 Suspense. Radio's outstanding theatre of thrills brings you an hour, a full 60 minutes of suspense. Tonight, our stars, Miss Helen Walker and Mr. John Beale. Our story, Deadline at Dawn by William Irish. A suspense play produced and directed by Anton M. Leeder. If you've ever been alone in a strange big city, you know the haunting loneliness of it. And you know how the sight of a familiar face, the sound of a familiar voice can lift your spirit high. Even a stranger who comes from your hometown becomes a long lost friend because he brings with him a breath of home, a flood of memories. That was the emotion that drew Brickie Coleman and Quinn Williams together. But their meeting wasn't the joyful happy kind, for it was the beginning of longing and fear and danger. And now, with the performances of Helen Walker as Brickie Coleman and John Beale as Quinn Williams and with William Irish's great story, Deadline at Dawn, we again hope to keep you in suspense. Until I met him, men were just pink dance tickets to me. They were just two and a half cents worth of commission on the dime. Peers of feet that kept crowding mine all over the map, all over the floor, all over the night. They were blank faces that could steer me any way they wanted until their five minutes were up. Because I was a New York taxi dancer until I met him. A girl from a small town caught and held fast in the big city with all her dreams forgotten and all her hopes gone and not caring anymore, not caring at all until I met him. They always dimmed the lights for the last dance, just to make the customers feel sentimental about it all. At one in the morning I was through again for the day. I'd put on my coat, go out the side door, walk past the sad sacks that thought they were wolves and loitered on the sidewalk, and then I'd begin the 20 blocks to home. Home was a filthy old brownstone down near the river. The long smiths and old army cot that was home. But at least it was a place where I could get out of my shoes and make some coffee and sleep to forget. I'd get home about 1.30. You left your door open. So I left my door open? Did you think that was an invitation to walk in? You better close it now. Hey, listen here. Close it. Please. You're a burglar. He won't find anything. The rats got here first. I am a burglar. Well then you're a very smart one. What are you looking for? Coffee grounds? I wasn't looking for anything. Then why don't you go please? Find a nice rich old lady to rob. Look, I need a place to stay for a while. I thought maybe you would let me... What? Stay here? Oh, a guy don't hand out favors. You're nothing to me. I know. It was just a hunch I had. The way you were looking at me. I thought I could come here for help. The way I was looking? I've never seen you before in my life. Well, you were looking straight at me. At the dance hall about an hour ago. You mean you were at the Cinderella ballroom tonight? Don't you remember me? No. Well, that's funny. It's not funny at all. You all look the same to me. Namely horrible. I guess it's my mistake. But I was sure. You seemed so... so nice. Did I? Yeah. That's because I was thinking of home. I always do that on the job. Makes the night go faster. I guess I know what you mean. What you do? Follow me? No. The man at the door gave me your address for a dollar. Oh, he did, did he? Yeah, I wanted to get off the streets. This time of night the cops are curious. I thought I saw one of them following me, so I beat it down this hall to hide. That's when I found your door open. You picked a good place for hiding. Nobody ever comes here but the landlady. Once a month. Please let me stay a while. Please. What's your name? Quinn Williams. Quinn? Yeah. Never heard that name before. It used to be my mother's before she got married. I see. What do you say? You want some coffee, Quinn? Thanks. Thanks. But get this straight. One cup of coffee and nothing more. No sugar goes with it. You give me one blink too many. Just coffee, I understand. A man can tell by looking at a girl whether she means one thing or another. You'd be surprised how many of them ought to have an optician. I know. Give me a match for the oven. Here you are. I got the oven lit and reached down some cups and sauces and watched him. Not that I was worried. I wouldn't have closed the door if I hadn't thought I could handle him. It was only that he was so young and his face was so tight and strained. He'd been beat by the city. Must have been like taking candy away from a baby. And he trusted me because I'd smiled at him while I was dancing. And he thought that smile was for him. I wished it was all of a sudden because he was different. The coffee won't be long. That's all right. I'm in no hurry. You're pretty young for a burglar, aren't you? It doesn't take much training. Where'd you come from and how did it happen? Oh, I come from a little town. It's nothing much, but I like it. I'm a hick myself. My place is Glen Falls, Iowa. What's yours? What's the matter? Nothing. Oh, I thought I said something wrong. No, you said something right. It's crazy, a crazy coincidence, but I come from Glen Falls, too. Honest. Honest. Well, that's amazing. I know it is. What street did you live on? And it's enough near Pine Street, the second house down between Pine and Old. When we're neighbors, I live just across the street from you. Well, how is it we never met? I don't know. I came here five years ago. Oh, I've been here a year. You must have come to New York before we moved in. Sure. Wait a minute. Have you got a brother with a lot of freckles? Yeah, Johnny, he's