 From Hollywood, it's time now for John Lund as... Johnny Daly. Burt Welch, Johnny. Want to give my regards to Broadway? You mean tell all the boys it's 42nd Street? No, 46th Street. Want you to run down there and see a theatrical agent named Lou Waltham. What's the pitch? Well, he handles a lot of high-priced talent, and shows them with us for all sorts of things. Accidents, injuries, misperformances, the usual. What's the trouble? Actually, I don't know. I want you to check on an application he made for overall coverage on Kate Bellamy. The singer? Yeah. Well, if she looks like she sounds on my record player and radio, I'm gonna love this. And we'd love to ensure her. Waltham wants her covered for almost two million. Protection against everything up to and including being driven by a CC fly, but... For what? The answers to the application questions don't seem to check out. I think we'd like to know a little more about the girl. As a matter of fact, I think Waltham would like to know a little more himself. Well, that makes three of us, because now you've got me interested. John Blunt, been a transcribed adventure of the man with the action-packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Daller. Expense accounts submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Daller to Home Office Hemispheric Insurance Company, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of expenditures during my investigation of the K Bellamy matter. Expense account item one, 2240. Plain fare and incidentals from Hartford to New York and Cab fare to the Madhouse on 46th Off-Broadway, where Lou Waltham housed his talent enterprises. I ran the gamut of would-be Thespians and his haggard secretary covered my rear valiantly as I plowed my way from the outer office to the inner sanctum. You're the guy from the insurance company? Yeah. Is it always like that out there? I think I went suddenly deaf. Yeah, you're all right. This office, time-proof. I go nuts about it and listen to that gamut all day. There's Lou Waltham. Boy, Waltham told me he was sending you down. Well, at the policy you wanted to write on K Bellamy, he doesn't think the application is as neat as it might be. Yeah, she's a valuable hunk of talent. I gotta have coverage. Well, then we need information. We need some myself. This name has been a headache from a white goat. Maybe you better tell me about it. I'll give it to you straight. I picked K up, well, almost two years ago. She was nothing, nobody. Two on a strip and a boy last singing a song. You know, once in a while. I heard something in her voice, though, something them other guys missed. I signed her, had a train, got her a good deal, and it's not that's my business. Sure. She knocked down a grand a week on her radio show. More on records. I could put her into the five grand class in no time, but to do it. A what, huh? Well, we're going to tell you. See, she won't let me. She keeps sending me to the Asperin factory. Look, look, let me tell you this. Two months ago, I get her a picture deal. Hollywood. Got it all sewed up. Big dough villain. So what happens? I tell her and she screws like a banshee. No pictures. What is she? A screwball? Screwball. Take any nut in that auto office they'll send. I'd lay eight to five, and a handle on them would be a vacation at the K Bellamy. And I may be talking to myself right out of the policy I want. But listen, you want to know something. One of the things she just... Go ahead. Figures. In between a radio show, she disappears for a whole week. For months, I couldn't never find her except on show days. Until I found out. Why did she go? To help me. You can sue me if I'm lying. She spent her time working in Boylesque. What? You know what I mean? A grand a week, one radio show, but she goes around playing zip zip the rest of the time for 75 bucks a week under the name of Don Lovage. Are you sure? I followed her. I say it with my own eyes. You talk to her about it? I thought myself blowing her face. She freezes and tells me to my own business she'd go get another agent. You know, Mr. Walton, I think you'd better get another insurance company. Now look, wait, look. I do a lot of business with your clients. No trouble. This Boyle is valuable property. Give me a break, eh? Maybe you could talk to him. Maybe she just hates agents. All right, Mr. Walton. Where can I find it? Boston. Boston? Doing Boylesque in Boston? Listen, there they need it. Hey, uh, are you in it, Spencer Conn? Yeah, why? Well, I'll give you a pass it at the gate up there. You can knock down his mission friend and stick it in your kick, eh? Okay? Thanks. Thanks a million. What are you laughing at? A buck's a buck, ain't it? Spencer Conn item two, 1945. Cab and plane fares between Lou Walton's New York office and the Burley Q review in Boston, where Kay Bellamy with a little Turkish veil hiding her face on the billboard was dancing under the name of Don LaValle. The theater was closed in the