 From Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadway is my beat, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover. In the time of April, Broadway walks a street dappled with sunlight. The time of the breeze sighing in from the river, touching your cheek and making a smile. It's a time to wake up to and keep on dreaming. The far places and silver bells and the slow curve of ocean. The month of being young again and search again. The thing to do is to give up to it, except about the job. The rent to pay, buy the beer, leave the tip, meet the installment. It's April, but you've got to make a living. Maybe next year, kid. And through the Venetian blinds, the morning sunlight patterned itself on the floor across the return furniture. In the place where I was, four stories up, recreation room, globe secretarial school, where the girl's sprawled body was, and the two bewildered people. You can ask me all the questions you want. All I can tell you is this girl's name, Lois Conrad. Is she a student here at your school, Mrs. Hewitt? Yes. I registered her myself about three months ago. Perhaps I can tell you a little something, Mr. Clover. All right, Mr. Hewitt. Miss Conrad is a student in my typing class. Her first class this morning at 9.30. She didn't show up. Who reported this girl's stab, Mr. Hewitt? Miss Lindsay did. She's my best pupil. That's one of the finest we've ever had here at Globe. Tell me how, Miss Lindsay found her. Well, I suppose she finished the typing test early, came up here to the rec room to relax, then she came running down to the office. She came running to me, Mr. Clover. It was I who called the police. That was a little before 10.30 this morning, wasn't it? About a half hour ago. Yes, that's right. I told you that three times now. I can show you where I've got the time I called, jotted down on my desk calendar. You act as registrar here? Dean, I also teach shorthand and bookkeeping. Just your husband and yourself run the school? Would you like to see our license? Please, Sylvia. Isn't it bad enough what the news of this poor girl's desk going to do to us, but he has to come? Sylvia, he has his job. Yes, Carla. All right, Carla. It just seems to me that this poor girl lying here... One more thing. Anyone could come up to this recreation room, couldn't he? I mean, an outsider, he could just walk in here, isn't that so? Oh, yes. Yes, we always have open house to public. Anyone can walk in here anytime and observe our methods. That poor girl lying there. She should be covered. The woman moves quickly through the sunless hall, darts into a room, comes back, covers with a shawl the intrusion of death. But for an instant, lets her hand tremble on the texture of the girl's face. Youth stilled. Beauty already drained away. Then the trembling moves from her hand, seizes her body, and her husband calls her name. Sylvia, stop it! The command stills the flurry of shock in her. Then follow them to their office, consider the card taken from a wooden file cabinet, note the name of the nearest relative, the dead girl's father, their address, and leave. Leave the place where the newest registration is death. On a side street in the West 30s, be told by the dwellers of the stoop that Mr. Conrad was upstairs, third floor, cleaning, mopping, dusting, making a show of earning his keep. If you got a complaint, mister, it'll fall on cold ears. Walk the stairs of a brown stone whose fire escape doors are open to the gust of spring. Walk them and find the man whose child lies dead. Want to move over a little, mister? I want to vacuum the rug there. We're here in the way. Sure. All right, it's done. Brought up the nap a little too, huh? What's the result of it? I'm from the police, Danny Clover. Wait till I shut off the Hoover, huh? Yeah. Something I can do for you, mister? A room apartment? No. You from the management? You come to check up on me? Look, mister, how much can you squeeze out of a super? I do the best. I know how. I guess you didn't hear me. I said I was from the police. It's about your daughter. Lois? But, Roddy, you got to come snooping around here about Lois. She's a good girl. My Lois is the best. I'll smash anybody who... What about Lois? No one called you. No one told you. Tell me what? Tell me what about my kid? Tell me! She's dead. She was found murdered this morning at her school. I got the whole hallway still to do, mister, then upstairs. You want mine, huh? Tell me something about her, mister Conrad. Something that'll give us a lead. She was home late last night, went to her room. I almost