 From Hollywood, it's time now for... Johnny Deller. This is Harry Branson at Philadelphia Mutual Life and Casualy Company. Oh, hello, Harry. What's with you? John, I have a case I'd like you to handle for us. It's, uh, well, it's somewhat unusual. Have you ever handed me one that wasn't completely screwy? I said unusual. And I said screwy. So now that we understand each other, what's it all about? Well, absolutely nothing yet. Uh, but I'm very apprehensive about one of our clients. Oh, Harry, you're the biggest worry-ward I ever knew. Yeah, what was that? I said, who is this client? Oh, Dr. Walter Merrill. Merrill? The scientist? That's right. Nobel Prize winner? The man who worked out the molecular orbital contraction, something or other? Yes, yes. That's the one. As I say, John, I'm worried. Well, who wouldn't be? About him. I'll be right down to see you. Bob Bailey in the exciting adventures of the man with the action-packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Deller. Expense accounts, submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Deller. To the Philadelphia Mutual Life and Casualty Insurance Company in Philadelphia, where else? Following is an account of expenses incurred during my investigation of the clever chemist matter. Expensive transportation and incidentals hard-fired to New York to Philadelphia. I didn't even stop to check my bag, but headed directly for the Philly Mutual Building on Walnut Street. Harry Branson is a good insurance man, but a great warrior. Nonetheless, he'd given me some pretty important tool. And after all, what do we live for? Hey, I'll keep the change. Thanks, Doc. John, what took you so long? Oh, now what's the matter, Harry? Forget to pay the rent on your office or just forgot the key? No, John, as a matter of fact, I have the key right... This is hardly the place for levity. Well, surely you haven't been waiting here on the sidewalk ever since you called me. No, I haven't, but by checking plane schedules, I was able to determine when you'd arrive almost to the minute and not wanting to waste time taking you upstairs to the office. What are you, is it a matter, huh? Well, you should be here shortly. What? Well, now usually I arrange these things myself, Harry. Yes, and how we pay... Oh, Harry, you're touching me to the quick. Well, now, please don't misunderstand me. I don't mean that there's ever anything really dishonest about your expense account. You know, well, you ought to. Believe me, I'll pad it to the hill if I think I can get away with it. Anyway, the most important reason for engaging the car was so that you can leave immediate... Mallika. Yes, New Jersey. Is that where Dr. Merrill is? Yes. As is his custom, he chooses to work in some isolated spot where he can't possibly be disturbed. He and his colleague, that is. Collie. I always heard that he worked alone, freelance. And you heard the right, however, he now has a professor, Theodore Nash, with him. Nash? One of us, according to Dr. Merrill. Never heard of him. John, they're working together on what I'm sure is some top secret project. Oh. Oh, see, wait. Didn't Merrill have something to do with the early rocket experiments? Precisely. Which is why I suspect their present work may have something to do with the space satellite or intercontinental missiles or something of the sort. Yeah, possible. But what has all this got to do with you? Their insurance. Dr. Merrill has had a policy with us for some years. $25,000. Oh. And probably, he took out a policy for $10,000. Beneficiary? Nash made Dr. Merrill his beneficiary. Oh, that sort of thing is often done between men working together. Harry, you know that. Yes, so that if anything happens to one, the other will be financially able to carry on what they've started. Sure, all right. Which is no doubt why Dr. Merrill changed the beneficiary of his policy to Theodore Nash. So? What's the worry? No sooner was the change made than I received a letter of protest from Dr. Merrill's daughter. Who's she? Mrs. Howard Harding, she and her husband live in West Philadelphia. He's a welder for an aviation company, I think. Well, what did she base her protest on, Harry? She claims her father must have been coerced into changing the policy. Oh, now, wait a minute. That sounds like the hungry relative who complains about being cut out of the will. It might. If Mrs. Harding weren't