 Broadway's my beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle, The Gaudiest, The Most Violin, The Lonesomeest Mile in the World. Broadway's my beat, the exciting drama of people who walk the Great White Way, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Afternoon sun strikes glints on Broadway's pavements, and the perfumes of summer drift in from meadows never known, from tropic seas that were never sailed, from green hills veiled in mist and imagined in childhood, drift and die against neon bled of its color. But the illusion still rides the silken vessel of a girl's summer frock, and the season dances in her slow, languid walk. And her passing is reflected in chrome and steel. There's crowd between you and her, and there's loss. So walk away from it, kid, and order the beer, and skim off the longing. Summer, too, will finally pass from Broadway. For the policeman, there's this, the corridor to be walked, the corridor at whose end lie the anonymous dead, the unflamed dead. Walk it and push open a swinging door that opens out of the city's moored. Stand for a moment against the stillness. Over here, Danny. Tell me in, my girl. It's a summer's day, Danny, and you and I have to... Don't do it prior, buddy. Kid, just tell me, huh? Well, this is the one they brought in yesterday, Danny. One of those boys and girls found buried in the sand on Coney Island. When they dug them out, they also found a knife wound in his chest. Made them sad. They turned off their portable radio, stopped dancing. Identify him yet? Yeah, that's why I called you. All right, you called me. The man was in his beach trunks, no wallet on him, no bundle of clothes, not even a lock attack. Do you want me to compliment you on how hard you worked for his identity? Yeah, it would be nice. All he had was some numbers tattooed on his arm. The kind they were, their sequence, I figured they were social security types. So I checked the agency in Baltimore. They had them in their files. He used to work carnies. Just came in on the telephone. Who is he? A member of the name of Joey Croft now runs a palace of fun down in Coney. Him and a partner. I checked on the partner. They tell me a dish, Danny, a dish by the name of Letty Scott. You going to talk to her? Coney on a nice day, sure you will. And leave the place of the tagged and cataloged dead. The clean and quiet room where death is pageant hold. Accounts current for homicide. Leave there and out into beginning twilight. And the drive now to Coney. And Coney Island on a mild summer's evening is carnival. His pink cotton candy and things that spin and things that whirl. And Coney is ten shots for a quarter. And guess your weight and down rushing rides and carousel. Giddiness, laughter, pop dogs, arcades. And little Egypt's oldest granddaughter. Ask a question of a man in a Harlequin suit who needed a shave. And be directed to some steps in the frosted glass door to an office. What's that? For what? For the stare. What else do you have on your mind? I'm from the police. My name's Danny Clover. I asked you something. Yeah, I did. It's about Joey Croft. All right, it's about Joey Croft. Sit down, wait for him. Go ahead, do that. I'm his partner. He seems surprised that he's sitting in his chair when he comes in. Say let, he said you would have do that. Joey's dead. He was found yesterday on the beach with Scott dead, stabbed to death. He's in the morgue. Coney, along with you? All right. Coney, along. Stabbed? That's right. Murdered. What a fight, an argument with somebody. Joey's temper. How? Who did it? We don't know. What about you? You're kidding. Did you kill him? I'm the girl who used to ride elephants. That makes me kind to all animals and nearly all people. And I was real kind to Joey. I don't go around killing him. Where were you yesterday? Here, all day. I was here all day, mister. Listen, you, I can prove it. I didn't... What am I yelling for? Ask around. I was here all day. Let's assume that, Miss Scott. Let's assume you were here. You didn't kill Joey. Partner, you must have known him pretty well. You just said it. I was his partner. What about it then? Who didn't like him? Listen, I'm going to tell you something. I'm going to get somebody in trouble, because I knew Joey pretty well, and I'm going to miss Joey. Find yourself a boy named Fred Moore, and I'll tell you where to find him. Who's Fred Moore? I've only once worked here in a clown suit on his way to being a geek. Stoles some dough, Joey screamed. He took off Fred's clown suit and dressed him like they do in