 The Adventures of Frank Race, starring Paul Dubov. The war changed many things. The face of the earth and the people on it. Before the war, Frank Race worked as an attorney, but he traded his law books for the cloak and dagger of the OSS. And when it was over, his former life was over too. Adventure had become his business. The Adventures of Frank Race. Now we join Frank Race for the Adventure of the Brooklyn Accents. This is what you might call a damp night. The dampness being such that it persisted in sluicing down your neck and surging over your shoe tops. And as we sloshed along a deserted street, I caught a little mole for Mark Donovan. Oh, brother, just slap me with a bottle of champagne and call me to Normandy. Cold, Mark? That noise you hear ain't thunderproof. It's my chopper's hammering together. This is the sunny south, huh? Look, are you sure we're still in a state of charge? I figured we walked enough to be just outside Montreal. I'm beginning to think I'm in a state of confusion. I keep getting the feeling that we've turned away from those docks. Have you heard the sir from the last few minutes? I don't hear nothing but a ringing in my ears. Probably the first sign in the morning. All right, you win. We'll go back to that cafe we passed in the last block. Well, now you talk. And if the place has good coffee, I'll forget all a part in the morning. Lord Order's spot, resided over by an ancient counterman who greeted us with a lactooth grin. At a table, a couple of men and a girl sat munching hamburgers in an almost grim silence. But the place looked clean and the old man looked clean, so Mark and I slid onto stools at the counter. Yeah, what'd it be, gents? We got hamburgers and coffee. And he asked us what it would be. All right, Pop, sew them up. Make it heavy on a coffee, huh? My name's Pete. Not Pop. It ain't so old. I guess look this way from having to listen to guys like you. Look, Pop, I'm just a quiet guy whose don't wish harm to nobody. But make sure the coffee is hot, will you? Yeah, how you want it? Black or ruin? Both of them straight. You know this town pretty well, Pete? Yeah, they could blacken me hand. There ain't no southern man from Jay-Z City. No! Don't happen to know a man by the name of Beading, do you? Eddie Beading? Yeah, let me see. Little guy, Pat, where's... No, I put his name something else. Does he live around here? As a boat, a schooner. And that's another thing, to get to the docks, do we turn right at the door or left? The docks? Well, I see now all the docks. He calls the place like the back of his hand, he says. He means the back of his neck. Yeah, you turn right. About six blocks. You sure? Why's he deep? Took a walk down that way a couple of Sundays ago. What was that name again? Beading. Edward Beading. Sounds familiar, right? It wouldn't be tall, husky, if it owns one of them... ...coats, dogs, would it? Look, Pop, we're just looking for the guy. We don't know a thing about his dogs. So you're just looking for the guy, huh? Why? This was no native voice either. This was New York. New York the hard way. Manhattan via the alleys, the pool halls, the second-rate night spots. He had a heavy beard line and he stacked up as being husky. He stood eyeing us with the curiosity of a weasel inspecting a nest full of eggs. You heard me. I asked you why you were looking for Eddie Beading. You make it sound illegal. What do I have to do to get an answer? Extract it? Look, what do you think you got here, pal? A couple of pigeons? If you want to talk to us, keep it gentle. Or waddle back to your table. Both your boys feel that way? The words, though rather inelegant, express my reaction precisely. Jigger. Yeah, Ruxie? Come here. Jigger's approach was methodical in practice. The casual hand inserted itself inside the lapels of the jacket that draped a squat frame. His eyes, as he glided up to us, looked disinterested. Almost blazed. The stare of the professional gunman. Treble, Ruxie? I don't know. These personalities come looking for Eddie Beading and they don't want to say why. I wouldn't call that friendly, would you, Jigger? No. I wouldn't call it friendly at all. We don't mind telling you why we're looking for Beading. No. Who are you, guys? My name is Race. This is Mark Donovan. Who are you? I'm Ruxie Clark. And not a southern accent in the crowd. Never mind the assides. What's the pitch on