 The Hallmark Playhouse, which is heard during most of the year at this time on Thursdays, has nearly finished its summer vacation. So be with us when Hallmark Playhouse returns to CBS, three weeks from tonight, on September 7th. Now from Hollywood, it's time for Edmund O'Brien as... Johnny Dollar. Mickey. Oh, Mickey. I tried to phone you a couple of times. I never reached you. I'm not a lot these days, Johnny. Hey, I heard about your protection of Sergeant Mickey. I'm nice going. Well, it isn't. You really sound worried, Mickey. What is it? I don't know. Sure, Mickey. I'll be here any time you want to come up. Edmund O'Brien in another adventure of the man with the action-practice expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar to whom it may concern, Hartford Police Headquarters, Hartford, Connecticut. I don't expect you to honor this statement, but since the reports to my regular employers going on these forms, the following is an accounting of my expenditures during my personal investigation of the Mickey McQueen matter. It's been my privilege to have worked a number of cases with Mickey McQueen here in Hartford, and through the years of friendship developed between us. So when he phoned Tuesday night to say he wanted to talk to me, I was glad to ask him over. But when it got to be 1.30 in the morning and he still hadn't arrived, I wasn't so glad. He arrived at 2. I'm sorry I'm late, Johnny. Oh, I'd hold you up. I was about to drop off. I had to think, Chuck. You're in uniform, Mickey. What about your beat? My beat? My beat won't miss me. After 20 years of working it from dark to dawn, checking its doors and passing the time of night with its people, truck and stuff. Yeah. Oh, is it too late for a drink, Mick? I got your brand, some Irish. Yes, that was good of you. I've been a good policeman, Johnny. I can say that without sounding like I'd suck on myself, Catty now. Well, I've never heard anybody say anything else, Mickey. Well, I've got more credit than I have a rest. I think there are quieter beats in town. Maybe you're lucky. Here's to it. All right. But be careful what it is. There's murder being done and planned right this minute, Johnny. Then that could stop it, don't have a heart right or wrong. What are you talking about, Mickey? I know what I'm talking about. Are you feeling all right? Feeling all right. I'm as healthy as I was yesterday, you know. I didn't see you yesterday. If they're taking my job, put me behind a desk. They're degrading in for a man that's been active for 20 years. After 20 years on your feet, you should take a rest. You're very smart. With very words of commission, Johnny. But Johnny, I... Yeah, Mickey? I never meant that they will take them all. I've used up enough of your time. Wait a minute. You came over to talk about something more than your new job. What's this stuff about murder being planned and being done? I shouldn't have said it. I wish you'd forget it. What's the matter with you? You know me well enough to tell me and you know me well enough to know I'll keep any confidence you want me to keep. You're a good friend, Johnny. Maybe that's why I changed my mind about telling you. Then why'd you come over? Because I thought I was going to talk to you. But I'm not. All right, it's your business. But you're acting like a kid, Mickey. If you don't have anything to say to me, it's after two. I may have a job in the morning. All right, Johnny. I'm sorry about it, Jim. I'll say good night. I didn't sleep very well for the rest of the night. I thought of a half-dose parts of Mickey's conversation kept coming back to me. And the more sleep I lost over it, the more I wished I'd been less grumpy and more sympathetic. There wasn't a job for me the next day. And right afternoon, I decided to drop by his apartment and find out his move when he was off duty. Mickey's apartment occupied the ground floor of a house not far from her. I could hear a woman crying somewhere inside. I smelled domestic trouble, but I pushed the buzzer anyway. Are you the... I'm Johnny Dollar, a friend of Mr. McQueen. Oh, yes. Johnny Dollar. He sent his phone here if I ever needed it. Is he home? Isn't there? She pointed in the direction of the door smaller than the outside door. The door to either a bathroom or a closet. Those were bunched at one end of the rod. And the other, still in uniform, his own polished leather belt drawn tightly around his neck on Mickey McQueen. I walked back into the lace curtain living room. The girl who had let me in didn't go with the furnishings. She was young, attractive, and her shoulder-length white blonde hair might have been natural. She'd stopped crying and she acted as if she were waiting for me to start something. Well, what about it? Can you explain yourself or do