Dan Amora. Fred got three years. Now he's out. You said you knew where to find him, where? I took a walk down there a week or so ago, saw Fred sitting on a porch, rocking in a chair. A hotel there. The ocean rest. He waved to me. I waved to him. He got up from his rocker. I walked away fast. Ask him what you asked me. Ask him did he kill Joey Croft? Tell her you'll do that when you find him. Tell her to stay close to her palace of fun. All hers now. No partners. Because you'll want her to be there if there's need to come back. And leave her. Leave the taunting that lies close on her lips and changes color as neon spins. And on the right to Seagart, Carnival ebbs. It sounds muted. It's lights flung against the darkening mist-laden skies and holes. And at the edge of laughter, the hotel, ocean rest. It's paint scarred, blistered, peeling. On its screen porch, a row of frayed and empty rockers swaying to the tides of night wind. And inside, a woman sweeping the sand-leavings of the happy vacation time folk. And be told, if you want to know anything, ask of the property owner. The owner, Mr. Zabrowski. A knower of everything. Proper party to ask. Ask in the morning when Mr. Zabrowski comes back from catching night fish. A questioner about a guest named Fred Moore. Be told, not here, not no more. Checked out. Be told, Zabrowski. Everything is Zabrowski. So issue an all-points bulletin on Fred Moore. Go home. Sleep out night. And in the morning, come back to ocean rest. Want me to stay out here, Danny? Yeah, wait. I'll go inside you. What? Out here is better. You're the police fella asking around the cleaning woman last night. Mr. Zabrowski? I didn't catch no fish in case you would care to ask. You don't care, huh? I'm looking for Fred Moore. Freddy the geek? Freddy the guzzler? Freddy the ex-con? Oh, man can do such things to his body. Go fight the geek. Your cleaning woman said he checked out. When? Maybe two nights ago. Maybe same two nights ago on day Joey Croft was killed. In the morning's paper. I say to me, was this same two nights ago Joey Croft was knifed and Freddy checked out the next night the police fellow? Freddy killed a man. You don't worry when? I was strong man, one police fellow. Look at me, you could believe it. I asked you if you knew where Fred was. Strong man, broke chains across my chest at carnivals. So it does not matter to me where killers run to hide. I do not care. He's the killer. He told me, he said to me, is a Browsky? Is Joey Croft wrong me? Put me in prison. Wrong me, I fix him. This he said to me on his porch. I do not argue. I do not discuss with private matters of geeks. I give money to geeks for bulls. I am their friend. Why did he say all this to you? First day, come here to ocean rest. Say put me on cuff. Soon I have much money. I can't get such money. He told me, he say fix Joey Croft. I call Joey, tell him to walk soft. Danny, what do you want? Just come over to the radio. Somebody spotted Fred Moore. Citizen spotted him West 16th, Danny, in Manhattan. Okay, let's go. I'm the kid that found Fred Moore. Where is he? Up there, second floor. He's in the front. I was walking down the street out front made a purchase at the drugstore, including a newspaper. So right next to the box scores is this picture in the paper. This man wanted for questioning and connection with murder. Then walking back down the block, there he is. Going into here. And the shades went down from that room there. You've been a big help, mister. Now you just walk down the other end of the hall and wait there. Hey, now look, I'm the kid that discovered him. Walk. Sure, sure. Open up. It's the police. Lights come in front of the door. Smell this, Danny. Pretty lousy bourbon. What's the matter? He's Fred Moore, isn't he? He's Fred Moore. Not drunk, huh? No. He's dead. Written by Morton Fine and David Freidgen and starring Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. Oh, carousel. And the mob walks in dream time. Easy. And stops there to watch the juggler in the pancake spinning in the window. And there, the spectacular and death-defying act of the J-walker. And walks again. And stops again to drink at the enameled and lighted fountain of eternal orange juice. It's the languid time on Broadway. The easy smile time. And it's clown and a girl blowing kisses. The end of the fabulous ride that costs only a dime. All of it comes to one corner or another. Turns off ebbs. Searches a side street or goes home. And where I was, the house on West 16th. The seeking was over with done. Death was here. Lugged