 Broadway's My Beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world. Broadway's My Beat transcribed with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. The days pass quickly on Broadway now. It's November and the time clock people go home in shadows. Even autumn is slipping away and it's got to be done quickly now. Fast drink, fast shower, quick phone call, and out into the swarm. Out into the spilling darkness and eddies of crowd and furious street. For November night is torrents, is rockets of color, is sudden swift rush of riot. So grab a partner and hang on. A time is dying, starting tonight. And where I was, and Detective Muggerman, apartment in the West 30s, the quality was of midnight. Of every light being turned on to flood it out, midnight, and the quality of death, and the man in pajamas. I hit him over the head with this. I hit him and I killed him. And his wife, nightgown and robe. And I? You just take it easy, honey. What were you going to say, Mrs. Cordell? Nothing, but I was the one who called the police that door. Yes. I slugged him and she called. You? Lieutenant Clover. You know his name, he told you his name. Lieutenant, yeah? When are you going to get that man out of here? When's the meat wagon coming? That's what you call it, isn't it, meat? Ray. Ray, stop it. Let's run it down, Mr. Cordell. Run it down. That's what we call it when we want to find out what happened. It's obvious. Run it down. Make a pot of tea, Virginia. What? Tea, coffee, something, a drink, something. Yeah, sure. Don't bother, Mrs. Cordell. You just stay right there. All right. But listen, can't you get that man out of here? You know the man your husband killed this evening, Mrs. Cordell? No way. What do you call it when they're like you, Lieutenant? A cutie or something? What? Look, Mr. Cordell, a man has slugged a death in your apartment. A man, according to identification, found on his body, whose name is... Lou Martin. Yeah, that's right. Lou Martin. I'm sure it's right. Lieutenant picked up his wallet out of his coat, pulled out a card and yelled, Lou Martin. Also, that he's from Akron, according to his business card. Okay, okay. What was he doing here? I was in the library reading a book and I dozed off, right, Ginny? Right. Ginny was here in the bedroom sleeping, right? That's right. Then she screamed. That man was bending over me. What would you do, Lieutenant? You're married to a woman and she screams in the middle of the night that there's a guy in her room and by golly there is. What would you do? Just tell me what you did. I grabbed the ant iron and came running. I gave him a hit. That's what I did. You really did. Can't you get him out of here? After a while. This room will have to be photographed and... Then it will have to be questioned again. Yeah. Yeah, you will. Right. It's all right, Ginny. I don't mind. I don't mind it at all. That's not what I mean. Ginny. Ginny, you're shivering. Oh, come here. Come here! Better? Sure it's better. This is what you meant, isn't it? Sure. Sure it is. Ginny! Good morning, Gino. Come on in. How do you feel? Well, this is a warming note if I ever heard one. Good mornings and how do you feel? Fellow to fellow. The pause and the day-to-day hurly-burly to inquire. The need to know how a friend is faring. Look, answer the question, Gino. How do you feel? Fine, thank you. And you? Fine, thank you. Good. Let's get to work, shall we? I don't see why not. However, Danny, there's not a whole lot to report. Dr. Sinski is at autopsy at the moment and no word so far from him. However... Just go on, Gino. Well, nothing except the hotel which registered Lou Martin before his death has been located due to the diligent efforts of... What's the name of the hotel, Gino? The Eastwood, Danny. Uptown. East 75th. Thank you, Gino. Of course. Squad car and ride uptown then. Through bright glintings of November streets. Through quick fusion and drift of November color. Brown haze and yellow sunlight and gray stone. And black winter's coat and poodles. Snow white held against the pallor of a woman's face. Who waits for a traffic light to change. Watch as it change. Shifts the poodle to warmth of the other cheek. Wights again. And a gentleman tips a humbird. Turn then into the side street of the Eastwood Hotel. In park and enter the lobby. Which is late autumn performance. Of loiterers, of November's transients. Of permanent residents who sit on edge and split leather chairs. And compare watches with the dubious statement of the hour as written on the face of the lobby clock. And show the badge, spell out the name of a man dead. And be told room 3A down that corridor where Mr. Ramsey the manager is. Where if you have questions, Mr. Ramsey is the man. Mr. Ramsey. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. And you? A police. Good, good. And you can help me. Help me with all this. With what? By the gathering together and putting away neatly of all these things of Mr. Lou Martin's. And these shirts and under things, they go into that suitcase over there. And these. Just let them alone, Mr. Ramsey. Let them alone. For you don't understand. It's a service I perform. For the dead? For the dead. For when things happen to one of our transients, as happened to Mr. Martin. I make a checklist against any future legal squabbles that might arise. I ship the things on to their homes or wherever stated on the register. I enjoy doing this small thing. Where were you going to ship Mr. Martin's things? Well, to his firm in Akron, of course. Well, here I'll show you. There, have yourself a look. Calendars. Sample calendars. Mr. Martin's line. This type of calendar. The firm is stated here in small print right below the... Well, I had them all packed and there's where I was going to send them. And this hotel? This hotel, I may say, was Lou Martin's home away from home. Twice annually. Then you can tell me something about Lou Martin. About Lou Martin? Not I. Angela, if she's there. Angela? Sometimes drops in on our bar and hangs around. Lou introduced me to her. Lou promised Angela once she could pose for a calendar. So Angela would be the logical one for you to talk to. Now, come on, let's take a walk and see. Oh, these things of Lou Martin? Yeah, we'll take care of them. You'll take care of them? Well, that's good. Then come along. If you'd care to tell me how Lou Martin died, the paper was quite vague on certain details. Oh, forget it, Mr. Ramsey. Of course. Forget it. Uh, boy. You boy. Those things of Lou's don't ship them. This policeman's going to take care of them. That's our best boy. Come on on. Our bar. The cozy room. Well, now let me see if she is here. Oh, yes, there's Angela. Cozy, alone, blind. Sipping the frosty. Enjoy yourself. Thanks. I saw the top point you to me. My frosty, there. My frosty's dead. It's what I'll have. Another frosty, please. I'm from the police, sir. They don't allow dancing in here. See the sign? No dancing, it says. Mr. Ramsey told me you knew Lou Martin's. Hip, hip, hooray for Mr. Ramsey. What about it, then? You think I'd ask you to buy me another frosty? Lou wasn't dead. Lou wasn't dead. He'd be sitting right here by my side, buying me everything I need. In the world, Lou wasn't dead. You two have got along fine, huh? Very fine. Every two months for the year I worked here, for three years, twice a year, that's six times we got along very fine. There was red circles around the days when, on his sample calendars. Did he ever tell you anything of robberies he was involved in, any prowling? No. Lou never told me he was a burglar, a thief by night, a night rider. He never told. Well, I see my time is running short, and I must bid you, Joe, hit me with another frosty. Hit me, hit me, hit me, baby. I'm away home, Danny. I thought I'd check you on a couple of things before. On what, my man? Well, I picked up Lou Martin's things at the hotel, like you told me. They run through technical now. So far, just a few chuckles and elbow pokes from those giants down there over the artwork on Martin's calendars. Anything else? Oh, yeah. Met routine check on that girl Angela you talked to works the bar. Todd's hotel clients in the drinks. When Lou Martin was around her word for the season was hands off. Must be a few thousand Anglers in New York City, Danny. So is it all right if I go home now? Oh, sure. Good night, my man. Oh, I promise the missus will take her to a movie tonight. She called special on her phone and told me she's sick and tired of... I don't take... Hey, you care to come along, Danny? My treat? You and me and the missus? Then after we could... You'll pardon me, Detective Muggeman? How about you, Gino? You want to go to a movie with me and the missus tonight? My treat. Thank you, no. I have made other arrangements with my own missus. Thank you kindly, however. Yeah. Danny. Yes, you know. Just came in, riot call from a neighbor in the apartment