just a kid about 18. My sister's been writing to me about her new boyfriend, a boy named Williams. How perfect he is except for the freckles, and of course they'll wear off. Well, that's Johnny. Ah, so you're the boy next door. Well, we'd probably have known each other very well if you'd stayed home. I know. I wish you had stayed. I do, too. What's your name? Ruth Coleman. Everybody at home calls me Bricky. They started it because I... I know, because of your hair, huh? That's right. Do you ever feel that you want to go back? Every day. There's a bus leaves New York every morning at six. I know, I've been quiet. I've got the fare sewed up in my mattress. Why haven't you gone? Because my mother thinks I'm dancing in a Broadway show because I'd be too ashamed because it's so hard to go back. Yeah, but you ought to go, Bricky. This morning at six o'clock... You ought to go back. Hard going back alone. If someone could come with me, would you come home, too, Quinn? No, I'm Bricky. You want to escape from the city, don't you? Just like me, you want to go back? Well, then come with me. If it's the fare you're worried about, I've got enough for both of us, including a good dinner in Chicago. Anything for the boy next door, Quinn. Thanks, Bricky, but it's too late. The police will be looking for me around eight o'clock this morning. I forgot. How long have you been a burglar? About three hours. Three hours? I did it tonight for the first time. So you see, Bricky, it's a little too late for me to go back. I've missed the bus. About three hours. Coffee's ready, Quinn. Good. Cream and sugar? No, thanks. Black. Was it easy? Very easy. Why'd you do it? You'll do anything when you've gone for four days without eating. But it's funny. After I'd done it, I went straight to the best restaurant in town. I looked at the menu and got ready to order everything on it. Two helpings of everything. All right. I couldn't eat. So I got up and walked out. That's when I began to think cops were trailing me. I'm not used to being a robber. So you still got it all with you? $2,500 in cash. Divided up into small rolls in all my pockets. You want to see it? No. Neither do I. But it's there. I can feel it. Against my skin all over my body. Where did you get it, Quinn? I was working for an electrician about four months ago. One day I got a call to go to a big house on 71st Street and put a fixture in the bathroom wall. I had to cut a big hole in the wall to do it. While I was doing that, I ran into a wooden... a wooden box in the wall. I did my work just beside it. And that box? That box was the back of a safe. Oh. Put into the wall of a study in the next room. The front of the safe was good heavy steel. When they built it, nobody thought it could be broken into from the other side through the bathroom. And nobody ever would have, either, until an electrician ran into it one day by mistake. But all this happened four months ago? Yeah. You see, I'd brought more tools with me than I needed that day, and I left some of them in my bag downstairs on a little table near the front door. And when I got back to the shop, I found a key in the bag. I must have brushed it in while I was putting the tools back after finishing the job. It turned out to be a key to the front door. You didn't return it. I didn't. Oh, I meant to, but right then I forgot all about it. And when I did remember that I had the key, I was out of work and hungry and wanting money badly, so I went back there to my box. I opened that hole again, pulled the back of the safe out. I didn't bother with any of the papers or securities. I just took the cash. The house was empty. The man who lives there, a society fella by the name of Graves, was probably out on the town. So I just walked out the front door. It seems like 10 years ago. It was only three hours. So this Graves man will see the hole in the morning when he goes in to take a shower, and then he'll call the police. It'll be a quick trial and a short one. But the sentence won't be so short. The boy next door. The boy you waved to when you come in or out of your gate. The grinning boy next door, friendly as a puppy. Go back, Bricky. It's where you belong. It's the only kind of life for you. Come with me, Quinn. I've told you I can't. They've got a long arm. They'll find me. And I'd rather have them find me here in the city. Have you still got the key? The key you went in with? Yeah. Why? Well, if you can get back in before he comes home, just in and out long enough to put the money back, they won't come all the way to Iowa for you just for chopping a hole in the wall if nothing's been taken. But, Bricky, that's probably... Don't you want to go home at six o'clock this morning? Yes, Bricky. If he's out on the town, he won't be home yet. At least that's what we'll pray for. We? We'll go together now. I'll wait outside for you and then we'll go down to the terminal and buy our tickets and wait for the bus. We'll wait for Dawn together, Quinn. You mean you'd do this for me? For the boy next door, anytime, anything. There was no time to lose. Graves might be coming home any minute. I ripped the money out of my mattress and we ran out into the cold, empty streets, just as a cab cruised by. We piled into it and told it to take us to 71st Street and to take us fast. Everybody's always in a hurry. What's your hurry? The night's young yet. Never mind the conversation, Joe. Drive. The customer's always right. I just remembered. What? I can't pay for this cab unless I use some of our capital. I don't care what you use, pal. Just so