 Sunday at 8.30 and CBS brings you Jeff Regan Investigator starring Frank Graham as Regan with Frank Nelson as Anthony J. Lyon. So stand by for mystery and suspense and adventure in tonight's transcribe story, A Fire for Romano. It started with a little man with deep wrinkles in his forehead and troubles on his mind. Then there was a kid traveling fast in a hot rod. And then there were two women, one who didn't deserve to die but did. And another one who did deserve to die but didn't. It was a sunny, healthy chamber of commerce Tuesday that I wanted into my boss, the lion's office. Got a surprise. No Anthony J. Lyon. Then I remembered he was on vacation. Yeah, this made it look like an even sunnier, healthier Tuesday. See, the beach or the track or... That was before the door opened right behind me. And the aforementioned little man with wrinkles walked in. Mr. Regan? You are Mr. Regan, the detective? Yeah, yeah, yeah I am. Please Mr. Regan, I need your help. Could you help me? I'm afraid I didn't get your name. I am Romano, Elio Romano. Well, sit down Mr. Romano. Thank you. What do you say Mr. Regan? Very nice fit. What's that? Oh, just the chair. It's pretty good. The chair fits? Yeah, yeah, my boss is on vacation. I'm just trying out his chair. Oh, yeah, I see. Suppose you tell me about your problem. You're needing help Mr. Romano. Oh yes, yes Mr. Regan, it's true. I do need help. My store, it's my store. Store? I have a smaller grocery store. It's on 6th Street. It's my own little store and I'm very proud. Romano, what about the store? It's such a nice little place where people are made by food. We got everything, my Maria and I. We are the proprietors of the store. We also own it. Fine, fine. Now what about this? It's called Romano's. We have a big new neon sign. My Samoan is trying to destroy my store. Ah, we're making headway. Tell me about the Samoan. I don't know this Samoan. If I should get my hands on them. Somebody breaks windows? They try to burn it down. They try to burn my store. When? Last week, Thursday. Ah, you call the police? Yes. And then what? Well, they said there was an accident. They said I did this to my own store. My question was, oh, mamma mia. And you're sure it was no accident? Mr. Regan, would I destroy the one thing Maria and I have given our lives to make? Would I so much as a harm a single little glass window? No, I would not. Where'd the fire start? In the back room where the cans are stored. What time of day? Night. It was at night. My Maria and I, we sleep above the store. My Maria smelled the smoke and together we put out the fire before the damage could become great. That's the only time it happened? No, no. The day before that I found a light match in the waste basket. It was just as I was closing for the night. Well, I stopped this one very quick. Two nights in a row. You're right, Romano doesn't look very accidental. Oh, believe me, Mr. Regan. I would never do this to my store. Never, never. Okay, Romano. I believe you. Suppose you and I run out there. Take a look. A little man with a wrinkled brow got in the car beside me and we drove out 6th Street, past Alvarado, past Union. We parked in front of a small grocery store with a big neon sign over the door. Sign said very proudly, Romanos. And my client, Romano, glanced at him, nodded approvingly, and we walked in. Oh, you're back safe. You're a foolish woman. Of course I'm a back safe woman. And this is Mr. Regan the detective. Yes, yes, yes. Mr. Regan, my wife, Maria. You're a very foolish woman. Oh, you're hot. Twice said is too much. How do you do, Mr. Romano? You're the pig of a husband. If you worry about him and he says so, he call you foolish. If you do not worry about him, you say you don't care. Maria, Maria. Mr. Regan is going to help us. He promised he will help us. You told him everything, Elio. Maria, please. Everything, Elio. You promised me you wouldn't tell Mr. Regan everything. See, see. Well? Suppose you tell me, Mr. Romano. Yes, yes, Maria. Suppose you tell me. Elio. Mr. Regan, in the first place, you must know that we do not have much money. See, very little, Mr. Regan. In the second place, you must know we do not have many friends. See, see. Very few. Now, we'll work out the money later, Mr. Romano. Tell me about the friends now. Maria, Maria. We believe certain things, Mr. Regan. We run our business our own way. And no one can tell us otherwise. We believe in being our own boss. That's why you have very few friends? See, that is why. Mr. Regan, please come with me. Right away, I'll show you where the fires start. Please come with me. Romano led me into a small back room behind the counter. There were shelves filled with canned goods and paper cartons. He showed me the waste paper basket near the door. Easy to toss a match in through the window above it that opened onto the alley. There were a few charred pieces of wood here and there, but very little damage had been