 The Equitable Life Assurance Society presents This Is Your FBI. This Is Your FBI. The official broadcast from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Presented transcribed as a public service by the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States and the Equitable Society's representative in your community. United we stand, divided we fall. That is why more than six million people have joined together to form the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States. A most important part of this friendly organization is the group of 8,000 Equitable Society representatives serving you in every city in the nation. These are friendly, helpful men who can show you how to protect the happiness and security of your family by providing you with sound plans to meet the future no matter what happens. In about 14 minutes, I'll tell you more about your local Equitable Representative and how he may help you to enjoy the many advantages of membership in the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States. Tonight, the subject of our FBI file, bank robbery, its title, The Dime of Dan Stick Up. The special agents of your FBI are drawn from many different sections of the country. Some come from well-to-do homes. Others are the type of men who as boys did odd jobs after school to augment the family income and then went on to work their way through college. But whether their background is luxury or hard knocks, the men of the FBI have two common denominators. These are courage and mental alertness. Courage to face the armed killers of the underworld. Mental alertness to seize on the one clue in a carefully planned crime which leads finally to its solution. In tonight's case, we see special agents of your FBI proving once again that they possess mental alertness and courage. Tonight's file opens in a shabby second floor dance hall located in large western city. It is early evening, one of the hostesses is seated at a corner table as another hostess approaches. Hi, Jane. Oh, hello, Grace. Mind if I sit here a minute? Ooh, I feel you're killing me. It's a shame. How many tickets you got so far, kid? Three. Three, huh? Look, you mind if I tell you something? No. Well, you're brand new here, honey. I've been at this thing a long time, so I feel entitled to give you a little advice. I wish you would. Yeah. You don't sell enough. Sell? Uh-huh. Laugh. Talk. Turn it on. But, Grace, I try. Nothing comes out, sweetheart. What do you suggest I do? I mean, what should I laugh and talk about? Talk about him. That's all the guys are ever interested in. Oh? Butter him. Laugh up his jokes. Don't look so sad. You just got to remember there'll always be nights like this. Well, I... Wait a minute. Here comes a guy now. Turn on the charm and nail him. No, you dance with him, Grace. No, no, no, that. Stand up and let's see you go to work. Come on. Come on. Come on. Hello there. You want to dance? Sure. Here's a ticket. Come on. Excuse me, Grace. By all means. My but you're an off the good dancer. Uh-huh. You just seem to have so much rhythm, don't you? Yeah. Do you... Do you come here often? I certainly hope so. You just dance so wonderfully. Is there another way out of here? Huh? Is there any way you get out besides those front steps? Yeah, fire escape. Where is it? Right behind those curtains in the back. We'll dance over there. Why? Please, just do like I say. You... You want to leave? That's right. But we just started dancing. Look, just let me... Huh? You're hurt. It's nothing. Your... Your shoulder, it's bleeding. Is this where the door is? Yes, but... Take the rest of my tickets. Just let me get out. And do me a favor. Forget you ever saw me. Wait. Huh? That shoulder, I can't let you... Look, I'm coming with you. The following morning in the local field office of your FBI, Special Agent Jim Taylor is just greeting his fellow agent, Chet Logan. Hello, Chet. Welcome back. Thanks, Jim. How's your vacation? Great. You've been in to see the boss yet? Yeah, that's what I'm doing here. He wants me to work with you. Good. I can use some help. What's the story? A bank job. Four men held up the Travers National. How'd they work? One man went into the bank and did the actual job. Two others stood guard outside. Fourth man stayed in the car. Any identification? Well, the teller at the bank saw the one who did the actual stick up. No mask? Yeah, yeah. He had a handkerchief over his face, but he got a coughing spell and it slipped down on him. Teller's downstairs now going over our file of pictures. Any identity on the others? No. There's one thing about the hold up that puzzles me, though. What's that? Well, the bank is situated on a corner. The getaway car was parked right in front of it on Main Street. Yes. And the bandit ran out of the bank