in the back of the head on Danny. Oh, maybe. What's with the maybe? Fred Moore was beat right here where the blood is. You're not going to fight me on that, are you? You heard me, just maybe. Go call the boy who spotted Fred. What's your name? I wasn't wrong, huh? That's Fred Moore, all right? Lieutenant asked you something. What's your name? Ray, I'm Ray Kendall. What's the matter with him? Let me out of here. Danny, dead? Anybody else walk in or out of this apartment house while you were standing outside? Sure, sure, sure. I guess so. You guess so or you know? I'm no cop. I said sure. I guess so because I guess so. Can you describe anybody who went in or out? I don't know who went in that house. I see a wanted guy who's supposed to be a deputy or something. I'm supposed to walk up to him and say, hey, Buster, no more of that. I'm a guy. That's all. I don't do things like that. Yes? This is the second time I called. Who is this? Where will I find you, Miss Forrest? Not far. I'll be in East River Park, one of the park benches on 23rd. Stay where you are. I'll be right there. That's right. It's me you're looking for, Mr. So don't look no more. Miss Forrest? Uh-huh. Come on, sit down. Sit. You won't believe the frank discussions I had saving a place for you from other fellas. Fresh kids, too. Thanks. We found Fred Moore dead in your room. That's how I left him. Dead. Right off, I know he was dead. Tell me about it. Right off, from the beginning? Like to the tune of dear hearts and gentle people? Like that? Any way you want. You know, that's the first time that's been said to me. Anyway, goes back to a vacant lot in Sedalia, Missouri. Even the weeds were burned dry. Where they set up a carny and I did the hoochie-coochie in front of a sideshow tent. You said any way I want. You said that. All right, go on. Thanks. It attracted. Even Freddy, it attracted. Freddy the lush. He stood close up front and he cried. Real tears, Mr. Honest memories. What were they? Couple times. Girl said to me, Nora, baby, what are you building? What's the percentage in a sure thing geek? That's how they talk to you when you were crazy enough to go out with Freddy. They didn't know I'd seen this lush cry. You saw him after that? Couple more times until I couldn't stand it no more. Then? Well, then what? Then the conny lost him. After a while, they lost me, too. Then I read in billboard Freddy's up and down a morrow on a larceny ramp. We use without booze. They get to do the kids good. Did you write to him and keep in touch with him? No. But he found you, knew who you were. He found me all right. Took him a day, took him to Sunday night. It's when he comes beaten on my door with a bottle of booze. It's Sunday night, all dressed up, no place to go. So I let Freddy in. How did he die, Nora? My own way. I let Freddy in. And even though he's drunk, there's something different about the lab. Not like he was daring the world, like he'd done something big. Even came through the haze of purpose. Be nice to me, Nora, he says. Be nice while you got the chance. There's others standing in line, but that's it. That's Dana Mora Dustin. How did he die? First he danced real nice. He looked deep. Turned the box down. Then he passes out on the couch. Morning he wakes up, goes out to buy more hooch. Comes back in five minutes and turns the radio on real loud and gets fancy. Opens the bottle. Tries to pour some down my mouth and spills it on my shoulders. I push him away. He falls. Head hits the sink pipe. Right to the beat of the music. Like it was a drama something. Like... If it was like that, why did you run away? He was dead. So what could I do for him? So take her to the city jail, hold her as material witness. Then leave her back to my office, go to the coffee and the ham sandwich and sit there, think about it. A man found dead Saturday on Coney Beach, identified as Joey Croft, Sunday. And a lead as to his killer, a man named Fred Moore. Fred Moore an ex-con with a motive for murder. And find him, Monday, dead. And think about it some more and it all gets mixed up with the carnival sounds. Roller coasters and hawkers and piliope. Mixed up with a strong man and two carnival women. In the middle of all of it, a door opens and starts to tagly interrupts. Now here, Danny, coffee and a ham sandwich are in white. I told you no mayonnaise, Gino. Don't knock it. Don't cost, expert. Eat, Danny, eat. The way you're holding the sandwich you're going to drop the lettuce. I told you no lettuce, Gino. Danny, Mama taught tagly. I had a proverb she used to