 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, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. On the days before Christmas, Broadway dances along to carols that flow from sequined loudspeakers. The kids mash their noses against the plate glass, lick it and watch. And it's all there, the mechanical clown, the tin man dancing a jig on a tin box, the toy army precisely to scale with the latest equipment mechanized. And eyes are bright with desire and hope. It's the one time in the year when odds are better that dreams will come true. So make a wish on a neon star. And in the short time before Christmas, creatures were stirring at police headquarters. There's the patter of tired feet and the sound of manly giggles as little gifts are hidden in desk drawers or poured into Dixie cups or slipped under the police blocker. And in my office, my strong right arm Sergeant Geno Tartaglia. Ask it pretty late, Geno. A couple more hours you can go home and finish decorating your Christmas tree. Indeed, indeed. Getting a lot of nice things this year, Geno? Oh, many's are things, Danny. I guess my old cockles should be warmed. Yeah, but they're not. Oh, something wrong, Geno? What I want most for Christmas, Danny, I'm not going to get. I'm going to get nicks and knacks and an electric shaver and handkerchiefs and socks and ties and a curved cavity pipe to smoke my troubles away. Sounds like a pretty full Christmas to me, Geno. Ah, humbug. Danny, what I want most is to go out and solve a crime. To meet face-to-face the sultry sirens, the hardened criminals, and to solve them the way you do. To go out on a case with you, my fondest wish for Christmas. Oh, police headquarters that fall apart without you, Geno. You just stick around here and do your job. Yeah, indeed, indeed. Ah, just thought I'd let you know that's all. Ah, well... I'm going downstairs for some coffee. I'll be back, sir. Roger. Ah, face it, Geno. Oh, you're stuck at a desk. Sergeant Geno Tataglia speaking. Yes. Yes. Yeah, right away. Hey, Danny. Yeah, what's the matter, Geno? I haven't gotten my coffee yet. Coffee? At a time like this? Buddy Malpod and there do well millionaire. What? What about him? What about him? He has been slugged. Let's go, Geno. Did you say, let's... Of course, on a case like this, I'll need you, Geno. Come on. This is his house, Danny. Let's go. Yeah. Stand aside, Danny. No. We can go in now, Danny. Geno. Yeah? We could have run the bell. Who's got time? You're coming? For here, Geno. Back of the sofa. Take a note, Danny. Yes, Sergeant. Buddy Malpod, the unconscious, there do well millionaire. Battled and gorged on the super-acidipal region of the cranium. Back of the skull, Danny. Slugged on the super-acidipal, a virus assailant unknown. From the size of the lump on Buddy Malpod's head to four refined head, conclude that said lump was administered by a blunt weapon three millimeters by five of the irregular contour and lead pipe consistency. You got that, Danny? Yes, Sergeant. Hold it. I got a P.S. To wit, luxurious apartment of said near do well millionaire, one Buddy Malpod, ransacked and left in disarray. P.P.S., the butler of said household will have his work cut out for him. Shall I phone it in now, Sergeant? Don't move. The drapes just moved. All right. You, behind those drapes. Out. With your hands crass behind your neck. Out. Good evening, gentlemen. Good evening, Danny. It can't be. It can't be what, Geno? This man, this hider behind drapes. It can't be. Are you? It is he. Danny, may I present Mike Shreck, the bald-headed miracle detector from Philadelphia. Merry Christmas, gentlemen. Merry Christmas to you, Mike Shreck. I assume you gentlemen are of the police of the city? I present to you, sir, Lieutenant Danny Clover and myself, Sergeant Geno Tataglia. Tataglia, eh? That name has a familiar ring. Perhaps because I was an innocent abroad on the guided in the footsteps of Mike Shreck tour in Philadelphia last summer. I blew myself to it with my vacation money. It's not for that, I remember you, sir. It's for the word that has come to me that you are indeed the brains behind the brains of the New