 The Linux show starring Nick Cotter, master detective, presented by ACME, America's great producer of fine quality paints. This is the story of a man known the world over as one of the most daring and resourceful characters in the history of detective fiction. A man whose name has become a symbol of the triumph of right injustice over the sinister forces of crime and lawlessness. A man recognized as one of the great masters of deduction. Nick Cotter, master detective. Today's exciting case, The Vanishing Lady. Another exciting chapter dramatized from the life story of Nick Cotter. In just a moment we'll hear how Nick Cotter traced a woman who vanished on the steps of the Mercy Maternity Hospital and found out what really happened to her unborn heir. But now no ordinary phrase is heard oftener than what's new. And this is the answer wise homemakers are giving these days, the three great Linux home brightness. 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The laboratory is dark except for the strange unearthly glow of a small mercury vapor lamp which casts an eerie light into the intent and watchful eyes of the great detective Nick Carter. There is silence. Someone moves in the shadow. You're right, Patsy. The ultraviolet ray shows that two different inks were used in the writing of this will. And the whole job's a forgery. That's all. Turn on the lights. Oh, praise be. Now I can go home and get a night's sleep for a change. Oh, no, not yet. Get the vaporizer ready. I want to test this sheet of paper for latent fingerprints. You want iodine? Or is it even petroxide? Petroxide. I want to take pictures. Okay. Iodine just isn't photogenic. Take it easy, Patsy. It's only the night bell. Somebody's at the front door, sir. I guess I'll never get over having my stomach do nip up if a phone or a doorbell rings suddenly in the middle of the night. Here. You take this stuff. I'll go down and see who it is. You are, Mr. Nick Carter. Yes. What seems to be the trouble? It's my wife. She's disappeared. We had a quarrel, and now she's gone. I wouldn't be too upset, Mr.... Ashford. Harold Ashford. But I am upset. Anyone would be. You see, she's going to have a baby. When? No, any minute. I mean, any hour. She's gone away to the hospital. That's when she disappeared, right on the steps of Mersey Hospital. Why weren't you with her at the time? I just told you we had a quarrel. Don't you see? Now look here, Mr. Ashford. Just a minute, Nick. I think we'd get more information if we gave Mr. Ashford the chance to collect himself. Here. Sit down in this easy chair. Thanks. You're very kind, Mrs. Carter. I guess you've been through this yourself. Oh, no. My name's Bowen. Mrs. Patsy Bowen. Oh, I'm sorry. I mean I apologize. That's perfectly all right, Mr. Ashford. You see, I was one of a large family, so I do know a little about these things. Mr. Carter, on the other hand... Now look here, Patsy. Mr. Ashford didn't come here, did he? Quiet, Nick. You may be tops when it comes to scientific detection, but how you ever passed an applied psychology? Now, Mr. Ashford, suppose you tell us all about it from the beginning. Yes. Yes, of course. Patsy, sometimes I have to... Hand it to you. Thanks. All right, Mr. Ashford. You and your wife were expecting a baby. What's her name, by the way? Nora. She was Nora Brent. Her two uncles owned the Brent tubing and appliances company. That she has money. Oh, no. Her father was a minister. He died before we met. Her uncle's never approved of me. You see, I'd been married before. We're divorced. Divorced. That's what her uncles didn't approve of. Besides, Nora's a good 10 years younger than I am. They say I married her on the rebound. You see, she had a childhood sweetheart, Jim Stanley, the boy she'd known all her life. She was missing with a carrier that went down in the Pacific. That was two years ago. Nora was pretty cut off about it. My first wife had just run away with another man. So you consoled each other? Well, maybe just at first, but it didn't take long for us to realize that we were made for each other. You've got to believe me, Mr. Carter, we loved each other. We were ideally happy. No arguments? No differences of opinion? No, never. That is, not until today. And what happened today? This morning, a letter came for Nora. It was addressed to Nora Brant, not Mrs. Ashford, mind you. And up in the corner of the envelope, the sender's name and address read, Chief Petty Officer Jim Stanley, Tappan Neyburn Hospital. Well, that's the man she was in love with, the man who was supposed to be dead. Now he's in a hospital only five miles down the bay. I take it she got excited when she saw the letter. I knew she would, Mr. Carter. And well, maybe it was jealousy. Maybe I was afraid of what