 Mr. District Attorney, starring David Bryan. Mr. District Attorney, champion of the people, defender of truth, guardian of our fundamental rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And it shall be my duty as district attorney, not only to prosecute to the limit of the law all persons accused of crimes perpetrated within this county, but to defend with equal vigor the rights and privileges of all its citizens. This is David Bryan. In a moment we'll bring you another case from the files of Mr. District Attorney, but first a word from our sponsor. And now here is our star, David Bryan as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. A district attorney and a watchmaker have one thing in common. They both know the value of accurate time. The ability to fix the exact time a crime has been committed can lead to the conviction of a guilty man or the saving of an innocent one. The time element became very important in this case. It started late on a Saturday night in a roadside diner near a railroad crossing on the south side of town. Hi, Charlie. Oh, it's you. That's a happy greeting for your favorite brother-in-law. Stop clowning, Jack. You're not my favorite anything and you know it. How's the fight going? Rough. Could go either way. I got pins in front by one round. What round is this? Seven. Diana sends you down for something? No, it's something I want to see you about, Charlie. Mind if I turn this down a little? What is this, Jack? Another touch? Because if it is, you're wasting your time. It's Saturday night. I got a date. I need five bucks. Try working. That might be a way to get it. Why don't you ask your sister? I don't kid me, Charlie. You know why. She wouldn't give it to me. You told her not to. I told her to use her own judgment, Jack. Turning my own sister against me. She happens to be my wife. And I'd like to see her get herself a decent dress instead of shelling out fives and tens to you. No. All right then. Maybe I'll just help myself from the register. I wouldn't touch that if I were you, Jack. You just stay on that stool and count your hamburger patties, brother-in-law. Jack. Don't get any crazier than you are. Put that gun back under the counter. Put it back and get out of here or I'll call a cops. Do I get the door, don't I? No. Too bad. Why you? That's the way you're wanted at Cheap Stage. Good morning, Miss Millum. Very nice until I saw the Monday morning newspapers on my desk. Why didn't you send me a wire when this diner murder was discovered? I just thought you needed the rest. That's all. And yesterday was Sunday. I don't like to give a murder a 24-hour start, Miss Millum. I'm sorry, Mr. Garrett. It won't happen again. Besides, Cheap, he didn't get a 24-hour start. He didn't even get 24 minutes. Carl Carr saw him running out of the diner and nailed him on the spot. That's why I didn't feel you had to be bothered right away, Mr. Garrett. I'm sorry if I spoke sharply, Miss Millum. And Rick and Clay could have been getting his reports on the suspect. We don't have much here, just these two cards. But here's a batch of stuff from the other states. Walter Bailey, age 40, no visible means. Most of these are arrests for vagrancy. Yeah. Bailey's a hobo. Loaded into town on a 1045 freight from the west Saturday night. Arrested for robbery and murder a half hour later. Where is he now? Interrogation room. Had him brought over, Cheap. I thought you might want to talk to him. I do. When they get a complete make-up on him, Miss Millum, take it up to my office, will you? Yes, sir. Oh, cheer up. I did need the rest. Fishing yesterday was a lot of fun. Thanks. Yes, sir. Bailey had the murder weapon on him when the prowl team caught him? No. No, he didn't, Cheap. He left it on the floor of the diner when he ran out. It wasn't his gun to begin with. Huh? It belonged to the diner. The owner said his night man kept it under the counter. It was the night man who was killed, wasn't it? Yeah, yeah. Charlie Porter. Bailey's in here. We can handle this Kerrigan. We'd outside until it's time to take him back. Walter Bailey? That's right. My name's Paul Garrett. I'm the district attorney. Cheers. Don't get fresh, Buster. What'd you expect, singing and dancing? What are you trying to hang on me? What reason would I have for killing the guy I never saw before in my whole life? It seems to be the reason, Bailey. The cash register and the diner had been emptied. Not by me. They didn't have a nickel on me when the cops caught me. Now, they chased you halfway across the railroad yard before they did catch you. You got plenty of time to throw the money away. Get the whole thing in a nice big frame, ain't you? Bailey, it isn't the money so much. The big thing is that you ran. Why? For me to draw you a picture, I know my story doesn't sound good, but... it's true. I rode a hot shot freight into the yards at 10.45. Fifteen minutes later, I walked into a diner, found a guy murdered. He got scared. I ran. It's all there is to it. I'm going to be a pigeon for you, mister. I can't even hire a lawyer. The court will provide you with counsel without charge, Bailey. It's your constitutional