 The Linux show starring Nick Carter, master detective, presented by Acme, America's great producer of fine quality paints. The story of a man known the world over, as one of the most daring and resourceful characters in the history of detective fiction, a man whose name has become a symbol of the triumph of right and justice over the sinister forces of crime and lawlessness, a man recognized as one of the great masters of deduction, Nick Carter, master detective. Today's exciting case, the hanging paper hanger. Another exciting chapter dramatized from the life story of Nick Carter. In just a moment we'll hear how Nick Carter investigated the strange case of a landlord who decorated an old lady's apartment against her will and how a broken perfume bottle caught a murderer. August means dog days and dog days mean heat, but you can have plenty of time for cool leisurely relaxation when you do your home making the easy Linux way. 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This lady says she's an old friend of yours. Well, I don't know whether you'll recollect me, Mr. Carter. Now you're a great and famous man. Remember you? Why, of course I have you. How are you, Mrs. Nelson? In ages since we've seen you. Well, now you do remember. It's been ten years since I cooked for you, ma'am. This is my secretary, Patsy Bo. How'd you do? Nelson is the greatest apple pie baker in the East. Thank you kindly, Mr. Carter. Well, what can I do for you, Mrs. Nelson? Well, sir, oh, it's a funny thing. I've got a job now over at the Maxwell Manufacturing Plant. I clean up nights. So I live near as I can to the plant to save traveling time, you see. Oh, it's a very nice little boarding house and a very nice man runs it, Mr. Harrow. Now, I didn't have any complaints until now. Well, what's happened, Mrs. Nelson? Well, you see, it's like this. I like a bit of color in my room, so I pasted things on the wall. All kinds of bright ribbon, bright labels and colored pictures. It makes a kind of patchwork quilt, you see. Oh, must be very pleasant. Oh, it was, Mr. Carter, until yesterday. Mr. Harrow, my landlord, is a paper hanger by profession. And yesterday I come home from work to find that he'd papered the whole room with new wallpaper. He'd just covered over everything. You didn't know he was going to do it? Oh, no, sir, it comes as an awful shock. I says to him, I says, Mr. Harrow, you take that paper off. I want my own decorations back. And he says, Mrs. Nelson, you got wallpaper free, gratis and for nothing. And you just be grateful. He didn't paper any other room in the house? Oh, no, sir, no. How about how big a room do you have? A midland-sized room, sir. So you're upset because you've lost your own decorations and you want to know why a landlord should paper your wall without you even asking for it? Oh, it's worse than that, sir. Oh. I know why he won't take that paper off. There's code on it, that's what. And he's a spy, that's what he is, Mr. Carter, and that's why I've come to you. Ah, I see. Well, Mrs. Nelson, we can't let an old friend down. We'll go right out with you and investigate this coded wallpaper. Oh, thank you, sir. And even if there are no spies involved, we'll see if we can't get your old decorations back. Nothing's too good for the champion apple pie baker of the East. Denying that, Miss, all I'm saying is I don't want it here. Well, now, let's see that code you spoke about. Right on the border, sir. You see, there's a squiggly line with dots and dashes around it. And I thought that... Ah, yes, yes, I see. Well, that is a conventional design, Nick. It's repeated over and over. It couldn't be code. Yes, I'm afraid Patsy's right. Spy angle is out, Mrs. Nelson. Oh. And the other question isn't answered. Why did the landlord suddenly give you a new wallpaper for no apparent reason? Well, I don't know, sir. Maybe there was something valuable on the wall that he wanted. Perhaps. Exactly what did you use to decorate your walls with, Mrs. Nelson? Well, like I said, sir, old calendars and labels and ribbons. Any old shares of stock? Oh, now what would I be doing with stock shares, Miss? Here, here, I've got some stuff saved up that I was going to use. I'll show it to you. Right in my closet, you can see for yourself. It