done. Still, if everything Romano said were true, it didn't look like an accident. It was while he was pointing out the burnt word that a customer came in the front door. I moved over toward the doorway and listened. Well, we'll see about that when I tell my neighbors what I know about them. It was then that things began to get interesting. I looked out. Plump, smug-looking woman carrying a heavy purse, her eyes glaring behind rimless glasses. That's your idea, eh? To force as many people in here as you can? Well, there certainly must be some law against people like you. I just wanted to make sure that's all, and I must say I got what I came for. What was that all about, Mrs. Romano? Oh, Mr. Reagan, you heard. Maria, Maria, what has she said to you? Quiet, Romano. Mr. Reagan is right, Thelio. It was enough. It didn't sound like nothing, Mrs. Romano. What'd she mean by telling my neighbors? No, no, no. We will not talk of it. See, we will talk of it. Mr. Reagan, this woman, this is Mrs. Wilson. She used to be our best customer. Then she turned on us. She tells all her friends not to come to our store. Why? Why? Because... who knows why? You have started it. Now you will finish, Thelio. She does not buy from us because we would not let her tell us how to run our store. See, that's all there is to it? See. How did this start? A week ago. Oh, same time the fires started. See, the same... But, Mr. Reagan, you don't think... You hide me to think, Romano. I'll see you later. Mr. Reagan, where you going? To talk to Mrs. Wilson. If I moved fast, I could find Mrs. Wilson. If I could find her, I could talk to her. She had answers. Plenty of them. Plenty more than the Romanos gave her credit for. Then I saw her, a block away, walking fast. Around the corner, she turned up a walk and disappeared into a two-story apartment house. I was right behind her. The mailbox out front said two awake, and when I got there, the door was just closing. Knock, knock, knock. Yes? Can I talk to you for a minute? Young man, if you're selling something... I'm not selling anything. Then what do you want? Just a couple of questions, Mrs. Wilson, about the Romanos. Oh, so that's your game, is it? You're trying to tell me... I'm not trying to tell you anything. We just better talk now for your own good. You go back and tell those people we don't want them around here. We don't want them in our neighborhood, is that clear? That's as good a place to start as any, and I will just... Oh, no, you don't... You are not coming in without a warrant. I knew you were a policeman right away. They called you those Romanos. Just like them to take advantage of our Constitution. But I know my rights as a citizen. Lady, I've done the... I haven't broken any laws, you understand? It's them that caused all the trouble, them. And we don't want their kind around here. Now, good day! So I had nothing after all. I got in my car, drove down toward police headquarters. I mean, it wasn't that easy. Because behind me, starting at Alvarado, was a yellow model A4. A yellow hot rod, and it wasn't behind me by accident. It stayed there two blocks, ten blocks, twenty. And whoever sat behind the wheel didn't care if I knew it. He stayed that way until we reached our destination. He stayed that way until we reached a block without traffic. And then suddenly, the yellow car gunned up in the rear view mirror. And I could see a young kid hunched angrily over the steering wheel. And there wasn't any doubt about what a kid like that had on his mind or what he was going to do. He moved the car out close, next to mine, and yelled something angry kids yell, and suddenly his yellow coupe shot out of head. Cut into me! I got figured. Tried to run me off the street onto the sidewalk. Now the yellow coupe was just a blur in the distance. I pulled out from the curb, eased into gear, took my time driving to the police station. The police told me to check with the arson squad, and the arson squad told me to check with the sergeant. And to make a rotten day just that much rotten, the sergeant turned out to be a guy I knew, named Bowles. All right, what do you want, Regan? Ah, transferred from homicide, Bowles? I don't need any of your lip today, Regan. I'm busy. What do you want? You handle the Romano investigation? Romano? Who's that? It's the poor guy who happens to own our grocery store. I checked it out last week. Find anything? Sure. Scared little guy ought to watch where he tosses his matches. That's all you could find. When I want your advice, I'll ask for it. Give, Bowles. I'm busy today myself. The hands must be tough, Regan. You're taking a fee from a poor... Answer me, Bowles. Okay. The guy had a fire. Know what caused it? Matches. Know the total damage? Ten bucks. Now, Regan, if you think we got enough men to stake out a two-bit grocery store... Haven't heard of putting out a fire before it starts, Bowles. Ah, wouldn't have heard that. I told you we haven't got