house 1832 West 35th. A woman is screaming. West 35th? Hey, that's... Exactly. The apartment where last night Mr. and Mrs. Ray Cordell killed that robber. I thought Danny, you would want... I'll take it with you if you want, Danny. No, you take your way at the movie. Thanks anyway. Open up! Open up! Who asked you... You having some trouble, Mr. Cordell? Neighbors' beneath dropping, huh? Yeah, they have. Let's go in, huh, Mr. Cordell? Jenny and me, we just didn't see eye to eye on a thing. So I let her have my point of view. That's no cause for a neighbor to yell cop. That's no reason. Mr. Cordell? Ray's right. There's no cause. He's been beating you, hasn't he? He doesn't know, does he, Ray? He doesn't know how we are. We too... Ray... Ray, honey. What do you want, baby? Lean close, honey punch. That's it. Oh, I love you. I love you. I love you. Ray, honey. Honey punch. You see, Clover? A man and a wife, and a love like has never been. You are listening to Broadway's My Beat, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin, and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. This message comes to you from CBS Radio, where day and night, every day and every night, America listens most. We're proud of our responsibility for broadcasting news, entertainment and public service programming to more people. And we're constantly trying to make our programming worthy of more and more listeners. For instance, have you heard some of our most recent newcomers brought to you by most of these stations? There's Les Paul and Mary Ford at home. Two talented instrumentalist vocalists who prove on their round-the-week visits that good things come in small packages. And have you been listening to LaRosa's show now three evenings a week at the Star's Address? This brilliant young man has gone straight to America's heart with his voice and with his personality. We hope you've been enjoying too those visits with the corollaires. Our much-expanded Barbershop quartet with a singing style that's one them loads of friends. So, keep tuned to the Star's Address. Keep listening to CBS Radio. November night had fled and the mood is already set on Broadway. Laughter muffled against the fur piece and the warm words out of the mouths of hawkers turning to mist on the chill night air and mirrors that earlier glittered dimmer now and hazed and worn with having held the sharp images of the day things. Of the day girls who dipped in flight made scarlet their mouths engraved their reflection on mercury glass and darted away. And now the replacements moving in shadow and reflection and night images floating under glass. Mood for November and where I was the mood loving. Honey bunch. You are my own true bunch of honey. And the gesture gentle. My fingers on your lips, baby and repeat after me. Mr. Cordell, you're spoiling at Clover. You're insensitive. A little while ago you were beating her up. And what Ginny needs right now, right now is a sensitive man. Like you? Like me, baby. Tell me about it here, Mr. Cordell. You leave my Ray alone. You leave my honey bunch alone. There's a red well on your cheek, Mrs. Cordell, and where your husband slapped you. Come on, Mr. Cordell. Now you, you just wait. I had it coming to me. What? I had it coming, what Ray did. Why? For one thing I'm not as educated as Ray is. Sometimes I act real stupid like I just did a little while ago. And I yelled at him. And I made him mad. And another thing. What? Say he's sorry. To anyone. Not you, not me. All honey bunch has to do is... Love you, baby. Yeah. Yeah. You beat on our door, Clover, and you brought love and light back into our little home. What more can you want? Last night you killed a man. A thief. I don't know what. Who came to the wrong place for what he wanted. We're gonna rehash that bit again, Clover. Yeah, we are. Ray. We're gonna rehash your little mouth, baby. You were saying, Clover. Did you know that man your husband killed last night, Mrs. Cordell? I told you last night I didn't. Earlier today I checked to the hotel where Lou Martin was staying. Found out he was a salesman. Found out he visited town regularly. What are you trying to say, Clover? Just that Lou Martin seemed to me to be a reputable salesman. Why should he suddenly turn thief? You're really stupid if you think I'm smart enough to answer that. You better ask a doctor. You'll stick around, huh, Cordell? You and your wife? You know my loveless? You out of your mind, baby? You