wasn't anything... Ah! Oh, Mr. Connors, sir. Oh, get him out of here. Get away from here. All right, all right. Get him, Mrs. Nelson. Tell me, who is it? It's Mr. Harold, my landlord. I'm himself in the closet hook. Yes. And he's unquestionably dead. Down the sitting room, she's feeling a little better. Golly, what a mess. Yes. She begged me not to send for the police. She's afraid if she gets mixed up in a police case, she'll never get another job. But you've got to call the police in on a suicide, don't you? We're not going to call in the police. And this wasn't suicide. Me? Look here, Patsy. Harold apparently hung himself from this hook high up in the closet wall, right? Yes. How did he get there? Well, he stood on that clothes hamper under his feet, tied him out around his neck into the hook, and then hung himself. Then how do you account for the fact that the clothes hamper is 15 inches under his dangling feet? Oh. What did he do? Jump up, pull himself up? Impossible. And it's murder. With a capital M. Oh, Nick, we'd better call in the police. And just about ruin everything for Mrs. Nelson? What did an officer of Sergeant Matheson's caliber say when he found a man murdered in Mrs. Nelson's room after they'd had a fight about wallpaper? Oh, yes. And he'd have no choice but to lock her up and hold her on suspicion of murder. Exactly. I said I'd do Mrs. Nelson a favor and I will. I'll crack this case with a minimum of trouble for her. I don't like it, Nick, but what do we do? Look here, Patsy, you can't miss the connection. The murder is tied up with the wallpaper. Well, that's right. The only trouble is much the wallpaper tied up with. Something on the wall. Okay. Run your fingers along the wall. Feel a lumpy pattern of Mrs. Nelson's decorations under the paper. Mr. Harrow did not put up that paper to steal anything from underneath. And why did he? The obvious answer to conceal something. Conceal what? What I'd like to find out. Come on down to Harrow's rooms. Mrs. Nelson said it was in the back of the house. Probably find his paper-hanging equipment there. And then what? Then we're going to rip this paper off the wall. Ordinary-looking bedroom. Patsy. Yes, Nick. Okay. Stop with the fear. Kind of a guy who loves Harrow anyway. Six bottles of perfume. All brand new. And expensive. You don't buy any one of them for less than $60. Hmm. For $300 worth of perfume in the room of the boarding house landlord. Yeah. This is beginning to get curiouser and curiouser as Alice in Wonder... Stop. Behind the bed. He shot out the light. Quiet, quiet. It was the killer and he came after the perfume bottle. Come on. Where? Out the front door. Quick. All right, wise guy. All right. You wound up... Well, well. Mr. Nick Carter and company. Sergeant Madison. Hi, Maddie. Just in time. Did you see a man come out before us? Just in time for what? Oh, you know about that? No about it. What do you think I'm not doing out here? Listen, Maddie, we've got to work fast. The killer is... Never mind the fast talk, Nick. I want a couple of quiet words with you. You know why I came out here? I'm listening impatiently. I get a call ten minutes ago. Guy by the name of Harold just bumped off. That's right. And the call said he was bumped off by none other than Nick Carter himself. Oh, hold on. Oh, thank you, sir. Sergeant, you can't think that Nick... Now listen, Patsy. I'm not saying I believe Nick killed anybody, but you better explain how he neglected to notify homicide as soon as he found the body. That's a criminal offense in this city. I'll explain in a few minutes, Maddie. Come on in the same room. Oh, more tricks, huh? You pulled some fast ones on me in your time, Nick. Now listen, this is Gospel. There's a little old lady in there, a friend of mine. Her name is Mrs. Nelson. She'll explain how Patsy and I came into this case. Okay, okay. Mrs. Nelson, we're sorry to bother you, but... Nick. The place is empty. Where's the old lady you're going to produce? Mrs. Nelson. Mrs. Nelson. Never mind shouting, Patsy. I'm afraid Mrs. Nelson's gone. And from the look in Maddie's eyes, I'm afraid we're in a jam. A murder committed because of wallpaper, a killer who steals perfume bottles, and a disappearing witness. How is Nick going to straighten this out with Sergeant Matheson barking over his shoulder? We'll see in just a moment. There's an old saying that if you want something done well, it's best to do it yourself. But nowadays, the truth is this. 