enough men, Regan. Sure, we'd like to prevent it. Okay. But you need men, Regan. We haven't got them. Okay, Bowles. What have you got? There's no evidence of outside work. Meaning what? No evidence that anybody else started it, Regan. Spell it out, Bowles. Sure. Sure, I'll spell it out. Maybe somebody did start the fire on purpose. You know who gained by that, Regan? No, don't guess. Let me tell you. A character named Romano. Bowles, if you think... I didn't set it up, Regan. Somebody else did. For your information, this client of yours, Romano, has his grocery store well covered. You know what they call it, Regan? Fire insurance. Lots of fire insurance. And that's what I got from Sergeant Bowles. I left the station, drove down to a chop house in Third Street, had myself a big dinner and tried to think. When it wasn't that easy, my ideas would fit together during the salad and go to pieces during the steak. By the time I got to dessert, it was anybody's guess. I paid the blonde waitress and drove out 6th Street. Watching the street lights go on and hoping one of them would shed some light on the problem. But when I got past Alvarado, I didn't have time to think. I stepped on the gas, drove faster. Into streets becoming crowded, alive, into confusion and fire engines, into shouts and smoke. The fire helmet directed me over to the side of the road and I parked and got out and walked into the excitement and confusion and heat. And into a sweaty, curious, open collard, open mouth, hot-eyed, staring mob. And there were shouts all around me. Hey, Joe, hey, Edna, hey, Pete. Come take a look. Romano's, the grocery store. It's burning down. This is CBS and you are listening to tonight's adventure with Jeff Regan, investigator entitled, A Fire for Romano. A little man named Romano had hired me to find out who tried to burn down his grocery store and I'd met an irate customer, an overworked cop, and a kid in a hot rod. Now I was back on 6th Street, back at Romano's little store, and there was a mob of excitement, hungry people, yelling, cheering and shouting while flames licked up the store walls and around a big, new neon sign Romano had proudly shown me. And I was moving into the mob, trying to get closer to the big man, covered with soot and sweat, shoved me aside. Hey, hey, hey, stand back with him, please, Mr. Have you seen the owner? Too many people to see anything, Mr. out of my way. The big fireman moved on and I followed him, letting him clear a path through the spectators and up ahead I could see another big man, this one I knew. Stand back there. Oh, Regan. Rand, have you seen Romano, the owner? What's he look like? A little guy, dark hair, Mr. Not a control, Regan. I haven't seen anybody. Better stand back, that wall's going through. Romano and his wife live in there. Sorry, Regan, too many people. My men can't get equipment. Regan, come back here. Fire chief Rand's shots were lost in the crowd behind me as I moved and shoved and pushed my way around to the side of the burning grocery store. Somewhere in there was my client, Romano, and his wife, Maria. And then, stumbling out through the smoke, came a fireman. And he was dragging a man, a little man, coughing, spitting, screaming. It was Romano. Yeah, easy. This is the man you were looking for, Mr. Maria. Maria, let me go, please. Let me go. Romano, it's me, Regan. Let me go in the name of God. Please let me go, Maria. I must get to my Maria. You take him, Mr. I'll go back for her. Right. I got him. Regan. Mr. Regan. Where is she? They left her my Maria. Take it easy, Romano. They'll get Maria. They must have saved her. I'm going to get Maria. I'm going to get Maria. He pulled a little man away from the smoke and heat and people stretched him out on the pavement. In a few minutes, his breathing became regular and the coughing stopped and he slept. Ten minutes after that, the big fireman came out with Maria and placed her on the pavement beside her husband. Only Maria wasn't coughing or breathing. She was dead. The ambulance took Maria and Romano away. The fire hissed steam where the fireman's hoses poured gallons of water. And soon even the crowd had lost interest. And only the hissing steam and smoke filled the cavity that had been Romano's grocery store. Fire chief Ran came over to me. Find him, Regan. That man you were looking for? Yeah, Ran. I found him. He okay? Yeah. Yeah, he'll be all right. Not his wife. Oh, sorry to hear that, Regan. We did the best we could. I know. Ran, what started this? I was just checking. So far, nothing inclusive. You think it was an accident? No. Went too fast. This one was planned, Regan. I don't mean that. I'm not too sure. The nuts usually stick around. Watch it. They get their kicks that way. Check the crowns? We always check the crown. Nothing certain yet. Okay, Ran. Thanks. Oh, Regan. When you see Romano, tell him we did our best. I left Ran examining the charred scraps of what was left of Romano's