 The FW Fitch Company presents Dick Powell as Private Investigator Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. Laugh a while, let the song be your style, you Fitch Shampoo. Don't despair, use your head, save your hair, you Fitch Shampoo. The FW Fitch Company makers of Fitch's saponified coconut oil shampoo and Fitch's shaving creams presents Dick Powell as Private Investigator Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. Rogue's speaking, you know I'm a man who loves sunshine, in or out of orange juice. And the only place that has more sunshine for square inch than the Sahara Desert is the San Fernando Valley. San Fernando seems to be the place where everybody, including some of the healthiest gopers in the world, makes his home but me. I've withstood the blandishments of hundreds of brick red real estate men who have offered me membership in that clan of plaid shirted, tight blue jean, high heel booted fraternity known as the San Fernando Valley Ranchers. Ranchers. Yes, sir. The San Fernando Valley has branches that are thicker than any place in the world. There are at least two on every acre. Well, anyway, I was driving around out there this Sunday evening, it was swimming weather, and I happened to remember that my friend Joe Dale had a half acre spread in the neighborhood with a quarter acre swimming pool, so I stopped at the antlers on the gate, rang the ship's bell hanging there, but nobody answered. I thought maybe Joe was in the pool in the rear, so I opened the door and walked in. Then I felt like walking out again, because I saw Joe Dale lying there, making a red stain on the white living room rug, very defunct. I walked over to him and gazed on at him. Then I heard the footsteps behind me and did a half turn in time to see oblivion whistling down on my head. Oh, everything went red, white, and blue, and I was whirling like a top. Oh, it made me dizzy whirling like that. I couldn't stand the shrieking of the wind as it whistled past my ears. I concentrated on stopping so hard that I could hear my teeth gritting. But no go. Then I thought of you, Gore. And suddenly I heard his pleasant voice. He he he he he he he. Hello, Chiefy. Oh, oh, my head. You Gore, who is this ancient feather merchant with you? Wolfs is her father. You mean a little dame's father? What's he doing with that gun? He couldn't pull the trigger with a tractor. Oh, shut up. I don't feel good. Oh, make him stop talking. His voice sounds like a grindstone on a grindstone. Oh, no. I'm not going to let my alter ego get married. You Gore can't get married. Oh, that's a mighty selfish way of looking at things, Rocky. Oh, look, look, my head. I don't feel good. I came up here for a rest. Shut up, shut up. I can't stand that silly voice of yours. Stand it. I'm getting out of here. It came to I was looking right in Joe Dale's face, which was inches from mine. The inside of my head was still whirling and clanking like a washing machine. But it didn't take me long to get back up to date. I remembered I had dropped in at Joe Dale's house for a quick swim and found Joe stretched out in the living room floor shot. And I remembered that swishing sound, which always means another bump on my head. And now my feet felt like they were in diver's shoes as I got up and looked the situation over. The murder gun was lying there with the side of Joe's body, and there was a billfold on the floor by the door. Being the kind of a guy I am, I picked up the billfold first. It was Joe Dale's and I put it in my pocket. Then I took my handkerchief and carefully picked up the gun. I was bending over Joe, gun in hand, when I heard a voice behind me. Joe! A beautiful dame had walked in on me and caught me bending over the corpse, gun in hand. She fainted. I ran over to her. Hey, hey, come out of it, lady. Come on, come on. Oh, come on. Oh, Lord, everything happens to me. Come on, come out of it. Open your eyes. But she didn't. While I was working on her, a man showed up at the open door. He took one look at the tableau and dived for the murder gun, which I dropped. He pointed the gun at my third vest button and said, just stay right where you are. I know how to shoot this thing, and I'm holding you for the police. Your partner got away, but I'll see... Look, Mr.... Look, I am the police. I know who you are. You're Richard Rowe, the private investigator. You've been mixed up in plenty of shady deals before. What did you do to my wife? Is this your wife? Yes. What's the matter with her? Well, she came in, saw Joe Dale's body and fainted. Barry... Barry, is that you? Yes, dear. Now, don't worry. I'm here. I'll take care of you. This...this man, he was standing over Joe's body with a gun in his hand when I came in. He's a killer, Barry. Be careful. Don't worry, dear. I have him covered. Stay right there, Rowe. I'm a nervous man. And I advise you not to move while I'm phoning the police. 