 Suspense, and the producer of radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, the master of mystery and adventure, William M. Robson. In spite of the sometimes discouraging evidence to the contrary, crime really doesn't pay. The chaser of the fast buck always slips upon a banana peel of retribution and ends up with his nose to the grindstone of penal servitude, if we may be permitted to mangle a metaphor. Upon this moral precept hangs a tale which you are about to hear. Listen, listen then as Jackie Cooper stars in The Amateur, which begins in just a moment. This is Frank Knight speaking for the world's most honored watch, Lone Jean. The name Lone Jean on the dial of a watch is an accepted symbol of excellence. Decade after decade for almost a century, Lone Jean watches have maintained this enviable position of leadership, winning highest honors for excellence, elegance and accuracy in public competitions against the best of the world's watches. To wear a Lone Jean watch marks a person of good taste and good judgment as well, for like all things of finest quality, a Lone Jean is in the long run the most economical. Amazingly you may own or proudly give a Lone Jean watch for as little as seventy-five dollars. A Lone Jean, the world's most honored watch, styled with distinction cased in precious metal, promising a lifetime of faultless timekeeping. And here is a suggestion, for mother on mother's day, why not a Lone Jean watch? Your authorized Lone Jean with no jeweler will be honored to serve you. And now, the amateur, starring Mr. Jackie Cooper. A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense. You see, me and Boots always been buddies, right Boots? Right, Jerry. And you know, we're always looking for an easy way to a fast buck, so when this here thing happens, well, I mean, we ain't exactly amateurs, you know. So it gives us the idea. It happened last Tuesday night. Me and Boots had been down a pool hall shooting a few, and long about eleven o'clock, we catch the bus uptown. Boots lives about ten blocks north of me, so I'm hopping off the bus before him. I see you, Boots. Right. Take it easy, Jerry. I call you tomorrow. Right. It's about a half a block from the bus stop to my castle. Nothing but a basement apartment and one of them brownstone buildings, you understand, but it's my castle. Well, I'm almost to my steps. When I see this new guy come running along the other side of the street, all of a sudden he cuts across toward me, and a car comes out of nowhere, hits the guy, and clobbers him flat against the brownstone wall, almost at my doorstep. Then it backs off, and it's out of sight before I can breathe twice. Hey, you all right, mister? Hey, fella? The guy was dead. What happened down there? A hit and run. I'm called the police. Okay. All right, stand back, everybody, and I don't touch nothing until the law gets here. What did he come from? The neighborhood was turning out like it was a block party or something. I guess when a thing like this happens, you can't keep them away. Curiosity, maybe a little sympathy on them. Anyway, about five minutes later, up comes the cops. All right, all right, come on. Move back. Now, stand back. Anybody see this happening? Yeah, I did. I saw the whole thing. Yeah, what's your name? Malloy, Jerry Malloy. You get the license number? No. Well, I mean, see, I seen this guy running down the street, and then he cuts across like he was trying to get to me or something, and his car comes along and pow. Know what kind of a car it was? Oh, a big one, a caddy, maybe. You get a look at the driver? No. And you don't know whether it was a man or a woman? Well, he goes on asking questions, and the more he asks, the less I seem to know about it. The fatigues from one of the dailies arrive, and it's flashing all over the place. They even take my picture. Why, I don't know. But finally, the wagon takes the poor guy away, and the neighborhood goes back to bed. I take off too, and I go down the steps to the castle when right in front of my door, my foot hits something. There, lying at my feet, is this here license plate, see? Kind of beat up-like. I pick it up, and sure enough, there's blood on it. In a moment, we continue with the second act of suspense. What are the little-known facts behind the unflattering page one headlines about Bing Crosby's boys? Who do they blame for all the criticism that's been coming their way lately? How do Bing's four sons feel about their strict toe-of-the-line upbringing? Are they doing anything to live their own lives successfully without benefit of their famous father? In May, McCall's magazine got the answers to these questions in a revealing Frank story about the private life problems of Bing and his boys. Also in May, McCall's found out about the immensely powerful woman behind the throne of England, Marina, Duchess of Kent. Learn how her influence resulted in Queen Elizabeth's marriage to Philip. Ended Princess Margaret's romance, prevented a great court scandal. Get exciting May, McCall's on all new stands now. And now, starting Mr. Jackie Cooper, act two of The Amateur. Well, there's no doubt