a perfectly well-balanced, intelligent, and I'm sure a quite unselfish person, a completely... Uh, is she good-looking? Well, yes. And real sweet to you? Yes, she is. Now, John, I don't know what you're trying to imply. I do it every time. John. Particularly when there's a bit of money involved. Good-looking insurance broker like you, and you're a bachelor, too, aren't you, Harry? John, you're pulling my leg. Oh, Harry. But then I guess we're all suckers or something like that. That has nothing to do with it. I've had these hunches before, John, and they've always been right. Even you will have to admit that. Yeah. You all confess that in the cases I've handled for you so far... Why don't you call up Dr. Merrill? I think the quaint old fella would die rather than have a phone near enough to disturb him in his... Oh, there's your rental car waiting at the curb. So off you go, John, and see what you can find out. Okay, Harry. It all sounds like a lot of nothing you're worried about, but as long as you're willing to pay for it. And I always did like South Jersey this time of year. I drove across the Delaware River Bridge into Jersey and headed for Route 45 to Westville, Woodbury, and finally Pittman, where I picked up Route 47. What Harry had said was true. These hunches of his had a remarkable way of panning out. And yet, oh, who was I to complain? After a pleasant hour's drive through Cranberry Bog and Farm Country, through miles of orchards and the intoxicating odor of the peach blossoms, I pulled into the quiet little town of Malaga, a population, oh, I'd say around 500. First stop, the post office. Dr. Merrill? Yeah, sure. You go back the way he came about a mile until you see the name Wampus Bung. Wampus what? Wampus means cat. Bung? Bungalow. Wampus Bung. Yeah. Yeah, the doctor and the professor got the fourth cottage beyond it. Quite one with a fence around it. Yeah, good. Thanks. And if you don't mind, you can take their mail out to them. They haven't been in to pick it up for five days now. Oh, nothing wrong, is there? Well, who knows? Way those two keep to themselves. Well, you'd think whatever they're working on was the atomic bomb. Yeah, well. Just to be sure, you let them know that you're at the gate now before you try to go through the fence. Oh, what's that supposed to mean? The professor sees you prowling around. He's liable to take a shot at you. As I drove back and toward the edge of little Malaga Lake, the idea of getting shot at by anyone living in this peaceful quiet place seemed ridiculous. The lake itself, by the way, looked pretty inviting. I made a mental note to come back here on my own sometime after the fishing season opened. As the postmaster had indicated, the fourth cottage beyond Wampus Bung was heavily fenced in, so I gave notice of my arrival. I'd barely left the car when the door of the little cottage opened. Dr. Merrill, my name is Dollar, sir. Johnny Dollar, insurance investigator. Yes, and that's right. Harry Branson sent me down here to see you. Oh, come in. Come in. I'm most glad to see you. Please, come into the house. All right, thank you. Is Professor Nash here? In the laboratory, but please come into the house. As I spoke, the sliding door on the garage at the side of the house opened. I rather swore the man stepped out, quickly closed the door and threw a heavy bolt on it, then looked over toward us suspiciously. Yes, because it's better that you and I talk in private alone. Doctor, who is that? Oh, yes, Professor. If we have a visitor, why do you not bring him here where we can both speak to him? Oh, oh, yes, yes, of course. This is Mr. Johnny Dollar, Professor Theodore Nash. Mr. Dollar? I do, Professor. I'm from your insurance company, just making a little routine checkup. Oh, fine, fine. I'm very glad to see you. As a matter of fact, I wish to talk with you. How do you do? Now, come into the laboratory. Professor, do you think it wise? Oh, of course, Doctor. Since he is not a man of science, I'm sure there is no harm in his seeing it. And you have an experiment going on, remember? But I wish to speak to him. Mr. Dollar, within these four walls, the genius of Dr. Merrill and my own poor efforts are creating things that will startle the world. Outside the small building look like an ordinary two-car garage. Someone in need of paint and repair. But inside it was immaculate and loaded