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Once you've tried it, you'll follow the example of all the wise American homemakers who use it regularly. Ask your dealer now for Linux self-polishing wax, for all three great Linux home brightness, the modern shortcuts to household care. And now back to our story. Investigating the strange complaint of Mrs. Nelson that her landlord has tapered the walls of her room against her wishes, Nick discovers the landlord murdered. In the dead man's bedroom, Nick finds six bottles of expensive perfume which are stolen by the killer in a daring attack. Nick's pursuit of the killer is stopped by Sergeant Matheson, who arrives after an anonymous call told him of the murder and accused Nick. But when Nick tried to produce Mrs. Nelson to prove his story, she vanished. Now Nick, Patsy and Matty meet in the front hall after searching the house. No use, Nick. We've been through the house from top to bottom. It's empty. Which means I'm accused of the murder and kidnapping, huh? Now I won't say that. I know you're no crook, but I wouldn't put it past you to hijack a witness. If you thought it would help you to solve the case. Not this time, Matty. Well, where in place is she? Probably in the hands of the killer. Probably grabbed her after he ducked into Harold's bedroom under our noses and grabbed the perfume. Hey, what's all this about perfume and wallpaper? What's the connection, Nick? You're the policeman, Matty. I'm just an ordinary citizen. No, no, no. Don't take it that way, Nick. I never said you weren't useful. Now and then, I just... All right, Matty. Just my little joke. Now, here's the setup. A murderer killed Harold and tried to frame the death as a suicide in Mrs. Nelson's room. Right. Never knew the killer wanted a silent Harold. About what? About why Harold papered Mrs. Nelson's wall. So there is something hidden on the wall. There is. Something tied up with the bottles of perfume stolen from Harold's room. Killer probably ducked out the back way with the bottles of Mrs. Nelson. We better get up to Mrs. Nelson's room and get that wallpaper down. Right. Yeah, hold it. Somewhere at the front door. Looks like a man. Stand by. Hi there, brother. Hey, what are you... Mr. Speeler Wilson, isn't it? The best pitch man in the city. Sidewalk spills and sales of specialty. What are you doing here, Speeler? Ah, gee, Sergeant, you give me a scare for a minute. I ain't doing nothing here. I oughtn't. I live here. You live here? How interesting. Matty. Yeah. Suppose you have somebody get that wallpaper off Mrs. Nelson's wall. So I just put on some recently that you should get it off a lot disturbing what's underneath it. Okay, Nick. And, Speeler, suppose we go up to your room. What the fuck do you... about a murder? She's been pals over a year. I gotta her job. Over at the Maxwell plant? Yeah. That doesn't make sense, Speeler. Mrs. Nelson said she moved in here to be near her job to save traveling time. I was sure it makes sense. I didn't say I didn't know her before she moved in. I got her the job and got her to live here. You know anything more about her? How she spent her time? Well, not much. She cleaned up in the plant from six to midnight. Came home around one. Didn't usually get up till ten. Used to hang around the house most weeks. Hey, Nick. Come on in. We got most of the paper off. Coming, Maddie. One last question, Speeler. What did you have in that satchel you were carrying when you came in? Mind if I have a look? No, Mr. Kearney, but I wouldn't interest you. It's just the stuff I've been pitching on the streets these days. Ah. Wouldn't interest me, would it? Look here, Patsy. Garly. Bottles and bottles of perfume. Most of the paper off, Nick. Oh, what a job that was. Incidentally, what did you get out of Speeler? A few interesting facts. Most interesting is the fact that he's pitching perfume these days. Well, for the lover, what didn't the killer steal perfume from Harrah's room? Yes. What are we waiting for? Some real evidence. Not enough, Maddie. No, no, no. Coincidence. One