got out of bed to go say good night to her, but I was tired and worn out with... Just worn out. She was out late, alone? Alone, Lois? Fly alone when she could have anyone she wanted. She was out with Frankie. Frankie Wilson, her steady, works at the boat stand in Central Park. I bet that's where they were, sitting by the lake or boating. It was a real nice night last night for things like that. To see her this morning, talk to her. You know, this job, I get up real early, set the alarm for Lois, so she won't be late for school. It's never going to be late anymore, is it? I'm sorry, mister Conrad. And leave, and the ride not a Central Park. And the roadside rich with blossoms of spring. Babies and perambulators, delicate grass and buds. The chattering of birds and nursemaids. The benches are warmed by the afternoon sun. A girl and a boy sit together in a place speckled by branch shadows. Park near the boating lake and walk a little way you have to go. The boat shed gleams with new paint. The smell of it mixes well with the scent of growing things. Your name, Frankie Wilson? Yeah, Frankie. My name's Danny Clover, police. You know a girl named... Lois. Lois Conrad, sure. Only no more, she's dead. Oh, come on. Because I know something a few million people in New York also know. I don't mean I killed her. I send the kid out for chocolate and a newspaper for my lunch. That's how I know. Her father told me he used to see quite a lot of Lois. Yeah, that's right. You want me to tell you about her? Uh-huh. She was a cinch to wind up dead. You want me to tell you why? She picked a man like she picked me. Lean her face up close and smile. Woman's smile. You know, a few minutes later the smile turns into a laugh. Ha-ha type laugh, right in your face. The last time I saw her, Frankie. Last night, I rode her around the lake. Very romantic, it says. Drifty and dreamy. Then we got out on the boat and sat down on a bench. That one. We sat down and she smiled that way. Real close. Then she looked at her watch and she says, Golly day, Frankie. What do you know? It's midnight already. I got to go. You take her home? Nope. Last night was not my privilege. My wife patted my cheek. Told me I was a nice boy and left. She says she was going home. Didn't say. Only the sudden hurry she was in, I doubt it. Her father don't keep tabs on her. Well, unless you're going to arrest me, I'll be right here. It's Gino, Danny. May I come in? Yes, come in, Gino. Kill me, Danny. Ridicule me. What? This morning Mrs. Tartaglia kissed me goodbye in a frolicky way, pierced my lapel with a blushing blossom. I'm happy for you, Gino. Which is why I wish to rid myself of the chores of the day as quickly as possible so I can get home maybe a little earlier and take Mrs. Tartaglia for our annual evening spring walk along the river, leaving the children to their devices at home. I'm with you in everything you say, Gino. I'm glad you see my side of it, Danny. Therefore, to the affairs of the day, post haste. Detective Muggerbin interrogated that Miss Lindsay, who found the murdered girl Lois Conrad at great length in the interrogation room. Did she come up with anything new? Nothing. Only that she corrected Detective Muggerbin's proper usage of the English language. The good detective rebuttal to this I would have liked to have seen. Other students and faculty also interrogated. Nothing new also. Anything else? Anything else is this transcript of the shorthand notes found in the notebook of the school locker of the deceased Lois Conrad, which I have edited and transcribed in the longhand herewith. Very shorthand exercises. F and Eateness. But among them this pithy quotation, quote, he can't keep from looking at me. He's dying to be with me. Ha-ha. Anytime I want. Close quote. Let's see that. Here, Danny. You know, never in my personal years in business college, Danny, that I have such shorthand exercises to pot... Danny Clover speaking. This is Mrs. Hewitt of the Globe Secretarial School. Will you come here please? My office right away. I have something to tell you. Can't you tell me over the phone, Mrs. Hewitt? I could, but it doesn't seem quite the proper way to name Lois' murderer. I can expect you right away, Mr. Clover. That's exactly why I asked you to come down here to my office, Mr. Clover, while I'm alone, while my husband's teaching. I want a name for you, Lois Conrad's murderer. Just one thing before you tell me, Mrs. Hewitt, are you just accusing somebody or do you know for sure? I know for sure. All right, who killed Lois Conrad? I did. What? You'd better arrest