York police force. Oh, come now, Mr. Shreck. You mustn't believe all of me. Oh, I could have used you, sir, on my famed widow Chalcedony's case. When having trailed the Desperado across the 1.83 miles of the Philadelphia Camden Bridge, I was caught in the seductive toils. The machine gun brain of the man, Danny. The memory for details. To have made a part of him the size of the Philadelphia Camden Bridge. Gentlemen, enough of nostalgia to work. It was I who phoned this into you. Being now on the trail of Lance Lash, master criminal of them all, I was led to this place only to find Buddy Malpaw, the ne'er-do-well millionaire. Oh, but Hush, the man is coming around. What happened, man? Tell us what happened. You are... Gently, sir. You are among friends. We're from the police, Mr. Malpaw. Try to tell us what happened. Well, try, fellows. I had a rain such a pleasant evening. A date with Rima-9. Oh, not the Rima-9 from Bolivia, but the Miss Rima-9 who was staying at the Stacey Arms. Go on, Mr. Malpaw. Rima was to meet me here at 9.30. However, at precisely at 9, the doorbell rang. I went to open it. There was no one there. No one? No one. A prank, I thought. I started back into the department. Suddenly, the pain, the awful pain screaming through my skull was no prank, I assure you. No, it... Where is it? Where is it? Where is what, Mr. Malpaw? It's gone. It was here in this case. It's gone. What's gone, Mr. Malpaw? I prized it more than the jewel scimitar of Genghis Khan. The jewel scimitar of Genghis Khan? The jewel... What's going on here, Sergeant? Read your notes, man. Read your notes. And watch the Sergeant as he considers the attitude of the distressed man, the desolation of him, the Sergeant's compassion, understanding, the most precious thing of Malpaw's life. The jewel scimitar of Genghis Khan was gone now, vanished, lost, strayed, stolen, parlorined. The Sergeant's gentleness, the knowledge of it caught up with Malpaw, took hold, displaced everything until it was only emptiness, void, vacuum, space, nothing. And finally the ne'er-do-well millionaire's rejection of it. And turn now, Sergeant Otaglia nods sagely, open the door for him, and leave. Going out of the stacy arms in the clerk of the desk lifts a corner of his lip and an eyebrow when the Sergeant mentions the name of a woman he wants to see. The long ride up on the elevator walked down the carpeted corridor, the sprig of Christmas holly of the brass door knocker. This time we'll knock, Danny. Hi, fellas. Please come in. You'll forgive the way I look. We're from police, Miss Nynne. Yeah, we got some questions to ask you. A piece of fine wear I picked up at Cote d'Azur. I always wear it at this hour. It's a wishing hour. You may call me Rima. I'm Gino. He's Danny. It's about Buddy Malpaw, Miss Nynne. Yeah. He was beaten and robbed this evening. You may sit here beside me if you wish. None of this sultry siren stuff, Miss Nynne. Didn't you have a date with Mr. Malpaw this evening? Yes, I did at 9.30. That checks, Sergeant. What time did you get to the Malpaw mansion? At 9.30. I rang the bell and rang it. No one answered. I was so disappointed with an educational evening like that inside. Educational? Buddy was going to show me the jeweled scimitar of Genghis Khan. The real one, not the replica. Oh, there's a replica? At the museum of Far Eastern lore, I often go there in my idle moments and browse around the Far Eastern things. You're a strange one, Rima. Yes. Please go on. That's how I met Buddy at the museum. Fate plays strange tricks, doesn't it, Gino? Yeah. Now, if you'll pardon me, fellas, I must change. Well, go right ahead. We'll just make ourselves comfortable. Let's go, Gino. We are sorry, Mr. Zoe, that we have made you open your museum to us at such a late hour. It is always a pleasure, Sergeant, to indulge the whims of the cultured, though they be policemen. Thank you, Mr. Zoe. They're not at all. And here, gentlemen, looming above you is the statue of a fabulous terrorizer, Genghis Khan. Cloth in the cap of Tibetan fair, the jeweled garland of brocade of picking silk, all of it donated to us most generously by Buddy Malpar