I get three guesses? Never mind that look, I only live here. Ah, well I didn't know Mickey had a daughter. Thanks for the compliment, but I'm his wife. Didn't know he had a wife either. Maybe he was ashamed of me. My name's Felmer. Who's sorry, Felmer? An old friend of Mickey's. Yeah, but he never told me about you. You've seen him lately? Last night, first he phoned me, then he came by to talk to me. What did he say? He was pretty handy with double talk. Maybe I was supposed to understand it, but I didn't. What was it about? About his job, the change he was making, something about murders being planned and done, and nobody doing anything to stop them. Then he didn't tell you. What? That I was leaving him. He's never mentioned it. Why were you leaving him? Because it was all wrong. I never should have married him first place. Why did you? Because he was the kindest, most wonderful man who ever lived. Does that answer your question? Not quite, is there no one? Did you know he's first wife? Yeah. Then I guess you know he took her death pretty hard. They'd been married ten years. I met him after she died. He was lonely, and I was... Well, he was pretty wonderful to me. I thought I could help him. It wasn't because of him I was leaving. It was me, but I never thought he'd do this. I don't think he did. What do you mean? I think he was murdered. Then why? When did you find him? I came home about a half an hour before you got here. Have you phoned the police? No, not yet. I didn't know what to do. Where'd you been? I told you I was leaving him. I've been living in a hotel. Does it matter? Why'd you come back? To get some things I'd left. Why are you asking me these things? When it's murder, there's bound to be a lot of questions. I don't think it was. Everybody loved him. He didn't have an enemy in the world. Why would anybody want to kill a man like Mickey McQueen? I didn't have an answer to that, but I started there in the house to try to find one. If it was murder by hanging, I knew it couldn't have been committed without a fight. But a half hour search didn't uncover any traces of the struggle. I phoned in a report and left Thelma and the apartment. For the rest of the day, I tried to talk myself into leaving the matter in the hands of the police where it belonged. But I couldn't do it. That night I started making the rounds of Mickey's Beat. I talked to a corner magazine vendor who had sold him a dime mystery. A woman in the cigar store who had talked with him and a cabbie who had borrowed five bucks from him. None of them gave me anything helpful. My next stop was the Cedric Hotel, where I looked up the house detective, Ned Martin. Oh, darling, what are you doing in this ended town? Looking for work? Oh, yeah, Martin. I got a night off. I'm taking a postman's holiday. Did you hear about Mickey? His promotion? Yeah, he deserved it. I didn't mean that. He's dead. Now, what happened? He was found hanging in his own clothes closet. Come on off it before we can talk. Sit down. Oh, Mickey, I'll miss him. How about I? Uh, did you see him last night? Yeah, he dropped in. He always did once or twice a night just to shoot the breeze, you know? Why'd he do it? Did he even know or anything? I think he was murdered. What makes you say that? He came over to see me about 2.30 this morning. There was something on his mind. He wanted a talk, but he wouldn't. That's figures. What do you mean? He knew of something about him last night. He was real low. I asked him what was the matter. He said it was because it was his last night on this beat. He was supposed to check into his new job today, but that didn't sound right to me. Did you know he had a wife? Yeah, I heard about it, and I hounded him until he showed me her picture. Platinum blonde? Yeah, I look like it. And young. I didn't want to embarrass him by asking, but I wondered about her. What makes you think it was murder, darling? Well, you think Mickey was the type to kill him? Well, no, but how can they tell? I guess you can. All you can do is try to find out. Well, if you don't have anything more, I'll be on my way. Wait a minute. I guess it was a dirty trick, and I wish I hadn't done it, but I sniffed that marriage. I found out who she was. Her name was Thelma Weaver. She did it a couple of years in Joliet. Where'd you get that? Things like that don't stay hidden. Why, were you? I really would. What are you holding out on me? It's for your own good, Johnny. I'll shake it out of you if I have to. Okay, hero. You know Fred Koo, the Calcutta Club over on Bartlett? I know of him. He's a police informer. Part time. You won't take my advice and forget to go talk to him. And don't tell him who sent you. Fred Koo is what the department knows. He's half oriental. The decor is joined to