me. I killed Lois Conrad. I stabbed her to death. Every weekday, Arthur Godfrey and his gang make merry. Then on Sundays over most of these same stations, CBS Radio brings you a half-hour digest of the whole week's top fun-making. Be sure you're listening when King Arthur Godfrey's round table holds court on CBS Radio tomorrow. When the sun comes to Broadway, the street is wide enough for everybody, blondes and convertibles, pecanies and taxis, and sailors against lamp posts. It's the place to come to for one reason or another. It'd be a tourist to make a pitch, buy a bargain, get cheated, insulted, or have your picture taken. One night time comes, walk beneath a special moon that hangs high over Broadway, run with it, get lost in the shadows of a cloud that scuds across its face, and the night ends with a memory, depending upon what you've paid for it, what you wanted, and what you got. It's a room of a million memories where I was. Police interrogation room where Detective Muggevin was and a woman who had confessed to a murder. You've been very kind, both of you. Thank you. Tell us about Lois Conner. I didn't like her. I stabbed her. Lots of people don't like people, Mrs. Hewitt, but they don't go around stabbing. You must add some particular reason. I didn't like her. You hated her? If you want a quibble. Could I have a drink, please? No, no, I don't want water. I want a drink. Sorry, Mrs. Hewitt. Mrs. Hewitt, do you drink a lot? What do you mean? Well, you're drunkard. That's what Mr. Clover means. Whatever gave you an idea like that? Because I want a drink? Because I'm nervous? I apologize, Mrs. Hewitt. I'm not a drunkard. We've only gotten one fact out of you, Mrs. Hewitt. You killed Lois Conner because you didn't like her. She was a pretty girl. A lot of pretty girls at your school. I talked to quite a few of them. I asked them about you, too. They liked me, didn't they? Some did. Some didn't. Some had no opinion. A lot of them said you were a jealous woman. Yes, that's right. I am. Jealous of Lois Conneran? Yes. That's why you killed her? Yes. I walked past the recreation room. There she was lying down. I went in and stabbed her. Where'd you get the knife? Why, it was right there on the table. That's equipment in your recreation room? I bought it a few days ago at one of the dime stores. I must have left it on the table. Which dime store? I don't remember. You just picked it up and stabbed her, is that right? Yes, yes. Then what did you do? I went back down to my office and waited for someone to discover the body. I see. See you in a minute out here, Danny. Sure. What's up, Jim? A few things, Danny. Number one, no prints raised on that pen knife. And number two, the elevator boy at the Hewitt apartment discloses that on the night preceding the murder, Mr. Hewitt, at one o'clock in the morning, did walk his dog or cute cocka for an hour, which the elevator boy remarked was a strange custom since the cocka was usually walked between the hours of six and seven. And that is my report for now. Thanks, Jim. Lock her up, Margaret, and I'll call her husband. She can see him tomorrow. This way, Mrs. Hewitt. The residents of Mr. Carl Hewitt? Yes. This is Danny Clover, Mr. Hewitt. Your wife has just confessed to the murder of Lois Conrad. Your wife just confessed to the murder of Lois. Tomorrow, I'll call you. Then walk over, turn out the ceiling light and for a while stand in darkness because you're tired. Because the day had begun in violence had drifted you across a city on death's wind. Had ended here in this room where the 150-watt bulb had been bright on a woman's hatred, a woman's confession of murder. And leave it, leave the darkness. In the morning, go back to a tenement in the West 30s. Find the man you wanted in a basement room whose shades are drawn against the street edge of a sunlit day. Why do you come back, Mr. Clover? What have we got to talk about us to? Your daughter, Mr. Conrad. What time did you say Lois got home the night before? What have we got to talk about you and me? You said you heard her come in. You wanted to say goodnight to her, but you were too tired. What time was then? Doesn't matter what time she got home late, early with the milkman with the kids playing stickball in the street in the evening at your business. Her boyfriend, Frankie, told me you never made it yours. Frankie said that? He told me another thing. He said he didn't think Lois was going home once she left him that night. He's a liar. Good ol' Frankie is a liar, a yard wide and all stringy. Maybe he wasn't lying, maybe Lois didn't