with scientific equipment of all shapes and sorts and sizes. There were racks of test tubes, bottles of chemicals, beakers, a centrifuge. Machines and apparatus I'd never seen before. But I imagine much of the world never dreamed of. And all of it as neat as a pin, not so much as a stirring rod out of place. Ah, look, Doctor, the polymerization step is almost complete. Now, you must continue with the molecular balance check immediately. Oh, oh, yes. And you must both leave me. This must not be seen by any of us. Now, we understand, Doctor. We understand. I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Dollar. Yes, of course, Doctor. Oh, come, Mr. Dollar. I will lock the door. Yes. He does require privacy, doesn't he? Yes. Oh, hey, you're not going to bolt that door off. Oh, oh, of course, Nora. Force of habit, I guess. Oh, it is he who keeps things locked so tightly when he is working, unnecessarily so. But then genius has permitted his idiosyncrasies, huh? Harry Branson seems to think you too may be working on something to do with guided missiles. Very perceptive man. But that is something we must not speak about. Now, why have you come here, Mr. Dollar? Well, like I said, just a routine check-up. We usually do this when a sizeable policy has changed. Oh, there is something unusual about two men working together on important things, ensuring in each other's favor. Well, no. But when his daughter perhaps objects. You know Doctor Merrill's daughter? I know about her, and about her unfortunate marriage to that day laborer. Nothing wrong with day laborer, Professor? Yeah, but one who waits for a great man like the doctor to die so that he can get his hands on the insurance money. You think that's why his daughter objected to the change? Of course. But his money will be used to further his work by me. And, of course, for the good of humanity. I see. Well, how soon do you think the doctor will be through with his experiment? An hour, perhaps two. And then he will call me into a system with an X, the crucial step. No. Well, look, why don't I run in town, arrange for a place to stay, grab a bite to eat, and then come back here? Would you like? I'm sorry we have no room in the cottage. No, I'll give you the second thought. I'll see you later. Something of Harry Branson's hunch had passed on to me. A strange feeling about the whole setup. There was something wrong about both Merrill and Nash, particularly the latter. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Was Doctor Merrill afraid of Nash? I don't know. I came to a dollar even for a quick bite in a little cafe along the highway after I'd made arrangements for a room for the night in a private home. It was not much over an hour later when I drove back to the little cottage by the lake. And then I heard it. Someone pounding on the door of the laboratory from the inside. Someone calling for help. Professor! Put the locks on the inside! Turn the lock! What? Hold here on the... Oh, what are you... Good Lord, Professor, what happened to you? You look like you've been run over by... Doctor Merrill. Too late. Too late. Professor, what happened here? He beat me. Through acid at me. The doctor? No. The man who... He then... He killed the doctor with a gun. He... He... Oh, Professor, who? I... I don't... No. Only Johnny Dollar in just a moment. Democracy. To the many who have lived under tyranny, democracy comes as a guiding light shining on a brighter future. That is because democracy stands for the establishment of government conceived from deep thought and free choice, rather than being based on accident and force. It is also normal that the free choice of a democratic government happens because people who choose their own government are directed by true interests in the welfare of mankind. Democracy has been proven to be mankind's greatest legacy of freedom. Now act two of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, and the clever chemist matter. Expense account item $310 for the services of one Dr. Frederick Foote, the only resident medical in the little town of Malaga, New Jersey. After pronouncing Dr. Walter Merrill dead, he took the badly beaten Professor Nash to his office clinic. While waiting for Nash to get in good enough shape to talk, I ran up item 4, 10 cents phone call to the sheriff, who promised to come over as soon as he could enlist the aid of the nearby