 Mr. District Attorney, starring David Bryant, Mr. District Attorney, champion of the people, defender of truth, guardian of our fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And it shall be my duty as District Attorney, not only to prosecute to the limit of the law all persons accused of crime perpetrated within this county, but to defend with equal vigor the rights and privileges of all its citizens. This is David Bryant. In a moment we'll bring you another case from the files of Mr. District Attorney. To purse the word from our sponsor, David Bryant as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. To the untrained observer, a crime and an accident may sometimes be indistinguishable, one from the other. But a District Attorney must weigh each possibility in the scales of science and circumstances before drawing his conclusions. You take this case. It started on a farm near County Line at 2 a.m. As a man awakened by a wave of nausea, staggers weakly from his bed. May, where are you? What's the matter? Why are you on a bed? Oh, I feel so sick. You're kind of funny myself. I was just filling a hot water bottle for my stomach. What can be the matter with me? Honey, why does this sheet... You better get back and lie down. Stay at my feet without holding on to something. You're all perspired. What a block and a beam. Must have come down with the flu or something. Their kid brother acted kind of funny before he went to bed. I heard him get up about 11 o'clock, complaining about a stomach ache. Yeah, we better call the doctor. Here he is here. Go throw an extra blanket over him. Harley, he's 20 years old. You can get a blanket if he needs it. Come on. We better get back to bed ourselves. Let me take you a minute to fix it, Bob. All right, you come on now. We'll call the doctor in the morning. Ah, he never felt so sick. He's very safe. He feels so funny. Bob, he's so cold. He doesn't even breathe. No, no, no. Don't get yourself excited. I'll wake him up. Walter, wake up. I'm going to call the doctor right away. No, but it's a hell of a problem. From each bottle for analysis. Anything? No. That'll be poison though. Three bodies? No sign of violence. No weapons. Longer the medical examiner, figure they'd been dead. Also, some time night before last. Long time. Did the lab men check the garbage cans and the refuse containers? Yeah. No empty bottles of any kind. Just a few cans, a jar, vegetable peelings, you know, things like that. Well, something killed him. I'm going to have another look around downstairs. He's taking it to town. You know, about three hours. The autopsy report should be ready pretty soon, then. Unless the doc runs into trouble. Yeah, well, I figured he wanted it as soon as possible, so I asked him to send it out with this bill. It was as soon as possible. Good. I think that the car outside now might be hurt. Oh, that's a man's knock. Come in. Which one of you is Gary? I am. Who are you? My name is Sid Mac. I own half this farm. I was Farragas' partner. I just want to find out one thing. I want to know who did this. If we knew that, we wouldn't be here trying to find out, Mr. Mac. I just want to make sure that whoever did it doesn't get away with it. You can post a $5,000 reward for the killer in my name. Make it ten. Make it anything I got, but get him. We don't need rewards for that, Mr. What we need is information. You said you own half this farm, Mr. Mac? Yes. And you haven't been here since the night before last? I don't live on the place. It was just an investment for me. I said Farragas, get up here. I got a big hardware store over in Emmettville. I live there. I see. Do you know anybody who might have had any reason for wanting Farragas' family out of the way? Out of the way like this? I don't have to be a madman. The squad car just turned into the road chief. That's Miss Miller. Looks like Simmons is driving. We've been waiting for an autopsy report, Mr. Mac. It may tell us which way to move. I hope so. Dr. Miller, is autopsy report, Mr. Garrett? Good. Could he establish the poisoning agent? There wasn't any. There wasn't any? You mean he couldn't make an analysis? No, sir. There just wasn't any deliberate introduction of a poison. All three deaths were accidental. Let me see that report. Doc must have missed something this time, chief. No, no. He didn't miss anything, Harrington. The deaths were caused by botulism. Botulism? What's that? The result of improper home canning of food. The report shows that the Farragas made their last meal of green beans, potatoes, and canned sausage meat. The bacteria was unmistakable. It was the home canned sausage meat. Well, I guess in a way we can be thankful, chief. It's nice to know it wasn't litter. In another way, I