it's money. Don't worry about it. You'll get paid. I'll pay him. We don't want to use any of our capital, not a single penny. It's all got to go back. I'll break him when we get out of this. When we get back home. I'll thank you then. I'll find a way to thank you. 71st Street. Any special number? No, just let us out here on the corner. That's, uh, 90 cents. And I can break a 50 if I have to. Here's 90 cents. And here's a dime. Have fun. Where's the house? Across the street, not the little. You wait here. All right. Don't come any closer than this. I'll be back in no time. Don't be frightened, Bricky. Don't take any chances, Quinn. If you see any lights, if it looks as if he's gotten back already, don't go all the way in. Just drop the money inside the door. All right, Bricky. I waited for him there in the chilly night on the dark, empty street. Why? I knew better. New York had taught me one thing, and that was never to be a sucker for a man. But then, this was no man. This was the boy who lived across from the Onanderson Street in Glen Falls, Iowa. The boy had come here to do big things, to lick the town. And instead, he'd been licked. Instead, he was hiding in the dark, sneaking along the streets. Helpless. The boy next door. Then I suddenly crouched back into a doorway. A patrolman was coming on his tour of duty. He stopped near me, not ten yards away. But his back was to me, and his hand was opening a call box. Morrison reporting in. 2.35 a.m. How's the rummy game going? And another thing, Sid. Quiet as a church. He finished his call, closed the box, and went on down the street. Then he turned a corner and disappeared, and I breathed again. He'd been right, though. It was quiet as a church, and that was wrong, because Quinn should have been back long ago. Bricky. What's the matter? Bricky. Tell me, Quinn, what is it? What is it? He's been in there. He's been killed. He's dead. He's lying in there, dead. Mr. Graves. Oh, Quinn, did you do it the first time you were in there tonight? I swear I didn't, Bricky. I only took the money. He wasn't even there. He must have come back since. I knew you didn't, Quinn. I knew even though I asked. Go down to the terminal. Get your ticket and climb on that bus and forget we ever met. Go on, Bricky. Beat it before they find out. Not without you. But don't you see now it's murder they'll charge me with? They'll find the bathroom, fix your tamper with it, they'll trace it to the electrician, then to me, and they'll naturally think, oh, don't you see it's too late, Bricky? It's never too late. Don't you know that? Not until the last second of the last minute of the last hour. What do you mean? We'll go back in there and see if we can figure it out. It's our only hope. We're fighting for our lives, Quinn, for our lives, and we have until six o'clock this morning to win our fight. All right. Champ. Come on. And so, very slowly, we went together into the place where death was. The door closed down our backs and we felt our way down a long and narrow hallway. He's upstairs. I don't want any lights on down here. Just hang on to my sleeve. I'll lead the way. All right. We went forward in a sort of swimming darkness that was almost liquid. It was so dense. I could feel the muscles in his arms shivering, but he was brave, not afraid. He was going into it, not running away from it. There's a step here. The stair creaked under our weight. I wondered if there were anyone else in the house. Anyone still alive. Suppose someone had slept through the murder or be awakened any moment by us. I'll turn to the right. Okay. We're on the second floor now. I smell the aroma of leather and woodwork. I smell the last lingering trace of a cigar. I smelled powder, a harsh, deadly powder. And then I thought I saw... I thought I smelled something sweet, something very sweet. Yeah, Brickie. All right. They say you can't smell a recent death, but I could smell a stillness and a presence in it that was more than just emptiness. Get your eyes ready. Here, go the lights. The dead man lay in the middle of the study and his face was all out of focus. The lines that had been laugh lines were creases now. The mouth that had been either strong or weak was just a gap now, a place where the face was open. The eyes that had been either kindly or cruel were just glossy, lifeless insects now. This was the dead man, and we'd come for his secret. This is it, Brickie. This is it. Now, what do we do? Well, shouldn't we close his... They seem to be watching us. No, don't touch him. I don't know how to anyway. He's... he's still in his tuxedo. He couldn't have been home very long. No. Can you tell what it was done with? No, I'll have to unbutton his jacket. Go ahead. There it is. Must have been a gun. Yeah, a bullet. It's round and frazzled. A knife would have made it slit. Then we can be sure no one else was in the house or they would have heard it go off. And the killer must have taken the gun away. There's no sign of one lying around. So he didn't do it himself. It can't be suicide. That's right. Now what? We'd better look in his pockets. Yes. I'll do it. You look the things over as a hand them to you. All right, Quinn. I'll start up here in the breast pocket. That's the highest pocket in anybody's suit. His hand, could you? Look, Quinn. The bullet went through this. The way it folded it just made one little hole. But when you open it up, it makes three separate holes. Like when you cut papers and make them into patterns. The one on the left side is empty. The right hand pocket, empty too. Try inside the jacket. Yeah. Take