grocery store. I walked down the street thinking, putting the twos without the twos and trying to make fours. And then I saw something up ahead and I forgot about the twos and fours and moved faster. It was a yellow model A4 parked three blocks in the scene of the fire, sitting quiet, in a docile, far from the nearest streetlight. I got to it, started to look in. It was the car that had tried to run me off the street. Get away from there, mister. I turned. I saw a kid. The kid who'd driven the car into me. In his right hand, a revolver. Come on, get away from it. You like guns. Now, get me things. Come on. You also like matches. Shut up. You also like killing people. You blinked when I said killing and I drove across the sidewalk at his knees and we went down together, rolling on the pavement and digging for the gun. And it was anybody's weapon until I felt the cold steel of a pressing between us. Saw the barrel moving up under my chin. Heard the report. Kid was gone. I was holding a sticky, damp spot above my left ear and when I pulled my hand away, it too was sticky and damp. I got up, rocked unsteadily on my feet, stumbled down to my car. I reached for the ignition, pushed the starter and decided to wait. Voices in faces and voices in lights and a big blank wall to stare at. I waited, not being sure and then I opened my eyes and the blank wall was sealing and the face was sergeant bulls. Who said it was just a scratch? Lay down. What's going on around here? I said lay down. You want to hurt something or something? Bulls, your humor stinks. Where are we? Georgia Street receiving. Only why a randed body? Ram brought me here. You found you in your car. You were out, way out. Romano. Is he okay? Yeah, he's okay. His wife, Maria. Does Romano know? Yeah, he knows. Bulls. Yeah? You still figure Romano burned his own store down? Shut up. Like you said, Bulls, who would gain but Romano? Who, Bulls, who? Okay, so I was wrong, okay? We did our best. After the crime. What did you do before it happened, Bulls? Slow down, Reagan, you're racing your motor. Besides, suppose you answer a couple of questions. Okay. Just ask me. Bulls asked me and I told him and he folded his notebook and he walked out. I got up, checked my legs and the bandage on my left ear, glanced down the hospital corridor and walked out. 30 minutes later, the cab let me off where I'd last seen that yellow coop and I began to check garages and the first one I checked was behind the apartment building where Mrs. Wilson lived. And I got nothing. 30 minutes after that, I'd covered her side of the block and was on the last apartment across the street. Four garages, side by side. First, chubby. Second, dodge. Third, Ford. Not a new one. It was a coop like the yellow one I was looking for only. This was black. Shiny black. Shiny black. That was worth something. I moved into the dark garage and looked closer at that model A and reached out and touched the shininess and brought my finger back fast. Sticky. Wet. Newly painted. What are you doing back here? Short, fat with a flashlight beam in my eyes. Come on, speak up. What's your business? Turn off your lights. Not a chance, Mr. I'm on to you. I said turn it off. Whose car is this? None of your business. I said whose car? This is my property, Mr. You... Talk! It ain't my place to give out information on my tennis. The owner lives in your apartment? Well, I... Does he? Well, I rent that garage, Mr. Five bucks a month. But the guy who owns the car doesn't live here? It ain't no guy, Mr. Woman pays the bill. A woman? A plump woman wears rimless glasses. Yeah. Her name's Wilson, Mrs. Wilson. Hey, that's... Thanks. Hey, you ain't got no right to ask me questions. I moved around the building across the street double time. Double time up the stairs. Up to the place I'd been earlier in the afternoon. It was late now, very late. Whether she liked it or not, Mrs. Wilson was getting a call-er. I leaned on the buzzer, stayed on it. And midnight or not, Mrs. Wilson was going to answer if it took me home. What's the meaning of this? The very idea... Oh, it's you. Well, see here... I'm coming in, Mrs. Wilson. I won't have this, you. I'm calling the manager. That's what I'm going to do. I'm coming in, Mrs. Wilson. You policemen have no right to disturb peace-loving citizens. I'm not the police, Mrs. Wilson. You're not the police? Well, in this case... It's not this time. Get out of my house. Do you hear? Get out of my... Shut up. What do you want? Your son. He is your son. You're playing crazy. My son is out of town. Really? He's been gone since yesterday. He's visiting his aunt. That's right. He left on the train for Santa Barbara. That's where my sister lives. Tommy left yesterday morning. Tell me about Tommy. He's a good boy. There's nothing he's done wrong. He's... What right have you got... What right have you got covering up for murder? Murder. Sure, murder, Mrs. Wilson. When your kid sat prior