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Next time you're at your barber or beauty shop, ask for a professional application of Fitch's saponified coconut oil shampoo, or buy an economical bottle at your drug or toilet goods counter. Look for the bottle with the bright yellow label. Now back to Dick Powell as private investigator Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. I couldn't very well blame Perry Stevens or his wife for thinking I just put the kiss of death on Joe Dale. Mrs. Stevens came in and saw me bending over the body with a murder gun in my hand, promptly fainted. And so when Perry arrived, the floor was cluttered or cluttered with bodies, and I was the only spanger. He picked up the killer's gun and held me at the point of it until the cops arrived. Lieutenant Urban of Homicide was in charge as usual. He seemed a little bit discouraged with me. Well, Rogie, what's your story? Urban is a simple one. I just dropped in here to take a swim and found Joe Dale dead. Why didn't you report the murder to Homicide? I didn't have a chance. The killer was hiding here in the room. He slapped me silly and escaped while I was out. How do you think I got this cut on my head, Shaving? I never know about you. There were two of them, Lieutenant. One out from behind this house, a big man, red-haired, rough. This man here, this Richard Rogue, had an accomplice. When I came in, Mr. Rogue was bending over the body with a gun. That gun in his hand. I almost caught him in the act. I brought it, Rogie. Well, I was bending over the body all right. I'd just come to. I was checking up. Why didn't you call Homicide when you came to? I was going to, Urban. But this dame here walked in on me, screamed, fainted. I demanded to arrest this man. Oh, wait a minute. What were you doing here? Joe was an old friend. We just came over to take him to dinner. Don't try to implicate a couple of law-abiding people in your crime. You and your wife came together? Of course. Then how come she came in ahead of you? I hesitated when I saw that man run out from behind the house. Lieutenant, do I have to stand here and let this murderer cross-question me? Mrs. Stevens, you and your husband came here together? Yes. We had a dinner date with Joe. Did you see this man run away from the house? No, I came right straight inside. Look, Rogi, you'd better come down to headquarters with me. Right now, we've got some talking to do. Urban, Urban, I'll be down in an hour. I want to go to the emergency hospital and have my head put back on. I got to go home and get a suit without these red polka dots. Then I'll be down. I demand that you put rogue under arrest, Lieutenant. Now take it easy, Mr. Stevens. I've had a little more experience with this sort of thing than you have. See you in an hour, Rogi. Be there. That gash on my head had cost me a lot of blood and I was a little woozy as I left the ex-residence of the late Joe Dale. I drove turtle speed to the emergency hospital where the doc made a few insulting remarks about me getting scars on the scars on my poor head. And then I went home. I walked in the door and an arm went around my throat. A crooked elbow squeezed my Adam's apple until I choked. I felt a hand sneak into my inside breast pocket and lift that wallet I'd picked up on the floor beside Joe Dale's body. The elbow squeezed a little tighter, tighter, tighter, and I had a horrifying sensation of bursting lungs. And then the elbow released me and I fell to the floor to the accompaniment of departing footsteps. I was still lying there when Urban walked in to the open door. I got worried about you when you didn't show up, Rogi. What happened? I don't know. I guess I just got faint and flopped over here. I lost a lot of blood, you know. Better take care of yourself, Rogi. I don't want to lose you. Do you like talking? Sure, sure, but I don't know anything to talk about. Maybe you'd like to talk about a murder. Well, and tell me, did you get a line on that red-headed guy that was seen leaving Joe's house? I've got a description out on him. Nothing's happened yet. How about Mr. and Mrs. Stevens? Check up on them. Yeah. Stevens is the personnel director for an airplane company. Haces bills promptly, has money in the bank, lives within his income, and he's been a friend of Joe Dale since