tell him not to slam the door on his way out. Right now I'm busy. Two things, Danny. Hmm? Oh, what things, uh... Well, this for one. A report from Dr. Sinski. You'll read it, you'll see. Mr. Ray Cordell, he's a true champ at the And iron. The way he went over Lou Martin with it. Bones I never knew people had in him. You'll read it. It'll bear me out. Is there anything else? Oh, yeah. Leg work. Routine rundown of Mr. Ray Cordell. And what about him? Artist. Illustrates. Kids. Books. One of the top men in the field that was given understand. You know why? No, I don't, my good one. I didn't either till his publisher, Mr. Atlanta, told me why. Ray Cordell, he said... Uh, give me a minute. I'll try to remember Mr. Atlanta's exact words. Well, my good one, then... Uh... Ray Cordell, he said... An innocent, a creature of faith in his fellow man. A man who looks at the world through the window of the eyes of a child. That's why. Well, thanks, my good one. That's... Oh, one more thing, Danny. The publisher gave me the names of two people he works with most of the time, who wrote the kids' books. Cordell illustrates them. Well... I call these two people. Bobby and Essie Goodhugh. Brother and sister. Here's their address in the village. I told them you'd be around. Well, why? When you could have... Some people have got to be seen to be believed, Danny. From the way Essie Goodhugh talked to me on the phone, I wouldn't want you to go through life without these two. Bye, Danny. And the village now, in the chill sunlight of November, and the walkers through it, boy in red turtleneck sweater and against it, blonde beard, sandaled young lady at tug-of-war with her terrier who spotted a Pomeranian, old man in khaki shorts and knapsack who never leaves the area. Second floor trumpet. Third floor piano. Sent of fresh bread from a bakery that features day-old loaves at half price. And the walkers from out of town, walkers who gawk, who get taken, who write home how shrewd they've been, who buy leather pillows and autographed turtles and clever neckties, and write turn on Sixth Street and Red Brick apartment house, and the muraled hallway of a prison scene with two-line poetry and praise of practically everything and apartment you're looking for. And you did. Essie, look. Hi. I'm Danny Clover. From the police. You've been waited for. We waited. Early this morning, a man called and said you'd be here. Essie answered the phone. And here you are. I haven't told the two of you right children's books. Small little stories. A is for the B is for the C is for the, you know. Or about the little girl who lost all her polka dots. And the puppy who chased them more. Ray Cordell illustrates them. Is that right? Yes. Yes. Tell me about him. He's a gentleman. Yes, he is. And he does things delicately. Yes, he does. Have you heard what's happened to him? No. Tell us. It was in the papers. In all the... We don't read the papers. We read the papers. We could not write stories for children. He beat a man to death. And what else? Essie. He just said that Ray beat a man to death. He's fooling us. Go on, Mr. Cove. He beat a man to death. And what else? He means it. Essie. What? Tell him. Tell him what? You used to like Ray. Did I? She used to like Ray. Do you want to get me in trouble? I'm not doing anything. Drop dead. Cliche. Cliche. Let's all of us go downtown and get booked. You too. She used to like Ray. Come on, let's go. I didn't believe him, that's all. I didn't believe a guy like Ray Cordell was. What do you mean? Such a gentle guy. Sweet. Oh, my little babe. Get away, Beaton. Look, you too. Ray Cordell was afraid of girlies. What else am I going to tell you? Real shy. I went out with him a few times and got tired of waiting. Meek, mild. Come on, let's have some words, Ryder. Meek and mild are very nice words. Meek and mild. I like what you said before too. Scared of dames. And how do you figure he got married? He didn't have a chance. A true lady gives a fellow a chance. Ray didn't get one from her. From his wife, you mean? Of course. Surely. You see? We were there. What are you talking about then? When it happened. She was all over him with her tricks. She didn't give him a chance. We saw. You saw what? When he met her. You saw what? A little bar. And she was sitting there. Just sitting, Virginia, had tricks. That's not fair. Where was this? A little bar we used to like to go to long ago. Ages. A year or two ago. In an awful