to Romano's store, somebody was killed. The law can call out manslaughter, Mrs. Wilson, but you and I know it's murder. You're lying. You're making... Why, Mrs. Wilson? That's all I want to know. Why? Why did you knowingly let your kid set fire to that store? What kind of a distorted brain... You shut up! What those people got they deserved. We don't want their kind in this neighborhood. We've got our rights. Who's we? Citizens. Real American citizens. Oh, Romano's not. Is that it? There's no place here. I think I'll just look around, Mrs. Wilson. Where are you going? Look around. Something brought this business to a boil. You stay out of there! I wasn't going in. Since you made a point of it. Hmm. Kitchen. You get out of here! Now, why would you care if I looked in your kitchen, Mrs. Wilson? I... No. Interesting. Very interesting. I've got no right to come in here and... Coffee, sugar, soap. Oh, I... Lots of it. Let's see. Say about two dozen cans of coffee. I... Two cases of soap. And there's a sugar there. I paid for it. It's my right to buy what I want. Romano can't tell me where I'm supposed... Oh, so that's it. Romano tried to tell you how much you could buy. No dirty, filthy foreigner is going to tell me... That's right. You're an American. A real patriotic American. Right. The Constitution says you've got a right to buy as much as you want any time you want. You've got your rights. Ah, remember, you're telling me that. So I'll thank you to keep your nose out of my business. Your kind belongs behind bars, Mrs. Wilson. What? Your kind candied off the same table with Romano's. Your kind belongs out back in the pig pen. Where you can wallow in your soap and coffee and sugar and greed. How dare you? Get back with the pigs, Mrs. Wilson. Somebody left a loophole in the Constitution. What? Stand right where you are, Mr.... Well, that makes it complete. Oh, Tommy. Oh, my Tommy. I thought I stopped you once, Mr. Oh, he said such horrible things, Tommy. He said such terrible things. I won't be saying much when I get through with him. When you get through with what? Haven't you killed enough for one night? Killed? Mrs. Romano's dead. Dead from the smoke and flames and hate. Your mother cooked up. Oh, no. I wasn't going to kill her. Sure, just a little fire. Burn them out of the neighborhood. Your mother's hiding. Tommy, don't be very important. I know they always start that way, just a little hate. But it builds, doesn't it, kid? It starts with a fist, ends up with guns, lots of them. But, Tommy... I didn't mean... Go on, shoot, kid. Make the neighborhood safe for Americans. Your mother's kind of Americans. A kind that breeds hate and greed and gets fat doing it. Tommy, make him stop. Shoot, kid. Well, I prove she's right that you can kill because you're special like she is. Tommy! Give me that gun. The gun? The gun. Thanks. There must be something in the Constitution that fits you, Mrs. Wilson. And there was. Murder, arson, whatever you want to call the crimes of Mrs. Wilson. You might say she was fighting for a fifth freedom. The freedom of grab. And she won. The right to spend the next few years grabbing the bars of her own private cell. The next morning, I checked in down at the office of my boss, Anthony J. Lyon. Empty. Anthony J. on vacation. Way up in the mountains, breathing fresh air, living the hard, rugged life, fishing, hunting, getting next to nature. And doing good. Thought about that as a sap down in his big swivel chair. Anthony J. Lyon, detective bureau, Regan speaking. I have a long distance call for Mr. Jeffrey Regan from Mr. Lyon in Mammoth Lakes, California. Okay, I'm Regan. The call is collect. Will you accept the charges? What else? Okay, operator. Jeffrey! Is that you, Jeffrey? Ah, Lyon, how's the fishing? You what said? You know, terrible connection. I can't hear a thing. I said, how's the fishing? The fishing? Oh, yes. Yes, fine. Wonderful. Spend every minute out on the lake, open air, exercise. Just a minute, Jeffrey. You certainly, I'm in for $5 deal, Charlie. Yes, really roughing it, Jeffrey. Yeah, I can tell. Yes. Pardon me, Jeffrey. These fishermen keep asking advice. I've got aeases over queens. Sorry, gentlemen. That's why I called you, Jeffrey. Fish biting that good, huh? Biting. I've never seen so many suckers. I mean fish in my life. Practically, I have to fight them all. Jeffrey, this exercise is doing me so much good. Yeah, Lyon. Do you mind if I stay another week? Jeff Regan Investigator is written tonight by William Frug, produced and directed by Sterling Tracy, and stars Frank Graham as Regan with Frank Nelson as Anthony J. Lyon. Original music is by Dick Aron. Jeff Regan Investigator is heard transcribed each week at the same time over CBS. Bob Stephenson speaking, and inviting you to be with us again next Sunday at 8.30 for more suspense and mystery and adventure with Jeff Regan Investigator. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.