might happen. You see, we were expecting the baby almost any time, so... So what? So I destroyed the letter. Very short-sighted. I realize that now, but I couldn't bear to think of losing her. I'd have done anything to prevent it. It would have been much better to have brought the whole thing out into the open. It's too late now. It's happened. Just what I was afraid of. We were sitting in my den after dinner tonight. I was so worried I just couldn't seem to take my eyes off her. Pretty soon I realized I was making her nervous, so I said I thought I'd go to bed and read. I just got into my pajamas when the phone rang. I let Nora answer it because her Uncle Timothy Brant generally called about that time to find out how Nora was feeling. Oh, so the uncles had forgiven her for marrying you. Oh, yes. Tim Brant's a swell guy. He came right around to see us as soon as Paul, the other Uncle, died five months ago. Paul never forgave us. He even cut Nora out of his will. Stubborn old customer, huh? And was it Uncle Tim on the telephone? No. I could hear Nora's voice, but not what she was saying. She was talking on the extension in the dining room. Well, pretty soon she opened the bedroom door. She was sort of quiet and quiet. Harold, what did you do with that letter? What about it, Nora? The one from Jim Stanley. I just talked to him. But, Nora, there wasn't any letter. You mean Jim's alive? Harold, you've never lied to me before. How could you? How could you? Nora, please, I can explain. I don't want any explanations. I don't want... Nora, Nora, darling, what's wrong? What's the matter? Lady, I've got to get to the hospital. Nora, please, darling, don't be frightened. Just as soon as I get dressed again, I'll... I'll take it. It's probably Uncle Tim. Hello. Oh, yes, Uncle Tim. No, something's happened. It's the baby. I'm going to the hospital right away. Please call Dr. Jenkins and tell him that I need him. It's time to come right away. Nora, for heaven's sakes, wait just a minute until I get back. No, Harold, I'm going for good. I don't ever want to see you again. Is she left without you? Yes. I heard the front door slam while I was putting on my shoes. I ran after her, but it was too late. Old Joe, that's the man who has the taxi on our corner, pulled away just as I ran out the front door. It was 20 minutes before I got another cab. I drove to Mercy Hospital as fast as I could make the driver go. It couldn't have taken us more than 12 minutes to get there, but it seemed like hours. What happened when you got to the hospital? I rushed up the steps into the reception room and demanded that the nurse ask the desk to take me to my wife. And they said they hadn't played eyes on her. Maybe she went somewhere else. That's what I thought. I thought maybe she'd been in an accident or maybe the baby had been born in the way. I thought all kinds of horrible things. Then I remembered Joe, the taxi driver, who owned the cab my wife had driven off in, so I drove back home again. Joe swears he drove her straight to Mercy Hospital, even watched her go up the steps and open the big front door. Very interesting. Betsy, I think we shall have to interview both Joe and the nurse at the desk. I was hoping you'd say that, Mr. Carter. I brought Joe along. His cab's waiting outside. He can drive us to the hospital. What can Joe tell Nick about the vanishing lady that he hasn't already told her husband Harold? And how could Nora open the big front door of the hospital and yet apparently never enter it? We'll see in just a moment. If you've used new Linux self-polishing wax, then you know firsthand how different, how perfect a quick drying wax can be. If not, it's high time you tried it because here at last is sparkling new beauty, new protection, new skid resistance for all your floors and linoleum. 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When you got to the hospital, did you help her up the steps? No, I helped her out of the cab and just as she opens the door, a man comes out from under the portico and she runs to him. He puts his arms around her. So I guess it was somebody she'd known and I drove off. Who was this man? What did he look like? Well, I couldn't rightly say it was two dogs. I see. Well, here you are. Here's the hospital. Oh, wait here, Joe. You may need to again. Yeah, sure. The reception desk is over here, Mr. Cotter. That's the nurse that told me and my wife, but look who's there talking to her. It's Uncle Tim. What's been going on here, I'd like to know. What if the baby did decide we'll ride ahead of time? Go to the hospital. It's good to take care of cases like that. But I tell you, Mr. Brent, we didn't turn you, Mr. Wade. Mrs. Ashforth never came here. I swear to you, she never walked in that door. Then why did I just get this wire saying you were full up? Mind if I have a look at that telegram, Mr. Brent? And who in blazes are you? This is Nick Carter, Uncle Tim. He's trying to find out what's happened to Nora. Well, you impunder, didn't you? Stick with Nora. You've done your duty as a father. We'd know where she was. Suppose you let me look at that telegram. See what I can make of it. Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Mercy Hospital full. Mrs. Ashforth taken elsewhere. Everything under control. No cause for anxiety. Signed, Mrs. Mary Brown. Who's Mrs. Brown? Never heard of her. Hugh Harrell? Name means absolutely nothing to me. Mary Brown. Nice indefinites on a name. Let's see. His telegram was handed in at the midtown station at 1045. That was only a few minutes after Nora left the house. Yes. Interesting. Why did you receive the telegram, Mr. Brent? About 10 minutes ago. I came right over here. I only lived three blocks away. Why did you receive it earlier? Should have had it three-quarters of an hour ago. I suppose I would have if I had been home, but I went to a late movie. Patrick. Yes, Nick. Suppose you go to the telegraph office as wire was sent from. You can get a line, a new handed it in. Then get hold of a nurse's registry. Just possible there may be a nurse by the name of Mary Brown. Okay. There is. Find out what hospital or senatorium she works out of. Report back to Mr. Ashforth's apartment. Right, Nick. I'm on my way. And you, Mr. Ashforth, I suggest you go home. I have a hunch you'll get a telegram yourself in the not too distant future. You think so? Maybe there's one there already. I'll see you later. Mr. Brandt, tell me. You really think your niece is still in love with this fellow, Jim Stanley? It's my personal opinion, Mr. Carter, that she found she didn't love her husband. She took that way out to sort of keep him at arm's length. Well, I guess I'm getting on home. Is there something more I can do for you? No, I think you've done everything we could expect, Mr. Brandt. There are still a few questions I'd like to ask the nurse at the reception desk. Good night. Good night. How, then, sister? Honest, Mr. Carter. Mrs. Ashforth didn't come here tonight. We don't turn away cases like hers ever. Mr. Ashforth's doctor. What's his name? Stevens. He takes care of all the Brent and the Ashforths. Did he show up at any time tonight? Oh, no, sir. He hasn't been here all either. And yet Nora told her uncle to get hold of him. There you are, dear. All right, see, there's a telephone down the hall. Suppose you ask the operator to connect me with the ambulatory ward at Tappan Base Hospital. And while I'm getting that call, you might phone Dr. Stevens' house and find out for me why he didn't get round to deliver the Ashforth baby. Oh, let him think it's a routine inquiry from the hospital. Will you do that for me? Oh, anything I can do for you is a pleasure, Mr. Carter. I'm sure. Thanks, sister. I'll take the call down here. Gee. Myrtle, connect the gentleman on the hall phone with the Tappan Base Hospital. Yeah, the Tappan Base Hospital, the ambulatory ward. Yes, Mr. Nick Carter, the detective. Hurry up, William Myrtle. Hello? Is this the doctor in charge of the ambulatory ward? That's right. Nick Carter speaking. I want to find out about a patient named Jim or James Stanley. Oh, yes, of course, Mr. Carter. What would you like to know? Where is he now? Well, I don't know. He made a telephone call earlier in the evening, and apparently it upset him very much. He said he had to get into town at once, so, well, we let him go. He didn't say where he was going? No, but I gather it was somewhere in town. If you think there's anything that I can do... No, no, no. That's quite all right. Thanks. I got back to Stephen's house. He's out on an emergency. He never got the call about Mrs. Ashford. Gee, it must have been a big emergency. Hey, where you going, Mr. Carter? Reventing another emergency, I hope. Thanks, Joe. Okay. Which is the Ashford apartment? Ground floor right just inside the front door. Thanks. Oh, yes, somebody there, all right. Lights lit, shades drawn. What's that? Two figures. A male. Great Jupiter. One of them's got a gun. Well, Nick, old boy, no time for a door. Yeah, he goes out of the window. Right up with your hands, both of you. But he shot at me. Maybe, but he didn't hit you. She undoubtedly would have if he meant to kill you. That's right. Well, I was just trying to keep him off me. He's got some crazy idea that I ran away with his wife. I take it your chief petty officer, Jim Stanley. That's right. I found out today this guy had married Nora. Well, she sounded sort of upset when I talked to her on the phone, so I thought I'd just drop around and size up the