get home. You're in no way here, Mr. Honest. I'd like to get some shut-eye if you don't mind. I've been trying to sleep and I... He wasn't lying. That's right, Frankie. Tell me about it. You've got to understand something. You come here and hit me with my kid is dead. I don't feel the need to tell you Lois don't come home nights. You fellas get impressions when you hear things like that. I didn't want you to have that for Lois. A good kid, my girl. Did she do that often, Mr. Conrad? There were other times she stayed out all night. Yeah, you go giving in to the impression. She just answered me. Yeah, she did it often because I let her because she stayed with her girlfriend. I know because I called once late at night and Peg said my kid was sound asleep on the couch in the living room. I checked, I tell you. Peg? Peg Lindsey goes to school with Lois. Real nice girl, decent, stays in her own house nights. Peg Lindsey was the girl who found your daughter. Did she? Oh, what do you know about her? So leave and out to the squad car. Crawl headquarters on the intercom and leave word that Detective Markerman is to meet you at noon in front of the Globe Secretarial School. Then walk now to a corner fruit juice stand, refreshment and a glance at the morning paper. News from spring training camps and spring maneuvers, conference tables and tennis courts and horses, dark and those left at the post. Back to the squad car and to West 49th Street and Detective Markovan is waiting. Miss Lindsey, sure I can find her out. I talked to her before. Wait a few minutes until the young ladies enrolled at the school run down the steps and down the street for their lunch. Is that one, Danny? Glasses and a poodle haircut. Thanks, wait here, my man. Miss Lindsey? My name's Danny Colburn from the police. May I buy your lunch? Of course you may not. What do you want? Maybe to arrest you, Miss Lindsey, I've made up my mind. Please. Please what? So many of my classmates, they're looking. They know I never talked to men, strangers. What do you want? You can't arrest me. You know you can't. I can because I've got an idea you've got more to say than you said to Detective Markovan. Miss Lindsey, you fall under the heading of coincidence. Hurry up, please. What do you want? You were the girl who found Lois Conrad's dad. You're also the girl Lois used to spend a lot of time with. Her father told me Lois used to spend nights at your house. She did not. Sometimes she'd come over and I'd do her homework for her. And I used to ask her to stay because she looked so tired. She never would. She told her father she stayed at your house. Now you tell me she didn't. So you lied to her father. Where did she stay? She was crazy. There's a hotel down the street from my house. She used to leave me. She left me alone and stayed there. Now, please go. Everybody's staring. Nightclakes got to sleep, Mr. Clover. I don't care if your police are not... Now look, Mr. Drake, you had no right downstairs to death to send you up here and wake me up. That's trouble the whole staff here at the region. They've got no consideration. Down home... It's only going to take a minute, Mr. Drake. Just a couple of questions. I'm going to fall right over where I stand. I'm so sleepy. Girl named Lois Conrad registered here the night before last, didn't she? Lois Conrad. Yeah, sure. There's been a lot of times. Tall girl, blonde, cared books, no bag, room 212. I'm going to fall right over. What time did she register? I think it was little 4-1. She's a strange one. Tall? Very strange. Very... Like how, Mr. Drake? Well, she registered and she placed a call from the desk phone. The number she was calling didn't answer for a long time, but she told me to keep trying, which I did. And you were successful, Mr. Drake? Yes, I was. The number answered. I heard Mr. Conrad tell her part of where she was, then she hung up. Then she left the call for 8.30 next morning, so that nobody was to be permitted to disturb her till then. Did anyone disturb her? About half past one, a man came in with a little cock-a-doll. My, he was cute. He asked for Mr. Conrad, but as per her instructions, I sent him away. And now, sir, will you please say pleasant dreams to me and let me go back to sleep? Mrs. Hewitt in there in the visitors' room, do you know? Yeah, Danny, she is. She called her husband and told him to get down here. Well, he should be here any minute now. When he comes to the guard to let him in. Okay. Hello, Mrs. Hewitt. How do you feel? I was expecting Carl. I want to talk to my husband. He'll be here. Did you tell him