to complete our Far Eastern collection. And the sword in his hands. A replica, only I hear, replica of the jeweled scimitar of Genghis Khan. And Mr. Malpar's generosity dissolved when it reached him. Tell us about the scimitar, Mr. Zoe. We're the deepest of pleasure. Genghis tore it from the wounded hands of Jella Ledin, his arching with her enemy, Danny. Then, for centuries, it was lost. Three centuries, Danny, vanished to reappear again in the Renaissance as an ornament worn about the slim waist of the little creature Borgia. Danny, if this scimitar were real, Mr. Zoe, how much would it be worth? Conservatively. Conservatively? Half a million dollars. Give a little, take a little. Half a million, huh? That's all we need to know. Let's go, Danny. Yeah. And to you, Mr. Zoe, many thanks, and merry, merry Christmas. And to you, sir. The same. Half a million bucks, Danny. No wonder Mr. Malpar and their do well millionaires. Do you know? Hit the ground! Hit the ground! Danny! Danny! Oh, oh! Jean, old, you're, you're... Yeah, help me, Danny. I've been, I've been shocked. You are listening to Broadway's My Beach, written by Morton Fine and David Friedkin, and starring Lurie Thor as Detective Danny Clover. It's so delightful it's become a Christmas tradition with Amos and Andy. Tomorrow night, again, Amos will be heard explaining the meaning of the Christmas spirit to his little daughter, Arbadella. It wouldn't be Yuletide without this special bid Amos and Andy contribute to the season's atmosphere, so be sure to hear it again over most of these same CBS radio stations tomorrow night on Amos and Andy. As the winds move to the place of the years dying, the Mazda's and Broadway's translux arrange themselves in merry thoughts. Suitable for Christmas past, Christmas present, Christmas future, Broadway walks by, glances up, smiles, hurries to buy the last minute gift for the last minute friend. Crosby sings the tune that's in your heart. The corner Santa Claus winks and the golden girl stops you, asks which way to Gimbal's, invites you to come along and show her. The budget term dreams are coming true, kid, so go live a little. Danny, Danny, I've been shocked. Oh, no. I must have been dreaming. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was shocked. There you are, Sergeant, as good as new. My thanks, Dr. Sinski. May I say something, Gino? Indeed you may. I've been privileged to attend many courageous men, but you, Gino, no other way I can say it. I stand in humility before you. Ah, Dr. Sinski, you shouldn't say those things. He's right, Gino. I'm only saying what all of us feel. We've already initiated proceedings for an award for bravery beyond the call of duty. Danny, Dr. Sinski, dear true friends, I know that what the... May I? Go right ahead, son. Thank you. Sergeant Gino Cattaglia speaking. Yes, yes. Yes, that was my shriek. Evil has come to him. Get me a squad car. But Gino, you... A head, Danny, a squad car. I got more. The door's locked, Gino. One side. Half to you, Danny. Mr. Shrek, what happened to you? Lancelash. The master criminal of the mall? I give the devil his due. You haven't told us what happened, Mr. Shrek. Gentlemen, please, you help me up. Of course. Now, be gentle with him, Danny. Over here on the bed. Now, tell us about it. Friends, I feel I have failed you. Oh, don't talk like that. After all, how many people have come face to face with Lancelash and lived to tell about it? Give the devil his due. Yes. Now, would you mind telling us what happened? I came here to my rooms. Sparsely furnished, you'll admit, but the way I like it, nowhere below is to distract my attention. I needed to think. I knew I was once again a half in the trail of Lancelash. I came from the ends of the earth. Listen to the man, Danny. We had met. Lancelash and I. The last time on the lonely Isle Maricius, when we battled hand-to-hand on top of old Farfang and the volcano. Yeah, I know, but what happened tonight? Has this my one before I retired? I looked under my bed, gentlemen, and there he was, Lancelash. So you got under two and started a fight with him, huh? Yes, yes, it was nip and tuck under