 I hope St. Peter's listening. This report may one day help qualify me for that pass for the pearly gate. This case almost rushed me up there. This is another adventure of America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, Johnny Dollar. At insurance investigation, Johnny Dollar is just an expert. At making out his expense account, he is an absolute genius. Expense account submitted by special investigator Johnny Dollar. To special investigator Johnny Dollar. This one's on the house. I wouldn't even bother itemizing it except that the whole thing is probably tax deductible. The following is an accounting of my expenditures during my investigation of Bonnie Goodwin. Or she was under 21, but that didn't mean she was involved with nothing but minor visors. Or murder ain't minor. Expense account item one. $12.40. Scotch whiskey and cigars consumed at the prize party arranged for me by one Mr. King Hart at my apartment in Hartford, Connecticut at 1.25 in the morning. And which one of us is in the wrong apartment? Neither one of us. I'm King Hart. I came down from New York to see you. I hope you don't mind my helping myself with cigar while I was waiting. Oh no, no, no. I'd even join you in a drink of my Scotch. Scotch, only I don't think I can squeeze it out of a fork. I'll send you a chase. Send me a copy of your passkey while you're at it. Maybe I can drop in on you sometime. This verge is on the illegal. Let's not waste time trying to scare each other, huh? That's not business. What is your business? Well, that verge is on the legal. That's why I need you. And your racket, you're well enough known to do me some good. In mine, I'm too well known to do it myself. So what? Find a girl for me. Wait a minute. I'm in the insurance business. Where's the girl? She's the beneficiary of my insurance policy. This is a very unusual case. I would just suck her. The way that policy is written, I need her signature to do what I want to do. Change the beneficiary? Yeah. I'm all set to marry an honest name. She's lovely. Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Hart, I may get a habit to work for big insurance companies, not individuals. Sorry. I'll come. I can't look up your credit rating and done in Brant Street. Look it up on this wallet. Go ahead. I'll be bashful. Well, you're solving. Corners of these bills look like tally on a baseball scoreboard. One run on the first and then three goose eggs. Help yourself. Ah, not the best. Your money may be okay, but aren't your story. What about it? Look, is any number of good licensed private detectors that you could have gone to? Philip Marlowe, Sam Spade, and Richard Diamond. And he would not only have solved your case, he would also sing you a song. Why did you come to me? I thought you had me straight. I don't like detectives. I'm allergic to coppers, throwers, semi-pros, so is the girl. Look, darling, all you have to do is find the girl, get her signature on the form, and bring it back. Is that so tough? Well, my wisdom tooth still finds it a little tough to chew. I'd like to see the follow-up. Sure. I brought it with me. There you are. Wow. Is this a motive-sized policy? A hundred grand. How'd you ever get it, Mr. Hart? When I took it out, I was a haberdasher. Specializing, no doubt, in bulletproof vest-style by Hart Shatner and U.S. Steel. Oh, yes. Beneficiary. Bonnie Goodwin, that's fair. Well, before I can start looking, I should know where she stopped being around. Chicago. You'll find that and a lot of other stuff about her stapled to the back of the policy. You're the very model of efficiency. I should be. As a model prisoner, I ran the accounting department at Leavenworth for five years. Thanks for not being bashful about your past. It makes it easy for me not to be bashful about asking you for something. What's that? My assignment and writing. I just don't want anybody to get the wrong idea about my association with you. That's okay. All right. If you pay for the ticket, I guess I'm ready to take the ride. How much? A $3,000 retainer, and I'll bill you for my expenses. It's a deal. And don't hesitate to travel first class. Don't worry, Mr. Hart. Don't worry. Spence account, item two, $55.32, plane fare, Hartford to Chicago. Spence account, item three, $4. Cab fare from airport to downtown. Takes about half as long to get from the Chicago airport to downtown as it does for Hartford to Chicago airport. I checked into the ambassador by intended to live first class. And expense account, item four, $1.20. Cab fare to the Muriel Arm, a female hostelry where I didn't expect to live, but which was Bonnie Goodman's last known address. Even at noon, it looked like a good place to start an investigation by either the police, the fire, or the sanitation department. Oh, I shouldn't give you pronunciate. It's Thursday. Muriel