 What is it? It's a case for Nick Carter, master detective. Yes, it's the case of the clumsy forteries. Another case for that most famous of all manhunters. The detective whose ability at solving crime is unequaled in the history of detective fiction. Nick Carter, master detective. We have much more to do on this report. Not much, Patsy. Why? Well, it's after five, and I have an appointment with my hairdresser at six. You'll make it all right. I'll see that you do. Far be it for me to prevent you from making yourself as beautiful as you can. Nick, what a thing to say. I was only joking, Patsy. Really, you're a fine-looking girl. Oh, Nick, do you mean that? Well, yes, of course I do. Oh, that's the first personal compliment you've paid me in all the years I've been working for you. I didn't know you ever noticed me, except as your assistant. I notice a good many things I don't mention, Patsy. Oh, don't I know that by now? Well, I could. Oh, darn it. I bet I don't keep that date with the hairdresser after all. Nick Carter's office, Patsy Bowen speaking. Hey, is Nick there, Ms. Bowen? This is Dr. Bradford. Oh, yes, just a minute, doctor. Here, Nick, Dr. Bradford. Oh, thanks. Oh, Doc, where you been keeping yourself all these months? I haven't seen you in a dog's aid. I know it's. Especially good ones like you. What's new? Well, Nick, I've just run into a very peculiar thing. And I think you can help me. Glad to, if I can. Let's have it. Well, I've been treating old Gerald Gould for years. He's been in bed with a very bad heart for some time now due to pop off almost any minute. Well, this afternoon when I dropped in for my regular visit at 5 o'clock, I found him dead. Heart failure? To the best of my ability to determine so quickly, yes. But when I started to straighten out the body so it wasn't as twisted as it was when he died, I found a piece of paper under him. Which was scribbled. He killed me. He gave me. That's all. Looks as if he started to write something and died before he could finish it. Well, could he have been having hallucinations? I wouldn't say so. But I'd like your opinion before I do anything. Maybe you can find something that I've missed. It'll show whether it was murder or not. You at the Gould house now? Yes, could you take a run over here? Certainly, Doc. If you really think it'll help. I'm sure it will. But just in case, suppose you come as my assistant. Say you, Mr. Mr. Mr. Nicholas, how's that? Oh, fine, fine. All right, Doc. I'll be there in 10 minutes. You see, Nick, this note was under his shoulder just as if he'd rolled over on it in his last moments. This pencil was there too. How long had he been dead when you arrived? Only a few minutes at most. Uh-huh. Tell me, Doc, isn't it perfectly possible to kill a man with a bad heart? Such a way as to make it look like heart failure? Yes, easily. Any stimulant that acted on his heart would do it in pretty short order. But does he show any signs of such a stimulant? No, but that wouldn't prove anything. No topsy is the only way to be sure. Yes, of course. Well, let's see if we can find any evidence here to point in one direction or the other. If anything was given to him, it could have been in this glass. The only one near enough for him to have reached it. Hmm. Ah, only one person's fingerprints on it. See the old man's thumb. Yes, same all right. That little scar makes it definite. That's peculiar to say the least. How do you mean, Nick? Well, if you give a person a drink, do you wipe your own prints off the glass first? Of course not. Oh, I see what you're getting at. Somebody did give him something deliberately. That'll be my guess. Just take this along. We have the contents analyzed. I can wrap it in this wax paper. By the way, have you told the family yet? That he's dead, yes. Not that he was killed. I asked him to wait downstairs until I was ready for them. Let's see, there are two sons, if I recall. Yes, Raymond is the elder and Peter. What do they like? Well, Raymond is pretty much of a sport, but Peter is a quiet stay-at-home type. They're both nice fellows, as far as I know. Uh-huh. The gold have a nurse? Yes, would you like to see her? She's in the next room. Yes, please. I'll get her. Uh, Ms. Waters. Yes? Ms. Waters, would you come in, please? Yes, doctor. Ms. Waters. This is Mr. Carter. Nick Carter. How do you do? Is he a detective? Yes. I regret to tell you that Mr. Gould did not die