 From Hollywood, it's time now for Edmund O'Brien as... Johnny Dollar. Bob Ratten, Johnny. Oh, yeah, Bob. What's this? You checking to see if I'm stalling on your case? Oh, nothing like that, Johnny. Well, and the way I am. I trace one of the beneficiaries to Chicago and I've been waiting all morning for a wire on it. We want you to drop the case. What? You capitulating? This is a bad week. When? Just a matter of hours ago. You mean all of them? Yeah, all this morning. Sure, Bob. I'll get a plane this evening. Edmund O'Brien and another adventure of the man were the action-packed expense account America's Fabulous Freelance Insurance Investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to the Great Eastern Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the Porta Cole matter. Expense account item won $180, AFM incidentals between Hartford and San Francisco, California. At 11, after I'd found a hotel room and breakfast, I cabed to police headquarters where I was shown to robbery detail in the office of a harried Lieutenant Clark. I'm not making excuses. They put us off balance, that's all. We got the call from the place on Market Street at 9.15 yesterday morning, just a few minutes after they'd opened. While we were down there, the call came in from the Mission District. Same loan company, different branch. Then, not 40 minutes later, the other company was here. Quite an operation. They hit the fourth one at 5 minutes of 11. I tell you, we had more officers on the streets than there were civilians. There hasn't been as much confusion since the Quaken Fire of 1906. And look here. This is your list of witnesses? Yeah, you can see only about 35 out of the 53 names or employees of these loan companies. They're the ones we're sure saw this bunch. What do they give you? You know how it goes. You have to make a sort of composite of the statements. Seems this bunch should come in all armed. Do it, take care of any customers that happen to be in the waiting room. Kick them to the floor face down. Rest and cover the office for us and knock over the cashier. What kind of disguises? Some say none. Others think they saw a make-up. Stage make-up. You know, lines and the stuff to change the shape of the nose and so on. I'll go along with that. That'd be some kind of disguise. What I got on the rest of their physical descriptions doesn't exactly hurt, but it doesn't help either. Not even ages? What about voices? One did the talking and a high voice. Falsetto, not a woman. Pretty well-planned job, wasn't it? Four in the space of two hours for $47,000? I don't say it was well-planned. No prints, nobody spotted any cars, but they must have used at least two, probably with a driver for each. What are the rest of these witnesses? Some of them are crank, some of them claim they saw the bunch come out of the buildings but didn't think anything about it until the news began to break on the robberies and so on. You know witnesses. Beginning to wish they'd sent another boy from Hartford. I wish I'd stayed in homicide for the killing of at least got a stiff to work from. Yes? No, I don't want to talk to them. Tell them I'm grilling a hot suspect in Daly City. What a comedian. Who's that? The manager of that outfit you're interested in. What's no if I'm doing anything? A port-a-call loan company. That's a great name. You know what their motto is? Yeah, I saw it. Tell me, what self-respecting grifter could pass up an invitation like that? San Francisco is a city of bridges with few other exits. All of these have been covered in less than an hour after the first robbery report had been phoned in. To double-check, the adjoining counties had been alerted and were swarming with men. San Francisco itself was being combed for known criminals. That left little for me to do but hang around robbery detail and wait for developments. Lieutenant Clark had been on the phone for half the afternoon and I was in his office at five when it rang again. Yes? Well, how are you, Bruce? Well, I could use something. What is it? How would that fit? Oh, good, I do. Well, thanks a lot, Bruce. Well, it'll be a change of scenery anyway. Something up? That was missing persons. A woman reported her husband missing since sometime yesterday. It's a cab driver. I never gave it a thought. Why is it you always connect private cars to jobs like this? It's natural to pass up cabs. They're usually a close check up on me. Well, we'll see. She's on her way down. I'd like to have you see her, too. Yeah, sure. Lieutenant Clark, I've gotten her report and told her you wanted to talk to her. Oh, good. Thanks, Bruce. What do you want to talk to me for? She hasn't done nothing wrong, has she? Not that we know of, Mrs. Guy. You wouldn't do nothing wrong. You never has. Who are you? I'm not a policeman if that's what you mean, Mrs. Guy. What are you doing here? I don't understand this. Well, I'm interested in another case that Lieutenant Clark is working on. Do you think something happened to your husband? That he had an accident in his cab? Something like that? He didn't have an accident. His company would have known. What company's that? Perilous. It's a new one. Didn't they know he was missing? How would they know? Doesn't he check his cab in with the company? No, don't work that way. He owes his old