college days. They're clean. That leaves you and a big red-headed guy in the finals. One of you killed Joe Dale. I don't think you did it, but, uh, I could get an indictment against you in 20 minutes with the evidence I have. No, but I didn't kill him. I didn't like him well enough. Well, I guess it's up to me to find the big red-headed guy, huh? You checked the gun? No soap. The number was filed off, and the only fingerprints on it were Stevens. And they got on it when he was holding you. Yeah. I was there when it happened, remember? Oh, brother. Brother, do I feel weary? Well, there's, uh, one thing I'll swear to. Mrs. Stevens was not expecting to find Dale murdered. She really went out like a butler on Thursday night. You know, Rogie, I'm a cop, and the fact that you and I understand each other doesn't make any difference to the commissioner. Yeah, I know. Joe Dale was a pretty prominent character. Lots of connections. Now, the commissioner expects a quick pinch, and with our friends, the Stevens, down there at City Hall, swearing that they saw you standing over the body with a practically smoking gun in your hand. Well, it looks like it's going to be you I put the arm on. Oh, but you know I didn't kill him, Urban? Why would I want to kill a guy like that? Yes, I know you didn't kill him, but the newspapers are on the old man. He's on the chief, and the chief's on me. I'm going to have to pinch you, Rogie. Uh, you're a, you're a great pal, Urban. But look, if you pinch me, they'll never get a conviction. You know that you can't get a conviction without a motive. I know that, but you've made a lot of enemies around headquarters, Rogie. They see a chance to give you a bad time, and they don't want to miss it. You can see the spot I'm in. Yeah, yeah. Now, look, look, Urban, give me 24 hours to get the guy that pulled the boom on Joe Dale. Just 24 hours, and I'll have him for you. Oh, that's whistling in the dark, Rogie. Yeah, with a ten whistle, but just give me a chance at it anyway. Maybe I'll be lucky. Okay. It'll probably put me back on a beat, but I'll play along with you. You've got 24 hours, Rog. Then don't make me come after you. Come in and give yourself up. The deal? Yeah, it's a deal. You're a good copper, but I know you're sticking your neck out like a turtle at feeding time, and believe me, I won't let you down. Okay, Rog, I'll get out. Better get some sleep. You look awful. I can't afford the luxury of sleeping. I've got work to do. Okay, Rog, come on me if you need me. I'll be around. Lots of luck. You'll need it. Hello? Hello, hello. It's Lieutenant Urban there. Just a minute. Hey, Urban. Yeah? For me? Yeah. He'll be right here. Hang on. Oh, mighty excited little man on the other end of this. Yeah? Hello. Urban speaking. Lieutenant Urban, this is Perry Stevens. Yeah? And what do you want? That man, that red-headed man that I saw running away from Joe's house this afternoon. Yes, yes. He came here tonight to my house. I... Well, what did you do? He came here to kill me, but I... I shot him. He's dead. Please come out at once. I'll be right there. Now, don't move a thing till I get there. Come on, Rogi. Well, this puts that eight-ball I was behind and throw in the corner pocket, doesn't it, Urban? Yeah, it looks like Stevens wrapped this case up for us. And that makes me very happy. Oh, I wasn't looking forward to sweating it out in a jail of yours. Oh, I didn't have anything against that red-headed guy, but I'm never going to miss him. Well, it takes me off the spot, too, you know. Yeah, well, you don't have to be a hero in my corner. Oh, well, all's well that ends well, quite a phrase. It's right down this next block here. Huh? Stevens must have a lot of cabbage, big houses in this neighborhood. Yeah, I checked that. The wife's got money. Oh, there it is, that two-story white job. There's the precinct prowl car in front. The boys are on the job. Well, let's get with it. Good evening, Lieutenant. Hello, Bauer. Medical examiner here yet? No, not yet. Precinct boys just got here. Thanks. Come on, Rogi. Well, this is quite a layout. The wife's got dough, huh? Yeah. An uncle left her plenty about a year ago. Mmm. Makes it nice for Perry. Oh, what a mind. Yeah, you know, someday Betty Callahan and I are gonna have a chicken ranch out here in this valley. Look, we're investigating a murder. That's serious business. All right, Charlie, take it back. Come on, boys. Where is he? Right in there, Lieutenant. Thanks. Well, Lieutenant, it's about the time you were getting here. We came as fast as we could, Stevens. Now, suppose you tell me what