Eddie Beading? I'm down here for the Fidelity Life Insurance Company. Edward Beading is beneficiary to a $20,000 policy that's now payable, and the company is anxious to make a settlement. Who'd leave Eddie Beading 20,000 fish? The deceased, I understand, was an uncle of his. Oh, yeah? Jigger, what do you think about this? To me, it sounds like a bowl of spaghetti. Yeah, that's the way I figured a big company working hard to ladle out 20 Gs. It don't mesh. It might seem strange, but with insurance outfits, it's done all the time. They consider it to be part of their contract. That makes quite a line, Race, but I ain't buying it. Hey, now I remember that fella. Owns a boat, don't he? Yeah, that's right, Pop. Owns a sailboat. Wanted him to go to sea sailboat. Yeah, yeah, I know him now. Knows where I have to. They live three, four blocks from here. Greenhouse with yellow shutters. Let's see now. Shut up. Listen, I'll talk about water. I said shut up. You said it, but I ain't paying no attention. It's a free country, ain't it? Pick a less warbler, Jigger. Sure. Hey, hey, no, no, no, no. Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute. You ain't got a coffee. Get what's left of his teeth, Jigger. No. Then maybe he won't be so lippy. Give me a pop. No, no, no, you don't know. Don't make me come after you. It'll be worse. Cut it, Jigger. Just let's drop the whole thing. Get out of my way. There's no need to bother the old boy. What are you asking for? Sampler? Who cares? Try this on your... Bridgeway! Leading with your right, Jigger. I'm surprised at you. It'll always be the same, Jigger, even if you come in with an axe. Jigger, can you hear me? Your brother is Eastiff. Pretty handy with that stuff, ain't you, Royce? I haven't met your lady friend, Clark, but I'd like her to know I'm sorry for the disturbance. Don't be sorry, Ray. I always admire artistry. And that was sheer artistry. Wasn't it, Roxie? Susan, stay out of this. Roxie, darling, I've been completely quiet for at least 20 minutes, and that isn't like me at all. You're going to be around for a while, Ray. Susan, get out of the car. Careful, Pat. You're bad temper showing. Rayce, I'm Susan Drake. I'm staying at the Jackson Hotel. It's been a bit boring the last day or so. Why don't you call me? Oh, Rayce. Yes, Clark? This insurance deal, is it, on the level? Definitely. So you have to keep looking for beating. Is that it? That's it. Why? Think I can't find it? No, no, I wasn't thinking that. I was thinking of the mess of trouble you're going to find with them. It's the law. Come over here. What are you doing out here this time and that? What do you have, a 7 o'clock curfew? Never mind the wisecrack, so I'll just take you straight on in. On what charge? Oh, we can work that out. Vagra's, if for one thing. No visible means of support. We've means of support, plenty of it. If I say you ain't, you ain't. So quit arguing. I'm sorry I said a word. I should know better. That's sensible. Now, what are you doing around here? I told him and showed credentials, which made it all right. He told us he was Jean Dinsey, chief of police, and we spent an hour leaning against his car listening to a confidential report on how he ran the town. It ended up with his driving us to the beating house. There was an old-fashioned pull bell and the door was answered by a girl of about 15. She looked startled. Yes, sir? Hello. Is Mr. Beating in? Not right now, but my mother's here, though. It's two men, mother. They want to see daddy. All right, I'll talk to them. She seemed to be about 30. A handsome woman, even with faded makeup and a worried look about her eyes. What is it you all want? We're looking for Edward Beating. Oh. He's my husband, but he ain't here now. I understand he has a boat. A schooner that he operates for hire. That's right. But it's already on the charter. Would you tell me where I could find it? It's called the Jenny D. And it's at Callaghan's Landing. Go down Power Street as far as the docks and then turn left. Oh, and if you're going there now, you could do me a favor. Surely. Well, if you see my husband, tell him to come home. He's usually here five minutes, almost nine. I ain't like him. Well, it's got me bothered. Still pretty cloudy with no sign of a moon. Eight to five says we get more rain. That's a happy thought. Look, Lice, what's with this guy, I do catch up with