Arm. Hello, Muriel Arm. I'm sorry, Ms. Lamb. Let the notice servant go $2.30. Hello, Muriel Arm. Call back after $2.30, please. Pardon me. Muriel Arm. No, she isn't. She'll be back in five days. Hey! Yes, sir. Where can I find the room clerk? That's me. Oh, good. I'm looking for a girl who used to live here. Her name's Goodman. You remember? Oh, the little princess. Yeah, I remember. I'm trying to forget her. Well, I'm trying to find her. You know where she went from here? No, and I don't care. One of the girls that you saw are hanging around Emma's place. That's over on West Street. You'll hear it before you see it. I'm sorry, Ms. That's all I got time for. He's calling up a hello. Muriel Arm. We have parts under. Oh, thank you. Where can I find Emma? I'm Emma. And no jokes. What do you want? I'm looking for a girl named Bonnie Goodman. She ain't around. We told her she wasn't wanted around here. Oh, that's your business. My business is to find her. Who are you? The law. Well, from the law of averages. The insurance fitter. And you're selling insurance. You're going the right way. She needs some. I'm looking for her. I'm looking for a girl named Bonnie Goodman. She ain't around. We told her she wasn't wanted around here. Well, that's your business. My business is to find her. Who are you? The insurance. You're going the right way. She needs some. Why'd you try the Flagler Apartments? Not only did the Flagler Apartments fail to produce Bonnie Goodman, but sorted about 18 other wayward way stations scattered from the loop to the far north side. She was an easy girl to follow, but a hard girl to find. One of the things they learned along the trail was that Bonnie's heart was apparently no express train. It made a lot of local stops. One of the things I was reminded of during the Tejas search was a philosophy passed along to me by an attendant aide. By an old Pinkerton operator, he said, being a detective is 90% like work, just like being a mailman with no address on the letter. That's account item five, 1495 shoe leather. My brogens and my nerve ends were worn to a prassle by eight o'clock that night when I went snipping up my latest lead, which took me to the desk of a tasty little flea bag on beer bus. It felt like you were picking up the seven-year itch just walking into the lobby. Yes, Johnny. Are you looking for somebody? Yeah. And if I don't find her soon, I think I'll just sit still and let her find me. What do you get? Bonnie Goodman. You know her? As much as I know any of them, I guess. Is she still here? No. Well, do you know where she is? No. All I know is she moved out of here. As I asked her till this morning. Tell me, what makes this kid so popular? She makes me nervous. I don't like the people she brings around. You mean me, Grandma? Or do you mean you don't like her choice of friend? I didn't say they were friends. No, I'm a new talker. Speak. Now, wait a minute. I've got a problem. Now listen, little boy. I'm awful good at not talking when I don't feel like it. Right now I don't. Take yourself some time and get out of here. Okay. Now I know what was wrong with that little Red Riding Hood story. Grandma with the wolf. Boo! Yeah, I think I want to talk to you. No way, don't bother me. You were asking about Bonnie, weren't you? I'm offended, mate. Oh? Well, where can we talk? Well, we... We'd better get away from this lobby window. Come on. Where are you headed? Out of town? Huh? Oh. All this suitcase? No, I just came back to the last martin. Bonnie and I took an apartment today. You're a roommate, huh? Yeah. What do you want with us? Wait a minute. Can you think of any good reason why two men should be following you? Where? Don't turn around. Where can I meet you? You're not going to leave me. You're just long enough to get where we're going. Where's the good place? The hangover house. I'm not smart. Who do I ask for when I get there? What's your name? I can't even take it. Why can't I go with you? I want to find out who's being followed. You or me. There's a hat stand. You take the first can. I'll take the second. They'll and I'll be taking the third and then we'll know. What did you find out? Oh, nothing, Janie. Those guys pitched me the biggest curve since lefty Grove. What does that mean? Oh, we took two cabs, so they took two cabs. One of them followed me, so it figures one of them followed you. Any idea why? Now, wait a minute, mister. First, I got to get you straight. I just stepped up on a hunt because you don't look like the other one. Who are you and what do you want with Bonnie? My name is Johnny Dollar. My business? Insurance. Insurance? Yeah. Who's dead? King Hart? Did I hear a hopeful note in your voice, Janie? Well, is he? In my business, I've learned never to give a definite answer to that question. But as far as I know, he's still alive. He was when I saw