later afternoon, but the sound of a piano came from the stage door alley. I walked backstage. There was no door man, so I went through to the wings. Don LaValle was on stage, and the dance she was doing was enough to make me forget the inadequacies of the pianist and the despairing tone of the dance director as he tried to whip the lumbering chorus into a semblance of unity. All right. One, two, three, six. One, two, three, six. Six, seven, eight, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine. Cut it, son. Son, cut it. You, Lorraine, which is your left foot, darling? Your leg up too. Make a choice. What do you want, a buck's a week? Me for the rest of the numbers, do you? No, no, you're all right, Don Darling. Go get the rest of it, darling. She walked into the wings, moving toward me in the semi-darkness. The piano had stopped, but she carried her own music with her as she moved. And it wasn't burlesque music. This girl was definitely on the symphony side. All right, girls, now get together, and let me sit one, three, four... What did you call me? Hey, Bellamy. That is your name, isn't it? Oh, mister, whoever you are. What are you doing back here anyhow? Get out of my way and let me pass you. Look, I just want to talk to you about it. My name is Don. I'm a hemispheric insurance. Look at my own. Maybe I didn't hear the lady. She told you to get out of here. Don't get dressed, baby. I'll cool this thing for a while. All right, Cole. You came in the wrong door, but the box office is around front. Listen, all right, boy, I got business here. My name is Don. I know who you are. I know the reason why you should flow. You mean the gun? You're holding it in your pocket? Kaye ain't interested in any insurance. This will tell me you're willing to insure himself and drop death. And if I don't? The gun can get awful nasty, mister Dollar. All right, Mr. Cole. Long as this isn't a personal matter, if it ever gets personal, I'm going to feed you a face for him. And I just said that. I'll tell the boss. Then if you keep nosing around, maybe he'll issue me a special hunting license just for you. The love of old Mr. Crowell had told me two things. One was that he had a boss. And two, Kaye Bellamy was also taking orders from somebody. I found a cafe around the corner from the theater. When the rehearsal broke, some of the cast wanted in. I went in too. I got a seat at the counter next to the girl called Loreen. I just want to cup of coffee when you get a chance, Joe. Hello. Hi. You had a little trouble in rehearsal, didn't you? Yeah, I always had trouble. Were you there? Yeah, and the wings. I thought you were doing fine. Ah, that Lutzy gives me a pain. He's always putting on the big act like he was doing a Hollywood musical or something. Who's Lutzy? Lutzy Lazario, the dance director. You saw it. He's over in the corner booth there with Valerie, one of the new girls. He thinks he's a regular Romeo. Continental type, huh? Yeah, Continental Brooklyn, if you ask me. He made a play for Dawn, but she brushed him fast. So Lutzy has a big crush on Dawn, huh? He'll forget it if he's smart. She's aiming for bigger moose than him. Like who, for instance? Some guy named... Hey, hey, that's my date honking for me. I gotta go. I'm sorry I can't keep you company. Well, that's all right, Loreen. I think I'll go over to the corner booth and join Lutzy and his girlfriend. Okay, by me if you ain't particular, mister. No, no, no. You're not something... Appreciation for the dancers, not what I've been accustomed to. If people who knew me enough, they never found out. Yeah, let's say Lazario, all right? Oh, yes, yes, I'm Lazaro. Didn't I see you backstage during our hustles? Yes, I was watching your work. Oh, that's right, yes. You are in the business? Well, in a way, I'm doing a little scouting for Lou Walcom, the agent. He's got a chance to sell some talent for a big Broadway musical if he can find the right people. Well, sweetheart, won't you sit down, Mr. Daller? Johnny Daller. This is Valerie, Mr. Daller. She's in the chorus. And this is a great pleasure, Mr. Daller. Of course, you don't know it, Lazario, but I've had an eye on you. You and the star of your show, Don LaValle. Oh, I am so ashamed that you could find me in such a place. It has been a thing I've been doing, you know, temporarily. Yeah, yeah, I understand. How about the girl, though? Oh, you can get her to leave here, Mr. Daller. There ain't as much dough in all Broadway as she could get just by marrying the guy that's after her. Besides, if you're looking for a real dancer, I... Your boyfriend sounds like big money. More than just money, Mr. Daller. Real big shot family. He's Martin Bayard Cullen, the third. Her breath was singeing my eyebrows, but it was the name that really made him curl. Martin Bayard Cullen, the third. Connections with the capital C. Kay Bellamy was really moving into the big leagues and doing it the hard way via Burlesque runway. Didn't