he didn't make for the car. Instead, he turned the corner onto 3rd Avenue and into the railroad station. What happened then? Well, according to a few of the eyewitnesses, one of the men in the gang ran after him, but he got away. The other two drove off in the car. That is odd. Anybody think to get the license number on the car they used? Yeah, the car turned up abandoned this morning. There's not a good fingerprint any place on it. How much did they get? 18,000. Special Agent Taylor. Yeah, Mark? He did fine. Yeah, thanks very much. That was IDENT section. Teller just definitely identified a thief named Gibson as the man who did the job. Are they sending up Gibson's record? As soon as it gets here, we'll go to work. Hello. Hello. Mm-hmm. Do you feel any better? Who are you? Gene. Gene? Oh, you're the girl from the dance hall. That's right. Where am I? This is my place. I brought you here last night. I bathed it, put a bandage on. You made me promise not to call a doctor. Did you call one? No. Thanks. Can you eat something? No, not just yet. I've got to be getting to work pretty soon. What time is it? About six. At night? Uh-huh. I've really been out. Wait a minute. What did you knock yourself out for? What do you mean? Bringing me here. You needed help. I can't pay you nothing. I didn't expect anything. Oh, I'm sorry. I know what it is to be alone. I need somebody to help you. Oh. I suppose you've been wondering what this is all about. Why I got shot. I didn't ask you, did I? No. There's some guys who want to get their hands on me. Gangsters? I guess you'd call them that. Why don't you call the police? I can't. Why not? They'd help you. I'll explain some other time. You better get some more sleep. You leaving? Yeah, I'm going to work. Gene. Huh? I'm going to ask you one more favor. When you call the place I work, I'll give you the number. Tell them I won't be in. Sure, but... But what? You never told me your name. Oh. It's Gibson. Larry Gibson. Anything happen while I was out? Bill called. He went out and examined the car that was using the bank job, but he couldn't find a thing. Any news from the police? No. How'd you make out, Jim? I finally found the hotel where Gibson was living. Why was living? Yeah, he checked out the morning of the stick-up. One of the bell boys said that he took Gibson's bags down to the railroad station, checked them, but he never came back for the claim checks. That's funny. I got the claim checks and went down to the station. The bags were still there. Did you go through them? Yeah, but there wasn't anything in them. There might be a lead, just some shirts and socks and two old suits. It sounds like he intended to come back for the checks, but never got a chance. Yeah, I guess it must be it. He must have just grabbed a train when he ran into the railroad station. Do you have any friends at the hotel? No, Chetty was a loner, but the clerk told me he was sick a lot. He used to use a house doctor. Did you get to see him? Yeah, he told me that Gibson had quite a bad case of tuberculosis. Well, that would explain the fit of coughing during the stick-up. Yeah, but it doesn't explain why he didn't use the getaway car. Jim, I'm convinced he ran into that railroad station on purpose. It wasn't just the first safe place. I'm inclined to go along with you on that. I've got the switchboard working on something now that might prove you to be right. What's that? Well, the doctor up at the hotel told Gibson to go away to a sanitarium up in the mountains. Any particular one? No, he gave him a list of places. I see. Special Agent Taylor. Yeah, he is. Yeah, thanks very much. Now, will you put through a call to police headquarters up there for me? That's right. Thanks. Switchboard, Chet. They've located Gibson in one of the sanitariums. Good. Will you hold down the office? I'm going to take a run up there right now. What happened to you last night? I went home. What happened to that tall kid you were dancing with? Who? Your last customer. Oh, he didn't feel good. He needed some fresh air. Mm-hmm. So you went out the back door with him and down the fire escape? How do you know? I saw you. Oh. Hey, look, Jean, I don't want to run your life, but be careful, huh? What do you mean? Well, that tall kid's red hot. I don't understand, Grace. There was a guy in here last night after you two left. He was looking for him. A cop? No, a hoodlum. And he's here again tonight. Where? Walking toward us right now. In the brown suit? Uh-huh. Grace, what'll I do? That's too late for anything now, honey. I got some tickets here. I want to dance. Yeah, with me, honey? No, honey. With her. Oh, well, she's kind of tired. Shut up. Come on, sister. But... Dance, I said. I said. My, but you're an awfully good dancer. You just seem to have so much rhythm. Stop