right. Constitutional right? You mean a bum's got rights? You've been rusted on vagrancy charges in every state from Maine to Sonny Kerl. You expect me to think I've got a chance? I'll let you answer that question for yourself, Bailey. Meaning what? Meaning that you have a certain positive knowledge that I don't have. I don't know whether or not you kill that man in the diner. But you do know. Come on, honey. Take him back, Hurricane. Pretty weak story, wasn't it, Chief? Except for one point. What? If Bailey did kill Charlie Porter, why didn't he keep the gun when he ran? If he'd already killed one man, he could have gotten into a gunfight with the police, too. He had nothing to lose by more killing, and he might have gotten away. Yeah. You punched the down button, Chief. Aren't you going back up the office? No, down to the garage. We're going to take a ride out and have a look at that diner. Basement, please. Anything that touched inside? Nope. Except for removing the body. Let me open the padlock. What's that white circle on the floor? That's where we found the gun. The marks at the end of the counter show where Porter's feet were sticking out when the body was found. And the rest of his body behind the counter? The lab figures Charlie Porter was sitting on that stool, slid off when the slugs hit him. There were a couple of broken dishes there. He must have grabbed at the bottom part of the counter when he fell. How about ballistics? Shots were fired at a distance of about eight feet by the register there. The owner says the gun was kept right here, under the counter behind the radio. Behind the radio? There's no light under the counter. Not when the set's on. Let me show you. No back plate on the set. The tubes lighted up under there. I see. Is the radio playing when the police found the body? Yeah. What are you thinking, Chief? Why would Porter be sitting here without moving while somebody came around behind the counter to the cash register? Unless it happened to be somebody he knew. Bailey might have been behind the counter working out a meal. That's probably it. What's this? What? A pencil and a scrap of writing paper on the counter. No, that was there. Something Porter was writing, I guess. Two rows of small squares numbered one to ten at the top. The letter C in front of one row and the letter P in the other. Numbers in all the squares up to six. He must have been figuring something out. Yes, but what? Certainly not a bill. Who knows? Some kind of puzzle maybe. Well, whatever it was, he must have been working at it when he was killed. Let's... What are you people doing in here? District Attainee's office and don't come in. Oh, I'm sorry. I knew the joint was closed and I saw a car outside and you guys nosing around in here. And you got kind of a long nose yourself. Wait out there. Seen enough, Chief? Yes. Road crossing. I see you guys. I figure you might be breaking in. Is that your crossing right over there about 150 feet? Breaking in. Is that your crossing right over there about 150 feet? Yeah, a little shack. Are you on duty Saturday night? Sure. I work a 12-hour shift, noon to midnight. Doing what? Open and closing the crossing gate whenever a train comes. You ever eat here in the diner? Nah, just coffee. Come over every night to get hot coffee, and my timer's set, so. You do it Saturday night? Yeah. What time? 10th, 20, same as always. How long to stay? Just long enough to get the timer's filled. Had to get back to the crossing to lower the gate for that freight that pulls into the yards at 10.45. She passes a shack at 10.43. Only one comes in on Saturday night. That's the train Bailey loaded on, Chief. I know. Did you hear a shot Saturday night? Between the time you left here to go back to your shack and say 11 o'clock? No. You're certain of that? Not only one train going through it must have been a quiet night. What? But I didn't hear anything. Except when a cop's got her to chase that guy. That hobo. What caliber was the murder weapon, Harrington? 45. That makes a lot of noise. She'd have heard the report. Unless it was covered by another noise. Like what? A freight train going through at that crossing. But Bailey was on that train. If your fingering is right, he couldn't have killed Porter. You've got to find out exactly what time Porter was killed. Connor couldn't measure it that close. I know. I'd better be getting back to the crossing. Okay, if I go. Yes. Oh, just a minute. Yeah. Those gloves you're wearing. You wear them all the time? Everybody around the railroad wears gloves, mister, even off duty. That's all. Thank you. Why'd you ask him that for, chief? Because up until now, Bailey's story was hard to believe when only his prints and porters were on the gun. What makes it easier to believe now? You heard what the gentleman said, Harrington. All railroad men wear gloves. This is David Bryan. Before we continue with Mr. District Attorney in the case of the hungry hobo, here's an important message I'd like you to hear. And now back to David Bryan, starring as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. The night counterman at a diner had been murdered, and all the