happened? I'll be glad to. My, uh... My wife and I got home tonight. Where is your wife? I see any right to question me in that tone of voice, Lieutenant. Where is your wife? Well, the shock was too much for her. She's upstairs. Don't blame her. She's had enough for today. Come on, what happened? You got him with that shotgun, eh? Yes. I was frightened. Terribly frightened. And as soon as I came home, I got my shotgun. I hung a little, you know, and I put it here beside my chair. It was just a hunch. Yeah. The doorbell rang. My wife answered the door. We thought it was a neighbor. This red-headed man walked in. I recognized him at once. He was the man I'd seen run away from Joe's house. He had a gun. He was going to kill me. I suppose because I was the only eyewitness to the crime. Well, that makes sense. It certainly does. It's the truth. He turned to talk to my wife. I saw my chance. I shot him. There he is. Your murderer. I've never seen anybody kill before. Well, he's sure dead. Well, ever seen him before? No, not that I know of. Hey, what are you doing, Roggy? Oh, I'm just trying to get some identification on the guy. That's all. Little shake down. I thought. Uh-oh. What's the matter? Well, well, an alligator billfold. I didn't expect to see one on this guy. And hey, hey, urban. This is Joe Dale's billfold. It's full of dough. Yeah, let's see. Yeah, several hundred bucks in it. Yeah, that's the final piece of evidence. Uh-huh. I'll take care of it. Well, there's the medical examiner, and the newspapers are about due to arrive. You've done a good night's work, Mr. Stevens. I want to thank you. Oh, I'm not a man of violence. I'll never be able to forget this night. There was something about that wallet that was as strange as a bride in black. Other identification on the body pegged the redhead as one Tom Church recently of the Navy, now a resident of the Crane Hotel. I watched for my chance to give Urban and his minions the slip and faded away. I went to police headquarters and charged into the identification bureau on a dead run. I handed the sergeant and charged the wallet and asked him to dust it with fingerprints. Then I waited. When the sergeant came back, all was stuck out like the business end of a snow plow, and there were icicles in his voice. What's the deal, Rogie? What's the matter with you? All I ask you to do is to give me the identification on the fingerprints you found on the billboard. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you know whose prints I found, your wise private creep, do you? Yours. Only yours. We'll return to our story in a moment. First, a word to the ladies. Did you ever make the remark that your hair never was manageable after a shampoo until it was time to wash it again? 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The news that the only fingerprints on that billfold were mine turned on the floodlights. And one of my hunches picked up a hammer and started pounding against my skull. I left the billfold there for Urban and took off for the Crane Hotel to check up on the redheaded guy named Tom Church. The hotel was a fourth-class fleabag on Main Street. The clerk took a look at my buzzer and answered my questions. That's right, that's right, Shorty. I'm the law. And I want some answers. Now tell me, how long has Tom Church been registered here? Tom Church, uh, three days. He came in three days ago. All right. Now let me see his phone calls. Oh, we don't give out phone calls. Now don't lip me. Get them to me before I jump over that counter and stand on you while I pick them up. Oh, okay, okay. You look like just the kind of guy that could do it. I'll get them for you. I checked the phone calls and found one of them had a message that was going to ring somebody's number for the surprise party. I thanked the clerk and drove to the valley. The pre-dawn gray made way for the sunshine just as I walked up the front walk at Dale's house. An elderly man walked around the next branch, pushing along more. Hey, uh, are you a policeman? That's right, yes. A horrible thing that murder yesterday. Did they get the killer yet? Well, I, uh, I think so. Uh, were you home yesterday afternoon at the time of the killing? Yeah, I wasn't paying much attention, you know. I heard the shot, but I thought it was a backfire. Look, uh, look, old-timer, I... I want you to tell me everything you saw and heard after that shot, will you? Well, you see, I was sitting in my living room reading the evening paper, you know, and I saw you drive up. Are you sure you're a policeman, mister? Well, yes, of course. Yes, well, I'd like to see your