. Hmm, that's good enough. You've been resting a rifle barrel on the force front. It would be some pretty fancy shooting. There have been some fair riflemen in the section for a good number of years now, if you know your history. I've been proud of their shooting at some of the matches we've had, but I can't say I'm so proud now. Do you have any idea where to start? There's been a man in my mind, Ben Sutherland. He had a 60-year-old son killed by a bandsaw when the factory was opened before. And now he's got another, young Ben. He'll reach 16 next week. We walked to the Sutherland house, which was only about a quarter of a mile away, and Fred Rehman gave me the background of the town. The Soda Berries had been in control of the town and the surrounding country for more than three generations. Always they had been respected as thrifty, honest people, but never had they been well liked. The death of 53-year-old Gordon Soda Berry meant the last of the male lineage. This old survivor was his sister Beth many years as junior. The constable didn't seem impressed when I told him that potentially she was some $60,000 richer in cash and view of Gordon's insurance policy. We crossed a bridge to reach Ben Sutherland's house and found his wife waiting for us near the front door. I know why you've come, Fred Rehman. I heard about the trouble. Mr. Sutherland wouldn't do it. He wouldn't do such a thing. Well, I didn't come to see right out that he did. Where's your husband, Mr. Sutherland? Could we talk to him? Who are you? He's Mr. Dollar. Gordon Soda Berry ensured his own life. And this man is looking for the one that took it. You'll both do better as we go some other place for your questions. You'd like to talk to your husband if he'll tell us where he is. He ain't here. And young Ben? Where is he? He ain't here either. Where did they go? We wouldn't come here if we didn't have reason to. The constable told me your husband has made threats against Gordon Soda Berry because of the death of your other son. You must have known that. So now you must understand why we're here. Mr. Sutherland's a God-fearing man and he wouldn't take the law into his own hands. You know that, Fred Bremen. He called you his friend. I'm nobody's friend now. If you're convinced he has nothing to do with the trouble, why don't you tell us where he is? Because he told me not to. I keep my husband's word. He said, don't tell anybody so I won't. Well, when did he leave? Last night. He drove his truck. I know the sound of it. And if he'd come through town, it would awoke me. So he went the other way. I know that road. And where he'd pass through. Well, he don't leave me no doubt, Mrs. Sutherland. I'll have to put the state police after the truck. Your business, which you have to do, not mine. Don't you see you're making it worse by trying to hide the truth? Hide the truth? I'm keeping a trust, young man. And if you don't know the work of a trust, you don't know the work of anything. I went back with Constable Raymond to his house where he lived alone and which doubled as an office. He phoned the description and license number of Sutherland's truck to his county superiors. And with the typical disinterest hire echelon seemed to maintain for lower echelon problems, they told him they wouldn't be able to take delivery of Sothebury's body until the following day. That left us with no better than a vague promise as to when we'd get such vital points as the caliber of the murder weapon, the entry angle of the fatal bullet, and the distance from which it was fired. Raymond left me and went to talk with some of the townspeople. And that evening, soon after dusk, I went to the Sothebury home hoping that his sister, Beth, would be in condition to receive me. Yes? Uh, is Miss Sothebury in? Yes, she's in. I wonder if she feels well enough to see me. Does she know who you are? Not yet. I've been hired by her brother's insurance company to look into his debt. Can you tell her that, please? Oh, yes, of course. Won't you come in? Thank you. My name's Taft. I'm a friend of the family. Taft? My name is Donald. How do you do? Beth is in the sitting room. I'll leave it to your judgment. That is, I hope that if you visit, upset her, you won't press her. I won't. All right. Beth? Yes. Come in, Lawrence. Who, who wait? Oh. This is Mr. Dollar. He's from the insurance company. I see. Please, sit down. Thanks. I don't believe I quite understand, Mr. Dollar. I'm an insurance investigator. Oh, of course. But then would you prefer that we talk to him privately? Well, I'll leave that up to you, Miss Odoveri. I think Mr. Taft has stayed out of his sense of duty. No, I haven't. But at least this will give you a chance to leave for a bit, Lawrence. I'll be all right. All right, Beth. I probably should run home for a while. All right. Thank you ever so much, Lawrence. You've been terribly helpful. I'll phone you in an hour. Good evening, Mr. Dollar. Good night, Mr. Taft. Good night, Mr. Dollar. When did you arrive? About three this afternoon. Then undoubtedly you know more about this, this horrible thing than I do. I'm afraid it's not very much. I've been working with Constable Rehman. He wants to narrow it down to one of the local men who is against the factory reopening. But from what I've learned, it refuses to be narrowed very much on that basis. Of course, I'm afraid you're quite right. My brother was not famous for making friends. I say that at the risk of sounding cold and unemotional. Emotion very seldom helps in my work. Which is ferreting out the truth. I think Gordon understood what he was doing. I'm sure he did. He knew that our people did test change. They simply can't cope with it. Yet he forced it on them in 1942. You feel yourself to be a part from your people, Miss Sotheberry? Yes, but only by reason of inheritance. Change was forced upon me too. I was much younger than my brother. I was sent to school in England, but I came back and found it quite easy to forget and settle back into this tiny world. I suppose the whole town did during the years