Calcutta. He's Indian because he can get the effect with no more expensive decoration than Reed Matting and coconut husks. The place was small and was jammed when I got there by a crowd that was largely male. I didn't recognize the face, but from the atmosphere I got the feeling I could have retired on 10% of the bail bonds they bought in their time. I found Fred Koo leaning against a potted palm. What do you want? I want to talk to you about Mickey and the Queen. Do you have an office? You a cop too? Only a private one. Oh, sure. Roy. I'm in my office for a little while. If there's any trouble, you'll buzz me. Come on, this way. What a crowd, my friend. Oh sure, sometimes I get a lot of out of town trade. Did you see Mickey, my friend? No, I didn't. I get a long time with Mickey. He won't take any pay off, but he doesn't push me around. How is he? You know his wife? I didn't even know he was married. Her name was Thelma Weaver before Mickey married her. She did some time in Joliet. Why do you bother me with this? I got work to do. You knew Mickey was dead. No, I did not know that. I don't see how it would be enough, but it struck me that if somebody knew he was married to an ex-con, they might try to use the information. I suppose you're right. You know, it's important. Yes, I think so. Be right out. I'll bring the dollar. A little trouble outside. You wait here, I'll come right back. And while I did, I took a quick look around the office for another way out in case I might need it. There wasn't any, unless the steel door and one of the walls was there. But before I could try it, the other door opened. I wasn't expecting Fred Coo to return so quickly, and neither was I expecting who did come in. I don't expect to find you here, Mr. Dollar. Likewise, Mrs. McQueen. What for? I thought I might help. Mickey kept his notebook, you see, where he wrote down all the places he stopped when he made his round. This place was one of them. I thought if I could talk to this Mr. Coo... Do you know, Fred Coo? No. You know anybody named Weaver? Selma Weaver? All right, Mr. That's enough. Reach. Don't be crazy. What good would that do? Stay where you are and don't try anything. She looked like she really meant it. It was a small revolver called 25. I didn't know whether she'd come in meaning to use it on Fred Coo or me, but it didn't make much difference. At the moment, she had it pointed at my midsection. One of your long-time mystery favorites, Philip Marlowe, is now to be heard on CBS on Friday nights. Philip Marlowe, up for parole and songs for sale. That's the lineup of fine shows for Friday now on most of these same CBS stations. Hear them this Friday, hear them every Friday on CBS. The adventures of Philip Marlowe, up for parole and songs for sale. And now back to our star, Edmund O'Brien, and the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dowler. I couldn't figure she held her little revolver as if she was used to the feel of it, but there had been something accuracy about the way she said reach. I couldn't figure her, but I decided not to take a chance. I grabbed up the inkwell from the desk and threw not if, but the contents of it. Hey, what's up? Okay. Drop it. No! I'll sit down. All right, what do you want? Depends on what you want. I told you. I want to find out who killed Mickey. At the apartment earlier today, you didn't think anybody had. What about it? How much do you know? Your name was Thelma Wheeler that you spent two years in Joliet. That's right. After two years in that place, I didn't want to go back to that life and start all over again. I gave the bunch in Chicago the slip and came here. That's how I met Mickey. He rested me, vagrant. What a laugh. I showed up in court the next morning and got me released in his custody. I really felt for the first time like I could start life over again. I know it sounds corny. But good, you make it sound real good. I don't believe me, do you? Sure. I believe you as far as you've gone. I even believed the part about starting a new life. You saw that Mickey had a heart as big as the city and you didn't lose any time moving into it. That was smart. It was about the safest hiding place you could have found. For you, but not for Mickey. How did I know about Fred Poo or the kind of man he is? Somebody spotted me and told me. It was worth any time getting in touch with Chicago. Those men out there, they all from Chicago? Just about the tall one, talks with an English accent. Yeah, I remember. Roy. That's him. He came first. Checked the possibilities on Mickey's beat. Found out about Mickey being moved over to a new job. Where was he being moved? Some desk job. Where? At the police arsenal. The arsenal? How'd they find that out? I told him. I had to. He made me tell him. What are Roy's