cab. Just an agreement about money and gas and a license. And then I don't understand it because Joe never talks about business. Why are you asking me these questions? Don't you read the papers, Mrs. Guy? No, I don't have time with three kids in a room to take care of. What if I did read them? Does it say they found Joe dead someplace? Nothing like that, Mrs. Guy. I'm sorry I mentioned it. What do they say I got a right to know? I'll buy a paper for the streetcar on the way home anyway. There were four robberies yesterday, big ones. None of the witnesses saw the cars the men got away in. Maybe they wouldn't notice a taxi. Are you saying you think Joe was in on it? I don't necessarily know. Police have to ask questions like that, Mrs. Guy. I wouldn't do nothing wrong like that. Even if he did, I'd know about it. And you think I'd come down here like this? Of course not. Doesn't your husband ever stay away from home this long? No, no, without calling me from someplace. That's why I got to worry and they never called it all yesterday. What time do you leave yesterday morning? I told the other cop that. Why don't you tell us? It was right before eight. I think Mrs. Guy can go now, don't you, Mr. Dollar? I think she should. Hey, Mrs. Guy, we'll find your husband. He's got to come back. I don't know how he'll manage with the kids if he don't. We'll find him. You know the way out, don't you? Yeah, this way. That's right. Then down the corridor. What do you think? I don't know. That's why I had to try the robberies out on her. She could have been here to put the finger on her husband who double crossed her. She seemed to be sure he hadn't had an accident. Yeah, that's right. There must be a reason all those witnesses didn't see a private car. That figures too. I've got to tailor her right now. A phone call to the Peerless Cab Company got the number and description of Joe Guy's cab and a police tracer who was put out on that. I think the Harriet Lieutenant themed a little too graciously when I asked permission to check the other Peerless drivers myself. But I did, 75 of them. Only one hadn't been heard from in the past 28 or 9 hours. Paul Landini with an address on Turk Street, an apartment house whose manager boarded some of the tenants, among them Landini. Who knows about Paul ever? He wasn't here for the meal last night, but what is that? He live alone here? Yes. Take it you mean he was often away from home at dinner time? He had personality. He often goes someplace else to eat. You know if he came home at all last night? My tenants live their own lives. I don't run a girl's school here. Would you show me his apartment? Why should I? I told you it might be very important. You didn't tell me what you mean. He might even be dead. Oh, not Paul. Why do you want to look in his apartment? I don't expect to find him there, but there's a chance of finding something else. What? I don't know. I told you this was police business. You want to cooperate or don't you? Oh, sure I do. I'll take you up. I didn't find even a trace of a lead in Landini's apartment. Lieutenant Clark, when I talked to him, had the same report to make on his tale of Mrs. Joe Gaia. By then it was time to have a late dinner and go to bed, which is what I did. The next morning the two missing drivers and their calves still had not been found. The police report on Mrs. Gaia hadn't authored anything. The $47,000 in stolen funds could have been that many miles away from San Francisco. Through the morning and early afternoon a dozen general suspects were questioned and released. And then, sometime after three, the body of a man was found floating in a slew in the upper reaches of the bay. He fitted the description of Joe Gaia and an hour or so later his wife arrived to make identification. Mrs. Gaia, could you swear that this body is that of your husband Joseph Gaia? No. No, it's not Joe. If it's Gaia, he fits your description of your husband. How care it's not Joe. You sure you aren't holding anything back from us? Yeah, I'm sure it's not Joe. I'd know my own husband, wouldn't I? Yes, you would, Mrs. Gaia. My husband was dead and this was him. I'd tell you, wouldn't I? I hope so. I think you would. Why wouldn't I? It's not Joe. I don't know who it is. I never saw him in my whole life and I can prove it. I swear I never saw this man in my whole life. We will return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar in just a moment. There's one married couple you can always depend on for fun on Saturday evenings and to invite them over is as easy as staying tuned to CBS. They're Lucille Ball and that man she calls my favorite husband. And a nice thing about them is you don't have to get involved in the strange predicaments they get into. All you have to do is sit back and laugh at the results. How's for asking them in this evening? Lucille Ball and my favorite husband will be wedding on most of these same CBS stations. Now, with our star Edmund O'Brien, we return you to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. This Gaia was released not because we believed in her lack of identification, but because we thought there were better ways to approach her than hard police questioning. I arrived at her small frame house not long after she had. What do you want? I thought I'd better come