the routine. Where's Larry Gibson? Who? The guy you took out of here the back way last night. I don't know what you're talking about. You took him out of here. He didn't go home, so he must have gone to your place. Where you live? That... That's none of your business. Look, you better answer me. I don't have to. And I don't have to dance with you either. Find yourself another girl. That's your gene? Yeah. It's pretty early for you to be home. Uh-huh. You didn't get fired on account of me, did you? No, Larry. I came home because you're in trouble. What do you mean? A man came up to the dance hall. He was looking for you. What was his name? I don't know. He danced with me. He asked me where you were. What'd you tell him? I said I didn't know. What do you look like? Short with black hair and a moustache. And a scar on his right cheek? That's right. That's Russ Crowley. He's the guy who shot me. What does he want? Nothing. I got to get out of here, though. I don't want to get you in trouble. Larry. What? Please let me call a police. No. But he'll kill you. I know you will. Let me take care of myself. But they shot you once. Please, Larry. Honey, there's an awful good reason why I can't. But you've got... Look, Gene, I got a brother. He's older than me. His name is Fred. And he's been in trouble ever since I can remember. Trouble? Yeah, with the cops. Last week, he and three of his gang held up a bank. What? They held up a bank. Fred found out the other three guys were gonna double-cross him, so he beat them to it and ran away with a loot. Were... Were you mixed up in it? No. But they came to my house and talked to my landlady. She told him I'd gotten a phone call from my brother. How'd she know? The phone's in the hall. She answers it. These guys want to know where Fred went with the money. I'm not gonna tell him. Larry, I think it's swell that you're nice to your brother, but if it means getting killed... Fred's sick. So sick he's only got about six months to live. That's why I can't go to the cops. I'd have to tell him where he is. I don't want him to spend his last few months in any prison. What are you gonna do, Larry? Well, one thing I've got to do for sure, and let's get out of here. You're safe here. You don't know that, Mom. You'll find out where you live. We already found out, Larry. Hey! Russ. How did you get here? I followed you. Okay, Larry. Start talking. We will return in just a moment to tonight's exciting case from the official files of your FBI. Wouldn't you like to be your own boss when you're 60? Live where you want. Go where you please. Do what you've always wanted to do. Well, you can. And you don't have to be rich or make big money. The experience of Mr. Harvey Justin, a member of the Equitable Life Assurance Society, will convince you that it's possible. Isn't that true, Mr. Justin? That's right, Mr. Keating. I'm 41 right now. But about four years ago, I began to worry about what would happen to me and the wife when I got old enough to retire. I didn't want to be a burden to anybody, and I wanted a comfortable income. But on my kind of money, I didn't believe I could ever find the answer. And then, on this program, I heard you describe a plan that even a fellow in my circumstances could take advantage of. That's our famous Equitable Independent 60s plan. And then? Well, I called our local Equitable Representative. Insurance was always Greek to me, but our Equitable man made it simple, as easy as ABC. He proved we would build up a retirement fund on my income without putting a dent in our budget. And how my wife could get all the advantages if something happened to me. Mr. Keating, if all your Equitable Representatives are as friendly, helpful, and smart as our Equitable man, you've got a great organization. Thank you, sir. Yes, friends, you can have confidence in your local Equitable Representative. He's a specialist in life insurance. He has the right plan to fit your needs, a plan you can afford, whether it's independence after 60, owning your own home free and clear, providing an education for your children, or future security for your family. Yes? If you want to stop worrying and start living, talk over your future with your local Equitable Society Representative. He is friendly, helpful, and he knows the answers. Consult your local telephone directory for the name of your local representative of the Equitable Society. That's E-Q-U-I-T-A-B-L-E. The Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States. And now back to tonight's FBI file, the dime-a-dan stick up. Tonight's case was chosen in order to point out the danger of assuming responsibility for strangers, particularly those who avoid help through the regular channels. The mere fact that Larry, although painfully wounded, had failed to report either to a