situation. If he wasn't treating her right, I was going to beat his ears in. Nora and I grew up together. We were like brother and sister. You see, Mr. Stanley, unfortunately, Mr. Ashforth's wife disappeared just after you talked to her. And somehow, he'd rather imagine she might have run away with you. So that's why he jumped me. Nobody's got it all wrong about me and Nora. Oh, we had a crush when we were in school, but I married a girl in Australia three years ago. I wrote Nora at the time, and she wrote back wishing me luck. Well, she never told me that. We women do strange things sometimes to keep our boyfriends guessing. Oh, Patsy, stay away from that broken window. Wait for me outside. Don't worry, I'm not the one who takes chances. Oh, look, Nick, I phoned out about the telegram, and there's no Mary Brown miss or misses in the nurse's registry. And the telegram was handed in by a man. In fact, I think he sent another. I ran into Miss Patsy coming round the corner. Oh, Miss Grant, hello. As I had a hunch you'd get another wire. Let's have a look. No, don't try to come in. Patsy will hand it up. Here you are, Nick. Thanks. Your grand needs and her mother doing beautifully at Clay Sanatorium. Come and bring the papa. Mrs. Ashforth keeps asking for him. And no signature. She wants me, Nora wants me. And the baby's here. I have a little girl. It's wonderful. Where's my hat? No, I haven't got time. Come on, everybody. We seem to have kept you rather busy tonight. Well, that's all right by me. Just shows me meter keeps ticking. I'm a father, father of a baby girl. Sheriff Harold, maybe you'll have better luck next time. After all, you and Nora are still young. And that's what you mean, Mr. Brent, about better luck next time. Anything unlucky about a baby girl? My brother, as you probably know, disinherited Nora. However, he did leave a cottage hold to his will. He couldn't better think of the Brent factory going out of the family. So he said that if Nora ever had a son, he would inherit my brother's share of the business. You see, my brother was a woman-hater at heart. So having a girl baby caused Harold a half a million dollars. I see. Well, here you are, Clay Sanitarium. Fancy looking place, ain't it? Fancy and expensive. Well, some of the very best babies get themselves born here. Old Dr. Jeremiah Clay is famous for that. He's brought more millionaires into the world than you can shake a stick at. The bad Mr. Ashford's daughter isn't a millionaire, too. Oh, money doesn't matter. It's my wife and daughter who really count now. Welcome, Mr. Brent, and congratulations to you, sir. You must be the father. Sorry, I haven't that honor. This is Mr. Ashford. Oh, yes, here's, of course. This way, Mr. Ashford, please. The new mother is so anxious to see you. This way, please. Such a curious case. Women are often most unreasonable at these times. Didn't want the family informed. Of course, the minute it was all over when she saw the baby, complete return to normalcy. One of the family at once. This is her room. Sorry, I'm afraid only the father can go in. Just at first, you know. Nora. Nora, darling. Oh, no. Darius, my darling. Oh, no, please, darling. It really wasn't so bad. I had a very easy time. It's a girl, you know. I'm sorry. But, Darius, I don't care what it is. Just as long as you love me. Really, of course I do. Funny when that showed her to me. That thing introduced her perfect strength. Darling, we'll get acquainted with her. Together. Well, come on, Nick, our job's finished. Let's go home. Oh, Dr. Clay. Yes. I think I'd like to have a look at Mrs. Ashforth's baby. Of course. I'll have a nurse show it to you. Just a moment, please. This is the first time I ever knew you to show an interest in the nursery. I'm playing a hunch, Betsy. Oh? A hunch that may split this case wide open. Mr. Carter, this is where we keep the babies. I'm sorry you can't go in, but I've asked the other nurse to bring the baby to the window. Our motion tour. You're having many babies here, haven't you? No, this is a small private hospital, you see. Oh, there she is. She's a fine, healthy-looking little girl, isn't she? So that's supposed to be the Ashforth baby. What do you mean, supposed? There's her name on a tag. I put it there myself. That baby's at least three days old. Moreover, of course, after a user delivery. Betsy, you heard Mrs. Ashforth say she had a very easy time. Nick, you mean there's been a mistake? Mistake nothing. There's been a criminal substitution. Nurse, how much did Mr. Timothy Brent pay you to substitute a girl for a boy baby? How dare you? I'll call Dr. Clay and have you arrested for slandering. Oh, no, you won't. Of course, if you do, I'll insist that the police take a blood test of that baby. And if that