 From Hollywood, it's time now for... Johnny Dollar. My name's Steele, Mr. Dollar, claims division, Eastern Trust Insurance Company. Steele? You don't know me, Mr. Dollar. People at Universal Adjustment suggested I contact you. Thought you might be interested in helping me pay off a claim. Okay, tell me about it, Mr. Steele. One of our policy holders passed away last month and we can't seem to locate his beneficiary. She just doesn't seem to be around. Maybe she doesn't want the money. Everybody wants money, Mr. Dollar, especially insurance money. Right there in an hour. Night and every weekday night, Bob Bailey and the transcribed adventures 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 the Eastern Trust Insurance Company claims division, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Broderick matter. Expense account item one, 25 cents, bus fare. My apartment to the Eastern Trust Insurance Building in the office of Robert Steele. He was a big sandy-haired man in a tweed suit. We shook hands, looked each other over, and then got down to business. Now, Mr. Dollar, the deceased policy holder was named John Smith. John Adam Smith, age 67, died in City Hospital Charity Ward 20 seconds last month. That's certificate. Mm-hmm, pneumonia. And other things. What other things? The intern who signed that certificate said Smith was pretty rundown. Evidences of malnutrition, possible TB history. Not noted here, Mr. Steele. Doesn't make any difference. Smith was able to stand the exam for the policies when they were issued in 1943. You got him there? Yes. 1,500 total. Beneficiary, Lorraine Broderick. Is she the one you can't locate? She's the one. Any other possible heirs, family or anyone? No, Smith was all alone. No problems there. Any other material that might help to find Lorraine Broderick? The stuff here, it might help you. I don't know. I just don't know. You sound discouraged, Mr. Steele. 1,500 isn't a lot of money and the chances of Lorraine Broderick won't even remember John Adam Smith when you do find her. But I hope you do. I'm explaining this badly. Look here. You see? Mm-hmm. And here. And here. It's the same all through the book. Smith was absolutely religious about his payments. Never Mr. One, never let it slide one day. Now I bet I've got the record of 20,000 policy buyers but none of them reads like that. I'm impressed, Mr. Steele. Can you tell me why Smith died in a charity ward if he was this conscientious? He didn't have any money or friends or home. He made his living selling papers. We wouldn't have known about his death except for the fact that the coroner's office called us. What can you tell me about his beneficiary? Lorraine Broderick was just someone who talked to him one day while he was selling papers. She was 11 years old at the time. She... What? Yes. The agent who sold the policies used to buy his papers from the old boy. One day Smith stopped him and said he wanted to do something nice for a nice little girl named Lorraine Broderick. So he began taking out the policies. The agent have any more background on that part of it? No. Lorraine Broderick met Smith that one afternoon and helped him sell his newspapers. Smith never saw her again after that. 1943, she must be 23 or so now. Well, I hope she grew up to be the kind of person he thought she was then. Well, hardly any of us fill out the promise we have at 11 years, Mr. Steele. Then that isn't what I mean. I mean, if he met her that one day when she was a little girl and he made this gesture to her, then it was tough for him to make those payments all those years. I hope she deserves it. Money doesn't mean anything, but that kind of endorsement from somebody, even an old bird who sells papers on a corner is worth more than all the money in the world. Does that sound foolish, Mr. Donner? Not a bit, Mr. Steele. Not a bit. Expense account item two, two dollars, cab fare to Lorraine Broderick's last known address. 1485 Cushing Street, a broken down apartment house that had probably never seen better days or better neighbors. The owner and manager of the building recalled that Paul and Mary Broderick, parents of Lorraine, had been killed in an automobile accident in 1948. The manager did not know what had become of Lorraine. She had moved out of the apartment two days after the funeral, no forwarding address. Expense account item three, four bits, more cab fare. This time seven blocks away to Pulaski Street and a dingy cluster of red brick buildings that were yielding slowly to time and where. I arrived at three on the dock. I don't think high schools ever change much. At least this one was no different than the one I'd been in way back when. The persistent smell of pencil sharpeners made me think of discarded lunchboxes. Sister Mary Regina. Good afternoon, Sister. My name's Johnny Dollar. I wonder if I could talk to you a moment. Dollar? Are you sure you shouldn't be speaking to Sister Armadea in the grade school? I don't believe we have any students named Dollar. No, Sister. I don't have any children in school here. I've been hired by Eastern Trust Insurance Company to locate a beneficiary on one of their insurance policies. I thought perhaps you might help me. Well, I'll try, Mr. Dollar. I'm here because it was the nearest high school to the girls at Dress. Her name is Lorraine Broderick. Lorraine Broderick. Yes. The last trace I have of her was in 1948. She was about 17 then, possibly still in school, possibly this school. Lorraine... Sound familiar, Sister? Oh, there are so many, so many, Mr. Dollar. Yeah, I just met about 3,000 of them out in the hall. Yes, I know. 1948. Lorraine Brady... Broderick. Lorraine Mary Broderick. Yes, Mr. Dollar, your guess was very good. She was here in St. Charles from 1945 to 48, yes. I wonder if there's an address listed there, home address? Um, 1120 Seaton Place. Oh, my, that's quite far from