in my mind that this here plate bounced off that car that clobbered the poor guy in a street. My first impulse was to hightail it down to the police station, turn in the evidence, but I decided to call my buddy first and tell him about all the excitement and see if he'll go with me. Boots says to stay put, he'll be right over. And you seen it all, Jerry? Yeah. The cops don't know about the license plate, huh? No, no, of course not, you're dope. I found it after everybody had gone. But it was a big car, huh? A Caddy, maybe? I think so. It all happens so quick. But it was a big-looking car. Kind of prosperous. Oh yeah, yeah, I'm sure of that. Did you get a look at the driver? Look, Boots, the cops already asked me all that. Come on, let's go. Oh, wait a minute, Jerry. I got an idea. Like what? Well, I've been thinking about it since you called me. We might be able to promote ourselves a little dough. Dough? Big car? Rich man, maybe. Rich enough to want to buy his way out of a hit-and-run rap. You mean blackmail a guy? No, no, not blackmail. Just a sale. We got something he'd be money glad to have. We sell it to him. The deal's closed. I don't know. This is evidence. We ought to take it to the cops. If he's just rich, it's ought to be worth a couple of grand to him. If he's important, oh, maybe ten. It's blood money in a way, kind of. But if he's important and rich, who knows? We might be set to spend the winter in Florida, Jerry. Get us a couple of dolls. But boots, listen. Then we'll spend the summer in Europe. Then French babes, ooh-la-la. Uh, how are we going to find out who he is? Trace the plate. Not only are the cops can do that. I got a friend, Andy. He can find out for us. Suppose he gets suspicious. No, not Andy. Look, let me handle it, huh? Don't go to the cops till we have a chance to see if it works, okay? Well, okay. We're going to be up there, Jerry. Them little jobs we pulled from time to time, peanuts compared to this. Yeah, but they were safe. You want to be an amateur all your life? This will make a pro out of you. Set us up for a good long time. Well, okay. That's the boy. I'll drop around the garage tomorrow after I talk to Andy, okay? Yeah, yeah, okay. Morning comes and I take off for work at the garage in 85th Street. I'm on my way to the bus when I pass the newsstand at the corner. And there I am, staring right back at myself from the morning papers. Right on the front page, my picture. I buy a couple of papers and hop to bus downtown. I'm shaking with excitement. Me on the front page. There's a story about the guy being clobbered in front of my place. An unidentified victim in the paper says, but they got me pictured for being the eyewitness. First to arrive on that scene, it says. And then it goes on about me seeing it and where I live, where I work and all. I don't even remember telling them all that. But boy, the picture sure came out good. Well, I get to the garage and I'm a celebrity. All the guys have seen a paper and a boss says it's a thousand bucks worth of advertising for the garage. And he tells me to take the day off. So I'm just about to leave and go see Boots when there's a call for me. So I take it in the office and it's this guy. Hello, Mr. Maloy. Yeah? I read a tragedy on 110th Street last night. Who are you, a reporter? Engine. I told the cops all I know, which was a munch. The paper says you... Yeah, that's right. Hey, what is this? I'll come right to the point, Mr. Maloy. I was wondering if... What do you mean? Something I might be interested... Maybe? You know it's missing, huh? Yeah. I got the day off. I'll pick you. Make it one o'clock. Corner of Broadway in 96th. I'll be there. Okay. One o'clock. I'll record. Things was happening even faster than we could have planned. I wanted to give myself time to see Boots and talk it over with him. It's great. Great. Right in our laps. Maybe. Now, don't take the plague with you. Talk terms first. Size him up. Yeah. Yeah, you sounded kind of educated. Or high-class like. Yeah, he's probably a millionaire and scared silly about a hidden run rap. Now, play it cagey. You got him right in the palm of your hand. Remember, he looked you up so he's scared. You can make your own deal. Yeah. I'll wait for you down the pool hall. Okay. Okay, I'll see you there since I'm finished. At a quarter to one, I'm waiting on a corner in 96th and Broadway. About five minutes to one, a big green caddy drives around a corner and goes on down Broadway. I'm wondering if that can be the guy when, sure enough, comes around a block again, stops, and a well-dressed guy at the wheel opens the door. Mr. Maloy. Yeah. Get in. I wanted to be sure it was you before I stopped. It's me. What's your name? Edward Keller. We'll take Riverside Drive, the traffic's light, and I prefer to keep my mind on business rather than traffic. Okay, by me. He's not a bad-looking guy, about 45, maybe dressed at a teeth, and sort of a high-class look about him. I feel sort of shabby next to him in spite of him wearing my best suit, but I got the upper hand no matter what. While we hit Riverside Drive, traffic pins out, and he looks over at me. I took