 Mr. District Attorney, starring David Bryan, District Attorney, champion of the people, defender of truth, guardian of our fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Only to prosecute to the limit of the law, all persons accused of crimes, perpetrated within this county, but to defend with equal vigor the rights and privileges of all its citizens. In a moment we'll bring you another case from the files of Mr. District Attorney. The first the word from our sponsor. Mr. District Attorney. Before a District Attorney can begin, there are three things you must know. When and where the murder was committed, and the identity of the victim. All three of these elements were unknown when this case began. It started with a midnight call from Harrington, asking me to meet him at the railroad freight yards on the outskirts of the city. It's the third box time that's starting over there, Chief. We're just past this weekend. The yard detective and the breakman were going through the cars with the behold balls when they spotted the duffel bag in the empty. At first they thought it was something some poet left behind. Then when they went to lift it, they realized it was a party of it. Harrington said she was about 21 years old. Any clothing? Yeah, but I said everything must have been home-laundered. Do you want to rest them at the time of death? Sir, seven hours ago, between five and six p.m. Oh, sure, sure. Hey, Charlie. That's good. Hey, I'll give you a boost up, Chief. The duffel bag there. Yeah. Duffel bag itself won't help much. Kind anybody could pick up in a war surplus store. Blood seepage. It's more than blood. A cart of this bag are armed with a body, and it must have set it down someplace to rest. Little earth clung to it. Some of it off between your fingers. Ah, fine grain. Like beach sand? Yeah. Yeah, just thinking of the train schedule. The body couldn't have been put on until after the matter. Say after six o'clock. The train made three stops between then and the time it pulled into the yards. Any of those stops on the coast? Only one. A watering stop near Lobster Bay. Fishing village and a resource center. Lots of people pouring in and out of there this time of the year. Ah, we only knew who she was. Only there was a laundry mark. Well, there's one thing we've got. Ah, what? Her shoes. Ah, cheap mate. Could have come from a thousand stores all over the country. Yes, but these were repaired recently. We could find the shoemaker or fix them. He might recognize his work. We'll take these with us. Leave the rest for the lab. Cross the street there. A table by the window of that seafood place. Clear the mystery. I'm afraid we're more interested in the secrets of death. The sea would have warned her. Then you have seen her. First station, with the man. Do you know who the man was? No. What took you so long to make up your mind? No. Can you describe him for us? Neither light nor dark. Neither tall nor short. Part of the sea of humanity. Like any other part. Thanks. By a necklace. Each shell has a thousand years. She saw was the killer. She knew him. He might pay her to try to contact the man we're looking for. I want you to follow her. I ain't in the beach. Wherever she goes. I'll do some more checking around town. You can check me at the hotel with me a bit. Then pick a doorway for a stick. I'll resolve this up there. Look like Miss Miller. What would she be doing in Lobster Bay unless the lab came up with death? She just came out again. It is her. Must be lab information then. If you stop here, I'll catch her. Miss Miller. The hotel said you're... Where's Harrington going? We've got somebody under surveillance. I'll explain later. What have you got for us? Reports from the lab. Those stitches used to fill the victim into the duffel bag. Yes. Morgan says that the kind of stitches used by semen, the mem-torn sails. Well, most sailing vessels are pleasure craft these days. It fits in with a resort town like this. The girl is still a mystery. She wasn't a local resident. She may come from Sheffield. What makes you think so? Morgan found a bus ticket and a small pocket of her dress. It was a ticket from Lobster Bay to Sheffield. Now, that fits with the story we got about the murderer woman being seen at the bus depot here. She might have been buying a ticket to go home. A population of Sheffield's over 100,000. Her identity might not be easy to trace. Unless you give her a photo to the Sheffield newspapers. I want to avoid that for a while if I can. I've got something else I can use in tracing her pair of shoes. Do you want me to go back to the city? No. You go to the hotel and wait for a call from Harrington. You'll have