out everything, no matter what it is. Cigarette case, silver, Tiffany's. Three cigarettes in it. The wallet. Two fives and a single. Two ticket stubs from tonight's show at the Bolasco. C 112 and 114. So we know where he was from 830 to 11. Anything else? Business cards. Stafford, Holmes, Inglesby, whoever they are. Oh, and a snapshot. Girl in writing, Toggs. Let's see there. Yeah. It's the same ones in the silver frame over there on the desk. It's a Steven with love from Barbara. Then she didn't do it. If she had, she wouldn't be there on his desk anymore. Just the silver frame maybe, but not her anymore. That's common sense. All right, let's go on. I'll have to lift him a little. Go ahead. Left rear in the trousers. Nothing. Right rear. Spare handkerchief. Left side. Nothing. Right side. Match folder. Some loose change. Latch key. That's it. Not much help. Do we know what we're doing, Bricky? Oh, I don't. Quinn? What? A man who was a cigarette smoker and we found that case in his pocket. Would he go in for cigars, too? Maybe. Some people smoke bullets. But would he smoke two cigars alone by himself? Look, Quinn, two butts in this tray. Yeah. And the tray is between two chairs facing each other. One cigar and one notch of the tray. The other one around on the other side from it. Two people, Quinn. Two men. And they were having an argument. One of them was worked up about something. You see, this butt is smooth at the mouth end. And look at this one. Chewed to ribbons, chewed to a fringe. That tells it. But which is which? Who was calm and who was steamed up? And who was the other man with graves? Oh, Quinn. Wait a minute. Here's something. What? Must have fallen out of his pocket. He was probably sitting on it. Fine. Another book of matches. That just it. Another one. Graves had some on him, so this is the other man. And did he leave his name on it? No, but he was excited. Look how many matches he used up just on that one cigar. That folder could have been half used up before he began. Maybe, but you take this. What does it tell you? It tells me to chew Dawson's gum. Not that cover. Inside. I don't know. What are you driving at? No, wait. Here. Take my matches. Now tear one off. Let's strike it. All right. Okay. Blow it out. You see what you did? No. You tore the match from the right-hand side, didn't you? Yeah. Everybody does. They start on the outside, on the right, and work their way over to the left. But this folder was worked in reverse. Now do you see? The man sitting in this chair facing Graves was left-handed. I see. We're making progress. Are we, Quinn? Well, of course we are. We know this man was rattled about something. That he whittled away 15 matches to one cigar, and then mangled it to ribbons between his teeth. That he was probably on bad terms with Graves, and that he's left-handed. Fine. Only you've missed something. What? The matches belong to a woman. A woman? A woman chopped that cigar into pieces? Smell the folder. What do you get? Soft for the way matches always smell. Now give that a minute to clear away. That's the stronger of the two. It tops the other. Now. Okay. Perfume, isn't it? Yeah. It's been carried around all day in a handbag. A handbag that stinks of perfume. I noticed it in the dark when we were coming in. There's been a woman in this room tonight. Well, that gives us two of them. A man and a woman. And they weren't here together. There are only two chairs, one for Graves and the other one for each of his visitors. Who was the last to go? The man or the woman? I don't know, but we're started. Look what we've dug up in half an hour. Two unidentified people in the biggest city in the world. Oh, you're right. It's no use. Oh, even so. We can't give up. It's no use. And what's more, I... I'm yellow, Bricky. Let's give it up. You're not yellow, Quinn. Or I wouldn't be up here in this room with you. I'd better tell you this while I can, Bricky. What? I love you. Three o'clock, Quinn, and... we have till six. Three hours. Bricky. Save it, Quinn. Save it for the bus when we're on our way home. All right. But I don't know what to do next, do you? No. I don't. What's that? In tonight's full hour of suspense, Helen Walker and John Beale co-star in Deadline at Dawn by William Irish. Tonight's study in suspense. Just a moment, we will return with act two of suspense. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. And now, back to our Hollywood soundstage and act two of Deadline at Dawn, co-starring Miss Helen Walker as Bricky Coleman and Mr. John Beale as Quinn Williams in radio's outstanding theater of thrill, suspense. The emotions of a lifetime have been crowded into one night for Bricky Coleman and Quinn Williams and Dawn is a fast approaching deadline which they must meet. The bus which will take them to home in safety seems remote and unattainable as they stand now over the body of a dead man in the quiet apartment, knowing that they must find his murderer or stand incriminated for the crime themselves. And suddenly, a terrifying sound comes to them. What is it, Bricky? What is it? It sounds like a burglar alarm. Well, the front doorbell, maybe. Wait a minute. There's a box over there against the wall. Telephone. Follow the cord. It's in his desk. In the drawer. What should we do? Well, the answer is... Oh, be careful. You'll have the police here. They'll know it's not his voice. Well, talk low. I'll pretend I'm him. Say a prayer, Bricky. Hello? Darling? No. I don't know. You told me that before. What did you know? Did you? And then you couldn't wait to see me to my door