credentials. You know, you were the first man I saw enter there. All right, uh, here's the dope on me. Here, the sheriff's office loves me. There it is. Satisfying? Oh, oh, yes, uh... I've heard of you, Mr. Rogue. Well, after you drove up, the lady arrived and... What do you want, Mr. Rogue? Mrs. Stevens, I'm coming in. I want to talk with you. No, come back later. I'm sorry. Go on in and sit down. What do you want? Sit down. Now, where's your husband? Asleep. Nothing ever awakens him. All right, let's, uh, get right to it, huh? What were you to Joe Dale? I don't know what you mean. Mrs. Stevens, you've been seeing Joe a lot, haven't you? Now, don't bother lying, I've got witnesses. You and Joe Dale were better friends than your husband knew, weren't you? Oh, no, I... I used to meet Joe once in a while, too. Talk over investments he was making for me. At his house? In the afternoons, usually, huh? Yes. Mrs. Stevens, your husband killed Joe Dale. You lied when you said that the two of you had a dinner date with Joe last night. I just talked to your husband's secretary. He was supposed to be in San Francisco yesterday. No. Yes, but instead he went out in the valley and killed Dale. I practically surprised him in the act. He got panicky and knocked me up and ran. No, no, he didn't. He didn't. I can prove what I'm saying, Mrs. Stevens. You came up in your car alone. Your husband came up in a cab a few minutes later. He had to get back in to get that wallet and the gun to make the murder look like a robbery. He picked the gun up so there'd be a reason for his fingerprints on it. Then he went to my apartment and collected the wallet after choking me after death. Are you with him, then? You're just making this up. You can't prove it. Mart! Mart! Don't say anymore. It's a little late for that, Stevens. You've bungled the job all the way through. And you won't be needing that gun. Harry, don't. Don't shoot. Give me that gun, Stevens. You'd be crazy to get in a shooting contest with me. You stay right where you are, Rogue. I'm not afraid to shoot. Mart, they can't make you appear against me. That's the law. If you stay with me... I'm coming after that gun, Stevens. You stay where you are, Rogue. Mart, stop looking at me like that. Nobody knows anything about what I did, but Rogue and his... No, no, Perry. You killed them. And I'm glad to get rid of you. You... You can't. Don't sell me out. I've been frightened to death ever since I've married to you. Take that gun away from him, Rogue. Take it away from him. Give me the gun, Stevens. Get away from me, Rogue. Mart, you're going back on me. You can't do that, Mart. We're in this thing together. Let me have that gun, Stevens. I should have shot you instead of him. Give me that gun or I'll break your arm off. Give it to me. Okay, Stevens, this is the end of Easy Street for you. That finished that case. Stevens went to the gas chamber on Marge's testimony and Marge is still in prison on an accessory wrap. The red-headed kid Tom Church was an... Oh, he was an innocent victim. He'd been interviewed by Stevens for a job the day before. Stevens knew he had no relatives, no connections, so he decided to frame him for the murder of Joe Dale. He described Church to the police, then called him at his hotel and asked him to come to Stevens' home for an interview about a job. If Church had been in when the call came, I might have muffed the case. But he was out, and Stevens left his number for a callback. That was luck, I guess, but I don't know. I think I would have solved the case anyway. Of course, I didn't make a dime out of it. Well, money can't buy happiness. But it can buy a lot of things that make unhappiness pleasant, can't it? Oh, you know what I mean. This is Dick Powell again. Ladies and gentlemen, hope you enjoyed our story tonight. Ray Buffham wrote it. Leith Stevens composed and conducted the music in D. Engelbach produced and directed. Next week we have a story for you about a missing witness, a worried rogue, and an ambush that failed. Be with us then, will you? Thanks for listening and now here's Jim Doyle. Be sure to tune in again next week, same time, same station, when you will again hear Dick Powell as private investigator Richard Rogue in Rogue's Gallery. For a while, let a song be your star, you spitch, shampoo. Don't despair, use your head, save your hair, you spitch, shampoo. After and between fit shampoos, you can keep your hair shining and manageable by using a few drops of Fitch's ideal hair tonic every day. Fitch's ideal hair tonic is not sticky or greasy, yet it gives your hair that well-groomed look.