there, but if the devil his due... Why did he come here, Mr. Shrek? I thought I had the dual scimitar of Genghis Khan. Unless you know, gentlemen, I have not. Has he... Would you mind, Sergeant? Oh, of course. Yes. Yes. Yes. How do you like that, Danny? Like what? Riemann Nine. The Sultry Siren? Yeah, she was picked up on a disorderly conduct charge. And you know what she had with her? If I were you, I'd try a poultice, Mr. Shrek. Open it, Danny. Well, Riemann, what have you to say for yourself? This, you... Take it easy, Riemann. Just relax. Kicking will get you nowhere. A wild campaign. Yeah, all of you. That's for you. Easy, girl. Easy. That's it. That's a good girl. That's a baby. You have strong arms, Sergeant. Don't take them away. The boys say they picked you up screaming on a street corner. Why were you doing that, Miss Nine? They tell you about me banging in their empty heads together till they rang out the season's greetings. They mentioned it. Now you tell us why you did all that and right before Christmas. You know why. That piece of mail order carving knife masquerading is the jeweled scimitar of Genghis Khan. Not the genuine article, huh? Not the genuine article, huh? He says... It was a fake! Don't scream, Angel. You were all nearby. Okay, so it was a fake, Miss Nine. Where'd you get it? What's that got to do? Only this. You rang Buddy Malpo's bell at nine last night. You slugged him, stole the scimitar. Now you're hurt because it's a fake. Charges pile up, huh, Sergeant? A sore theft? Indeed they do, Riemann. Book me for anything you want, lover. To bring in that woman-beating cab driver. Huh? The cab driver. I get in this cab. Tell him to give me the airport. Now, hurry. Why should I stay in this lonesome town when what I had in my hands was worth half a million? What I had in my hands... Go on. So Cabby tilts his cap to me. I see the union label. I figure he's friendly, trustworthy, loyal. I make chit-chat with him when... Wham! Bang! He turns onto a side street. He grabs me by the throat, wrestles me for the scimitar. He looks at it and breaks it over my head. And you'd know who he was. Who he really was. Not... not... None other. Lance Lash, the master criminal of them all. Lover, imagine poor little me in the clutches of Lance Lash. Oh, there, there. Don't think about it. You can let her go now, Gino. Read your notes, man. Just read your notes. And leave there. Go away. Find a place at police headquarters and close the door to the outside. Think about it, you and Sergeant Tataglia. Put it down and add it up. It doesn't come out. So Sergeant Tataglia puts it down and adds it up. And it comes out. Go to a place now, back to the museum, and tell it all to a man you talked to before. I can't believe it. I just cannot believe it. You better believe it, Mr. Sawick, because that's the only way it makes sense. That's right. If the scimitar stolen from Buddy Malpar was a phony, then the one the statue of Genghis Khan was holding is the real one. The ingeniousness of the man Malpar. What better way to keep his treasure safe than to put it before the eyes of the world? We want to see again, Mr. Sawick. Of course, of course you do. This way, this way. Ah, this is very gratifying to me, you know, this publicity. From all walks of life, now drop in to catch a peek of the statue of Genghis Khan holding the scimitar. And just ten minutes ago, I had to warn a cab driver to keep hands on. A cab driver? Yes. Interesting fellow, too. Interesting face. We better hurry, Danny. Yeah. Yes, yes, yes. Yeah, yeah. Now, look, look. I don't understand. Genghis Khan. He's dressed like a cab driver. He's holding a city guidebook in his hand. The scimitar is gone. It's impossible. Maybe, but it's happened. The cab driver chains closed. Maybe we can catch him, Danny. Yeah. And maybe that man's sitting on the step sign. Let's ask him. Hey. Hey, mister. Hello. Did you see your man come out of here a few minutes ago? I guess I did. I've been sitting here for the last hour. Did you notice anything strange about any of them, the way one of them was dressed? Let me see now. This man had on a fur cap and a brocade