him yesterday. He hired me to find Bonnie because he wants to get her name off his life insurance policy. As simple as that. That's gunk. That's the way he put us through. You can file this question under N for none of my business, but just what city? He'd build her way up and then he'd drag her way down. And she's still too good for him, for anybody who works for him. I'm getting out of here. Maybe I told you too much about my business. Just enough. You're trying to help King Hart take away the only thing he left her. If I have my way, she'll never sign away the money from that insurance policy. Good night. This was the first chance I'd had all day to make anything happen. With a little luck, Janie Fage was gonna finally bird dog me straight to the little chick who had flown so many coups, thus making herself so hard to find. And she started down the 60 foot length of the long narrow bar toward the back door. I saw two familiar hulks launch out of their chairs up in the front door. They were after her, and too big for me. Our opponents from that game of taxi tag. So I set about stopping them. I took advantage of the narrow room, the big crowd, and a little bitty drunk. I hated to do it, but I had to turn the bottle baby into a bottleneck. I hope he was too numb to care. Hey, lay off the little guy. Come on, let me. Oh, hey. Get out of our way. If you like mob scenes, it was a great go-round when it lasted. But it only lasted 40 seconds. Then we got upstage by some off-scene action out in the back alley. The crowd went out to look. I didn't. Somehow I knew. My live lead had turned into a dead one. And a morning news flash over my hotel room radio read the funeral services over what little remained of my home. Youngs roared on Chicago's Northside again late last night when since slugs tore the life out of a shooting reminiscing of the early 30s. Listed at the city. In just a moment, we'll return to the second act of Johnny Dollar. But first, a burly sea captain, a fashion designer, a neurotic young gun collector, and a wealthy socialite. One of them very much dead. These are the elements police commissioner Bill Grant faces in his adventure on Call the Police tonight. Join Bill Grant for the thrills of the case as he sets out to solve the case of the Hero's Funeral. And then take in Sam Spade's latest two-fisted adventure, Well Spiced with Wisecrack. Bill Grant of Call the Police and Sam Spade, like Johnny Dollar, are regular Sunday visitors on most of the same CBS station. Now with our star, Charles Russell, we return to the second act of Your Truly, Johnny Dollar. I'm 6, 2250. Replacement of one hotel room radio which I punched in the dial. After that told me that the girl I've been using as a bird dog the night before was really the bird that I had spent an hour with Bonnie Goodwin looking for Bonnie Goodwin. I agree that isn't the proper way to turn off the radio, but the fight up to that time has been one-sided. I had to throw one punch even if the fight was all over. But then the bell rang, calling the end of my corner for another round. The bell on my telephone. Hello. Hello, Dollar. Yeah? This is King Art. I just got from town on the airport. Well, 9 a.m. news travels fast. You got private lines to the major morgues of the country? I'm not sure, Hart. It could be that you used me for a lead-off man on a relay team. You hire me to find that girl that hires some gum in the following. And when I find her, boom! Now wait a minute, Dollar. From now on it looks like you don't have to worry about who's going to collect on your insurance. Do you by any chance collect on hers? I tell them I lie in these days. And flying 800 miles just to be at the scene of the crime has never been one of my habits. I'm not so sure you just flew in, but I'm dead sure that I'm not on your payroll any longer. Dollar, listen to me. You'll listen. I didn't follow through last night because I didn't want to be picked up as a material worker. But first I'm going out to prove a few things that keep me from being picked up, and then I'm going to make my report to the police. Aren't you telling the gun dollar? You know more about guns than I do. I learned a lot about Bonnie Goodman when I was tracking her down yesterday. And one thing I learned, I like her kind better than I do yours. It wasn't anybody around to help her last night when she needed it. But I'll bet you had plenty of help making your first big mistake. Probably from you. Morgue is a masterpiece of refrigeration. Just thinking of one can give me a real cold chill. When I walk into one, I feel an icicle forming on each separate vertebrae in my spine. And when I start walking out of one, I feel the ice begin to melt. Do yourself any good? Maybe. Thanks for letting me go through a thing. Here, buy some jar. Oh, this will buy a box. It's a big dip. It