and get me off your hands. Is that why you wanted to get rid of me? No, Barbara. Poor connection. You sound so... I'm sorry. What's going on? Just catching on. I'm sunk. Take your hand away from the mouthpiece and turn it my way. Oh, sugar. Come on. I'm getting tired of waiting. How much longer are you going to stand there talking? I'm sorry, Stephen. Forgive me. You can hang up now. I feel like a heel. Well, stop it. We don't have time. The parakeet. That's a nightclub, isn't it? Yes, on 54th Street. A woman slipped him a note, Quinn. A small woman. Could be. Do you think he tore it up? Maybe not. Maybe he wanted to have a good look at it when he got home alone. Let's look again. Well, I went through those pockets pretty carefully. I'm sure it's not that... You might have missed something, Quinn. Turn him over again. All right. Nothing. Nothing at all. Shall we go through the desk? Wait a minute. What? Run your eyes over him again. I don't see a thing. He's very well-dressed. Yet isn't that a hole in the heel of his sock? There, just showing over the shoe? Well, that's funny. Take his shoe off, Quinn. Okay. The note. Of course. He didn't want Barbara to see it. So he hid it here until he could be alone. And he never was alone. Just a scrawl. Go on. Mr. Graves, I'd like to speak to you in private. After you've taken the young lady home. And I don't mean some other time. I mean tonight. I wouldn't want to be disappointed. That's all. It isn't signed. A woman of the matches. Sounds like a shakedown. You mean blackmail? That's right. He'd have to pay attention to a note like this. Then we're going night clubbing, my boy. We'll visit the parakeet. It'll be closing by now. She must have been seen there. A tall redhead in a light green dress. We'll check with the people who work there. They'll still be around. We'll find her. We'll find her. We will, Brady. How tracer if I have to go over the hairbrushes in the dressing room one by one for stray red hairs. Let me kill the lights. I'll be right with you. Hey, don't forget the switch. The one over the sink in the bathroom. I won't. Come on, Quinn. Time's running out. In a minute. Is anything wrong? I don't know. Look what I found. What? It's a check. Yeah. I went out to Stephen Graves for $12,000 signed by Arthur Holmes. And look how it stamped. Returned. No funds. Where'd you find it? In the dry bottom of the tub. How did it ever get there? Just one way. When I came here tonight, the first time, I did it. How? Well, don't you see when I pulled the cash box out and opened it, the check must have slipped out into the tub without my noticing it. Oh. And then this fellow Holmes came, our jittery cigar smoker, maybe to ask Graves not to prosecute on a bad check, to stall for time. Graves went to find the check, and he couldn't, because it was on the other side of the wall in his bathtub. And Holmes thought he was trying to put something over on him. And you think Holmes shot him, killed him for $12,000? It's been done before. And what about our redhead? Bricky, it's the man. It's gotta be. I think it's the woman. We'll have to split up. No, let's do it together. The way we started. It's too late. We can't follow them one at a time. Our deadline's at dawn, Quinn, and we've got less than three hours. Well, that bust to Glenn falls. The last bust? Remember that. It's the last bust for you. And for me too. And then we'll be saying goodbye, Bricky? Yes, Quinn. Goodbye, till dawn. We went down into the empty streets without talking to other each other again. And I went one way, and Quinn went the other. In ten minutes we were blocks apart, maybe miles. But it seemed to me that I was still at his side, still with him, as he finally found an all-night drugstore and went back into a booth. I knew he'd dial all the Arthur Holmes' in the book and talk to a lot of angry, sleepy people. And then he'd find the right one, the Arthur Holmes we wanted. What would Quinn do then? What would he say? What would happen? Hello? Yes. Is this Mr. Arthur Holmes? Who is this? Well, Mr. Holmes, you don't know me. Who is this? The name isn't known to you, Mr. Holmes, but... What may... I have a check here that belongs to Mr. Holmes. Will you let me talk to him? It's made out to Stephen Graves, and I have it right here in my hand. I found it on the seat of a taxi. It must have slipped out of someone's wallet. Who was with you when you found it? No one, just me, by myself. No one? No one, I swear. That's right. Shall I hang up, Mr. Holmes? Quinn Williams. No, I'm single. I live by myself. Not even a roommate? Nobody, strictly lone wolf. I'd like to. Fair enough. At first, do you know it? I know where it is. It'll do. It's just fine, Mr. Holmes. I'll see. You're a cagey boy, Mr. Holmes, but you swallowed. Good evening, Mr. Holmes. Good evening. Sit down, won't you? Yeah, I will. You're right on time. Sure. So are you. There's a drink for you. I had to order a head so I'd be allowed to stay in here. It's past closing time. Thanks. What's the matter, son? Nothing. It'd just be funny, that's all. Funny and kind of corny, if you'd slipped a little something into this. Take mine, then. I haven't put it to my mouth yet. I think I will. Bottoms up. Bottoms up? My car's around the corner, would you rather talk about it there? Yeah, I would. I think we ought to be alone. That's easy, son. We can be alone. That's enough driving. Pull up. I just thought we'd coast a bit. We can't sit talking at the curb at this hour. We'll have a cop down on us sticking his nose into the car. What's wrong with that? I don't know. Do