and see you. You can't come in. I want to help you if I can. Should I need any help from you? I don't need any. Go away. Wait a minute. Get your foot out. You got no right to do this. Now, wait a minute. There are other ways to identify that body and you'll be in trouble, won't you? I don't care it wasn't Joe. Open the door, Mrs. Gaia. You can't come in. Why did you get so upset if it wasn't your husband? You cried. I couldn't help it. I never saw a dead body before. I want the pieces again. What if it had been Joe? You know the police think you're lying. I am not. Why should I? Joe hasn't done nothing wrong when I haven't eaten. Now, go away and leave me alone. I got ironing to do. This is Mr. Dollar, the man I mentioned from the insurance company. Oh, yes. Well, how do you do that? This is Mr. Prince, the cashier at the protocol office in the mission. No. Oh, it's nice to know you, Mr. Prince. Thank you. He looked at that body and he seems to be fairly sure that it's the one who did the talking during the robbery at his place. I'm sure it is. I hope you're right. Oh, of course it. He did look different with that makeup, his nose, and his cheekbones. Now, but you're still sure? Yes, I am. I've been with the protocol for almost 10 years. And as I was telling Lieutenant Clark, when you've been in the loan business, as long as that, you learn to study people. I suppose you were. You meet so many. While they're talking about the loan, they want you to sort of unconsciously study them to try and find out how much truth they're telling. But, oh, I remember that man. The makeup, I know. Yes. What in particular do you remember? Oh, a lot of things. He walked right up to me, you know. I remember his eyes and his ears, and I remember his hands. They were manicured. And he wore a ring and his third finger left. This polish on the nails, all right. He didn't have a ring and his body, but there's the mark of one and its third finger left. I wish there were more witnesses like you. Well, thank you. Thanks very much for coming down, Mr. Prick. Well, that's quite all right. And I hope we don't have to trouble you again. Well, there is no trouble at all, Lieutenant. I'll be glad to be of service to you. Good day, Mr. Prick. Good day, Mr. Prick. It looks like you've got that much anyway, darling. We've run quite a few of the loan company people passed the body, and almost half thought he was the one the folk said of. Well, that's something, but dead men don't answer many questions. I've noticed that. I understand Mrs. Geyer didn't answer many either. Well, how did you? Oh. Well, you still got men out, huh? Yeah, I haven't been able to spare any relief, so that pair I assigned yesterday has been on the plant day and night. Mm-hmm. So when somebody finally showed up, they thought they'd broken the case. They didn't know you. She wouldn't let me in and she didn't change her story. We'll check it. We've got a man from the cab company coming down. Lieutenant. Lieutenant, didn't she say that she had a rumor yesterday? Remember, she asked if she'd read the paper and she said she... Yeah, by that time, I'd asked a few thousand questions. She did. She said she didn't have time to read the paper with three kids and a rumor to take care of. I think I remember that. Well, that's something we should check. Your men say that outside of me, nobody has shown up at her house, huh? Even staying out last night, you'd think this rumor would come back sometime for clothes or for something. We'll try it. Bruce, send two plane closemen out to the guyer home on 4th Avenue and talk to the neighbors on each side. I need somebody who knows the guyer's rumor by sight. I want them to look at a body. I guess she's home. Which one is it? One with a porch light. Sure, turning into a nice knife. Yeah. At a clock? Huh? Oh, Richard. What are you doing out here, sir? I'm gonna talk to the woman. About some new relief? I'll have a relief out here in an hour. Nine o'clock. That's a promise. I'm sorry about the rain. Yes. I'm afraid you'll have to let us in this time, Mrs. Guyer. What are you talking about? This is a warrant. We're here legally. I want you to tell me the truth. When did you last see the man who rooms here? I don't know. I don't remember. That isn't the truth you saw in this afternoon. You saw him at the morgue and he didn't tell us who he was. Why not? Don't you wake up, my kids. Answer my questions, Mrs. Guyer. I was afraid to tell you. Why were you afraid? Because with Joe gone like this, I thought something happened. I know I should have told you, but I couldn't. He's my husband. What were you afraid it happened? Joe and me argued sometimes about Mr. Grace. Grace? What's his first name? I thought you knew about him. The neighbors identified his body, but they couldn't remember his name. His name was Ted Grace. Your husband was jealous of Grace, Mrs. Guyer? Well, we argued sometimes. He was a salesman. In some weeks, he'd have a lot of money, and I told Joe he ought to sell his cabin to be a salesman, too. He got the wrong idea and thought I was falling for Mr. Grace. I wasn't. I never make him believe me all the way. Why did he let Grace live here if he felt that way? He needed the money. Do you think your husband killed Grace? I don't know. I'm afraid to tell you, I knew Mr. Grace