of your men, Tale Wilson. Yes, but Nick... Listen, Maddie, you don't seem to understand. I want to break this case and I want to do it before Mrs. Nelson's hurt. He's been taken by the killer. That means he isn't ready to kill her yet, but he may make up his mind soon. We've got to get it before that. Yeah, how? Well, let's look at these walls. It's obvious. Some clue here that points to the killer. We've got to find it. Okay. Money of calendar scenes. Lots of colored paper. Mrs. Nelson had a rather gaudy take. Oh. Call it bright. Oh. Here are labels. These look like hat box designs. And over here look like drug labels. Drugs? Not comics? Maybe. Only here's something that's a lot more interesting. Patsy. Mm-hmm. Remember the name of the perfume stolen from Harrah's room? Yes, it was Paris's danger. And the name of the perfume Spieler is selling? Paris is exotic. And here are labels all from the Paris firm. Exotic, danger, nuance and so on. So what? Why did Mrs. Nelson get hold of them? Well, she bought them or she picked them up somewhere. She didn't buy them. You can't buy exclusive firm labels. And she didn't pick this many up just somewhere. Where would you find 50 perfume labels all at once? Well, maybe she got them off old perfume bottles. Best suggestion so far. Only one hit, Patsy. And the material Mrs. Nelson had in her closet for decorating her walls are 10 more perfume labels. And they're all brand new. The muesliage on the backs is fresh and untouched. Well, for the love of Pete, Nick. What's it mean? It means Patsy and I are going down to the Paris company and find out where their labels are made. There's got to be a tie-in between them and murder. It is an aunt you wish to stick with me on matter of business. I am at your service. Very kind of you, Madam Paris. You are, Madam Paris. Eh, oui. Let me introduce myself. I'm Nick Carter. This is my secretary, Miss Patsy Bowen. Ah, it is good to meet you, Mr. Carter. I... Did you say Nick Carter? The Nick Carter? That's right. Careful, Madam Paris. Your accent's showing. Oh, never mind the phony accent. That's for the customers. What's on your mind, Miss Carter? It's a case of murder. And I think you may be able to tell me something that'll help. Anything. Anything you say. Paris Incorporated is a pretty big artwork. One of the biggest cosmetic manufacturers in the world. Do you manufacture all your products yourself? We do. How about the container? Oh, we make those too. Who does the packing and handling? We do. Print your own labels? Design and print them ourselves. But I don't see what this has got to do with murder. A murder has been committed. And I think it centers around some of your products. Will you tell me where this particular perfume label is designed and printed? Let's see. Exotic. Oh, that's a funny thing, Mr. Carter. What's funny? We gave up that line more than a year ago. I'd say we haven't manufactured any of these labels in over a year. Very interesting. Will there be any stock on hand? Any place in the city where they could be obtained? Mr. Carter, exclusive labels are like money. You keep them in a safe. There aren't any of these in stock. And if there were, they wouldn't be where anyone could get hold of them. It's a piece of cake, Nick. Will you explain where... Why, Betsy? All right, thanks a lot, Madame Pears. We won't trouble you anymore. It's been a pleasure. Beauxsois. Monsieur Carter? Me d'oeil va? It's been a pleasure. Let me know if you apprehend this murder. I will name the few left of the case. Killer Vice Barry. This is awful. Looks like we aren't going to get anywhere with this case. You're wrong, Betsy. Get into the car. You mean you found something? Even though Madame Pears... Madame Pears said plenty. Get in. Fuck Pete again. Good Carter, just drove off. I know, get in quick. Get your eye on him. Is it the killer? After us? Yes. Can you still see the car? Yes, it's up ahead. Turning into that side street. That's the license number. Get it down. I can't see it. He's battered it with mud. Hold on. We're making the turn after him. Okay. See him? I think so. He's turning again up ahead. We'll get him on the front tire. Seems like we ran through a mess of broken glass. A little too coincidental to be real. Come on, Betsy. Right. Let's