plans, do you know? Yes. Markport building. The one that has all the wholesale jewelers. Mickey was supposed to help them with the job of that size or they revealed that he was married to an ex-con? That's not enough. They must have more than that. I might as well tell you. Can't hurt me now any more than I've been hurt. His name's Roy Weaver. I'm married to him. He threatened to bring bigamy charges unless Mickey helped them. I didn't do it. The bigamy would be a long stretch. Five years. Mickey would do almost anything that would cause me that. Who killed him? Roy did. I wasn't there. I swear I wasn't. I think Maddie Matthew got through work at 5.30 this morning. Why'd they kill him? Mickey was already for his new job. He had the keys to the arsenal. Here's your gun. If you're on the level you may need this and the caliber's too small for me. What are you going to do? I'm going with the police. Why not use the phone? It'll be tapped. That bunch would be in here before I got started. I wouldn't try it if I were you. Where are you going? I'm going home. I was waiting for Fred Coo, but I guess he decided not to bother. Fred had to leave. Did Mrs. Weaver entertain you with her sordid story? Yeah, it was very pleasant. She's a charming girl. And you were going home to think about it? If you don't mind, get out of my way. I'm afraid I do mind. Isn't chance having Fred and Coo up to the arsenal good night? Carl? Get out of my way. Hey, hey, where are you going? Come on, come on. Come on, get out of here. Fine, Carl. Now, should we go back to the office and wait? Bring the lock, Carl. If you became involved in this, I'd hope there wouldn't have to be any more violence. You did stop him. Yes. Thanks for the buzz, darling. It was a pleasure. Look what the skunk did to my dress. Fred got started all right. He's well on his way. He should be back within the art. Hey, Mr. Weaver, what do we do with this guy? Put him in there and see that he stays quiet. Yeah. Hey, you. Turn around. At least I found out what was behind the steel door I'd noticed earlier in the evening. When my eyes opened and I got accustomed to the light from a single dust-covered bulb, I realized that I was in a sort of wine cellar. There were some bottles, but most of the storage space was taken up by a large and varied assortment of burglar tools. And there were a few weapons, too, but I knew that they were nothing compared to what Fred would bring back if the rate on the arsenal was successful. I glanced at my watch at 11.15, and right after that, I heard the heavy latch in the door being turned. I got back into my position on the floor, closed my eyes, and listened. Don't forget the bars, Carl. We'll need them for the inside doors. Yeah, I got you. Hey, Benson, you take these and I'll bring the rest. Hey, he went to guns in town, Mr. Weaver? We won't need them. We won't need them, sir. The Crocker? Yeah. Listen closely now. We'll be hand scheduled. Both cars are in bank. In the Buick, you'll find the things from the arsenal. Yeah. I want you to move half of them over into the Cadillac. What about the grenades, Fred? They're in a case marked C-N-D-M. Irritant gas, M6. You heard that? I got it. Open the case and put half in the Buick. Most important is the cordite part of the bolt. There are two boxes. Put one in the trunk of each car, all right? Be careful with the touchy stuff. I know, I'll handle it, sir. All right, get along then. Hurry. They won't take long. Now, Fred, you'll be in charge of one car. I'll be in the other. That's all right. We're agreed that we'll meet at the north entrance at a quarter past midnight, both to approach the building from the east on Lincoln. Oh, that's the best. You'll have dropped two men to guard the south entrance. Two of my men will subdue the guard at the north. They're better. They'll spring your alarm in big hurry. You can trust me. They'll do something. Selma? Yes, sir. How are you going? Don't be so snoopy. I'm going to part of my nose. Do you want me to? I don't need you, but I don't think I should feel safe without you, will you? Don't be long. I'll be right back. I think everything's bloody from in here, Mr. Weaver. Good. Go to the cars then, Carl. What about the shameless? Well, we'll lock him up again. We'll decide what to do when we come back. Well, I guess he found cars no harm in them. I tried to force the door using one of the bars they left behind, but no luck. Then I started poking the cement walls. I knew better than to expect to find any other exit, but with the biggest burglary and the history of Hartford underway, I had to do something. I kept a check on the time, and it was 20 minutes before they were due to arrive at the Marquardt building when a sound stopped me. The steel door was being opened. I