preferred he did. That's what happened. He didn't kill him out of jealousy. Grace was mixed up in those robberies I told you about. Do you remember? I got the newspapers. That's what we're here to clear up. We want you to tell us everything you know about Grace. I never talked to him much. How do you know he was mixed up in it? You'll have to take our word for that. Come on, you must know something about him. How long has he been living here? About six months. You know where he came from? Never said. Must have had some friends. Didn't anybody come to see him? No. You have a telephone and anybody ever phoned him? Yeah, a man used to call him. The same one all the time? Yes. Must have given his name sometimes. No, he didn't. Did he ever call while Ted Grace was gone? Yeah, once in a while. What then? Didn't Grace leave a number or someplace where he could be reached? Usually a place called a furlong over on Fulton. Why didn't you tell us that? Why do we have to drag these things out of here? What else are you holding back from us? Nothing. I just can't think. I just can't think of anything, but where's Joe and why don't he come back? Wasn't there anything different the morning he left? No, nothing. Was Grace here at that time? He left, too. About the same time? Right after. Joe's mixed up in those robberies. It's my fault because I talk so much about money. We can hate me for that, but what about the kids? They can't leave them for me to take care of alone, can he? You better take a look at Grace's room, don't you think, Lieutenant? Which one is it, Mrs. Geyer? Ted Grace's effects told a lot more about him than his landlady had. A drawer full of racing forms made it appear that the man who phoned it probably than his bookie. The colors of Ted Grace's ties and shirts, an array of chief men's toiletries, painted a pretty good picture of the character he'd been. But the contents of the waste paper basket made him out the mastermind of the whole series of robberies. Shredded paper. We didn't try to assemble all the pieces there, but we fished through enough to learn they'd been applications for loans from the victim companies. Made out while he cased the officers. Look at the blank side. Yeah, the floor plan's drawn up. Hey, look here, an 80 Tony. The positions and movements were marked down, too. Here's another name, Mark. That's not wasting any more time here. I'll take them down to headquarters, get somebody to pace them up. I guess we've covered the place all right. Pretty obvious he expected to come back here, though. Yeah. Now, I have a feeling the rest of them might still be in the city. He, too. I think that might have been the plan. We're going now. Yeah, we're going. Unless you have something more to tell us. I don't know any more to tell y'all. It's a big mess. I don't understand any of it. I don't know what it's all about. No, I'm sorry it happened. I hope it'll turn out all right for you. And I just, uh... Stop by with a messy toy. I didn't want to come in with a woman there. Her husband's dead. So's the other driver Landini. Where were they found? In their cabin in the vacant garage out toward the beach. Whose honor? Lieutenant McMillan. All right, I'll contact him. And don't forget our reliefs. I won't. Well, there goes Guy Landini. Elimination for more profit? That or cutting the links between the rest of the bunch and the only tangible things that can. The cabs. That could be. Hey, if you want to drop me at that bar, she mentioned the furlong. I'll see what I can pick up. Sure, if you want to. I'll stay in my office right here for you. I just planted myself out here. So I'm looking for a guy I think you'll know. Ted Grace. Has he been in the night? Ted Grace. I understand he's in here quite a bit. Why do I find that ripe? It's all right. Yeah, it's fine. You see, I'm not the regular bartender. I don't know your friend by name, anyway. That's all right. Thanks. Hey, what about a couple of guys Ted knows then? One named Mark and the other's Tony's something. No, I guess I can't help you. I usually work a place down on Gary. I don't know this one very well. Well, it's not important. I look around, maybe come back. See you later. Yeah. Good night. Stop moving. But I managed to walk out as if I hadn't heard, turned down the sidewalk for a count of five, and then back to the window. Tony was forgetting his customers. He was heading towards the rear of the room. When he got there, he disappeared into a phone booth. I've heard that a lot of cases are broken through a stroke of luck, but at very seldom happens to me. My own phone call from a gas station brought Lieutenant Clark and an extra squad car to the furlong bar in less than 20 minutes. The place was clear to people, and Tony stood alone behind the bar, giving away his guilt by his expression, and the apron he kept twisting in his hand. Leave your apron alone. What is all this? What did you phone right after I left? Home, to say I'd be late. That's not true. The call was traced. You're crazy. How could you trace it? When I was calling home, why should you care if it was traced or not? Now, who did you call? I can make a phone call if I wanted, can I? That isn't the question. Well, that makes you so nervous. You guys, busting in like this, what do you expect? To find a guy named