have a look at that glass. It needs to be Mr. Killer's a very smart person. A mess of broken glass. Throw it out behind this car. It'll be just a thing to slow up any pursuers. And here we are. Hey, Cratch. They're perfume bottles. They must be the ones stolen from Harold's room. Throwing overboard to save the killer's skin. I'm afraid it didn't work this time. You want to know why, Betsy? Why? Because this is a side street and all I can smell is uncollected garbage. My Nick, I... Are you crazy? Don't get it together. All right. Wait till I call Mattie and get a police car. And we'll call on the killer and let him explain himself. The door of a war plant. This is the department that prints labels and things. They're here. The press is working. Me? Do you mean Madame Harris was wrong? I think she said that... Quiet, Frederick. We're going into this office here. I want you all to follow my lead. Right? Yeah, but Nick, I... Here we go. Yes, where is it? Mr. Maxwell? Yes, who are you? I believe you've seen me before. I'm Nick Carter. What do you want, Mr. Carter? A confession. Confession of what? Of the murder of Mr. Harold, the kidnapping of Mrs. Nelson, and of the smartest racket ever worked in this city. You're not a pitting, valuable label. You're out of your mind, Carter. Out of my mind, am I? Mattie, bring in Mrs. Nelson. I'd see what Mr. Maxwell says when she confronts him. Oh, okay. So you've got Mrs. Nelson outside, huh? You fool, you think that bluff will work on me? You haven't got... We haven't worked, Mr. Maxwell. Go ahead. Nothing. You're going to say we haven't got Mrs. Nelson, huh? Only one person could know that, Mr. Maxwell. And that's the killer. The only way you could know whether or not Mrs. Nelson has been rescued is because you yourself are the killer. In just a moment, Nick will be back to give you the final details of today's story and explain how he knew Maxwell murdered the hanging paper hanger. Fine furniture is a proud possession for any family, but furniture doesn't keep its good looks without help. Keep your household things beautiful with Linux Cream Polish, the modern shortcut to furniture care. 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And now let's hear from Nick Carter himself. You know, Nick, I was surprised when we found Mrs. Nelson hidden away in Maxwell's plant as we did. Well, as I deduced earlier, Patsy, Maxwell wasn't ready to kill her until he found out exactly how much she'd told us about his racket. He suspected her because she brought me into the case. But she really knew nothing. Well, that's the point, Patsy. On the side, Maxwell counterfeited rare and expensive labels. Mrs. Nelson used to pick some up while she was cleaning around the plant. And she brought them home to decorate her walls. But she never realized anything shady was going on. No, of course not. Now, Speeler Wilson bought his faulty labels from Maxwell for the faulty perfume he sold. And when he saw some of those labels on Mrs. Nelson's walls, he warned Maxwell that someone else might see them and get wise to their racket. So to cover up quietly, Maxwell had Harold paper over the walls. Unfortunately, Harold probably got wise when he found the fresh labels on Mrs. Nelson's closet the one she was saving to put on the walls. He took some down with him and prepared phony bottles of perfume. Pasted the labels on and had plenty of evidence to blackmail Maxwell. So Maxwell killed him and then came back to the bottles and we were there. Right. All of Maxwell's efforts centered around covering up a million-dollar racket. He killed Harold for this. He trailed me. And when it seemed I was finding out his secret that Madam Parris tried to kill me. Nick, that brings us to your crack about smelling garbage after you stopped us by throwing those perfume bottles in front of our car. That was obvious, fancy. If there'd been real perfume in those bottles, we'd have smelled nothing but perfume. As we didn't, it showed the bottles contained doped up water, proving definitely that bottles, perfume and labels were all phony. Oh. Well, Nick, what story have you got for next week? Well, that's your next week. We have a very strange case. I received a letter from a housemaid in a wealthy home on Park Avenue. Oh, yeah.