almost wish it were. Mr. Garrett. No, don't misunderstand me. I'm afraid we've got a greater and a much more dangerous job on our hands than just finding a killer. I don't follow you, chief. We've been all over the house, Harrington. The kitchen, the pantry, everywhere. There's nothing in the house that's home canned and no equipment for home canning. Hey, that's right. All we found was one empty jar of the kitchen grain board. Farm women do pass out samples of their home canning to friends and neighbors. Mr. Garrett, that jar might have been a gift. Quite a gift, like a stick of dynamite with a lighted fuse. What you're trying to say is that somebody around here might have a pantry full of poison and not know it. That's exactly right, Mr. Mack. The Farragas are dead. But dozens of others may die the same way unless we find out where that sausage meat came from and fast. Harrington kept it all available local police on this with a couple of squads sent out from the city. I want the sheriff and all his available men part, too. Right. Send them out for a 20-mile radius. I want direct contact with anybody in the area who can't be reached by phone. See if anybody they can reach give the Farragas a jar of sausage meat. Get right on it. Have it set up in 20 minutes. Ms. Miller, you'll be in charge of the phone campaign, special operators from the phone company, all that they can spare, all the things in this area that be called. So where will you be? Back at the office. Apparently, we don't get any more calls from the hospital or the morgue before we find the source of that jar. All right, you. Oh, that's an elevator. Hold it, Pete. I don't think we miss more than a dozen people in the area you mapped out. Now, we know most of those are away on business or vacations. Yeah, I know. Five days. If only somebody come forward and admit that they came to stop the Farragas safe. We know we were safe. They may be afraid of being held responsible for the death. Oh, with the newspaper, the TV and the radio campaigns? Tell them about the inquest how the death is acts of devil. That's the same. People scare. This is something to wonder about. Oh, here we are. Thanks, Pete. Maybe one of the squads will go up to the floor with this fellow. What time is it? Almost 10 p.m. Sorry to keep you so late again, Ms. Miller. Any news? I'm afraid not. Everybody's checked in. The reports are on you, guess. Oh, thanks. You'd better go home. All right. Well, there's a Mr. Carruthers in your office. He's been waiting to see you since about 6 o'clock. 6 o'clock? That's a long wait in any league. You know who he is? No, or what he wants? He wouldn't tell me. He said it's confidential. All right. I'll see him. You run along. Good night. Good night, Harry. Good night, Ms. Miller. Well, let's have a look at the reports and see what the very patient Mr. Carruthers wants. Excuse me. I almost dozed off. No, it's all right. I'm Paul Garrett. This is my assistant, Mr. Heinten. All right. Anything we can help you with? Yes. Yes, I flew down from Hartford to see you, Mr. Garrett. I'm an investigator for the Eastern Infrontier Insurance Company. Mr. Garrett, we understand that you are still investigating deaths of Robert and Mae Farragut and her brother, Walter McMahon. Well, we're trying to locate the source of the food that killed him, if that's what you mean. Then this isn't a criminal investigation. Didn't you get a report on the in-class verdict? Yes, sir. You can't blame this for being interested when a beneficiary submits a claim for $30,000. $30,000? Who's a beneficiary? Somebody who had a half interest in the Farragut farm. A man named Sid Mack. No wonder he could afford a war for a $10,000 reward sheet. Yeah. How long ago were those policies written, Mr. Carruthers? I have the dates right here. Just a little over a year ago when Mack bought his interest in the farm. That's the main reason my company wanted to be certain about your investigation, Mr. Garrett. It's a routine matter, of course, for partners to ensure each other, but this involves Farragut's entire family. Yes, it is. However, since there's no criminal investigation, you have to honor Mr. Mack's claim. Thank you for your time, Mr. Garrett. Just a moment, Mr. Carruthers. I suggest you don't recommend payment of that claim just yet. But, Mr. Garrett, you just said there's no criminal investigation. There wasn't a minute ago, but there is now. This is David Bryan. Before we continue with Mr. District Attorney in the case of the canned death, here is an important message from our sponsor. Back to David Bryan, starring as Paul Garrett. Mr. District Attorney. Connor had listed as accidental the death of three persons, all victims of botulism, a deadly food bacteria