hospital or the police should have aroused gene suspicions. She should have reflected that a man who has been shot through the shoulder and who is obviously trying to hide it from the authorities is either a criminal himself or closely connected with criminals. She should have remembered also that harboring a criminal is an unlawful act and that one who does so thereby becomes what is legally known as an accessory after the fact. FBI agents are certainly not anxious to make people suffer because of their ignorance or good intentions. But they can't always protect such people against results of their own foolishness. Tonight's file continues in the FBI field office. Special Agent Jim Taylor has just returned from a visit to the sanitarium and is relaying his information to his fellow agent, Chet Logan. Jim, did you find Gibson? Y'all. Where is he? He's still up at the sanitarium, Chet. I had him placed under protective custody. I see. Where'd you get from? Well, he admitted taking part in the stick-up. Oh, I've brought back his written confession. It's in on the boss's desk now. How much did he tell you? Everything. Including the names of his accomplices? Yeah. He named the three others who worked on the job with him, and I've already sent out alarms on all three of them. Isn't it kind of odd that Gibson talks so freely, Jim? No, he had a reason for talking. What's that? Well, he says that he found out the gang was going to double-cross him, so he decided he'd double-cross them instead and run away with the loot. Uh-huh. This morning he just received word from his kid brother and may kill his brother if he doesn't tell him where he's hiding. That might be the truth. I think it might for one reason. Gibson still has that money someplace, and he offered to make us a deal. Kind of a deal. He says that if we capture the other three and in that way remove his kid brother from any danger, he'll turn in the money. Larry, what is it? You know I'm a nice fella. I don't like to hurt nobody, but I may have to start and open up soon and tell me where your brother is. He has been telling you, he doesn't know. You keep out of this. She's right. I don't know where Fred is. Okay, kid. Let's forget about where he is. Make believe I'm not interested. We'll change the subject, okay? Fine. Suppose you just tell me where he stashed the dough. I don't know that either. Look, Larry, believe me, if it was just me, I'd just walk out of here and forget the whole thing. Then why don't you? What would I tell my partners that I came here? You told me a story and I was a big sloven to forget it. They wouldn't understand, kid. So why don't you make it easy for both of us? Tell me where we can find Fred or the dough and let me get out of here. For the hundredth time, I don't know. Look, kid, I never belted nobody who was laying in bed. Don't make me break my record. You leave him alone. You hear what I'm saying, Larry? I hear you. This is your last chance. Where's your brother? I don't know. Okay. I guess you got to get full treatment. Jim, we just got a phone call from police headquarters. They arrested two of the three men who worked with Gibson. Which one's missing? Russ Crowley. Russ Crowley. I know him. He's a killer. Did you have any luck? Well, when I left here, I went up to the rooming house where Larry Gibson lives. I spoke to his landlady. She told me Larry hadn't been home last night at all. Did you know where he works? Yeah, it's in a garage over on 11th Street. I went there and I spoke to the nightpan. He said that a woman called earlier the night about Larry. Said that he was sick and that he wouldn't be into work. Have you got her name? Just a first name. It was Jean. But the garage manager remembered that she said she worked at the Rainbow Ballroom. And Main Street? Yeah, that's the place. I called them and they have a hostess named Jean, but she wasn't there. I think we should go over to the Rainbow Ballroom. Pardon me. Are you Miss Grace Wilbur? Yeah. I'm a special agent at the FBI here in my credentials. Okay. What do you want with me? We'd like to ask you a few questions about a girlfriend of yours. Jean Hayward. What about Jean? What happened to her? Nothing, we hope. Oh, no riddles, mister. Well, from what the manager says, Miss Hayward just came to work here last week. That's right. And he says that because your girls get paid on the first and 13th of the month. Could be. Well, we thought since you seem to be the only friend that she had up here that you might give us her address. You came to the wrong store, Mr. Taylor. I don't turn in my friends. We don't want to arrest Miss Hayward, but she might be in very serious danger. We'd like to help her. Are you leveling? We have absolutely no reason to want to arrest Miss Hayward. Please, you can take our