a long chance you might have found what I want. Kind of coincidental, ain't it? Quite. I may as well be frank, Maloy. If the police had found that, it could have put me in a very serious position. You're telling me? But as it turned out, you found it and kept your mouth shut. I'm willing to pay for that service and for your silence afterwards, of course. Sure. Package deal. Package deal. I, uh, I'm wondering, though, how come you thought I had it? You were the first one to reach the victim. Yeah. And the newspaper story made no mention of the police finding it. Fat chance. Landed right in front of my door. It's almost incredible. I don't know. You hit him pretty hard. I what? You really clobbered that guy. I mean, it's a wonder you lose a friend or two. What are you talking about? The accident. Your license plate. You're not making sense. Who are you? You trying to back down or something? I don't know what your dodge is, Maloy, but don't... Now it's not any dodging. You are. You want to buy back your license plate or don't you? I'm not interested in any license plate. I want that $100,000 worth of heroin the man was carrying. In a moment, we continue with the third act of... Suspense. Sociable, up-to-date, debonair. What's this? A new word game? Now I'm just mentioning the qualities that people admire in other people. Oh, I see. If you're sociable, up-to-date. And what was that other word? Debonair? Yes, debonair. But listen to it this way. Stay sociable, have a Pepsi. Notice how many of your friends are serving Pepsi Cola these days. It's the up-to-date refreshment. Be sociable, serve Pepsi. Mr. Jackie Cooper, act three of the amateur. Well, I'm sitting there like I'm turned to stone or something. Heroin. This caper was getting too hot for me. He pulls up to the curb and stops the car. All right, Malloy, we can cut out the cat and mouse routine. Now wait a minute. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you ain't the guy driving that car, isn't it? I'll ask the questions. But I thought you... I'm not interested in what you thought I want that packet. Will you listen to me for a minute? I don't know nothing about no H or packet or nothing. Malloy, the man who was killed was purchasing that heroin for me. He was carrying it when he was run down. This I don't know nothing about. The police didn't report finding anything on him, and you know as well as I, they would have. Now it adds up, doesn't it? No heroin on Jackie? You the first to reach him? I didn't touch the guy. I swear. You led me to believe on the phone you had it. On my mother's grave, I don't know nothing about her. I found a license plate. I beat up plate. I figured came from the car that hit him. I thought you was the driver and wanted to get the plate back to save your skin from a hit and run ramp. That's quite a story. Look, if I had this stuff, don't you think I'd be boggling with you right this minute? Would I be making up a story about a license plate? Wouldn't I be naming my price for this stuff? Wouldn't I? Well, maybe you would have thought. Now you're looking at the situation from the right angle. If the police didn't find the stuff and if you're telling the truth, it means Jackie wasn't carrying it. Sure. Sure, that's it. And if he wasn't carrying it, he never got it. Well, I got an appointment. I just remembered. I'll catch the subway downtown. Sit still. No, no, I can get back, okay? You'll get back when I'm ready to take you. We start back uptown. This guy's really sore. But not at me. That I'm sure of. When we get to 106th Street, he pulls up in front of an apartment and stops. We're only four blocks from my place. He gets out and motions me to go ahead up. We walk up to steps to a foyer. He rings a bell in a sort of rhythm, like a code or something, and after a couple of seconds, a buzzer opens the door. I'll be taking an elevator to the third floor. And when the door's open, he steps out into a little hall with one door. Calla goes through the same ring of bed and the door opens a crack. I want to see Jacomo. Go ahead. I'll wait. Who was this punk? Never mind. Look, come back later, huh? Come on in, Keller. Take off. The room's dark. Not pitch dark, but gloomy kind. The voice comes from a big fat guy sitting behind a biggest desk I ever seen. Sorry about Jacqui, Keller. I'll bet you are. Who's this? The man who saw Jacqui get hit. Oh. Bringing him here wasn't very wise. I want to get something cleared up. What did you pull on me last night? I don't think I like your tone, Keller. What do you mean? Jacqui didn't have the stuff, all the money on him, and they scraped him off the sidewalk. Oh. How do you explain that? Why ask me? Because I think Jacqui gave you the money, but you didn't give him the heroin. Really, Keller? What do you take me for? Jacqui never showed up last night. What? I was expecting him. As a matter of fact, I inconvenienced myself waiting for him. Then this morning, we read of his demise. I presume he was on his way here when he was hit. Then why didn't he have the money? $100,000 in cash. The papers would surely have latched onto that. Why don't you ask your friend