resulting from improper home mechanics. In trying to locate the source of the lethal food to prevent other fatalities, we came into contact with an insurance investigator who disclosed that the three dead people had been heavily insured and that the beneficiary was Sid Mack. Harrington and I got a search warrant for Mack's house. Mack had already left for his hardware store, but we were admitted by a hired girl who disappeared as we were making our search. There was nothing in the kitchen, Chief. There was nothing in the pantry either, Harrington. Let's try to sell it. Well, scooted enough, Harrington, Chief. I'll be gone to Mack's hardware store to tell him what we're doing. Yeah, he'll have kept it until we finish. Doesn't make any difference. He knows sooner or later. And if there's anything here, he won't be able to stop us from finding it. We're not going to find anything, Chief. If there was more of that contaminated food, he'd be stupid to have it around. Now, if he killed the fireworks, he's not stupid. His whole job is too clever. No crime is perfect, though. If there was a crime, there's been a slip someplace. Let's move those crates. Okay, Chief. Try the barrel. Must be Mack. You down there, Carrick? That's right, Mr. Mack. You know so much about the law. Maybe you're going to need more of the search warrant. I had a call from the insurance man named Carrotta this morning. And we had a call from him last night. That's why we're here. I've got a legitimate insurance claim, but you stop payment of it. It'll be paid in due time, if it should be paid. Yeah. Let me tell you something, Garrick. How did the farm, before we found out what killed the parishes, I offered to put up everything I have as a reward. Didn't I? Yes, Mack. You did. I'm glad you mentioned that, Mack. Because it just brought something to my mind. Something that's been trying to register ever since you made that offer. What? How long have you been on the hardware business? Look, eleven years. Why? Because when we told you the Farrakets died from botulism, from food that wasn't canned properly, we almost had to draw you a blueprint. You didn't seem to know anything about it. How should I know anything about it? Don't you sell canning equipment at the hardware store? All right. We can ride over to the store, have a look at your stock. Do you sell it or don't you? All right. I sell canning equipment. Any hardware store does. I don't even know why I'm bothering to talk to you. You've got your warrant. Go ahead and search. But you're not going to find anything here. No canning equipment and no canned sausage meat. So go ahead. Search your heads off. He knows something about those debt sheets. He practically told us right away. Yes, he's pretty sure of himself. He hasn't got a case and he knows it. He could have brought canning equipment home from the store then dished it when he was finished. You'd need more than just equipment behind it. What? Pork, cognate. Quite a bit of it too. Mochilism bacteria isn't easy to cultivate. Even deliberately. You could probably take quite a few tries before a poisonous batch developed. I don't know. We can check butcher shops. And the farms. He might have had one butcher to some farm around here. Yeah. Well, it means we've got to comb this whole section with the county again. Yeah, they'd do that or... Or what? Or let a man get away with a triple murder. I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. Let's go. You might have given me some kind of a lead though. Like what? Well, it seems there's a place we missed when we were making our first check around here. It's not really a farm. Well, what is it then? It's a place over Dake Road, about a half mile north of here. Far as this says, there's an old woman living in a shack back there with her grandson. Her name is Annie Hibbs. I wanted for us to say about her. She had a thing hard to remember the name Annie Hibbs, Chief. They usually call her by a nickname. They call her the pig woman. She raises hogs. That's our next stop. Far as this says, she's kind of strange. You know, her grandson is feeble-minded. They had him at the state asylum for a while, but he was harmless, so they let him go. And why are you looking so worried? Well, Hogs aren't the only animals up there, Chief. Far as this says, they've got the meanest dog in the state. And don't they keep him tired? Yeah, but he chews loose. And he hates everybody but the old lady and her grandson. Well, we've got to see those people. That's going to take more than a mean dog to stop us. Think then, too. Look, sir, there's a man. Look. Hey, hey, mister, wait a minute. He's taking off like a scared jackwrapper, Chief. That must be the grandson. Now, let him go for now. Why did you