available evidence pointed to a hobo. To convict or acquit him, hinged upon establishing the exact time of death. For two days, Harrington and I tried to fight the clock with no results. Then I went to call on the dead man's widow. Yeah. Is this the Porter's apartment? Yeah. If you want to call this dump an apartment, this is it. Well, I'd like to see Mrs. Porter. She ain't back from the funeral yet. Hey, you must be the lawyer I called. Come in. I'm afraid there must be some mistake. No, no, it's no mistake. I left a name when I called. You are a lawyer, ain't you? Yes, I'm a lawyer. Good, good. Sit down. There's a comfortable chair over there. When do you expect Mrs. Porter back? I don't know, soon. She's all busted up, you know, about her husband. That's not surprising. Yeah, with a man it's different. You know, you ball once and you're over it. Are you a friend of the family or a relative? I'm Jack Hausman. Nina Porter's my sister. Charlie was my brother-in-law. Didn't your secretary tell you about my call? Not very much, I'm afraid. Oh, well, you're here now. That's what counts. Let's get out of business. Things are going to be pretty tough on my sister. You know what I mean? She ain't going to like it when she finds out I sent for you, but it's all for own good. There must be some kind of a suit you can file against the guy that owns the diner or somebody. Now, Charlie got killed working there, didn't he? It ought to be worth something. You want to sue somebody for your brother-in-law's murder? Why not? Look, I know the tramp killed him. He ain't got beans. But a Greek guy owns the diner. He's loaded. Why shouldn't he pay off? You realize your sister's husband has been murdered? Is money all you can think about? He was my brother-in-law, wasn't he? We got to write you something. What's more important to you? Profiting by his death or finding out who killed him? The cops got the guy that killed him. I'm not sure of that. And I'm getting less sure every minute. You ain't the lawyer I sent for. I don't think any lawyer would come near you with a 10-foot pole. Hey, what kind of a game are you playing? You asked me if I was an attorney. I am. I'm the district attorney. The DA? I was just trying to help my sister. Any law against that? No. You're supposed to be prosecuting a killer, not coming around bothering the family in this grief. What grief? You can't wait to get the... What's the matter here, Jack? Mrs. Porter? Yes. I'm Paul Garrett, the district attorney. Yeah, he comes waltzing in here trying to tell me that tramp didn't kill Charlie after all. That's not true. I don't know whether he did or not. That's what I'm trying to find out. What do you want to see me about? You don't have to help him protect some bum. Jack, what do you want to know, Mr. Garrett? Did your husband have any friends who stopped at the diner regularly? Men from the railroad? All the men at the yards were Charlie's friends. A lot of them came to the funeral. They said a big grief. In the diner, do you know if your husband ever let any one of them come behind the counter, get their own food maybe, anything like that? I don't know. Jack, my Jack used to work in the yards. Did your brother-in-law permit that? How should I know? I haven't worked in the yards in six months. Where do you work now? I've been out of a job. There are law against that too? You didn't try to work. What do you mean I didn't try? You know what I mean. He left everything to Charlie and me. Live in office, borrowing... You're my sister. I was his wife. You're old enough to take care of yourself, Jack. You're a grown man. Get out. Get your things and get out! Oh, before you go, one question. Where were you when your brother-in-law was killed? I ought to clip you one for asking me that, but I won't. I'll tell you where I was. I was with my girlfriend from 8 o'clock until midnight. Her name's Helen Campbell and she lives at 27 Denton Street. Any other questions? Good. Well, before I go, shall I ask one of the neighbors to come in and stay with you? No, I'd rather be alone. Tomorrow would have been our second anniversary. Charlie used to take Saturday nights off before we had Jack to take care of. He used to take me to the arena for the fights. He loved them, so I never cared much for him, but I never told him. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be a good wife to him. I tried to be. I'm sure you were a wonderful wife, Mrs. Porter. Please leave me alone. Of course. Narrington, what are you doing here? Waiting for you. I had a squad of 20 men, including the two who arrested Bailey, come in the railroad yards for that money from the cash register. They'd be through it away. We didn't find it. I don't think you ever had it. You learned something up there? A couple of things. The main one is that Charlie Porter was an ardent fight fan. How does that help? I'll tell you later after you get a rundown on somebody for me. Oh, who? A woman named Helen Campbell. Check the neighborhood around 27 Death Street. Get back to the office with the report as soon as you can. Right. Lab men just brought in the radio from the diner, Mr. Garrett. Good. Did