to be our message center. Yes, sir. Where will you be? In Sheffield, checking shoe repair shops. In Sheffield, I've tried. Police business. You're my credential. I fixed these, all right? The broken strap. I remember for something else, too. I never get paid for the job. Who owns the shoes? Mrs. Watson. She's lived two blocks up in the street. Brown Woodhouse. Mrs. Watson. Her husband around? No, no, no. He's gone away one month. Ever hear anybody say where the husband went? Who knows? He's a go all the time. Sometimes to work at some place in a factory. Sometimes to work with the fishing boats. You mean he's been a seaman? Sometimes. A little bit of everything. Say, what are you asking me all of these things? How come you got at the shoes? Because Mrs. Watson doesn't need them anymore. She's dead. The house is two blocks up the street. Brown Wood and Frame. See, see. Mrs. Watson's a mama, does she know? I'm afraid not. You got to tell her. It's part of my job. What's going to happen to the poor Bambino? The old lady, she's too old to take care of a small baby all the time. Too old and too poor. Maybe not a body come home and take care of her. I hope he can. He's on the Bambino. What's going to stop him unless he's in some kind of trouble? Is he in a trouble? That depends whether or not he's sewed up the top of a certain duffel bag. Thanks for your help, Mr. Scanoe. Oh, sure, sure, sure thing. First time. Then, lastly, for husband no tour. From Lobster Bay. He said he was sorry. Wanted my daughter, Helen, to come and meet him. I thought she was there with him. And it seems that she was for a while. Can you give me your son-in-law's full name and description? Herbert Watson, Mr. Snape. They call him Bud. Herbert Bud Watson. How tall would you say somebody at the door? You want me to answer it? No, I'll call out the women and send them away. I don't want to see anybody now. What's the matter? What is it? I'm in love, Bud. Looks like he's saving us a lot of trouble. Better open the door, man, and let him in. In the case of the body on the freight train, here is an important message from our sponsor. A search for her identity led to a seaside resort and then to a town inland where facts began to indicate that her estranged husband was the killer. I was getting the husband a description from the dead woman's mother when the husband suddenly appeared at the house seeking evidence. What did he come back here for? That's something we'll find out when we let him in. I'll step behind the door. You open it and we'll be identified. It seems like this is her hour for picking up shells. Who's that you got in the car? Bud Watson. I identified the murdered girl. He's her husband. Is he clean? I don't know. I want you to look at this man, Rosie. You ever seen him before? Didn't know she seen me before. She didn't ask you. Well, how about it, Rosie? Yes. All right. Now tell us. Is he the same man you saw at the bus depot with the girl whose photograph I showed you? Yes. Same man. At the bus depot? Ellen, at the bus depot. You hear that, Rosie? That means one of you is lying. Well, I'm not lying. Well, have a look at your place after we get you behind bars in the local jail. Start work. You know why Watson won't admit it if he won't? I think he's telling the truth. And Rosie must be covering up for something. Press this screwball. I should have stayed with her. She torches. Stop it. She's been murdered. They said that somebody could cut her throat. All right. Let's get out there. The plates were shot like this. Mrs. Watson might have been killed in a place like this. And the two other things. Whoever was living here was mighty. It was where somebody practiced throwing a knife. Yeah. Good aim, too. All the marks inside the circle. Take a look at that cord. That's a seamen's knot. Yes, and the cord itself is just about big enough to be the draw cord from a duffel bag. A seamen we've been looking for was here all right. It couldn't have been Watson, Chief. Rosie was alive when we jailed him. You think it might have been an old shipmate of his? Let's go ask him if he remembers one that was handy. Because he was in some kind of trouble with the law. But this year I wrote to him and asked him to meet me here again. But he... Yeah, I was. But the doc's there. Money to stop moving for a while. From the circle on the door. After this message from our sponsor. Michael's the necklacewoman. Confunded with proof of his guilt, he broke down and confessed to her murder and the murder of Mrs. Watson. He is now awaiting... But Watson was convicted on a charge of extortion but was placed on probation. Now this is David Bryan. Originated by Phillips H. Law.