here. Parents, deceased, guardian... Oh! Anything wrong, Sister? I remember Lorraine now, Mr. Dollar. Her parents were killed in an automobile accident in her senior year. Yes, and she went to live with her uncle, James Broderick, at this Seaton address. Oh, yes, yes, I remember that lovely girl. She was in Sister Hildegard's class. That ties up with what I know about her so far, Sister. Oh, I remember her so clearly. I can even see her face. Perhaps that was it. Her face. Like an angel's gentle and fresh and wonderful. The man who left her the insurance money must have thought the same as you do, Sister. He saw her one day when she was 11. Oh, I have an annual from that year, Mr. Dollar. Would you like to see Lorraine? Yes. Yes, here we are. That's Lorraine Broderick. Beautiful, isn't she? Sister Mary Regina pointed to a group picture on the pages. It was labeled Girl Sedality. Lorraine Broderick was in the first role, one of 30 or 40 self-conscious little girls wearing identical self-conscious expressions. Her hair appeared to be deep brown or black. Her features soft and slightly cherubic. Undeniably, Lorraine Broderick had been a beautiful young girl. In all probability, she was a beautiful young woman. Wherever she was. By five o'clock, I'd been to her uncle's address on Seaton Place. There I learned that Uncle James Broderick had died of a heart attack in 1950. The people at the address reported that Lorraine had lived with him up until the time of his death. She had worked in a dentist's office, they told me. As far as they knew, she still worked there. I made a phone call. Yes, sir? Johnny Dollar, Mr. Steele. Oh, how are you going on Lorraine Broderick? I might need some help. Have you got a man? Uh, sure. I've got her traced up to 1950, Steele. She worked for a dentist here in town. Probably got her job in his office right out of high school. That meant she pretty well had to get it through a professional agency. That sounds reasonable. I got a man to check the agencies in town to specialize in that. Let me know. The next day, I was back in St. Charles High School, making up a list of names and addresses belonging to students who had been in Lorraine Broderick's graduation class. Out of the ten names I chose at random, I was able to locate only two. Both girls, both married. Both remembered Lorraine Broderick. Neither of them had seen her since graduation. Neither of them was able to furnish any helpful information. Expense account item 5, 10 cents, one phone call. Steele again. You want to take this down, dollar? Yeah, okay. David Pollard. That's Dr. David Pollard. 2950 Tremolane. Lorraine Broderick went to work for him as a receptionist in 1949. Got it? Got it. What's his office address? Suite 210, Majestic Building. I got there about a quarter of six. There was no receptionist on duty. As a matter of fact, no reception desk. A stern-looking nurse in a rumble-white uniform knew nothing of a Lorraine Broderick who might have worked for Dr. Dr. was working with a patient. If I cared to wait for Dr. Yes, yes, what is it? My name's Dollar. I'm with the Eastern Trust Insurance Company. I don't need any today, Mr. Dollar. I'm not looking for a sale, Dr. What? That's right. I'm trying to find a friend of yours. Who are you talking about? Lorraine Broderick. Oh. How is Lorraine these days? I don't know, Dr. I'd like to meet her and find out. When you're looking in the wrong place, I can't help you. She hasn't been around here for a couple of years. Oh, wait. Well, what now? Well, you've got an awful big chip on your shoulder, Dr. You won't even let me explain my business. I'm not interested in your business. I can tell you mine's been going on since 8 o'clock this morning and I'm pretty tired. You finished now? Well, yes. Can I take you downstairs and buy you a drink? Sorry. What is it you want to know? Where I can get in touch with her? I don't know. She quit without notice a couple of years ago. Just didn't come back. Too bad, too. Do you have any idea where she might have gone? Just what is this for? To pay her some money we owe her. We can't locate her anywhere. Well, I'm sorry, but neither can I. Are you still trying? Not anymore. All I know is she just left one day about two years ago. She had a little apartment over on the west side. The manager told me she'd pulled out bag and baggage and I haven't heard from her since. Were you on good terms with her, doctor? Doctor? I'll take the drink. Don't misunderstand me, doll. She was a real sweet girl. But there was something about her. I don't know. I hope you find her. Or maybe I don't. What are you talking about? She had plans of her own, plans she never told me about. Look, I was in practice three years to work for me, fresh out of high school. With all of it, she still made me feel like a little boy in knee pants. That smile of hers, you could take two ways. And the look that went with it. I'm sure she's met a lot of men since she walked out on me. And I'll bet all of them have found out the same thing. What's that? That they've been taken. You mean money? Oh, it wasn't the watch or the necklace or the loans every now and then. It was being taken worse. You know, being used and knowing you're being used, I don't quite get it. And I'll make it clear that sweet, fresh, beautiful little girl was out to do everything and everybody for all she could get. She's rotten, you know, just plain rotten. There'll be another intriguing episode of The Broderick Matter tomorrow. Tomorrow? The expense goes way up. Yeah. It costs money to prove how wrong one man can be. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey is transcribed in Hollywood, written by John Dawson. It is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Be sure to join us tomorrow night, same time and station for the next exciting episode of Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Roy Rowan speaking.