robe. He was carrying a scimitar. Oh, sure, I saw him. I didn't pay him no mind, though. I just figured he was from California. Let's go, Gino. Danny. Danny, I think I got it. Got what? Get in the car and I'll tell you all about it. Oh, where are we going? To see Mike Shrek, the bold-headed miracle detector from Philadelphia. I think we're at trail's end. It's Lieutenant Clover, Mr. Shrek, and Sergeant Otaglia. I'll be with you in a minute. We're still waiting, Mr. Shrek. Come in. Come in. I was just tidying up. Going someplace, Mr. Shrek? Back to Philadelphia. I'm afraid... Afraid Lancelash has outwitted me again. Oh, has he now? Yes, but I'll get him. After the holidays. Sit down, Mr. Shrek. Tell us how you're going to get Lancelash. Well, I'm going to the Congo after the holidays. Oh. I mean, why are you going to do that, Mr. Shrek? Rumor has already drifted up from the belt of the sudden appearance of the long-nost emerald eye of the goddess Osiris. If I know Lancelash, that's where he'll be after the holidays. He will, Willie. Let me ask you a question, Mr. Shrek. That's your surface. How long did you say the Philadelphia Camden Bridge was? 1.83 miles. See? Why did I tell you, Danny? Go ahead, Gene. I'll correct him. The length of the Philadelphia Camden Bridge is 1.81 miles. Did you hear me, Mr. Shrek? I heard you. Mike Shrek would never make an error like that. Oh. Lancelash, the master criminal of them all, I presume. At your service, gentlemen. Look in the closet, Danny. Right. It's here, all right. The costume of Genghis Khan. And, of course, you left the disguise of the cab driver at the museum. My compliments to you, sir. You came to the house of Buddy Malapar after the Simitaw was stolen. You traced it to Rima-9. The disguise is a cab driver. You found her with it making her flight. You discovered it was a fake. That is correct. Of course you know what happened then. I deduced the same thing you did. That the genuine Simitaw was at the museum. Where is it now, Mr. Lash? Where is it? It is here. Watch out, Geno. You'll cut you to pieces. I'll take them, Danny. Lance. Don't. Don't. Say, Uncle. Uncle. Uncle. Look, Danny, see? I removed this bald-headed toupee. And what do we have? A full head of hair. What a phony UR, Lance Lash. Geno. Geno. Come on, Geno, wake up. Come on, come on. Huh? You fell asleep, Geno. Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I must have dosed. No calls, huh? Yeah, from... No. No calls. What's the matter with you, Geno? Danny. Yeah? I had a dream, Danny. I was a big hero. I went out on a case with you. A dream, huh? I want to tell you something, Geno. Why? When something happens to you, something real, then it's over. You know what you have left? Memory. Yeah, Danny. That's right. When a dream's over, you can remember it. You have the same thing. A memory. That's all anything is, Geno. A memory. Then I got my Christmas wish, huh, Danny? Sure you did. Go on, hold on. Sure. Merry Christmas, Danny. Merry Christmas, Geno. Bells ring out on Broadway, and the horns blow, and there's laughter. The translux spells out peace on earth, goodwill to men. You read it, and believe it, because it's Christmas time, the time we're believing in miracles. The crowd pushes you along, and you're part of it. It makes you happy. 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 Calvin as Tartaglia, and Jack Krushan as Muggevin. The program was produced and directed by Elliot Lewis, with musical score composed and conducted by Alexander Courage. In tonight's story, Lamont Johnson was heard as Mike Shreck, Georgia Ellis as Rima Nine, Howard McNear as Mr. Zorick, and George Neese as Buddy Malpaw. Ships loaded with vital cargoes for our men at the fighting front are swinging at anchor for lack of radio officers. Men with six months merchant ship radio operating experience since 1935, or any kind of FCC license, can get an emergency license to ship at once. Write, phone, wire, or go now to American Radio Association 5 Beekman Street, New York City. Bill Anders speaking. And remember the comedy treat that can't be beat is Jack Benetime Sunday Nights on the CBS Radio Network.