him. Now that we know he's here, can't we just let it go with that? There could be dozens of Edward Beatings. I have to identify this fellow as the right one. Eh, can't we do it tomorrow? I'd much rather be at the Hotel Plain Canasta. Wait a second, Mark. What's the matter? Another car coming up. I've got a feeling we're the ones it's interested in. Oh, great. I'm also alongside a hundred yards of board fence. If you're on right, it really got us picked up. What's that play? We move apart. If anything breaks, blast the left headlight. I'll take the right. Okay. Hiya, Race. You remember me? It's Jigger, Race. The guy you slogged. Yeah. And now I'm going to play you a little tune. All right, Mark! Oh, the alien or the fence. You got the pale? Who's got the tent? What a sense. Oh, no. Apparently you're still in the mood for music. Oh, there you are. Listen, I'm in a mood to offer up night. That's the closest squawk I've had since I stole a cab in front of the Chicago Express. That goes for you. I agree, but I think we win one of them. Yeah. Oh, brother, I heard a yell back then. It was no cry of delight. Imagine a guy coming after us with a chatterbox just because you're cool with him a little. I wonder. Maybe it wasn't Jigger's idea at all. Right now I wouldn't put a slot machine slug on nothing. Oh, what are we doing next? Still keep looking for that squawk? Might be crowding our luck a little. Let's go back to the hotel and get a nice rest. Race, race. Come on, wake up. Wake up. There's something funny going on. What time is it? Come on, get with us. It's about five. Five o'clock in the morning and you want a chat? Go back to sleep. Look, look, Chum, I'm not kidding. There's a mob or something outside. Can't you hear it? Yes. Yes, I do hear it. Sure you hear it. It's just... That's it. Just barge in. We always receive visitors at this hour. Get up and get dressed, Grace. We have to get you out of here. What for? We've got a lynch mob outside. What? So that's what it is, huh? What does a lynch mob have to do with us? It seems like a lot of people know you boys have been looking for bleeding. Now he's been found murdered, they aim to string you up for it. Murdered? That's moving a little fast, isn't it? Yeah, we better move faster. So I'm going to have to place you under arrest. We'll return to the adventures of Frank Race in just about one minute. Go back to the adventures of Frank Race. Here was a venture with all the qualities of a nightmare. One of those things where nothing makes sense. We'd been in town only 48 hours and now we were threatened with lynching. I tried to figure the angles as I got dressed, but nothing jelled. Now you fellas have got to cooperate on this. I can't guarantee to get you the safety. Well, uh, well, let's be your first lynching chief. It will and they ain't good for men in my position. Well, they ain't good for guys in our position either. Come election time and one side won't vote for you because you tried to stop it and the other side won't vote for you. Because you failed to stop it. We understand. But there's something peculiar about this business, chief. Yeah, I'll say it, Race. Just take a listen out here, Race. Most of the guys which are throwing a yelling have got Brooklyn accents. Are you sure? Are you kidding? Listen to that Bronx cheers we're getting. You think we were the giants at Abbots Field? There's your answer, chief. It's not a real lynching party at all. It's a frame-up. What do you mean? No man by the name of Roxy Clark. I certainly do. He charters Eddie Beaton's boat. Know what he charters it for? Gambling. Brings down parties to them wealth in New Yorkers and they go out for three or four days at a time. Ain't none of my affairs as long as they do it on the high seas. Well, for some reason, Roxy Clark thinks I'm in his way. That's the reason for this phony lynching bee. Where did you get the tip that brought you here? I'm a woman. And her name? When a woman gives that information like that over a phone, you ain't gonna get her name. She won no southerner. How do you plan to get us out of here? I ain't figured it yet, but I... Why don't you let us go by ourselves? Why don't I... Why, you'd never make it. We'll have a better chance than with you trying to buck that mob. Well, you might be right. Okay, it's a deal. But if you don't make it, don't blame me. If we don't make it, Sean, we probably won't be around to blame you. This guy, Clark, must have quite a mob with him. It's a big crowd. Start yelling about something and you can always draw people who have nothing else to do. Look, Tony, what are we looking for in his cello window? A door. And here it is. Take your hat and coat off. Hat? I don't get it. If we go out of here carrying something... Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. We can use these empty cottons. Good enough. Let's go. Better take a look first. Doesn't seem to be anyone around. Hey, you guys, hold it. Didn't see this light at all. He must have been leaning against the side of the building. Oh, great. And he's got that shotgun right on us. Who are you guys? Uh, we all work for the hotels. Yeah. I'm thinking different. Put Anna's boxes and start moving around the front. All right. You're the boss. Come on, Mark. Let's go. Has Miss Drake come in yet? We did. Miss Drake, this is Frank Race. I'm making that call you suggested. Yes, I want to express my appreciation for what you did for me. Someone told the chief of police that I was in danger of being lynched. I got the impression it might have been you. Why don't you run over here and we could have a drink while we chat? I'd better see you somewhere else. I got out of the Jackson Hotel this morning with some difficulty. Where are you now? Bar called the Flamingo Club. It took more than a few minutes. But when she came into the Flamingo Club, I was willing to admit that the weight had been worthwhile. What are you drinking? Scotch and soda. That is a fetching outfit. You really like it? You're a very fancy dish, baby. Oh, what crepes is that? It's darling. What do I have here? A cynic? How about the drink? Martini Manhattan? Make it a Scotch and soda. Two of them, bartender. Mind if I tell you something about yourself, Miss Drake? Maybe not. You're the wealthy Susan Drake of New York. You've been amusing yourself with the excitement that surrounds Roxy Clark. So? You know what he does down here, don't you? Is that why you brought me to this place? Just to answer questions? If it was, I've already changed my mind. Of course I know why Roxy's down here. What's the story I'm beating? Why was he killed? Oh, comrades. What do you think I am, a police blotter? If you think you could grow fond of me, give. Because I'm in need of it, baby. I'm in need of it. Well, the only thing I can tell you about beating is that he didn't like it when he found out what Roxy was doing with his boat. Beating didn't know about the gambling setup when Roxy first chartered the schooner? No. And when he did find out, he wanted no part of it. You see, I happened to hear the blow-up on that. Beating was going to cancel the charter. Maybe that's the answer. Maybe that's the answer to everything. About an hour later, I dropped in at the beating house. Mrs. Beating, swollen-eyed from crying, was baking pies. Just like a woman, ain't it? But I have to do something to... They smell wonderful. I bet you're a fine cook. Well, I guess I'm pretty good. Maybe because I love it so much. I told her about the insurance, and a noticeable lift came to the depression that had gripped her. She got out family documents for me, birth certificates, and a marriage license issued to her and Edward Beating in 1938. But what about the money now that he's dead? Will it still come to us? Certainly. It belonged to your husband. Oh, excuse me, won't you? Hello? What? Well, yes. He's right here. It's for you. For me? Thanks. Yes? I had a hunch you'd be there. Guess who I'm with? Why don't you tell me? Roxy Clark? He claims he didn't have nothing to do with that machine gunna deal. How about the lynching frame of... He claims he did that just to scare us out of town. Wait a second. I'll let you talk with him. Hello, race. That's on the level about the gunning. That was Jigga Mentone's party. Give my regards to Jigga. I want to talk to you, race. This thing is getting sticky. No sense of me being hooked by it. Are you protesting your innocence, Roxy? I want to talk to you. I'm going back to the Jackson right now. Can you meet me there? All right. I'll see you there. But he didn't see me, even though I saw him. Because by the time I got to his suite at the Jackson Hotel, someone else had already been there. Someone who had put two bullets into Roxy Clark's body. I couldn't figure