after the factory closed. Of course it did. There was one particular man, Ben Sutherland. What do you think of him? I don't know. I suppose his name is in everyone's mind tonight. The death of his son because of the hated factory. It had a violent reaction on him. And why not? He knew his son hadn't been born to stand in front of the machine that killed him. What did he say? He can't be located. Left town last night he took young Ben with him. I hope it isn't him. He suffered enough. What could be troubling the general? That's your dog? Yes, General Scott. He did an alarm when you arrived, did he? Oh, it was the first I've heard from him. Someone else's animal, perhaps. Said that seldom happens. He's well able to fend for himself. He's a... By the time we got Noelle Antoinette and I found the dog, he was moving silently toward the house, trailing what looked like a fractured front leg. I didn't know what to think when I told the surviving sister about it. She didn't seem frightened. But I couldn't help wondering whether her loyalty to her people wasn't misplaced and whether the killer hadn't decided to eliminate all the Sotheberries from the town that bore their name. I phoned Constable Raman as soon as I got back into the house, but it was a needless call. The sound of the shots in the quiet village had aroused everyone, and those who cared seemed to know right where to come. The first to arrive was Edward Whiteman, the dead man's assistant. Less than a minute later, the Constable and Lawrence Taft. After we'd made another swing around the house without turning up anything and after we'd satisfied ourselves that Beth Sotheberry was well protected, Raman and I started back to my hotel. Tell me about Beth and these others, Whiteman and this man Taft. Which end do you want first? Whiteman. He's not a native, is he? No, he's from Bangor. He came here when Mr. Sotheberry commenced to open up. He's not an old friend like Taft then? Not hardly. Lawrence Taft was orphaned a good deal back. His folks died in a fire. Mr. Sotheberry took him in, sent him to school in Brunswick. Taft helped him with the factory last time. He made a smart man out of them, but I wouldn't say they're happy with him. How come? Unless folks leave town and never come back, they're all mixed up. When they're twisted between like Taft is, it ain't natural. That's pretty much what Beth told me. She and him have been sort of thick, Raman. Well, I'll cut across here. We've got your direction straight. Yeah. Where was Lawrence Taft this morning, Constable? You mean when the trouble broke out? That's right. We've missed Beth, most likely. Why? I guess we can check that then. You aren't thinking he killed Mr. Sotheberry, are you? I don't want anything to slip by us. You don't know us people. We pay what we owe if it takes all our life. The debt that was between them two was thicker than blood. Lawrence Taft would have killed himself before he would have killed Mr. Sotheberry. You know them better than I do. That's the truth. I'll see you in the morning. I hope you sleep well. The next day, things moved along a little more according to the book. The countymen arrived before noon to remove the body for autopsy and ballistics examination, and soon after they left to report... The countymen arrived before noon to remove the body for autopsy and ballistics examination, and soon after they left, a report came in from the state police. Ben Sutherland and his truck had been spotted leaving a town five miles away. A car escorted them to Sotheberry, and the constable and I were at his house when he arrived. Ben! What's ever happened to you? Ben! You're naked tongue. Go in the house where you're suited to be. I'll tend to your plight when I'm alive, too. Yes, Ben. I was only worried. I think I've hurt so horrible. Run the look of your face in your clothes, Ben. You've been through one thing or another. Who might you be? My name is Daller. I'm an insurance investigator. Please come to help me defend the laws of the state, Ben. It's true, Fred, that Mr. Sotheberry was shot and killed. That's true. When did you hear about it, Mr. Sutherland? Those men that stopped me, they told me. But you wanted to talk to me about it, Fred. That's true. And I don't take to it, because we were friends. You left town, I'd fall ass, Mr. Sutherland. Where'd you go? Do I have to answer this stranger's question? It'll be better if you do. That night I made up my mind what I had to do. I took young Ben away. That's my youngest son. I should have took my oldest boy. I knew I should have. But I listened to the talk about the factory and wages and such things. So I didn't take him, and that factory did. And I never got him back. And you've blamed Gordon Sotheberry for it all these years. No, I've blamed myself. I knew what to do, and I didn't do it. Didn't you make public threats against him? That was a coward's talk. I talked big in front of my friends. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't kill him, Fred. Where'd you go the other night? I heard the talk start again. Young Ben talking about the factory, what the wages would buy. He'd be careful, he told me. And if he earned enough wages, he'd go to school like Laurence Taft, crazy like his brother. And I'd put an axe handle to him and put him in the truck and carried him away. Where, Mr. Sutherland? He's on a farm where he belongs, up north, above Brighton. He's on a farm where he'll be safe. How far away is it? More than 20 miles. What time did you leave? After nine o'clock. You got there before midnight, then? He slept in the truck. I left him with Alex Turner. Son of... Then you had time to drive back here before the factory... Then you had time to drive back here before the factory ceremony started. I went to Brighton. Your face is scratched and cut. Your clothes are torn. How did that happen? I fought with a man. What man, and why did you fight? I don't know what man. I don't know who. I fought because I was drunk. I went to Brighton to drink, and that's what I did. Not for nine years, has that