I'd confess to killing Lois? Yes, I did. What did he say? He sounded shocked. Yes. Yes, he would. Mrs. Hewitt, I've been checking on the background of Lois Conrad. I can understand your dislike of her. You don't blame me for killing her, do you? No, I can't say that. I've found what kind of girl she was and I can understand why another woman would dislike her. That's right. The world's better off without her. She was... Carl. Carl, you came to me. You know what happened, Sylvia, when I got the call when the police phone said you'd killed that girl. I stood there. I was shocked, dazed. And then, well, it wasn't until this morning that I was lying down the floor. That's right, Mrs. Hewitt. Your husband didn't cry out or scream. He was very brave about it. Can't we be alone, Mr. Clover? Right now. These aren't regular visiting hours. There's no regular garden. Carl, Carl... It'll be all right, Sylvia. I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to do everything I can to make it easier for you. You... You don't understand, Carla. I confessed that I killed that girl. I confessed. I know that the police told me I'll do everything I can. What? What are you going to do? I'll get a lawyer and do all the things husband is supposed to do. You... You don't understand it all, do you? I confess. I know, dear. I... She hasn't signed a confession yet, Mr. Hewitt, but that's just a formality. In a case like this, your wife will throw herself on the mercy of the court. What the sentence will be is of the discretion of the court. And I can be sentenced for 10 years or 20. Or the rest of my life. Or the electric chair. Poor Sylvia. Poor, poor Sylvia. Oh, Carl! Mr. Covey, I... I don't feel it's good to be here with her. I guess I'd better go now. You'd... You'd let it happen to me, Carl. You'd let me go to the electric chair. If you kill... Your wife didn't kill that girl, Mr. Hewitt. Did you hear what he said, Carl? Did you hear him? What are you doing to me? What are you two doing? I confess because I loved you, Carl. Because I wanted to show you I loved you. Show you what a wife is to a man. Not some skinny girl in your class. A wife, Carl. Someone who loves. You know what love is. What I did for you. You know what your wife is saying, Mr. Hewitt? Yes, I do. She's ascending her confession. You don't love me. You haven't loved me for 20 years. 20 years I had to fight for you against those young snips in your class. I confessed to a murder I didn't do. It's crazy, Mr. Hewitt. Uh-uh, she's not, Mr. Hewitt. I doubted all along she committed that murder. Her prints weren't on that knife. Her answers were vague. Like I said, I had doubts, so I spent the day getting proof. Proof of what? What she said? That's right, what she said. You killed Lois Conrad. She called you from a hotel. You left your house with a dog that later you showed up at the hotel. Lois wouldn't see you. How long had that been going on, Mr. Hewitt? You don't know what that girl was. But you knew. You found out. And still you kept trying. And still she kept laughing at you. What did you want me to do? Did you want me to confess that I killed her? Yes, yes! But it's too late now. This policeman knows you're a murderer. Don't you see, Carl? Don't you see what I wanted? Your love. Your protest against my going to prison for something you've done. You should have come running and said, No, no! My wife didn't kill. I did! Just that, Carl. Now you're rot in jail. No one will grieve. Not me. It's the gathering place of all the sleepless nights this Broadway and all the unwept tears. The place to come to erase what's happened start all over, make a memory. The street is littered with thoughts and ends. Set them together in any design you want. Only nothing slips into place. It's Broadway. The gaudiest. The most violent. The lonesomeest mile in the world. Broadway. My Beat. This year, CBS Radio's intensive convention and election coverage aimed at bringing you all the facts for your all important decision at the ballot box can follow you from place to place as you choose to listen. Keep tuned to CBS Radio for the most thorough pre-election coverage in history and make sure you're home safe and sound. Don't forget to subscribe to the channel and turn on the notification bell so you don't miss out on new videos. Pre-election coverage in history and make sure your home radio, car radio, portable sets are all working so you miss none of our important election features. Bill Anders speaking. And remember, Robert Trout reports the news of the world every Sunday on the CBS Radio Network.