Tony. What's your last name, Tony? Cullard. That's what I came here for, too, Tony. When we found him, all we were going to do was ask him to tell us where he was the other morning while those loan company officers were being knocked over. And if he couldn't, we were going to see him booked for three killings, Ted Grace and Joe Gaia and Paul Landini. I don't know what you're talking about. You're bluffing. But you're bluffing the wrong guy. I'm glad to hear that. We wouldn't want to see an innocent man booked for something he didn't do. So let's clear it up. How do we start proving where you were between nine and about 11 the other morning? Come on. Where were you? I was home asleep. Then a lot of people must hate you. Bull. The people who said they saw you leave your place about eight o'clock. What's the use? I don't know if you're bluffing or not. We aren't. In Grace's room, we found the floor plans of all those officers with the names of all of you. He talked to Joe Gaia's wife. She knew about you and Mark. You just made a confession. Do you want to take the whole rap yourself? No. If I'd known there was going to be any killing, I wouldn't have got mixed up in it. When I was, I knew the whole thing would blow up. Who did the killing? There were three of them. Harvey Shoot, Vic Lincoln, and Neil White. I'm not sure which one did. Who were they? I don't know. They got out of prison some place in the east about six months ago. We met them and got running around with them. We'd been playing the horses and not doing so well. And they said if we got a big stake, they knew how to make a killing. That's the way it started. Who's we, Tony? My friends, Mark Rose and Leo Barrett. Ted Grace. Is that all? I'm giving you my friends. That's enough. What about Joe Gaia? No. No, they just called him to get his cab views instead of cars. He wasn't there. That was Ted Grace's idea. I guess so. The smart guy. You were all pretty smart. And what about Landini? He was called too. I don't know what happened. They went crazy after we got the money. They were like different people that I didn't know. They could have killed all of us and crossed them. Are they on narcotics? I don't know. I don't know much about that. They could have been. Where are they? I might as well tell you, I guess. The whole thing is blown wide open. The staying in the Metropolitan Auto Court out on Bayshore Highland. Which cabin? The second one on the right. Where's the money? We split it before we separated. We could have my share. I wish you would buy back the last few days. Come on, Tony. I'll send you down to the station. More squad cars have been added by the time we got started. No trouble was expected or had picking up the other two San Francisco men, Mark Rose and Leo Barrett. But at the Metropolitan Auto Court, where the three ex-convicts were staying, trouble was expected. Well, I think that's about the best we can do. There are two exits. We've got both of them covered. The other people who might be staying here? They'll be all right, even if there's firing. As long as we can keep these comedians inside, or at least just trying to get out. That's your case. They'll have to try to do it anyway. I'll go wake them up. This gale hasn't already. I don't be a hero. Lieutenant Clark! Lieutenant! The shot to Lieutenant! Cover me in the door! Watch the window! Get down, Sergeant! When it was finished, one of them was alive, the other two in the cabin were ripped to pieces. But that and the recovery of the money, hardly paid for the loss of Lieutenant Clark, who died before he reached the hospital. Spence account item two, $75.30, miscellaneous in San Francisco. Item three, same as item one, transportation back to Hartford. Spence account total, $450.60. Remarks? It probably isn't important, but there's an odd commentary to this. The gunfight and Lieutenant Clark's death made only a column on page two of the morning paper. The storm he died in grabbed the page one headlines. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar stars Edmond O'Brien in the title role and is written by Gil Dowd with music by Wilbur Hatch. Edmond O'Brien's latest picture is a Paramount Pictures production, Warpath. Featured in tonight's cast were Howard McNeer, Ed Begley, I Everback, Jim Nussar, Virginia Gregg, and Janet Scott. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, is produced and directed by Jaime Delvalle. This is Dick Cutting, join us next week at the same time when Edmond O'Brien returns as Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. You can sing it again this evening on CBS, and if Dan Seymour calls you, maybe you can sing it out the name of the fabulous phantom, and win $5,000 in cold hard cash, plus $10,000 more in fine prizes. Worth it? You bet it is. For sing it again also brings you a whole hour of grand musical fun as you listen to Alan Dale, and then Bob Howard, the Riddlers and Ray Blocks Orchestra. Sing it again comes to you every Saturday evening on most of these same CBS stations. Sing it again this evening, won't you? And now, stay tuned for Von Monroe's caravan, which follows immediately on most of these same CBS stations. This is CBS where everyone laughs at Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy every Sunday night. The Columbia Broadcasting System.