you get the dial setting? Yes, it was set to the station the Daily Bulletin on. Call the bulletin then. See if they carried a fight broadcast and find out exactly what time it started. I'll call for my office. Oh, sorry, Miss Miller. I didn't see you coming out. It's all right, Mr. Garrett's been waiting for you. Come in, Narrington. What about the Campbell woman? Anything? Nothing pleasant. Broke, out of work. Seems to be a chronic condition. Reputation isn't too good. That doesn't surprise me. Judging by the company she keeps, she seems to have any money lately. Yeah? All of a sudden. She was behind the rent and paid it up Monday morning. Yesterday. Paid off her candy store for newspapers and the smoke she's been coughing. And a couple of hours ago, she paid $5 on a counter at the Italian grocery store down the block from her apartment when the owner done her for part of the bill she'd been running. I wonder where she got it. I haven't got a fair idea. Oh, where? From somebody who knew Charlie Porter had a gun into the counter in the diner. His brother-in-law hit him. His brother-in-law. This is the information you wanted, Mr. Garrett. The station carried a fight broadcast Saturday night. Just the main event between Kid Pins and Tiger Corey. What's that for? That slip of paper numbered from 1 to 10 that we found on the counter of the diner. Yeah? Hey! Porter must have been listening to the fight and scouring it. That's what the P and C stood for. Pins and Corey, 10 rounds. What time did the fight start? We're not at 10.15 sharp. 10 rounds? Yeah, sir. Porter scored six rounds. That's three minutes around with one-minute rest periods in between. 24 minutes. That brings us up to 10.39 p.m. He didn't score the seventh, so he was probably killed during it or just after it. At four minutes more, 10.43. Just as the train was passing the crossing into the yards. With Bailey on it. I knew that was why that crossing guard didn't hear the shot. You find out the crossing guard's name? Yeah. Tom Wells. You gotta find out a bill on you? Yeah, yeah, I should have hit. Write the name Tom Wells on the margin. What's the gimmick? We're going to try and out Smart Jack Hausman's girl. I'm going to tell her that one of the bills stolen from the diner was marked. That a customer who had been in just before the murder remembered changing a bill he'd written his name on. Some people do that, you know, to see if they ever get the bill back again. Okay, Chief. Yeah, there it is. Thanks. Let's go. Look, I got dishes to do and this joint to clean up. What do you come in asking me crazy questions for? How am I supposed to remember one five dollar bill from another? The Italian grocer up the street claims you gave him this one as part payment on a bill, Miss Campbell. So then I gave it to him. What's this all about? I'll tell you what it's all about, Miss. That five dollar bill was stolen from the diner when Charlie Porter was killed. How could you know anything like that? We know because the bill is marked with a name. A customer gave it to Porter just a few minutes before the killing. Spending that bill makes you a candidate for a murder trial. It isn't my money. I didn't know. Jack Hausman gave it to me. He'll kill me for telling you. Where is he? Here. When you rang the bell, he went in there, the bathroom. He must have heard us. Open up, Hosman. Better break it. All right. God, out the window. He wanted me to swear he was with me. There he is, gone over the fence at the back of the alley. Stop, Hosman! Give me a boost when we hit the fence. He may be armed. Behind that old washing machine. Back off! Don't come for me! Give up, Buster! He threw the head. He's dead. Have to call a wagon to take him away. Yeah. We can go out that way. Watch out for those broken bed springs, Chief. You might tell your clothes. I see them. What kind of a place is this anyhow? A sign on the fence. It's junkyard. An appropriate place for a man like him to end. Yeah. I still don't know how come he didn't leave fingerprints on Porta's gun. He used to work on the railroad. I think he knew what he was going to do when he went into the diner. Probably wore gloves. You know, there's only one thing that bothers me, Chief. No. That bill I wrote the name on. What about it? You still got it. Ain't I going to get it back? Sure. This is David Bryan. I hope you enjoy this case from the files of Mr. District Attorney. I'll be back in just a moment after this message from our sponsor. Who is the star of Mr. District Attorney? David Bryan, with a word about the program you have just heard. Walter Bailey, the hobo who was almost convicted on circumstantial evidence, was found to be an amnesia victim. He was sent to a hospital recovered and reunited with his family, which he hadn't seen in nine years. He was also restored to a successful business. Jack Hausman's girlfriend, Helen Campbell, is serving a penitentiary sentence as an accessory after the fact. Now this is David Bryan inviting you to join us when we present our next case based on the facts of crime from the file of Mr. District Attorney. Mr. District Attorney was originated by Phillips H. Lord.