that up? You're wasting your time with Don, Mr. Daller. Besides, I'm a better hoof than she'll ever be. All I need... I know, I know, Valerie, a break. That's what we all need, just one good break. I'll see both of you later. Spence account item three. Five dollars for a Boston hotel room. Since I decided to stay over and see the show at the Burley Q review. Spence account item four. Thirty cents. Federal amusement tax will be paid on the past Lou Waltham had given me for the show. Spence account item five. Twenty five cents for a box of the Genuine Saltwater Taffy sold during intermission with a guaranteed price in each and every box. I got a Genuine Tin Cigar Clipper. Mr. K Bellamy, masquerading as Don Lavaia take off everything the law would allow except the veil that covered the lower half of her face. Then, emotionally exhausted, I went back to my hotel and slept. It was noon when I was wakened by a knock on the door. Rise to see me. Well, a little, Miss Bellamy. You weren't happy with me yesterday. Well, I was angry with Lou Waltham for sending you. See, Mr. Daller, I... I started out in Burlesque and, frankly, for some reason I like it, that's all. Ah, you must to mix it with a thousand-dollar-a-week radio career. Sometimes a farm kid makes good in a big city, gets his own swimming pool. But when he gets a chance, he takes off his shoes and goes waiting in the brook. Sometimes? That's the way it is with me. A lie like that ought to get your pretty mouth washed out with soap. Why should I lie to you? Besides, Lou Waltham has no right to insure me unless I want myself insured, does he? So why don't you forget it? And let's be friends. Johnny Daller. Johnny, Bert Welch. I've had an awful time finding you. A few more minutes and I'll put through a call to you, Bert. I think you'd better forget about that Kay Bellamy policy Waltham wanted. The lady doesn't want to be insured. Even if she did, it wouldn't matter now. What do you mean? Waltham killed in his private office some time this morning. Lease just found the body. We'll return you to yours truly, Johnny Daller, in just a moment. Right now, our country is engaged in all-out effort to fight off aggression and preserve our democratic freedom. The future of America concerns us all. That's why we should all help to make that future as bright as possible. By buying United States defense bonds, you can help make American freedom secure. And at the same time, you'll be automatically saving financial security, by an extra bond for defense. Our star, John Lund, we bring you the second act of yours truly, Johnny Daller. Now that Boston was back in New York by late afternoon, Charlie Dyer from the police lab was going over to Waltham's private office with dusting powder and camera. Some of them act to sit outside? Yeah. Charlie, you find anything? About 200 sets of fingerprints all different. This one's going to be fun. Probably turned out the Shakespeare did it. Well, half the talent in the outer office there might confess if they were sure the last meal is all it's cracked up to be. Maybe they're waiting to see if we're going to cast Paul Barra's. Hey, what are you doing here? Just looking over some papers under this, Charlie. Oh, come off it, Daller. You know better than that. We'll tend to find out I let you in here. All right, Charlie. Look, just give me one break. You got the keys to this file, cabinet? Yeah, why? Open it for me, will you? Just this one drawer, A through C. Come on, Charlie. Can't hurt anything. Oh, there's nothing as far as the contract's journey. I know. I just want to look up a few things on Kate Bellamy. Singer, you think she did it? No, but... Well, I want to see the file, that's all. Come on, Charlie, will you? One peak. Five minutes. All right. Can I finish that side of the room anyhow? Go ahead. Take the folder you want, Charlie, but I want to see what you're doing. Here it is. Kate Bellamy. Just curious about something. Why a doll with her voice and face and figure isn't on television? Oh, if I cry out loud, go out and take a seat on the bench with the rest of those nuts. I didn't even hear them. Kate Bellamy's contract with Lou Waltham was a dilly. No personal appearances, no club dates, no publicity pictures released without her approval, no studio audiences permitted at her broadcast, no television shows. Look, Johnny, will you finish that and get out of here? I'm finished, Charlie. Why, she ain't on television. If you ask me, she must have a face that'd blow out the transmitter. What makes you say that? Pictures of her in the photo file. Where? Bottom drawer, it says photos. I want to see those too, Charlie. There's nothing to see. Hats with veiled silhouettes even in the newspaper clippings. Everything must really be ugly. Man, there's the only shot without a veil. Her and some guy were in big hats. Shadow all over the faces. Mexican sombreros, mule and cart in the background. This must have been snapped in