you? I was asking you. However, if you want to pull up... The East River. A mighty mysterious place at this time of day. You're pretty close to the edge, aren't you? The wheels are blocked. You're not nervous, are you? No, I'm not. No, about that check. I didn't find that check in a cab, Mr. Holmes. I found it in Stephen Graves' house. Where he's lying right now on the floor. Dead. Stephen dead. And your cigar is still in the room with him. Chewed to a pop. A corona, like the one you're smoking right now. You should have taken it with you, Mr. Holmes. After you'd killed him. You seem to know a good deal about this. A little. Just enough to know who the killer is. I feel a little sorry for you. I didn't know you were as young as you are over the phone. What have I got to do with it? You're having a lot of trouble with your eyes, aren't you? Lights on the dashboard have got rings around them, haven't they? Like big soap bubbles. What are you talking about? Say, you talked too much. You've talked yourself into the grave. I would have believed you about finding that check in a taxi. You would have gone to sleep in the car. And when you woke up, you wouldn't have the check on you anymore. But you'd have had a $10 bill in your pocket, too. Sugarcoat, the experience. Head weighs too much, doesn't it? Too heavy for your neck. My head. You should have stuck to your own drink, son. You were suspicious, but not suspicious enough. You took the wrong glass. Me, I'm a chess player. You know what chess is? It's figuring out your opponent's move before he makes it. That's a funny thing. Away my head. Like a solid rock. You're going to sleep here in the car. Then you're going into the river without a mark on you. But I'll take the check before I dump you. It's probably in your shoe. It's about where your type of youngster would think was a clever hiding place for it. Just clear my head and then kick it. Trying to kick out the glass, son. You haven't the strength of a kick left in you. No, it's all over. That's water in front of us. That even black line, you see? Right over the hubcap. I can't even move, can you? That's right. Make a lazy pass with your hand like you're brushing away flies. That's about all you're able to do. In a minute, you won't even be able to do that. There go your eyes. Down, down, down. You won't get away with this, mister. Bricky nose. There are two of us. Not just one. And so I walked away from Quinn and I was alone again. I'd met him only a few hours before. With him I'd met my past and my home and everything I loved and wanted. And now I was alone again. Somewhere in this sleeping city Quinn was after his man. And I was after my woman, my redhead, my long-stemmed American beauty. The nightclub parakeet was dead. Dead but not quite cold. Just in the process of giving up the ghost. Every other minute a solitary figure would come out and walk away. Someone who earned a living inside. This was the five o'clock in the afternoon of the nightclub workers. Whose clock goes in the opposite direction to that of the rest of the world. And what did I have to go on? A redhead blackmailer who had quickly scribbled a note to a man. And that kind of woman doesn't ordinarily carry around pencil and paper in a purse. She sends messages with her eyes and her hips. If she wants a pencil, she's got to borrow it from the help. Excuse me. What's the matter? You work here don't you? I'm in the check room till something better turns up. Why? I wondered, did my friend in a light green dress or a redhead, did she borrow a pencil from you tonight? It works the other way around honey. Look out their pencils and give me names and addresses and telephone numbers. I got a fistful. Didn't a woman? It's no dice honey. I don't even see any women in my stall. Oh. My feet swell up all the time. You want to try out some salts. Water is hot as you can stand. Excuse me. Well, my name's Jerry. But don't let the name stand in your way. I'm looking for my friend, a redhead in a light green dress. Did she borrow a pencil from you tonight? Not at my end of the bar. How about it Frank? Sure. Joan Bassett. About midnight. She's always borrowing something. And forgetting to give it back. How that girl forgets. That's the way Joni is. Do you know where I can find her? Well, try to concord. That was the last address. But she's probably moved by now. Thanks fellas. Can't I do anything for you? Another time Jerry. Okay, that's a promise. Another time. What can I do for you? Don't be friendly Pop. Say hello. Hello. That's better. What do you want? A room? We're full up. What room's my girlfriend got? I want to run up and tell her something. You know, Joni. Joan Bassett? Yeah, Joan Bassett. Only we don't have to be so formal. She's in 409 sugar. Wait a minute. I'll try it. I'll skip that. She don't have to put on no ears with me. Who's she kidding? I know she's two weeks behind. No rent. All right. If you know that. Well, going up. What do you want? You. I want to talk to you. We'll just stand out there a minute and tell me what about. We got a friend in common, you and I. It's possible. Go on. This friend's name is Stephen Graves. Stephen. Uh, suppose you come in a minute. I'll hear what's on your mind. Sure. I thought that might do it. Do you have to lock the door? Yeah, I think I do. Whatever you think best. Begin with your name. You can put me down as Carolyn Miller. All right, Carolyn Miller. Now about Stephen Graves. What makes you think I know him? Stop being polite. You know him. Did he mention me to you? No. He wasn't doing any mentioning of