test proves the baby's blood does not belong to Mr. and Mrs. Ashforth's blood group, you will end up in behind bars for a long, long stretch. Oh, no. No, don't. I'll tell you everything. I did it for Timothy Brent. He said his niece would lose her mind if she had a boy baby. He said the... You lie. I had nothing to do with it. You did, Mr. Brent. You brought her here. You arranged for the whole thing. Why, you double-crossing little... Easy, easy. You'll wake the patients. Now, the nurse, where's the real Ashforth baby, the boy? In the first crib by the door, Mr. Carter. You're sure there's no mistake this time? Yes, that's the Ashforth baby. Very well. That's it. I think we'll introduce him to his mother. We'll talk to you later, nurse, and to you, Mr. Brent. I wouldn't have done it, but Mr. Brent said... I had nothing to do with this, Mr. Brent. Later. All right, Patsy. Go get the baby. Don't you want to carry him in, Nick? Oh, good heavens know. I'm afraid I might break him. Ah, here we are. All right. Come on now. Come on, Patsy. Come on. Come on. Mrs. Ashforth seems there's been a slight mix-up. The baby they brought you before belonged to someone else. So we... Well, we thought you might like to see yours. It's a boy. A boy? Bring him in, Patsy. Okay. Young man, this is your mother. Give him to me, please. Here you are. Look at him screw his face up. He's so... so homely and so darling. I'd know he belonged to us anywhere. In just a moment, Nick will tell you the clues that enabled him to solve the case of the vanishing lady. But now, there's always added warmth of hospitality in a home that's beautifully cared for. See to it that your home extends that sort of hospitality. It's easy when you have the three great Linux home brightness to help you. For example, notice how your furniture takes on new loveliness after you've used Linux cream polish. Because it cleans as it polishes. One quick easy application of Linux cream polish erases finger marks, removes dust and old polish deposits, helps conceal scratches, all at the same time. So save half the time, half the fuss of furniture upkeep. Depend on Linux cream polish, the modern shortcut to furniture protection. Get it at your dealers now. Linux cream polish, which saves one whole step in your cleaning day routine. You'll find all three great Linux home brightness, Linux self-polishing wax, Linux cream polish, and Linux clear gloss varnish at your nearest hardware, paint or department store. Your headquarters also for ChemTone, the modern wall finish that covers in one coat, dries in one hour. Now let's hear from Nick Carter himself. Nick, why didn't you have that old reprobate Uncle Tim Brandt arrested? Yes, Nick. How come you let him go free? When the DA's office goes over his books in order to straighten out the kid's inheritance, they'll do plenty to him without my help. Oh, of course. So that's why he had to change the boy for a girl. He's been up to some shenanigans with his brother's fortune. Obviously. Nick, when did you first suspect the uncle? Right away. Oh, just like that, eh? That couldn't have been anybody else. A man who met Noor on the hospital steps had to be responsible for her disappearance. Only two men knew she was on her way to the hospital, her husband and her uncle. That's right. Her husband was left at the post, never caught up with her. Therefore, it had to be the uncle. Well, Nick, that was quite a story. Now, what can you tell us about next week's case? Well, let's see. Next week I think I'll tell you about the pompous chemical magnet who rang our doorbell one evening, clad in pajamas, overcoat and bare feet. And the pajama legs were partly burned off. In fact, that was the third night in a row that the old boy had been thrown out of a hotel. Hold it, Patsy. Hold it. Let's not give the whole plot away. That comes next week. Well, what do you call that story, Nick? I call it the strange case of the involuntary fire bug. Nick Carter, master detective, is featured in Street and Smith magazines. Long Clark is starred as Nick with Helen Chote as Patsy. The original music is played by Lou White. The programs are written by Edith Meiser and any resemblance therein to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The entire production is under the direction of Jock McGregor. Nick Carter, master detective, is presented at this time and over these same stations each week by the three great Linux home brightners. Linux clear glass varnish, Linux cream polish and Linux self-polishing wax. Created by ACME, America's great producer of ACME fine quality paints. This is Ken Powell speaking for the thousands of Linux dealers all over America and saying so long until next week. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.