naturally. He was murdered. Murdered? But, doctor, you said he died of heart failure. He did, Ms. Waters, but somebody induced that heart failure. I want to know. Why were you when Mr. Gould died? Why, um, in the kitchen, I suppose, you see, every day Dr. Bradford comes to see Mr. Gould around five o'clock. So about 4.30, I go down to the kitchen to get his supper ready. He likes to eat right after Dr. Gould's. And I was there till Dr. Bradford called me to tell me Mr. Gould was dead. Was anyone there with you? Cook was. Same as always. You don't think I did it, do you? Just checking up, that's all. Did you give him anything except his regular medicine today? No. You ever used the glass that was here in the corner of this table? Well, that was Mr. Gould's water glass. Anybody could have used it to give him a drink. He drank lots of water. Mm-hmm. Mr. Gould keep any valuables here in this room. The only thing I know about is that box of his on the shelf under the table over there, he used to... Well, I declare, it's open. Was it usually kept locked? Yeah. Never saw it open before unless he was using it. And look at the keys there on the table. They was always kept under his pillow. So look at that. No, no, don't touch it. Maybe print, son, if that will need. I looked it carefully like this. This copper surface shows up the prints excellently. Well... What is it, Nick? This is strange. Only one set of prints on this tube. Are they Mr. Gould's? I don't think so. I can't be sure. Well, let's see what's inside. Sorted papers, a letter from his lawyer, few notes. Oh, and a will. Signed and witnessed by Amelia Waters and Delphina Hayes. That's Cooke and me. Hmm. Leaves a thousand a year to Peter and the rest to Raymond. Oh, you must be mistaken, Nick. He'd never leave everything to Raymond. Well, that's what it says here. That's queer. That's very queer indeed. Does Raymond know about this will? Oh, no, sir, he doesn't. Cooke and I were told to keep it a secret. And we have. I see. Are both the boys here now, doctor? Yes, downstairs in the living room. Good. I'll take the dead man's prints and then we'll have a talk with the two sons. The law says you have to report a murder as soon as it's discovered. Why ask me a fool question like that? I just wanted to be sure, Mary. Oh, for the love of Pete. Oh, well, here's the report. Yeah. Gerald Gould has just been found dead in his bed. Apparently died of heart failure. But that ain't murder, Nick. That's, uh, well, that, uh, ah, Fui. But it is murder, even though the only real proof at the moment is my own hunt. Well, why didn't you say so? I'll have a man up there right away. No use, Mary. You won't find anything. Won't find anything? Why not? Because I've got all the clues with me, so don't bother sending anyone up here. But Nick, if there's a murder, I get her. Not this time, Mary. Leave everything to me. I'll see you in a little while. Goodbye. Then wait, Nick. Did you say father was murdered? Well, boys, this isn't really my assistant. It's Nick Carter, the private investigator. Nick Carter? Now, boys, it seems to be a little questioned that what your father died of heart failure. Induced by someone who wanted him dead now rather than later. And that's murder. I can't believe it. Do either of you know the terms of your father's will? No, I don't. I've always understood he was planning to leave most of his money to Peter. He didn't exactly approve of me. Where have you two been this afternoon? I've been right here in the living room since after lunch. I came home about three o'clock and I've been in my room ever since. Did either of you go to the sick room this afternoon at any time? I didn't. I didn't leave my room. I haven't been near it. Have there been any visitors? No, if there had been, I'd have seen them come in. Mr. Carter, what makes you think father was murdered? He left a note which said so. And also, there's additional evidence to support that fact in the fingerprints and the glass he used and on the strongbox he kept in his room. Could you explain what you mean, Mr. Carter? Not just now. Then I suppose that if no one came in from outside, all of us here in the house, the cook, the nurse, Raymond and I are all suspects? You are. And I should take your fingerprints, if I may. Why? I'll need them as evidence. Just put your fingers in this ink pad. So then on this paper, like this. Good. All right, Peter? You don't mind? Not