anybody. He wasn't doing anything. You've been over to see him lately? Very lately. I just came from there now. How did you find him? I found him dead. I see. That tap in the kitchen is loose again. Excuse me a minute while I tighten it. I'd known we weren't alone the moment I came into that room. And I knew that faucet in the kitchen was a signal for a quick conference. It was my chance. Maybe I had a minute, maybe only 30 seconds. There was only time for one thing, the open handbag on the dresser. Nothing there. Lipstick. Powder. Usual junk. And then an unpaid hotel bill for $17.89 from this place that conquered. No good worthless and my time was up. Yet something screamed at me to hold on to it, to slip it inside my stocking high up and to get back into my chair. Where were we? With Steven Graves. Oh, yeah. Did you go up there alone or did you have somebody with you? Alone. I don't take my grandmother with me when I'm visiting. I see. Somebody stop you at the door and tell you that how you found out? Cops and people hanging around, lots of excitement. No one knows it. I found him alone. I had a key to the house that he'd given me. I went up and there he was. Dead. What'd you do? Holler bloody murder and bring everyone down the place? I got out of there fast and quiet. I don't want to be mixed up in it. Smart girl. And all this happened just a little while ago, huh? Yeah. Nobody knows yet but you? Me and you. Did you come here alone? All alone. Everything I do, I do alone. I guess I've hit the jackpot. Yeah, you sure have, baby. You've hit it hard. Make it tight, Griff. So she can't make any noise. It's tight. Don't worry about that. Well, Miss Carol and Mellor, you're in trouble now. You tell her. So Stephen Graves is dead and you fell a little nosy about it, huh? You wanted the details. All right, you can have them. You seemed to have known him pretty well. Maybe he told you, did he? Did he tell you about his kid brother who married a tavern hostess back in Boston? Did he tell you what that did to the fine old family name when this girl began asking for money? When she came to New York and began asking Stephen for money? Did he tell you that he paid and paid and finally decided to stop paying so this girl and her friend had to pay him a little visit tonight to try to persuade him? Did he tell you that? Did he tell you what happened when he couldn't be persuaded? No, he didn't tell you that because he wasn't talking by then. By then he was dead. That's enough. You want to spend the night at it? All right. Well, what's the play now? Don't you figure we ought to... No, not here in the room. That's begging for it. You don't understand. I don't mean chop-chop, that kind of stuff. I mean, we have four flights up. That ought to be enough. Three of us get the drinking up here. She goes over to the window to try to open it for a little air and get jams. So she's got to push it. Oh, there's always a follow-up. It's a little messy. Let me take care of this. Yeah, like you took care of the other. When I told you just to throw a scare into him, he'd come across. Huh. Well, some scare you threw at him, Griff. Yeah, he scared him right out of his skin, right out of his hide. Well, I don't want you to be so impulsive this time. Well, then let's blow. We'll stuff her in the closet. It backs up against the dead wall, so she'll never be hurt. It'll be days before they get around to bustin' the door down. Yeah, we'll be far away by then. Yeah, far away. Okay, I can pack in ten minutes. Yes, I'll give you a hand. Hey, what... Wait a minute. I'm missing that hotel bill. It must have fallen somewhere on the floor. Don't worry about that. He can make up a new one for you down at the desk. Oh, yeah, sure, that's right. Well, shall we get her out of the way first? Yeah. Hang Carol and Miller in the closet. Oopsy-daisy. Make her comfortable, Griff. Sure. We want to be extra nice to her, because there's a little fresh air in there. Yeah, there'll only be a minute. Griff. Yeah, what's a minute? Put her down. What do you mean? Put her down quick. I ought to have my head examined. You mean you slipped on something? Yeah, forgot. We both clean forgot. What was it that tipped her off to me? She didn't pull my name and address out of a hat? Yeah. Take that gag off her. You try to scream and I'll dent you. I won't scream. Now talk. How'd you know I knew him? How'd you know where to find me? I'm gonna let you have it, and I'm gonna keep letting you have it until the answer. You dropped your hotel bill over there. I found it lying in the room with him. I ought to slap you down to the source of your feet. You left your calling card. That's what you did. No, she's lying. I swear I sought my handbag after I got back. Did you take it out to show him? My answer made, did you? Sure. While you were waiting downstairs, it was part of the build-up to show him how bad I needed money, but I know I put it back again. You think you know? Well, I... Oh, I'm almost positive. It fell out. It was for $17.89. It had past you stamped on it in purple ink. It even had your room number on it. Now what did you do with it? Did you bring it with you? I left it where it was. I was afraid to touch anything. We'll have to go back and get it. All right, we will. We'll take her with us. Fix it and look like she did it to him. What you want to do in the first place, Griff. Why don't you do it over there? Give him a double header to figure out. Maybe. Oh, it's the only way. We're about this detour by finishing her off where she started from. All right. Come on, Carolyn