state police. Finally, Dr. Foote gave the word. But I suggest you talk with him as little as possible, Mr. Dollar. In pretty bad shape, huh, Dr. Foote? Intruder not only beat him severely, but threw a bottle of acid in his face. Professor Nash will never have the use of his left eye again because of that nitric acid. Has Nash said anything that might help us identify the assailant and killer? Now, please don't talk with him too long. Professor? Yes. Hello, Professor. Oh, Mr. Dollar, I will never see again with my left eye. He has told me. Yes, I know. I'm sorry. But the great Dr. Merrill, he is dead. What a loss. Professor. Professor, tell me, did you see the man who attacked you? Yes. Can you describe him at all? He is still young, not more than 30, five feet, six or eight, very heavy, stocky, and black curly hair. Yeah. Hands like working men labor it. Have you ever seen this man before? No, I... Oh, here, some water. Thank you, thank you. Do you know why he came in and attacked you and Dr. Merrill? No. Was he after something? They're in the laboratory. Not only to kill Dr. Merrill, I tried, I tried to defend him. I'm sorry, Mr. Dollar, but I think that's enough. Yes, yes, okay, Dr. Foote. I think I've heard enough. I managed to get back to the cottage by the lake before the police arrived and came up with one very damning piece of evidence. In one of the bedrooms, I found a picture of a wedding couple. It was inscribed, love to the dearest father in the world, and next to the bride stood a man who answered perfectly the description Professor Nash had just given me, the husband of Dr. Merrill's daughter, Howard Harding. And then I thought of what Nash had said about Harding, his antagonism, his conviction that Harding was the one who resented the change in the insurance policy. But there was something else, too, that had happened when I talked with Nash in the doctor's office that... By the time I got back to the laboratory, the sheriff and state police arrived. The sheriff, I'm afraid, must have any prints that might have been left on the bottle of acid. However, in the weeds outside, a state trooper found the pistol, a .38 caliber Luger that had killed Dr. Merrill. Fingerprints had apparently been wiped off, but the gun was carefully... fingerprints. Before taking off in a mad dash back to Philadelphia, I stopped at Dr. Foots and picked up one water tumbler. Item 5, 370 for a tank full of gas. Item 650 cents, parking in Philadelphia as close as possible to Harry Branson's office. What have you found out about Dr. Merrill? Harry, he's dead. Oh, dear. Now listen, write down the address of Mr. and Mrs. Howard Harding for me. His daughter, does she know? No, she doesn't know yet, and I hope I can avoid telling her before I write it down, will you, man? Well, yes, of course, but... Take this. Don't unwrap it, but see that it gets to Ray Kemper fast. I'll check with him about it later, thanks. But now, John... Harry, this is one time this expensive kind of mind is gonna save you a lot of money. I don't know how many red lights I skipped on the drive out to West Philadelphia, but I felt like a hound dog in a hot scent. The home of Mr. and Mrs. Howard Harding turned out to be in a nice, quiet residential area. I was met at the door with a girl in the wedding picture. A tall, very nice-looking blonde in her late 20s. Oh, yes? Mrs. Harding? I'm Terry Harding. Well, I'm Johnny Dollar from your father's insurance company. Oh, good. Come in. Perhaps you can help me make him do something about that policy of his. Well, that isn't exactly... Someone is poison Daddy's mind, Mr. Dollar. Oh, what do you mean? What isn't that I need the money if Daddy dies, which heaven forbid. Oh, it doesn't exactly look as though you do. Of course we don't. Howard's been doing so wonderfully at colonial aviation. Yes, apparently. And I'd had a notion he was just a laborer or something. Oh, dear, no. That's what Daddy called him because... Well, because he wasn't too fond of Howard. And that is the way Howard started before we were married, but now he's one of the officers of the company. Oh, where is he, Mrs. Harding? Well, as a matter of fact, I thought you were Howard when you drove up just now. He's been fishing. Fishing? Some little lake over in Jersey. He goes every Saturday all by himself. Malaga Lake? No, Malaga's where Daddy was. Mm-hmm. He and that. That