Mexico. Come on, put them back, Johnny, and clear her out. There's nothing to see. It was wrong. There was something to see in that Mexican photo, all right. Not Kate Bellamy's face, but her hand holding the rim of the sombrero. And on the hand, a wedding ring. Spencer Count, item seven. Same as items two and six. 1945, cab and plane fare between New York and Boston. I made the plane just in time and then got another little shock. It was a vacant seat on the aisle. I took it. The window seat was occupied by a dancer named Valerie. Well, fancy meeting you here, Mr. Dollar. You better fasten that seat belt. You're a long way from Boston, aren't you? Well, I flew down this morning. He said Mr. Walton was looking for people for a shell, so I thought I ought to see him. Did you? No, I... Well, well, you must know about the murder and police and everything. I know about the murder and the police, but not everything. You want to fill me in. I don't know what you're talking about. What time was it when you went to see Walton? I remember exactly. Afternoon. The police were outside the building. I heard what happened. I didn't even go up. You were glad you weren't there earlier. Like between eight and nine this morning when the police think he was killed. What would he be doing in his office so early? It was his honor for thinking before the arrival of a howling mob. Didn't you know that? Well, how would I know it? Yeah, maybe you wouldn't. It was a thing that was known only by his better clients, like Bay Bellamy, a friend. Which plane did you take from Boston in the yard this morning? Why don't you ask the airlines, leave me alone, I'm in mourning. Well, little Walton. Maybe for you, honey. Maybe for you. A lot of people were tying up together and they were all tying around Kay Bellamy. But there was still no sign of the payoff. I had to find out where Martin Bayer Cullen the third came into the picture. When we reached Boston, I taxied out to the exclusive back Bay mansion that had housed the Cullen for generations. Martin the third received me in the library. Your card says you're an insurance investigator. Whatever your business is, I would prefer it if you would take the matter up with my business counselor. Well, it's the kind of business they might know about. I want some information about a girl you've been seeing. What girl and what sort of information? Don LaValle at the Burley Q review. I'll answer any questions concerning Don. But Cullen, this is important. A man has been murdered. Are you implying that Don is involved in murder? I'm not implying. I'm saying it right out. Are you willing to get out of here, Mr. Dollar, or shall I throw you out? Don't try. You might bend your suit. You're being a sucker about your lady love, Cullen. She's been working here for something, hasn't she? Some kind of a favor, something? Yes. What kind of a favor? Maybe the key to a murder, Cullen. You may help her later if she's involved, but you can't cover for her. A man in a federal penitentiary, her uncle. His name is Fred Bellamy. She asked me to use my influence to have him move from a West Coast prison to one in the East where members of the family will be able to visit him. Fred Bellamy. That's right. You think you can make murder out of that? Mr. Chum, do you think Don LaValle is really her name? I never asked, frankly. Well, you should have. Not that she'd have told you. But her real name is Kay Bellamy. Kay Bellamy. And five will get you ten that Fred Bellamy is her husband, not her uncle. He was married. The police would have known it. Not if he was married to Mexico. But he's been in jail for five years. Yeah. And an eyewitness who helped to convict him swore that a girl drove the getaway car. You've been out with her, Cullen. She ever show her face in public? Always wears a hat with a bow, hasn't she? You never liked crowded places? Been taken in, haven't I? Happens to the best of us. But for your sake, I hope you didn't try to arrange that favor. I'm afraid I did, though. Bellamy should be aboard a train headed east right now. Well, then you'd better call everybody you know in Washington and get him to call out the Marines or something because somebody's gonna make a pitch to yank Bellamy off that train. But it still didn't solve the murder of Lou Walton. He'd found out the same things. I was certain. But how? I kept thinking about it. I went down the gravel driveway from the Cullen house. Then I reached the street and started to think of another murder. One that looked like it was just about to take place. My own. All right, Nosey, head for that car and climb in. You're a busy little fella, aren't you, pro? You know, I asked a boss for that special hunting license, like I said, and I got it. You ain't gonna like this ride. You're crawling behind a wheel. All right, start it and get going. Too bad you have to work so hard all alone, Crow. I just found out why you haven't had more company. I can handle you