it. Well, it was actually none of my affair. I had come to find the right beneficiary to a $20,000 life insurance policy. And this I had accomplished. Even though beating was dead, the money would go to his family. So, five days later, Mark and I were at the local station, waiting to board a northbound train with Susan Drake, along as a fellow traveler. We also ran into other people we knew, Chief of Police, Denzie, and Mrs. Beating and her daughter, Mary. All set, race? All set. I guess this is goodbye. Not yet. I'm going to ride a ways with him, in case anything pops up like that lynching beam. We can take care of ourselves, Chief. Just the same. I'm coming along. How about you, Mary, because though you're traveling, too. Yes, sir. Mother and I are going to Daddy's sister in North Carolina until we... Yeah, we understand, honey. What do you got in the basket? Some of your mother's well cooking? That's right. A bedding includes apple pie? Not this time. Mother burned the pie she was baking the other day. Well, yes, it goes. Grace, what are you doing prowling around in the middle of the night? I've been keeping a death watch, Mark. A death watch? I think I've got the key to those killings. I'm going to have to wait for a play to be made. Uh, Chum, there's something else, too. What? We have another acquaintance on this train. Jig a Menton. Yeah. Look, what kind of pitch you're making, Mike? I don't know yet, but... I wouldn't close that door, Mrs. Beating. Mr. Race. Do you mind if we go in? Mind? Of course I mind. Sorry, we're going in anyway. You better stay with us. Yeah, you better... All right, look at her coils. She's been slugged. Yes, and the next move would have been a carrier to the rear platform and toss her off the train, wouldn't it, Mrs. Beating? My own daughter? You're insane. Not your daughter, Mrs. Beating, your stepdaughter. Mary is 15 years old, and you weren't married to her father until 1938. Figure it for yourself. You get out of here! What was the motive? Your husband's will, leaving everything to the girl? You fought with your husband, didn't you? Because he objected to Roxy Clark using his schooners a gambling ship because he was going to revoke the charter. You didn't like that, did you, Mrs. Beating? He was letting too much easy money get away. So you murdered your husband. You're just talking. You don't know that. I know you killed Roxy Clark. You killed him because he didn't like being implicated and was going to talk. I know you killed him because you burned your pies that day. A good cook won't burn pies, Mrs. Beating, not unless she leaves them suddenly to kill a man, perhaps. Get some water for the girl, Mark. She should have plenty to say when she comes to. You ain't getting water for nobody. Move back before this thing in my hand starts talking. It's about time you got here. Sorry, Mark, I missed on this one. So you thought you'd cut in, did you, Jigger? What are we going to do, Jigger? We can't shoot him right here. No, but I can do the same to them as you did to the kid. I owe this guy something anyway. Too slow again, Jigger. Yeah, well, see if that's right. Well, this time Jigger's jig is up. Don't try to get away, lady. Where did you find that pistol, Mark? Must belong to the lady. It was in his open bag right here. All I had to do was reach for it. You're ironic if it turns out to be the gun that killed Beating and Roxy Clark, won't it? Yeah. I'll get the water for the girl from this sink. All right. Hey, you know something, Rice. This has been a funny deal. We've started out to find a guy in a boat. We never got neary to one of them. Rice, what's going on? Give me a hand with this girl, will you, baby? Mmm, you smell good. Rice, never mind the perfume. What's been happening? Something rather unpleasant, baby. But you know, before we reach New York, this trip may turn out to be most enjoyable. Ventures of Frank Rice starring Paul Dubov with Tony Barrett as Mark Donovan comes to you from Hollywood. Others heard in tonight's cast were Frank Lovejoy, Wilms Herbert, Lillian Byatt, Bill Johnstone, and Michael Ann Barrett. This series is written and directed by Buckley Angel and Joel Murkock. The music is composed and played by Ivan Dittmar. Be sure to be with us again this time next week for another dramatic chapter in The Adventures of Frank Rice. Michael Roy speaking. This is a Bruce L's production.