hotel. The Easterwood. The Easterwood? The Easterwood. Thanks. Bobby, he's going. Bye. Hello, Mrs. Cardell. May I come in? Ray. Mind if I come in? Ray. What do you want? Ray. What's the matter? Can't you answer the... Ray. Oh. Yeah, what is it, Clover? He wants to come in. Come on in. You fond of us, Clover? This is your first visit in hours now. I've been asking around and... What a thing to do. Ray. Sure, honey. You can go make the beds. Stick around. Orders are what I give. Not you. Just stick around, Mrs. Cardell. Ray. Okay. Okay, stick around for a minute. Pay the visit to a couple of people who write books. Bobby and Essie? Mm-hmm. Did you find out? Are they for real? I talked to them. And another man talked to other acquaintances of yours. So? From what I've been able to find out to, you're a changed man. You think I'm changed, Ginny? Well? Well, not basically, honeybunch. You see, Clover? I'm still. Okay, let's talk a little bit about the man you killed. Why? You like to start it off, Mrs. Cardell? Ray. What? He's been... How do I know what he's found out? Listen, Clover. What? Yesterday I killed a man. I've been through a lot. Now, why don't you go away and come back? You know what's happening, don't you, Mrs. Cardell? I think so. What are you talking about? What's happening? Listen, I know your wife must have known Lou Martin. You're crazy. She hung around a bar that Lou Martin used to visit when I was in town. That's too much of a coincidence. The fact that he was killed here. Well, he... Well, he... Well, what? Well, maybe she did know him. I got a feeling, Ray. Look, Ginny. I got a feeling you're gonna break out in a sweat and start shivering in a minute. Look, Ginny. What are you gonna do? Hit me? Knock me around? Look, what's happened to you already. You're scared again. The man's got you in a corner. You know what you are. And you're whimpering. You know what she is, don't you, Clover? Knows I'm a girl who married a man like you. A nothing man. A weak... You know what she is, don't you, Clover? Lou Martin got in touch with you, didn't he, Mrs. Cardell? And you told him to come over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, Ray. I don't know what to do. Listen, baby. Before you found me in that place, I was getting frightened. I was getting up there. 36 is no chicken, honey bunch. So I told you a lie. I told you I loved you. It's a lady's privilege. What am I gonna do? I figured, all right, this guy, you. He's a real gentle fella. Real shy, timid boy. You know you were the first girl I could talk to. So I said, sure, I'd marry you. But you turned out pretty terrible, honey bunch. Nothing. Very mild. You ready to go, Mr. Cardell? Please, Ginny. Look at you. Please. Listen, you didn't have to come home when you did. Find Lou with me. You didn't have to do that. Ginny. But after you killed him, boy, up till five minutes ago, boy, talk about a fella, a man-type fella, the way you took over. How easy. You set up the story to tell the police. Talk about a fella. Just tell me what to do, that's all. Go with the man, honey bunch. Go on. Go on. Go with the man. One night turns into Broadway. The street plumes into flame. Flings reflections hard into the shadows. It's the dream. It's Blair that ebbs and screams again. And faces darting, wavering. Lost forever. It's Broadway. The Gaudiest. The most violent. The lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadway. My Beat. Broadway's My Beat stars Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover with Charles Calvert as Tartaglia and Jack Krushan as Muggevin. The program is produced and directed by Elliott Lewis with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. In tonight's transcribed story, her ballast was heard as Ray Cordell, Mary Jane Croft as Virginia Cordell, Jean Bates as Essie Goodhue, Jack Edwards as Bobby Goodhue, Howard McNear as Mr. Ramsey, and Eve McVeigh as Angela. Bill Anders speaking. Doctors estimate there are more than a million undiscovered diabetics in America who are living and working below par because of their ailment. This week, annually observed as Diabetes Week, a campaign is underway to locate undiscovered diabetics for their own present and future well-being. If yours is one of over 800 communities making diabetes tests available, take advantage of the occasion to test yourself and your family to be sure. Your news is always accurately reported when it comes from the CBS Radio Network.