should be. You've been a big help. I'd go into the morgue to find an address. And I'd found, in the suitcase, Monogram VG for Bonnie Goodman. I also found that the body had been identified by her roommate. I'm with a friend of Bonnie Goodman. I want to talk to him. You're no friend of hers. I knew them all. Leave me alone. There's nothing to talk about. He's dead, isn't she? Yeah. I have a pretty personal interest in him. I was with her just before she walked into the alley. And you might be interested to know that she was using your name. How do you know? You don't know my name. It's Janie Page. He is packing. I might be unpacking. When you're packed, you fold things on the bed. And you want to keep them on hangers and take them out of the bag. You know where you're going? You better close the door. Well... I don't have to be a quiz kid to figure out that you're leaving because you're scared. Probably running away from the same thing Bonnie didn't have a chance to run away from. I'd like to find out what it is. Bonnie didn't have any big brothers looking out for her. What's your angle? I'll write it down for you. About 10% of my interest is keeping myself from being implicated in what happened last night. The other 90% might get me a merit badge and a Boy Scout troop. I'm trying to do my good deed for the day. I'd like to see somebody get paid off. Who's your candidate? King Arthur? He's one of the people she was afraid of. That little girl, she had a lot of people after her. She's double-crossed too much, talked too much, or just no too much. No too much. About what kind of thing? The kind of thing smart people stay away from. Wasn't she? Couldn't. A girl being mixed up with the wrong people is an insurable disease. You just wait it out. You see what you mean? You can't throw a bad reputation into reverse. You can stamp a compliment. You strike me as being a gal who might have a better chance than most of the busting for this unsmart sex. I can't figure you out. What do you really want from me? What are you doing here? Who are you working for? I always feel sorry for you, kids. Particularly the nature ones. Who knows? Maybe I'm just being selfish. Maybe this is a good chance for me to show off in front of heaven. I'd like to revise those percentages. From now on, let's call it 10% me, 10% Boy Scout, and 80% you. Now that I've cut you in for most of the profits, I'll get some help. I haven't got much to give you, but I think it was too hard. Why? Is that insurance policy? That'll be one good reason. And the others? She brushed him. He wanted to marry her, but she brushed him. He was a crazy killer. Jean Hart claims he was in New York at the time of the shooting. If he can prove it, he's clear. But assuming that he did have some gun work to do in Chicago, who would he hire to do it? Do I name Joe Emma for any chance? Joe Emma? He'd be more interested in shooting Jean Hart. They split up over Bonnie Goodwin. Emma wouldn't leave her alone till after Hart got out of town. Is that enough reason for him to kill her? I don't know. I don't know how jealous he gets. There's only one other thing I'd like to know. What? How am I going to help you? I want to do something more than to tell you the truth. Hey, how does this sound? You and Bonnie are about the same type. Same build, same hair. Close enough to confuse anybody in a dark alley. Hey, what have you got going? If I could get a new story published on the first page of the evening paper, the effect that the Bonnie and the Morgue, originally identified as Bonnie Goodwin, is not Bonnie Goodwin, that it was identified an error and actually is you, Janie Page. I think we could sweat Bonnie's killer out in the open, trying to finish the job. Hey, what are you trying to do to me? I'll get killed. No, you won't. Because you won't be waiting here for me. I will. Trench account, item seven, five cents, phone call to an old newspaper friend. Trench account, item eight, another nickel, one evening newspaper, which proved to me the power of having old friends and which I hope would prove to me the power of the press. The story, including the girl's address, was right above the weather report. And it looked like a fair night for Chicago, but a stormy night for me. I learned early in my career that when you're waiting in an apartment the arrival of killers don't just wait. I opened a window onto the street, made myself a pot of coffee and sandwiches, sat down in an easy chair, facing a door into the telephone and had a picnic. For dessert, I had a sweet rich idea which made me feel much better. When a little after 10, I heard a car pull up outside. When I heard footsteps coming up the hall 20 seconds later, I picked a telephone out of its cradle. Dialed one to get rid of the telltale tone of a line not in use. Come on in, it's not a lot. King