what, Mrs. Harding? Well, I... I don't know. It's Howard, I guess. What do you mean? Howard has never liked or trusted him, even though they've never actually met when Daddy changed his insurance to name that professor. There is something wrong about that man, Mr. Dollar. What, Mrs. Harding? I don't know. Daddy always worked alone until he came along. Daddy's such an alert, bright-eyed little busybody in spite of his age that... Your father... Like a cute little wound up spring hopping about like a... Mrs. Harding. Yeah? Mrs. Harding, when I saw your father... You've seen Daddy. Well, then you know what I mean. He was tired. Almost in the days. He spoke with difficulty. Oh, no, you're mistaken. He chatters away like a jaybird. He... What is it, Mr. Dollar? Well, he must have been dope. He looked as though... Hi, honey. Well, I'm just as lousy a fisherman as usual. Not a single... Oh, excuse me. Mr. Harding, just tell me one thing. Well, that depends. Who are you? Mr. Dollar's from the insurance company, darling. Not Johnny Dollar. Yeah, that's right. Well, I've certainly heard of you. Uh, tell me... No, you tell me, Harding. Where have you been? Why, fishing... Where? Over in Jersey. Where on Jersey? A little private lake. Where? Over near Mount Holly. One place I know of where nobody else ever goes where I can get rid of the cobwebs at my job. Hey, wait a minute, Dollar. What is this? Harding? You've been identified as the man who murdered Dr. Walter Merrill. What? I'm sorry, Mrs. Harding. I'm sorry, but it's true. What are you talking about, darling? You didn't know about it? Of course not. How could I? Where did it happen? How? In his place in Malligan. Professor Nash. I'll kill that man. Don't take it easy. You seem to forget that so far you're the only suspect of the case. You're out of your mind. Who was anybody who was at Nash? Never have trusted that man. And the insurance policy. If anybody killed Dr. Merrill, I'm sure it was that professor. Now, listen to me. Nash was with Dr. Merrill when he was killed there in his laboratory. Of course he was. But Nash was attacked also, beaten. Acid thrown at him. He lost the sight of one eye because of it. And I tell you... You sure? Yes, of course I'm sure. It was I who found him. Nash beating against the inside of the door of that laboratory crying for help. A door that was bolted on the outside. But, Dollar, I... You're sure of that? I'm sure. Well, I still think... Oh, Terry, I'm sorry, honey. Here, let me... So terrible. Better answer that phone, Howard. Yeah. Hello? Oh, yes. It's for you, Mr. Dollar. Oh, thanks. Terry, here. Come on, you've got to pull yourself together. Johnny Dollar. Right. John, this is Harry Branson. I just received a call from Mr. Kemper at the Federal Bureau. Yes. He says he must see you immediately. Call him back, Harry. Tell him I'll be there in 15 minutes. Finding just to keep things straight, I wouldn't leave this house if I were you. Well, now wait a minute, Dollar. Just sit tight. I think you're in the clear. More red lights got passed up on my way into the Philadelphia offices of the Bureau. So, Ray Kemper felt that whatever he'd found was important. If so, it would back up one of my suspicions. But in view of the circumstances, that bolted door in the laboratory, for instance, how could it? Important as putting it mildly, Johnny. The prints you found on the water glass, Ray. Three sets. One, you're... Yeah, well, naturally. Two, Dr. Frederick Foote, who is currently practicing medicine. I know, I know. In the town of Malaga, New Jersey. That's where the glass came from. Oh. But the Thirds had a print. Yes. I had to go into the international file for them. And Johnny... Nash, Theodore Nash? Nash. Nashevsky. What? Theodore Nashevsky. A chemist from one of our not-so-friendly countries. Uh-huh. Expert on explosives. One time, he was thought to have attempted to enter this country. That was in 1940. Ray, have you got any pictures on him? Plenty. From the time he was a kid. Here. Tell me how you picked up these prints. The beard in this picture. That looks like him, all right. Yeah, this too. The shaved head. Almost as though he tried to keep changing his appearance. Johnny is... Wait a sec, wait a sec. This picture of him is a youngster. This eye patch on his left eye. Our dossier is pretty complete. He was quite an athlete until he injured that