stare at my grandson? What do you want, sir? Well, we'll tell you in a minute, but there's something else we'd like to know first. Where's your dog? That's him. Very there. The devil come for him. He's dead. And Luke cries for him. He's afraid at night without the dog. Luke must be the grandson, Chief. Yeah. We just came up here to see if you have any home canned sausage meat we might buy. No. I don't know nothing about canning. I see. Then you never gave any canned sausage meat to a family named Farragut. You know who they were, don't you? Their farm is less than a mile from here. Yes. I know. Then you must also know they're dead. Not dead. Grand glory. If you never gave anything to the Farraguts, did you ever give or sell, you know, any of the canned sauces to a man named Sid Mac? Or even a live hog? Well, did you any? You've got to write to sell what you own. I don't know nobody by that name. He owns the hardware store in Emmettville. That's the only town near here. I never sold him nothing. He'd never come up here. Oh, tell us that he never... It's all right, Harrington. Thank you, Annie. That's all we wanted to know for now. Hey, don't you ever come back here again! When you come back to that place again! You'll never get your culture back off with living. You ain't taking Luke back to that place. You ain't taking Luke back to that place. She means the asylum, I think. Yes. Get over behind that brush. It's hard to tell with anybody like that. But she seemed to tighten up when you mentioned Sid Mac. Yes, he's been up here all right. Harrington, I've got a hunch. You stay here until I send the lad crew out. What for? I want to know what killed Annie's dog. Oh, yes, he's here. No words for Harrington yet? No, sir. Radio division tried again about 45 minutes ago and still can't reach him. Or the lab car. That's not where that dog was buried. It was close enough to the road for them to hear the radio calls. I've been out of my car. I'll have to go. Chief, we've got... The whole case is cracked wide open. Oh, what happened? Botulism killed the dog, all right. We caught Annie's grandson. When we carved him down, he told us the dog had died. After Sid Mac had bought a jar of meat up and up the feeder. And Sid is mine. And we still haven't got him cornered. Why not? There's Luke's background on the asylum and a smart defense attorney in court scaring him and confusing him. His story wouldn't hold up. Not even if we could produce a few more jars of the contaminated batch with Mac's fingerprints all over them? You've got them? More than 20 jars. Luke showed us where Mac buried them. About 100 jars from the dog's grave. So that's why radio division couldn't reach you? That's right. That's why. What time is it, Miss Miller? 10 past four. Good. Come on, Harrington. We can make Emmettville very nicely before Sid Mac closes his hardware store. Kind of a bright idea if you've got this term. An idea that's going to put you for murder, Mr. Are you kidding? You can drop that smile, Mac. We've got the whole story from Luke Hibbs and his grandmother. The words of a lunatic. Doesn't the law say something about a reasonable doubt, Mr. Garrison? Not when we've got some buried samples of your canning with your fingerprints all over the jars. Just yours. So, like it once said, I sell canning equipment and if I sold those jars, I handled them. And my prints were on them. I think my story is good on that point. I don't. Because those prints were put on the jars after they were filled and the canning completed, any prints that were on them before that would have been steamed off in the process of canning and proving that to a jury won't be hard. Don't you raise that core hammer, Mac. Don't make me put a bullet in you because, frankly, Mr. I'm tempted. Wait a minute. Don't let him talk like that, Mr. Garrick. I grabbed it. I'm not resistant. All right. Just keep it that way. Let's go. You've got to do all wrong, I tell you. It was all an act to save it for the jury. You'd better lock up. You won't be coming back. What can I do? What can I do to square this? Bring three people who trusted you back to life. Go on. Lock it. Brian again. I hope you've enjoyed this case from the file of Mr. District Attorney. I'll be back in just a moment after this message from our sponsor. Mr. District Attorney, David Bryan, with a word about the program you have just heard. David Mack was tried and convicted on a charge of murder in the first degree. The death sentence was mandatory when the jury failed to recommend clemency. And now this is David Bryan inviting you to join us when we present our next case based on the facts of crime from the files of Mr. District Attorney. Mr. District Attorney was originated by a Philip Dates law.