Miller. We're going for a little ride. And so I went back into Stephen Graves' house for the second time that night. They pushed me ahead of them in the darkness, whispering to each other not to use any lights yet, just as Quinn and I had done a few hours before. All was it a few years before. Then we were in the study, and the lights were snapped on, and the dead man was still on the floor. And nobody stepped forward to say, Brickie, is that you? He wasn't there. Quinn wasn't there waiting to help me, to save me. Now, let's do what we have to do and get out first. No, not yet. There's something else first. Well, you... Where is it? Where is that hotel bill? Where'd you say you saw it? Over there by him is where I said... What? And you believed me. Then you didn't... You lied. I lied. Where is it? Where have you got it? That's your little problem. Let me have that gun. I'll do it. Here it is, Griff. Get away from him. Move over. Stand still, Carolyn Miller. I want to come real close. I want them to worry about whether it's suicide. Yes, Griff. I'll stand still. Good girl, Carolyn. Good girl. It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all. And I opened my eyes to find out why. Griff stood in the middle of the room, his face contorted, an arm squeezing hard around his neck. And behind his face was another face, a face I knew, Quinn's face, the boy next door fighting for me, fighting to save me. Then Quinn went down, all lopsided, and Quinn was on top, punching at him again and again, and John was racing across the room with an ender and raising a hand. I never played football as a little girl, but on this night I decided it was time to try. Ricky, darling, are you all right? Somebody's ringing church bells in my head. Oh, you knocked yourself out with that flying tackle. Quinn. Quinn, what happened? Nothing. Yeah, they're both asleep, Ricky. Their sounds can be. I see you've wrapped them up nicely. Yeah, I had to tear up a few good sheets to do it, but I don't think Mr. Graves would have minded. I'd given up, Quinn. I thought I'd beat you back here and I... I'd given up. Oh, Ricky. I saw them coming in with you outside on the street. I was watching from one of the front windows, and something about the way you were walking between them sort of stiff told me they had a gun on you. So I backed up into the bathroom and laid low. They're the ones, Quinn. They did it. I know. And we can go now. It's a quarter to six. We can catch that bus for home. There's one more thing to be done, Ricky. It'll only take a minute. And then you and I aren't gonna have any more to worry about. Is this a police? I want to report a murder. Quinn? Stephen Graves in his home on East 71st Street. There are two people tied up in the same room with the body, and they're the killers. You'll find a special delivery letter in the desk from Graves' younger brother, and that'll tell you the reason for the killing. What? No, this isn't any rib. I wish it was. Me? Just a guy who happened to be passing by. We can take their car. He left his keys in it. Come on, Quinn, hurry. We'll make it. Don't you worry, Ricky. I'm not worried. I know we will. What happened to you tonight? Did you find Holmes? Yeah. And? And he tried to kill me. Quinn? It was your name that saved me, Ricky. I called out your name and told him you were in on this with me, and he changed his mind in a hurry. Then we saved each other. That's right. What about the cheque? How did it figure? Well, Holmes was caught short when he wrote that cheque, and Graves got sore when the bank returned it. They talked it over tonight, and it ended up with Graves giving him another day to raise the money. The reason Holmes was so jittery was that the cheque seemed to have disappeared. He didn't know what Graves might be pulling, and of course Graves wasn't pulling anything with that cheque lying in the bottom of his bathtub. You told Holmes how it got there? Yeah. And look what I've got. $200, Quinn? No, I didn't steal it. After he decided he wouldn't kill me, Holmes and I got very chummy. He said we'd both made a mistake in the same night. Me breaking into a safe and him with his bad cheque. He'd slipped me a pill earlier in the evening, and now he was walking me around to sober me up. That's when he gave me the money. A nest egg for me, he said. I could send it back to him a little at a time later on. We'll send it back, Quinn. We, Bricky? We're in this together, aren't we? Yes, Bricky, we are. Oh, look, Quinn, we made it. We're in time. The bus is still there. Come on, Bricky. Let's go on home. To Helen Walker and John Beale for your truly wonderful performances as Bricky and Quinn. And to Lillian Byer, Rye Billsbury, Edith Tachner, Buddy Gray, and Bill Johnstone. Thanks for your splendid support. With this performance, suspense leaves the air for a short vacation period. We will return on Thursday at 9 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time, starting Thursday, July 8th, with an outstanding series of gripping suspense stories featuring the acting of your favorite stars of the screen. Watch for the new suspense series starting Thursday, July 8th. Ms. Helen Walker may soon be seen in My Dear Secretary, and Mr. John Beale will soon be seen in Paramount's Abigail Dearheart. Deadline at Dawn by William Irish was adapted for radio by Irving Ravich and was produced and directed by Anton M. Lieder. Lud Glaskin is our musical director and conductor. Lucian Marowak composes the original scores. Be sure to watch for the new half-hour series of radio's outstanding Theater of Thrills