word for that. Okay. What do you want to know? Where does she live? I don't know. I went there last Thursday night with her after work, but we went in a cab and we were talking all the way. You know how it is. You don't pay much attention. Well, do you remember anything about the house? Yeah. Yeah. It was number 333. But I don't know what street it was, because there was so much excitement. So much excitement about what? Well, there was a big fire right across the street, so we got out of the cab and ran right in the house. Can you remember what kind of a building was on fire, Miss Wilbur? I think it was a store. Why? Well, we may be able to check the fire department records and see what fires they covered on Thursday night. Oh. About one other thing, Miss Wilbur. Did you take the cab to Miss Hayward's home from in front of the dance hall here? Yeah, we did. Now, this is very important. Do you remember how much the cab fare was? Yeah, I remember, because I paid it. The meter read 60 cents. Thanks. Chet, that means it's less than two miles from here. Yeah. Let's get a map of the city and check with the fire department on what fires they covered within a radius of two miles of here last Thursday night. All right. Break it up. Get away from the guy. It's time I went back to work. No, you can't hit him anymore. He's unconscious now. I just want to bring him to... No! Look, I told you before about that screamer. If anybody comes in here, your boyfriend never gets off the bed. Now, get away. Don't hit... I ain't gonna hit him. I'll give you my word. All right, Larry. Come around. Come on. Mmm. There's a water in that glass. Yes. Give me it. Here. All right, Larry. Come on. Come on. That's it. What is it? Can you hear me? Yeah. I ain't working out on you anymore. Kid, you hear that? Yeah. I got a better way to get my information. I'm using your girlfriend here. Let me lift you up a minute. There. I want you to have a ringside seat for the main attraction. Leave her alone, Russ. Now, come here, sweetheart. Let go of me. Now, watch this, Larry. And so, keep up till you decide to do business. You wanted to take any more? You're taking enough, Crowley. Now, who are you? FBI. Your God, Jimmy's making a break. Come here. Thanks for trying to get away. Mr.... You're not gonna arrest Larry. No, Miss Ayward. We'll take care of Crowley. You take care of Larry. Russell Crowley was given a 25-year sentence in federal prison for bank robbery. Other members of his gang were sentenced to 15 years each for their part in the crime. And thus, by careful deduction and painstaking investigation, your FBI was able not only to round up the four criminals who wantonly robbed a bank, but also to save two young innocent people from further sadistic torture meted out by a brutal thug. In this case, as in so many others, time was an all-important factor. And for that reason, the special agents assigned to this case worked through the night. Criminals have no office hours. And as many of them have learned to their regret, neither does your FBI. Friends, you cannot foretell the future, but you can do the next best thing. You can plan for it. If you want protection for your wife and children or a comfortable living in your later years, college education for your youngsters when they grow up, or home ownership free and clear, get acquainted with a man who knows best how to help you, the local Equitable Society representative. You can count on him to help you get the most for your insurance dollar. Consult your local telephone directory for the name of your local representative of the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States. Next week, we will dramatize another case from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Its subject, homicide, its title, The Jolly Widow. The incidents used in tonight's Equitable Life Assurance Society's broadcast are adapted from the files of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, all names used are fictitious, and any similarity thereof to the names of places or persons living or dead is accidental. Tonight, the music was composed and conducted by Frederick Steiner. Your narrator was William Woodson and special agent Taylor was played by Stacey Harris. Others in the cast were B. Benedett, Sam Edwards, Eddie Firestone, Joyce McCloskey, and Carlton Young. This is Your FBI is a Jerry Divine production. This is Larry Keating speaking for the Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States and the Equitable Society's representative in your community. And inviting you to tune in again next week at this same time when the Equitable Life Assurance Society will bring you another thrilling transcribe story from the file to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The Jolly Widow on This is Your FBI.