alone, Buster. I don't know. You look like part of a gang, Crow. You're the type. The rest of the boys are out meeting a train someplace, aren't they? The Fred Bellamy special. Oh, I know your mouth has to be zippered. You'll be getting nice and dark soon. Make a road out of town. Let's see a little country. Sure. Going fast enough for you? I'll get funny, slow down. Why? I like to breathe. You want this gun fell across your teeth? No, but I don't want the bullet you're planning to give me either. It's got me scared. When I get scared, I get crazy. I don't like the idea of dying alone. He's trying to bluff me. No, you ever hit the back of a 10-ton truck at 80 miles an hour? No, smart guy. Well, you're going to a smart guy because there's one right in front of us. And his eyes are way from me and saw the back of the truck rooming up suddenly in the dust. For a minute's fear paralyzed him. Then he gave a wild shrink and opened the door and jumped. He made the wheel hard and the car missed the truck by inches. The coal didn't. His leap had smashed him right into the back of it. I felt my heart kicking up at something in my throat. I turned the car around and drove back to the burly queue review at 15 miles an hour. Right of running, Kay? Yeah. Tired. Rosman isn't going to get off that train. The gang will be picked up, too. I know. I just had a phone call from Martin. They had Cullum in the third. He made me feel like it was rotten. I did it because I had to. Your husband wasn't going to let you enjoy the comforts of life while he rotted away in jail, was that it? Yes. Let me take the radio job because he thought he might be able to buy his way out with the money. Out of a federal pen? He was dreaming. I'm glad it's over. He had cruel in the other boys watching me. He told me to keep me working in Burlesque. Make things rough for me. So I'd never forget what a bad time he was having. I'd better call the police, Kay. You don't have to, Mr. Dollar. I called him myself two minutes ago. I'm just waiting. Okay. You've seen the farewell performance. Now, why don't you leave me alone? Please. Oh, Mr. Dollar. Oh, hello. I heard the terrible news about Mr. Waltz and such a terrible thing. Yeah. I know you worked for him. I know how badly you must feel it. Tell me something. Are you taking over the business? Well, you've been looking for the people for that show. I'll let you know. Is Valerie around? In the manager's office. Just over there. Mr. Crowley's office. You know Mr. Crowley? Yeah. I met him around a couple of times. Thanks. Hello, Valerie. You. Where's Crowley? I don't know for sure. Maybe out in the highway. Maybe in the morgue by now. The morgue? His hunting license expired. You lost your boyfriend. He was nothing to me. No? Then why did you follow me to Cullen's house and then tip him off that I was there? How about what you're talking about? Let's try something else then. You went to New York with him when he killed Waltham. But you took different planes coming back. So he killed Waltham and now he's dead. What does that make me? An accessory. No. No, look. Listen to me, Mr. Crowley. I didn't know what he was going to do. I didn't even know why he was going to see Waltham. First I knew it was trouble was when I was sitting in the outer office and I heard them yelling and then I heard a shot. You mean Crowley was in the private office with Waltham? You didn't see them together? I couldn't. The door was closed. Too bad you heard that shot then. Because it makes you sound like a liar. Waltham's private office was completely soundproof. Oh, sure, sure. You're a nice peaceful girl, all right? We'll be here soon with a wagon. We'd better put something on so you don't catch cold. And that's about it for the bump and grind artists. Lou Waltham never ensured himself because he had nobody to leave it to, so there's no loss there. Of course, the K Bellamy policy was never issued. You lose a fat premium, but don't fret over it. Clause 42A would have cost you a mint, the one about missing performances. She'll be missing them for the next 10 years. I guess your total loss lies in my expense account. Item 8, $43 miscellaneous. Item 9, $6.10 train fare from Boston back to Hartford, Connecticut. Please note that I did not charge you for the admission pass that Waltham gave me to the burly queue review, nor did I charge you cab fare from the Cullen mansion to town. Since Crawl provided car service. Expense account total $135.40. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Stars John Lund in the title role and was written by Joel Murcott with music by Eddie Dunstetter. John Lund can currently be seen in the Universal International Picture just across the street. Featured in tonight's cast were Raymond Burr, Benny Rubin, J. Novello, Gene Bates, High Everback, Sandra Gould, and Gloria Blondel. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Transcribed in Hollywood by Jaime Delvalle. News of CBS Radio Network.