moved behind it, still holding the bar. How'd you know I was here? Some dame for a hotel. I told me you were here. What did she call you? I don't even know who it was. She just said she knew you came to the hotel and you were locked up in here. I mentioned the cow-cutter to you. Talk to him over to see what it was all about. It's a matter, don't you believe me? I don't know what to believe. I said you were holding something out on me when I talked to you. I was. I knew Fred Coog was telling me information about Mickey's wife to someone done from Chicago. I knew it could have led to trouble. No, I didn't just tell me. He said it was my own good. I thought it was mine, too. I didn't want you to know so much. You'd have to tell me you learned to prove how smart you were. I don't like this kind of stuff. You got a car. Yes, but it seems like we're parking here. Tell me what's going on. The Chicago bunch raided the police arsenal. They're armed with everything from cordite to Tommy Gunn. They're going into the Marquardt building in less than 20 minutes. Wholesale jewelers. Would you take me out there? Take me to the partway if you're cooking. If you want to go. That's good enough. Let's get back into the office. Would you want the police? Yeah. We could stop on the way. Take us 15 minutes to get to the Marquardt building. We run into a patrol car on the way. We'll stop it if we don't. You can drop me and then phone in. Where's your car? The speed we traveled we should have at least picked up a traffic cop if we didn't. Martin wouldn't take me any further than the corner of Atlantic and Milton. We reached there at 12 minutes after 12. That gave me two minutes to get to the Marquardt building. I didn't make it before they arrived, but it didn't make any difference. Both cars had pulled up and were unloading men on our doorway about 50 yards down. I spotted Fred Kuhl and Roy Weaver. Then I saw a film. She got out of the Buick and started toward me. Where you going? Weaver shouted at her that she didn't ask her. Instead she stopped and I saw the little gun glitter in her hand as she turned back to them. Then I saw what she was aiming at. The trunk of the Buick where the cordite powder was. I went up in a blast of powder on gasoline and moved back towards the other. Someone who had survived the first explosion opened fire on her. I saw her fall, but after she was down she raised herself and her last shot connected with the cordite from the second car. By the time I got to her, both cars were flaming wrecks. I picked her up and ran. You're all right now, Philman. Johnny? Yeah. Where are we? We're still near the Marquardt building. I'm going to get you to a hospital. As far as I know, yeah. I did a terrible thing, didn't I, Johnny? Yeah, pretty good. I'm not sorry. You wanted to stop them, but I couldn't let you. I wanted to get them all up to what they did to Mickey. Don't talk now. Getting just through it wouldn't have been enough. It would have been easy, but not enough. They were all in it. It was the only way the cordite, Mickey, wouldn't have liked me doing that, would he? He was so honest. He had to do everything illegal. Well, he wouldn't have liked anything of you. He might have been proud of you. I am. And you think you would have been? You really do? A bad man I've never lived. Too bad I wasn't. Anyway, I took care of the big of me. They can't send me back to Delhi yet. That was it. Telma Weaver McQueen, as the department knows, was DOA, an emergency hospital. None of the mob got out alive except Roy Weaver, who lived long enough to sign a confession of Mickey McQueen's murder. I want you to know that I may have lost a good friend, but you have lost a better policeman. I hope to see those early news accounts that called them a suicide corrected. Expense account total, zero dollars, zero cents. It goes truly Johnny Dollar. Yours truly Johnny Dollar stars Edmund O'Brien in the title role and is written by Gil Dowd with music composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Edmund O'Brien can currently be seen starring in the Columbia Pictures production, 7-Eleven Ocean Drive, featured in tonight's cast were Bill Conrad, Virginia Greg, Ben Wright, Jim Nussar, and Dan O'Hurley. Yours truly Johnny Dollar was produced and directed in Hollywood by Jaime Del Valle. Join us next week at this time when from Hollywood, Edmund O'Brien returns in another adventure of Yours truly Johnny Dollar. Every Thursday night, CBS brings you a top Hollywood star in a new radio play on the Hollywood theater, comedy and melodrama, fantasy and mystery. Stay tuned now for the Hollywood theater which follows over many of these same CBS stations. This is CBS where Philip Marlowe takes the case every Friday night, the Columbia Broadcasting System.