tell us a mint food. It went like this. Two rabbits get scurvy. No, tangible lettuce. The way Mama said it, it rhymed. Thank you, Gino. Next time, no lettuce, huh? As is your want. Now to work, maybe... No mayonnaise, either. You're interrupting, Danny. On the way up from the delicatessen I stopped at my desk to pick up several items for your perusal. Eat, Danny. So eat already. I'll tell you about them. Item one, a memo from Gordon of technical to wit. Flex of blood found on drain pipe near head of deceased Fred Moore. More or less bear out the story of Ms. Nora Forrest. We'll go on. An examination of Ms. Forrest by our own Dr. Sinski revealed several bruises such as might be inflicted in a puzzle of the type she described for you. Is there anything there on the record of Fred Moore? Indeed, Danny. Fred Moore in between jail sentences for petty theft, assault, and the like worked around Cooney. His last jail sentence was for three years for larceny and thereby hangs a tale. Oh? Indeed. The deceased Fred Moore was a model but lonely convict. In all of his three years there, Danny, no visitors. In spite of the amount of letters he wrote to everybody he ever knew, no visitors. Except Letty Scott. Letty? Uh-huh. She was Joey Croft's partner. Be that as it may, Danny, she visited the polky twice. The last week he was in prison and the week before. And this is all I have. Thanks, you know. All in all, you did very well. Hi again. I recognized your shadow behind the glass door. You two men know each other. Meet him. This morning I speak with him. How are you, Mr. Zabrowski? Good, good. Debbie used to be a strong man in the side show. Did he tell you that, Danny? Yeah, he did. What are you doing here? She? Her? This one, Letty. She said, come here. I got lonely. I can understand it. Everybody's dying. Everybody does. Take from the bottle, police fellow. I'm not here for everybody. Baby, honey, Debbie, that's not right. That's not right at all. I'm giving this party for you. Don't you remember? I told you. He-he-he. Police fellow, you better go. It's my party. No more. It's my party, Letty. It's yours, honey. See? Glad I have to wait. You know that, don't you, Letty? I heard you've been asking around, talking to people. Coptalk. Coptalk. That's right. About murder. Joey Crofts. I heard Fred Moore's dead, too. Now, you can't ask him about Joe. Ha-ha-ha. Oh, man, whoa, whoa. You're going to, huh? With her. You stay here with me. Anything you say, sugar. Let's talk some more about Fred Moore, shall we? As long as Zabby can stand you. His death was an accident. Fred was drunk. He tried something wound up on the floor with his head near a pipe. Geek. Geek is geek ways of die. What did you think of Fred, Letty? What Zabby said? Why did you visit him at Danimora? My little girl don't visit geek. Twice, just before he was released. Why, Letty? What business? Don't worry about it, sugar. Just you and I, one minute from now. You got real tired of your partner, Joey Croft, didn't you? Yeah, I got real tired of Joey Croft. It happens to me. Don't you worry about it, Zabby. It takes a long time. Man like Fred, no friends in prison for three years. A girl like you, beautiful girl, comes to visit him. They beat their cups against the bars. Sure, I went there, Danny. Had a talk with Fred. It impressed him. Made him promises. Got him to kill Joey. Zabby, how long can you stand this, sugar? Way, way. All right, sugar. I'll tell you the rest, Danny. Fred killed Joey Saturday when he got out. Then Fred came to me and I gave him a bottle of booze for his trouble. And I sent him away. He felt like a man. That's how drunk he was. Then wandered over to see a girl he'd known a long time ago in Norah Forest. He could face her now. He'd accomplished something. He died. Let's go, Letty. Sit there, honey baby. You police fellow, Letty, don't go with you. She bought herself a murder. You do that, Letty? Get him. Break him for me, Zabby. Yeah. He's spoiling your party, Zabby. Get him. Such thing to do, Togeek. Get him. You're not pretty anymore. Take her away, police fellow. It's the happy time on Broadway. It's after the movies. Nobody wants to go home. It's a place strong against the night like a fuss for us and Allie. And they're heaped there. The golden girl, the bright-eyed kid, the man with promises, the guy who believes in him. It's Broadway, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world, my beat. In the temple was heard as Letty, Lou Merrill as Mr. Zabrowski, Paula Victor as Nora Forrest, and Herb Bygren as Ray Kendall.