here? Wasn't he the first to reach Jacqui? Now, wait a minute. I'm really annoyed with you, Keller. We've been dealing with each other for years, and you let a punk like this pull the wool over your eyes. You come in here accusing me. Now, take it easy, Jacqui. I don't know nothing about any $100,000. Let me handle this, Keller. If he's got the money, I'll find out my own way. I'm afraid not. It's become my concern now. What do you mean? I mean I can't have a punk like this knowing about my operations here. Take him down to the garage. We'll find out what he did with your money during the ride. Ride? Hey. Hey, you guys kidding or something? Wait a minute, Jacqui. I'm not so sure that's the right way. It is the only way. I have to predict my interests and yours as well if you know what I mean. Use this private elevator. I'll meet you in the garage. All right, Jacqui. But if anything happens before I get that money... You have nothing to worry about, Keller. Nothing at all. Get going. Well, I don't mind saying now I was scared out of my Sunday pants. I didn't have to ask any more questions to know what these birds were up to. These were the real pros. And I knew this Jacqui-mo guy was playing for keeps. Well, the elevator glides through a stop and out we get. The doors close and it goes back up again. I see we're in a small garage with two big jobs parked facing the doors. And then it hits me. I'm seeing a familiar-looking license plate on the rear of the black caddy. Maybe this is my chance. Now, Keller, you got to listen to me. Shut up. Now, listen, that's the car. The black caddy on the left. That's the one. The one what? That's the car I seen run down that pallet yours. What? Believe me. Believe me. I know that license number. And I'll give you 10 to one odd the front plate's gone. You see, it ain't there. Because at this minute, it's behind the bottom drawer of my dresser. Don't you see, I've been leveling with you. Yes. I'm beginning to see a lot of things. Dishmo, Jacqui-mo, with his own car. Look at him dancing a bumper. Uh-oh. Keep out of the way, Maloy. I've got a little matter to take up with Jacqui-mo. But watch out. He's got his goon with him. Why aren't you with the car? Which one, Jacqui-mo? The one you murdered Jacqui with? What? No. No, the other one. Perhaps you'd like to run for it, as Jacqui did. Oh, no, Jacqui-mo. You can take the pumps for rides and squash the flunkies on the sidewalk. But you don't push me over. I am eliminating my middleman, Keller. You're eliminating nothing. I want that 100,000. You won't be needing it. What are you? I've decided not to settle to you anymore. And the nature of our business makes a permanent termination necessary. I think you know what I mean. You fat pig. Get in that car. You fat ratchet. Me! Take it! All three of them were in a heap on the floor and I was in a caddy stop in a motor. I stepped on the gas and I went to the garage doors like a dog through a hoop. And then... Well, you guessed it. I run smack into a police car and I'm never so glad to see cops in all my life. Well, they go in and clean up Jacqui-mo and his playmates, but if you don't think I had some explaining to them, they had me tied up with them ghouls. So I had to get them to take me home where I'd give them the license plate and tell them the whole story. I had to pull the boots and like the buddy he is, he backs me up. But we have to spill a whole thing to the cops to get ourselves out of being connected with the dope pushers. Right, Boots? Right, Jerry. So they're holding us for intent to blackmail, withholding evidence, and I don't know what or. But the mark piece says we'll probably get off easy since we made a clean breast of it and they helped catch them harpies. Hey, by the way, Mac, what are you in for? Suspense. In which Jackie Cooper starred in William M. Robson's production of The Amateur, written by Robert Jiren. In a moment, the names of our supporting players and a word about next week's story of suspense. A young lady by the name of Shahara Zahd kept her audience of one enthralled for a thousand and one nights with one of the longest stories in history. That's a long time to devote to one chronicle, but some of CBS Radio's winning seven weekday dramas have put that record in the shade, entertaining audiences in the millions with many times a thousand and one days of continuing dramatic serials. Each weekday on the CBS Radio Network, there's a wealth of daytime drama, including such outstanding serials as The Romance of Helen Trent, The Couple Next Door, Ma Perkins, Whispering Streets, The Right to Happiness, The Second Mrs. Burton, and Young Dr. Malone. Monday through Friday, follow these absorbing true-to-life stories. Only CBS Radio brings you the winning seven combination of top daytime dramas. Another important reason for the different sound of this CBS Radio station. Supporting Jackie Cooper in the amateur were Tommy Cook, Peter Leeds, Barry Kroger, and Norm Alden. Listen. Listen again next week when we return with Ida Lupino and Howard Duff starring in On a Country Road. Another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.