 Once again, as the MGM crime reporter, it is my privilege to bring you another episode in our Crime Does Not Pay series, for obvious reasons the events and characters depicted herein are fictitious. May I present Mr. Jack Samson, special agent in charge of a field of vision office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Our war program, the most unprecedented in history, calls not only for the production of tanks and guns, planes and ships, but also for the building of a defense against enemy agents within our borders. Agents who once again threatened as they did in 1917. Let us review a typical case that began in the early hours of November 29th, 1941. In a large industrial plant where a quantity of ferromanganese and all vitally essential in the manufacture of machine tools was awaiting the purchase. Fortunately, only one storage bin went up. If the rest of that ferromanganese had been destroyed, our production schedule would have been in pretty bad shape. That siren must have frightened him off before he got to the other bins. That's what I figured, Mr. Samson. I liked picking him up when he was halfway over the fence. We fired, but... So you've got nothing that might help in a possible identification, huh? He was too far away. I see. Do you find anything? No, whatever explosive is used to strut itself. That manganese was a secret shipment, wasn't it? That's right. Who handled it? Five of my most dependable men. They wouldn't talk. Sometimes Mr. Harmon, a man, might talk without meaning to. We don't want to see those five men right away. Right. Where do you get shaved? At Joe s. These are fifth bananas. That's when I was in the bar room, a couple, the circle, and Max Place. Where do you eat? Usually just across the street from the plant at the elite café. Who's your barber? I shave myself. Say, what's all this about? I told you I don't talk about my work. Well, all the same one or two of you might have dropped an idle word that was picked up by some big-eared bartender, a bell-hop. Now, let's get on with the questions. Although no official statement has yet been made regarding the early morning explosion of the Harmon factory, plant authorities indicate strong reasons to suspect sabotage. Federal investigators are still gathering evidence to the scene. Imagine people living in America doing things like that. It's outrageous, madam. In another country, such people are stood up against the wall and shot. Please excuse me, madam. I want it in the office. Certainly, madam. Thank you. Continue with Max. Lord Ziggy, what happened? Something went wrong. I just got through planting the charge in the first storage bin when the alarm system went off. So the Harmon plant remains open while the FBI swam all over the place. Well, I suppose that ends our assignment here. Our superiors will decide that. In a few days, the stupid American democracy will be jolted out of its complacency. We will stay and finish our work. In the meantime, we'll be back with great caution. We can no longer meet like this. Bueller, you will continue in your present situation. Her name is Bueller Anderson. She's a waitress at the elite café and the only good lead we have among the daily public contacts of the five men who handle that manganese shipment. What about her? Well, certain references she gave her employment bureau were fictitious. I checked further. I found that snapshot in a room. I had an expert in architecture break down the background. Now, this is a transparency and enlargement of the snapshot's background. These dull arches indicate the style of architecture is busy. Now, notice this feature here. What appears to be the face of a column. This is the mosque of Saint Sophia in Istanbul. What appears to be the face of a column is actually the face of this minaret. Obviously, this snapshot was taken in front of that mosque. Have Washington telephoto it to the Turkish police. The Turkish intelligence advises subject to picture Bueller bin Vekal, born Serbia 1909, engaged in subversion in Istanbul prior to current war. Shall I pick her up? No, not yet. We've got to find out who her connections are. How about getting me a job in that place? No, no, we can't risk it. After that explosion, she'd be suspicious of any new face she saw in that café. We've got to watch her 24 hours a day. That's Benson and Andrews. They're both mechanics. That's Paul Green. What department? He doesn't work at the plant. He runs a small trucking business in the neighborhood. Benny. Paul. I got it. The contract? Yep, Harman signed it. Boy, what a parade. I'm starting the night using all four trucks. Wow. Yes. Say, I got a phone and tell the wife. Yeah. And here's the phone, lucha. OK, kid. Keep the change, Bueller. Oh, thanks, honey. Be seeing you. Right. Thank you. Yes, she is again. They're all moved yet. The size of this hole suggests that they intended to use a demolition bomb. Undoubtedly set to blow up the machine tools. These trucks were to haul tonight. Now, here's Benny McDonald. I only saw him this afternoon. At the elite café. That's right. I bumped into him just as I got through eating. What'd you talk about? Told me about his good luck. That the plant was going to start using his trucks tonight. Who waited on you? Bueller. A Bueller Anderson. Well, she's overheard the conversation. Sure, she was right there all the time. Thanks, Benny. All