Hart, repeat, King Hart. What are you up to, dollar? I'll tell you what I'm up to. And the other end of this phone line is a police lieutenant listening. He knows that you're here with me, so don't get rough. I don't care who's listening. Where is she? Oh, you know who Bunny. I thought he'd found some orgies in her. I wish I had this much luck to fishing. People seem to bite easier. I suppose you're here because you missed her the first time. Don't be stupid. I'm trying to save her life. Where is she? She's sitting next to the lieutenant who's listening on his telephone. I don't believe it. Come on. You can talk to her. Okay. But you'd better be right. There. Take the phone. Right over the head. Drag Mr. King Hart into the living room closet. Went back to the phone and really told the police to tell them that I had their man. I still had the phone in my hand when the apartment door opened. Framing two masses of manhood. One of whom I knew. So this time, just to play safe, I set into the live phone. Joe Emma. Joe Emma and help her. Captain, he had talking to her with that telephone. Police. I just gave him your name. Hang it up. Okay. I got news for you. What you just did ain't even evidence. But you ain't going to be around for a while. We ain't going to be here when the cops get here. If you're looking for Bonnie Goodwin, your search is narrowed down. You've got the whole rest of the world to look because she ain't here. Hey! Don't worry. Hey, Emma. He's hiding in the closet there. The knob just moved. Huh? That's what you got. Okay, Angie. Stay on it tonight. I'll take care of Bonnie. Sweetheart. I'm coming, Joe! Where are you? Joe Emma had expected the pleasure of kicking a girl around, but instead found himself being felted around by a man. Angie's right hand. Go for his armpit and not to scratch himself. After he snapped another shot at King Hart, I snapped a flying tag on him. Go! Yeah, you're Mr. Ken Angie, and it's all for you. It's a delightful right hand you throw. Never mind that. Where's Bonnie? She's dead, Hart. I planted that newspaper story that she's still alive. I didn't read any newspaper story. I just came from the city more. The tape they got isn't Bonnie Goodwin. I never saw her before. Isn't Bonnie? Well, then why did Emma kill her roommate in the dark alley by mistake? So Bonnie switches identities to make herself officially dead so she can live longer. Where is she? I want her back. I thought all you wanted was to get her name off that insurance policy. That isn't true. I wanted an insurance investment to get her to find her. What else can I tell you so you take the case? I want her back. You'll have to make up her own mind about that. Are you? I'm not playing Cupid. I'll tell you what I'll do. You tell me all the sweet freezing, do you want to say? And I'll repeat you to her. Men's account, item nine. $28.40. Dinner while repeating all the sweet freezing. King Hart had wanted to say to Bonnie Goodwin. And telling her all the unsweet, unpretty things I felt about his kind of guy. Don't worry, Johnny. I'm not going to him or anybody like him. Now where are you going? Back to my hometown. Your hometown doesn't seem to do a very good job of giving you a start the first time. How far from Chicago is it? It's only about 20 miles north of here. Here's an envelope. But what's in it? You'd better buy yourself a 10 that'll take you about $3,000 worth west of here. Johnny, I... thank you. Spence account, item 10. $0.20. Two beers. One for me and one for King Hart. I told him that his money was taking Bonnie on a little trip back to happiness. And he told me that if I ever expected to spend money from him, I knew where I could go. Spence account total, $163.55. You'll notice that this is very low, but remember, I'm paying this one myself. Yours, very truly, Johnny Dollar. Truly Johnny Dollar, directed today by Gordon T. Hughes, stars Charles Russell, with a script by Paul Dudley and Gil Dowd. Featured in the cast were Georgia Ellis, Paul Dubov, Martha Wentworth, Lou Krugman, Gene Bates, and Larry Dubkin. The special music is written and conducted by Leith Stevens. Be sure to be with us at the same time next week when another unusual expense account is handed in by yours truly, Johnny Dollar. I'm in the mood for love. Isn't it a lovely day? That's what you think. Nope, that isn't just a mixed-up sentence. That's just for the top hit. You'll hear on Your Hit Parade on Parade tonight. Top hits from 1935. Without a word of warning, I'm on a seesaw. Yes, more hits dressed up in bright new 1949 arrangements and played in song by the nation's top vocalists and musicians. Be sure to hear Your Hit Parade on Parade this evening in Jack Benny's time on all of these same CBS stations. This is Roy Roy. Your Hit Parade on Parade follows immediately. CBS, The Columbia Broadcasting System.