at all. That's right. All right, thank you, both of you. Now, neither of you will leave town until I say so. All right, so. But how do you go about finding a killer in a case like this? Routine investigation to start with. Looking to the backgrounds and personal lives of everyone concerned. That brings out the motives and frequently gives us information that'll help determine guilt or innocence. Together with actual clues present at the scene of the crime, of course. Sounds pretty complicated to me. Sounds complicated to me too, but there's one thing about Nick Carter. He has a reputation for always uncovering the guilty party once he gets on a case. Nothing gets away from him. Well, I wish you luck, Mr. Carter. You better let me wish you luck, because it won't be lucky for whoever killed Mr. Gould. All right, doc, you ready? Right with you, Nick. Good day, boys. Goodbye, Dr. Bradford. Well, Nick, where do you start this investigation of yours? Well, I think that before I do anything else, I better turn these documents I found in the strongbox over to Mr. Lind, Gould's lawyer. Oh, I can take them down for you. I'm going that way. Oh, what do you think? Glad to do it. That'll let me get to police headquarters a little sooner. Matt, he must be ready to hang me by now. Well, it's darn near time you got here. You tell me there's been a murder, and then you tell me to stay away. Well, I sent a couple of men up there anyway. Well, Matt, as I told you on the phone, they won't find anything. I've got the only clues with me right here in the bag. I'm saving you time. Saving me time? Yeah. You're giving me heart failure? Oh, what a pal. All right, here we are. Here's a drinking glass, contents unknown, with only the dead man's prints on it. Have it analyzed to see what was in it, will you? Yeah, all right, Mr. Carter. Whatever you say. Thank you. Yes, Sergeant. Come in here. Yes, sir. Now, what else, Nick? Here's a copper box with some fingerprints on it. Gould kept his will and some other papers in it. And here, for comparison, are the prints of the dead man and his two sons. See if the prints in the box can be identified. Yes, Sergeant. Here, take this glass to the chemist. Tell him I want to know what was in it. And have the fingerprint boys look this box over. All right, Sergeant. And here, Mary, is a note found under the dead man's body. Yeah, let me see that. He killed me. He gave me. Well, I suppose he just had time to write this before he passed out. That's what I thought, too. And then when I found this pencil under the body, I wasn't so sure. How do you mean? The note was written with a soft pencil. But the pencil I found is a hard one. So the whole thing is a put-up job, murder. I told you that before. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you did. I'm just thinking. I can think, too, can't I? I hope so. Why you? OK, OK. Now look, Nick, would you mind telling me about the murder? Very simple, Matty. Gerald Gould had a very bad heart. Somebody gave him a stimulant. Started his heart racing, overtaxed it, and it stopped. He died. So, and without the clues you picked up, it would have looked like a natural death. Not bad, not bad. Here's the report, Sergeant. Oh, let's see. Glass contained benzodrine and water. It's an awful, deadly combination. Certainly is. If the victim had a bad heart, as Mr. Gould did, how about the prints on the box? The only prints on the box are Raymans. And that means what? Considering that the will which was in the box leaves practically everything to Rayman. It's interesting, to say the least. You mean he did it? I do not. But I'm going to start finding out who did it, if I can. Where are you starting? Going to do some research work on the two good boys. Well, good night, Matty. I'll see you soon. OK, hey, now look, Nick. Will you keep in touch with me? Oh, by the way, Matty, is Demler Street open again? Yeah, they finished it up yesterday. Why? It's a shortcut for me. I'm no way back to the office. Less traffic saves time. OK. OK, so long. I'll be seeing you. Even less traffic here than usual. I wonder if Patsy's back yet. I'd be just like her to wait for me when there's no need of it. Calling Patsy Boone, private investigator. Calling Patsy Boone. Patsy Boone. Patsy speaking, Nick. Are you in trouble? No, indeed. Just wanted to tell you to go on home. Oh, did you get your hair fixed? No, I've been waiting here. I never know when