right. She's getting information out of that café, all right? We've got to find out, huh? Nothing yet. Keep at it. Look, honey, I'm awful sorry, but I got to stand you up quite a night. Yeah, we're working. Loading some plates for dusting up at the side. I'll see you Saturday. Same crowd. Gee, I'm sort of hungry myself. See what they got, Mark. Oh, let's have a look. Uh, a brisket of beef, a horseradish sauce, a spread of pork, a sourbrot and potato pancakes, corned beef and cabbage, sourbrot and potato pancakes, huh? Corned beef for me. Uh-oh. Wait a minute. Two bits are out of sourbrot. OK, you got a bet. Grinning you pork, hamburger and onions and potatoes, brisket of beef, horseradish sauce, sourbrot and potato pancakes, corned beef and cabbage. All right, it's funny. We're out of nothing. This menu reads the same as the other. The only difference is a few lines have been transposed. Right. You get headquarters. Here, grinders, by rail, Friday, Dunstan. That outfit knows as much about what's going on with the plant as I do, apparently. Mr. Samson, every one of those gear grinders represents hundreds of hours of skilled handwork. They've got to get to the airplane works at Dunstan. They're depending on them to tool up a new production unit. Don't worry, they'll get there, all right. But not by railroad. Ziggy, Anatole, I'm shipping a valuable quantity of cosmetic supplies by railroad to Dunstan, Friday. I can sign them to you. I'll be expecting it. The merchandise in great demand. You should have no trouble disposing of it. We'll dispose of this. One more shot. A big one. Gee, Mike, I'm sorry. I ought to. There, Mike. Let me have a look at it. It's a nasty rip, but I'll have the clinic fix it up. Yes, sir. See you when I get back, huh, Mike? I'm sorry, Mr. Harmon. It's all right, Bennett. I'll sit, Mr. Samson, do I? Get a patrol on the highway in advance of the trucks who aren't the entire trip. Report to me regularly in good life. Sorry, Phil, though. Thanks. Maybe they'll help me cool off. Hi, honey. Waiting along? You know the show's out at 12. That's my third cup of coffee. Sorry. We had a late loading job. Mike, your hand. It's just a scratch. What happened? You were hurrying trying to load some of those trucks. And that dumb kid brother of yours shoved a little too hard on one of those gear grinders. Let me see it. Honey, I says there's nothing to worry about. Come on, let's get going. She's leaving 20 minutes before a regular quitting time. Let's go. Cab is slowing down. 700 Block Orchard Street. He's pulling to a stop in front of a darkened store. She's getting out. Cab's pulling away. Walking toward the store. She's admitting herself. Cover the place. We'll join you. OK. About to come here. They changed plans. Those gear grinders didn't go by railroad. They left by truck early this evening. Who talked? A loader heard him tell his wife. The American mouth is ideally big. Long distance? Give me York Platts 306. Thank you. Ziggy may already be on his way to the railroad trestle. She went in there. Come on. Yes? We'll try them every five minutes for the next 20 minutes. Thank you. You remain here those 20 minutes. If the call comes through, tell Ziggy I'm on my way to join them. That store's a blind. Their headquarters must be close by. Go through every place on the block and round up everybody that was in that cab late at night. Right. It'll be OK. Just a few more minutes. Boy, that thing is traveling. He's headed for trouble, sure. All clear, South of Grayport. All clear. Was it be all around when you said anything at all about the plant? What do you think I am, a dope? I'm smart enough not to talk about my work. Anyway, I was only in the place a minute. Did you talk about hurting your hand? I asked him. Did he tell you how he hurt it? He said he got caught between the wall of a truck and one of those things. What things? A gear grinder. That's it. Contact for each. Stop the trucks. Mike, Benny's driving one of those trucks. These jean men are a little late in their check back. Just a couple of minutes. Tanz is off that Speed Maniac. Keep me covered. Right. Don't turn around. Samson calling Freed. Samson calling Freed. Come in, Freed. Samson calling Freed. Come in, Freed. Samson calling Freed. Samson calling Freed. Come in, Freed. Ditch that car. Samson calling Freed. Come in, Freed. Check the truck schedule. They ought to be between Grayport and Gates Town. Operator, operator, Federal Bureau of Investigation Emergency. Give me the Gates Town police deposit. How much longer? Just a plunger hook up and we're ready. Keep going, it's Gryphonado. You were right, FBI. They were scouting ahead of the trucks. Take them under cover. Keep your motor running for an instant getaway. And when we blast, blast them too. Right. Gates Town police, Mr. Samson, patrolling north of Gates Town. No sign of trucks. This may be them. It means we'll enjoy a good look at your last show. Get out. But to bust up your show, Mr. Your president has said this wall will be won by industrial production. To speed this victory, wartime industry is now protected by every precaution your government's vigilance can affect. You, the citizenry of America, constitute the first line of industrial defense. Be on guard. Build a wall of silence around your business, your activities. And at all times, exercise the caution of thinking twice before talking once.