happened? You didn't come back here last night and have to find out a dog at the Sotheberry Place? I was in Brighton. If you were, you'll probably be asked to prove it. That's where I was. And you'd better start remembering who you fought or who you were with. That's all for me, consul. We were involved with approximately 280 people, most of whom were known to each other by sight, at least. The word consul will run and had been doing without me had alibied most of them. Practically everybody had been on the street during the start of the ceremony and at the time of the shooting. Less than 40 were unaccounted for at 5.30 that afternoon when the county officers called in their report. Point of entry was just below the left armpit. The arm hadn't been touched. The angle of entry still made it look like the killer had fired from the roof of the store. And the murder weapon was identified as a not-too-common rifle, caliber 253,000. In an hour, the unaccounted four citizens seemed to be trimmed down at four who owned that caliber rifle. Then Sutherland was among them. It was close to noon the following day before the results of the test firing came back. The murder weapon wasn't among the rifles that were sent in. Well, then I did something wrong. I am no great shapes of trouble like this. It's not necessarily that we did something wrong, consul. Maybe we just didn't do quite enough. One of those 253,000's got away from us. A man's rifle is no secret here. He's proud of it. What kind of rifle did Gordon Soda very own? Why? The townspeople hated the factory. That's the motive we've given them. But none of them own the murder weapon. Not even poor Ben Sutherland with a stronger motive than anyone else. Unless he could have bought a rifle with just this in mind and kept it hidden. I don't know. We'll work on that, too. But for now, let's look at the people we've neglected. Edward Whiteman can't be involved because he was sitting next to the victim. You tell me Lawrence Taft is clear. He wouldn't ever kill Mr. Sotheberry. Then the sister. She seems to belong more to the town than to the family. She didn't approve of what her brother was doing. I can't hold a thing like that in my mind. We don't kill our kin here. There are some that have. Will you do this for me? Will you get the three of them in here and keep them for an hour? How would I keep them? I don't know. Write up a statement for them to sign. Something about the ballistics reports. You can spend some time over them. Then ask the sister. They're going to detail about what she's going to do with the factory. I'll try to take less than an hour. I ain't saying I can do it word for word, but I'll try. And if you will write that statement, I'll be obliged. I ain't so good with a pace. It took me somewhat less than an hour and what I found didn't make sense for a while. A rifle, well hidden beneath some torn clothes in the closet. The rifle's caliber matched that of the weapon that had killed Gordon Sodaberry. I reached his home soon after his sister did. Yes, you're here, Mr. Dollar. How much do you know what laid behind the trouble the other morning? I beg your pardon? If you know who killed your brother, you'd better clear your skirts. Two people are going to tear up any lies you tell. Mr. Dollar, if you know, please tell me. Lawrence Taff. Oh, no. No, he didn't. Why do you... Why do you say that? You better say that first, Lauren. Oh, no. No, he didn't. Why do you say that? We've pretty much cleared up... We've pretty much cleared the whole town of the murder. You can't do that without having something left over. Oh, but you're wrong. Lawrence wouldn't kill my brother. That's what I've been told. Would you react the same way if Edward Whiteman was dead and I told you Taff had killed him? I'm sorry. I don't... Lawrence, Lawrence, come here. I'm here, sir. It isn't true. It isn't true, is it? I heard what you said, Mr. Dollar. What reason would you have to say something like that? I just left your house. In it I found a rifle and some clothing that was torn by the dog last night when you evidently came back to over here when I said to Beth. You didn't have any reason to kill Gordon Soda Berry, did you? No, I didn't. But you hated Whiteman, didn't you? The factory, for one. You were important last time, but you were left out the other morning. Isn't that right? Always the factory. What difference did it make to you, Lawrence? Bremen told me the people... Bremen told me you people always paid your debts. Maybe that was it. That an outsider came in and forced him out so he couldn't prove himself. Maybe he was afraid Whiteman would force him out of your life, too. I don't know. Lawrence, you didn't think that I... Yes. You did try to kill Edward Whiteman, didn't you? Yes. And Gordon Soda Berry was killed by mistake. Yes. I didn't know. I didn't mean to. I know I'm weak and I'm mixed up. I don't know where I belong. I thought I knew he couldn't stay here. Whiteman was taking my place and I knew people were laughing at me because I failed. I did try to kill him. Thought it was for you. I didn't know until later. Later I found out. Later. I found out it was Gordon. It was that Gordon. Everything. Everything. Expense account item two, same as item one, transportation back to Hartford. Expense account total, $84.90. Remarks? None. Except that maybe the now wealthy Beth Soda Berry may have been right. That anybody with generations of background in an insular village like that does take a gamble when he comes out. To say nothing of a half-generation Hartfordian when he goes in. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours 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 can soon be seen in the Paramount Pictures production Warpath. Featured in tonight's cast were Robert North, Howard McNeer, Virginia Gregg, Larry Thor, Sammy Hill, Herb Butterfield and David Light. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. This is Bob Lamond inviting you to join us next week at this time when Edmund O'Brien returns as... Yours truly, Johnny Dollar.