eye. But it doesn't show in these other pictures. And he hasn't a glass eye. No, his eye always looked perfectly natural. Now, Johnny, if you have information... Ray, this has done it for me. Thanks. Hey, no, just a minute. I'll see you. Hey, Johnny. Hey, man, the tail, Johnny. All the way back to Malligan, New Jersey, I hoped my rental car would hold together. It did, in spite of the fact I pushed it all the way. International intrigue is a bit out of my line, but this time, so helped me. I was beginning to feel like an FBI man. I stopped at state police headquarters along the way, and according to them, Nash was off the hook, not only because of the acid thrown in his face, but even more important because of my own testimony that I found him locked in that laboratory. I stopped again at the lab, nothing. Then back to Dr. Footsault's. Very well, Mr. Daller. When they arrive, I'll insist that they wait for you. All right, thanks, Dr. Professor, you're sitting up. Oh, have they found anything, Mr. Daller? Have they found the men who attacked us and killed poor Dr. Merrill? Professor, I think I have. Oh? But tell me something. Yes, of course. Your, uh... Your government doesn't pay you very well, does it? Merrill and I were not working for the government, Mr. Daller, although, of course, the results of our work... I'm talking about your government, your own real boss. I do not understand. No doubt, it's very much interested in anything this country develops in the line of guided missiles, that sort of thing. Mr. Daller... Now, let me go on. Merrill was doing important work, stuff that would be of great value to any country in the world. Of course. Your country would have paid you well for the results of his work. But, brother, they'll never get it. I do not know what you are talking about. Money, the loot from Merrill's insurance shore. Sure, it was enough to get you out of here after you gained the knowledge you need of Merrill's work. See here, Daller. After you'd killed him before he could give to his country, the United States, what he'd invented... You are a fool. I was beaten to death. The poor old man put up a pretty stiff fight, didn't he? Do you think I would have done this to myself? You gave yourself away earlier when you reached out for a glass of water I handed you right here in this room. A man who'd lost his sight and one eye would have lost his aim until he got used to it. Funny though, it didn't come to me until... You are mad. You haven't seen out of that left eye since you were a kid. I tell you, you are mad. And a little acid burn to make it look like somebody had thrown it at you would be well worth the alibi I'd gave you. Pay it or... Pay it or... That's right. Pay it or on a chef's key. Listen to me. You were the one who found us locked in the door bolted from the outside. You found us. Yeah, also the cord, the string you used to pull the bolt, too, that you looped over the bolt and pulled after you got inside. I didn't have... I dropped it in the vat of acid. Thanks. I was bluffing, but I made a lucky guess. What? Oh, what a brain. The chef's key. I'm sure glad you're not working on our side. The campsilly fished out of his pocket never got to his mouth. And I'm afraid he won't see very well out of his other eye for a while. My knuckles still hurt. And I was lucky for him that the police arrived. I'm afraid I don't like guys like him. Expense account total, including all the incidentals I could think of, and transportation back to Hartford, $84.35. Remarks? Well, don't beef on this one, Harry. The criminal, in spite of being the name beneficiary, doesn't get paid. Yours truly? Johnny Dollar. Here is our store to tell you about next week's story. Next week, a real close look at a little known but very dramatic side of Hollywood. Join us, won't you? Yours truly? Johnny Dollar. The first truly Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey, originates in Hollywood. It is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone, who also wrote tonight's story. Heard in our cast were Virginia Greg, Harry Bartell, Howard McNeer, Boris Lewis, Jack Krushen, Russell Thorsen, Frank Gersel and Bob Bruce. Musical supervision is by Amarigo Marino. Be sure to join us next week. Same time and station for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. The worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.