you're going to need me. Oh, sorry, Patsy. Go on home and go to bed. I'll tell you all about it in the morning. OK, Nick. Good night. Poor Patsy. Always gets down on a woman. Hey, what are you doing? Driving through a red light like that. Oh, he's driving through a red light. Well, you big palooka. What's the matter? You're color blind? Look at the radiator in my car and the fender while you smash the whole front in. I don't see nothing. Show me where I hit you. Show you? Look here, man. See the way that. Is that you, Patsy? Hello? Hello yourself. Oh, gosh, Nick. Am I glad to hear you're talking sense again. Huh? Talking sense? Yes. You've been lying here in the hospital for almost two days now, muttering and making no sense at all. Two days? Did you say two days? Practically. That sock you got when you hit your head against the windshield almost gave you a concussion of a brain. When I what? Say that again, Patsy. I said that sock you got when you hit your head against the windshield. Is that what you think happened? Of course. One of the prowl cars found you lying on the wheel of your smashed car with your forehead all cut and bloody. Patsy, it's a plot. I wasn't hurt when the smash-up occurred. Oh, Nick. Does your head hurt, you? Yes, it does, but I'm not out of my mind. After the accident, I got out and started to argue with a mugger running into me when he suddenly socked me in the head when I wasn't looking. Is a car that ran into me still there? Oh, no. That was a funny thing. The other car was gone. Somebody wanted to get rid of me, and apparently thought they had. So they towed the other wreck away. But Nick, who would want to kill you? For a guess, I'd say the same person who killed Gerald Gould. I was afraid I'd find out too much when I started investigating him. Well, he failed this time, and he won't get the chance again. And I'll find out what he was afraid I'd find out just as soon as I get out of this bed. Well, the doctor said you'd have to stay here at least another three or four days. Nonsense. I'll be out of here tomorrow at the latest. Oh, by the way, have you heard anything more about the Gould case? Uh-uh. Sergeant Matheson called this morning to ask how you were. Said he was getting nowhere rapidly. Oh, well, he said he heard the Gould will was to be read tomorrow afternoon at the lawyer's office. Now I know I'll be out of here tomorrow. I've got to be present for that will as read. Oh, but Nick, you can't. And why do you have to be there? I don't know, Patsy. I just know I've got to be present when Mr. Lind reads that will. Doctor or no doctor, I'm going to be at Lind's office tomorrow afternoon. Now that Mr. Carter has arrived, I shall proceed to the reading of the will. What's the idea of having a detective in a cop here? This is a family affair. Raymond, Mr. Carter and Sergeant Matheson are here at my invitation. And now, if you're ready, I shall be brief. This will drawn up by Mr. Gould six days ago to rape that his funeral expenses and all other outstanding debts be paid first. He then directs that $1,000 a year for life be paid from his estate to his youngest son, Peter. What's that? I said he leaves you $1,000 a year for life. That's a dirty jib. He always said I was to have it all. Please, Peter, this is no time for an argument. Well, I can't live on that. Who gets the rest of the money? To his eldest son, Raymond, Mr. Gould leaves the balance of his estate. Father never wrote that will. This is amazing. Father always said I'd get practically nothing. I'll bet you had a hand in this, Ray. Father would never do a thing like that to me, not unless he'd been influenced. Peter, how can you think that? You had much more influence with Father than I ever did. Let me see that will. Certainly, here it is. See? I told you something was wrong. That's not Father's signature. Hey, wait a minute. What is that? I tell you, Father never signed that will. That signature is a forgery. Are you sure, Peter? Of course, I'm sure. Get an expert, he'll tell you. Now that I look at it closely, it does look wrong. Excuse me a moment. I know, Father would never do a thing like that to me. Is this why you wanted to get the will read? Did you expect this? Well, I expected something, Betsy, but I wasn't sure what. Nick, this changes the whole case of will. Yes, certainly puts a new light on things, doesn't it? I think I began to see where we're headed. Oh, for goodness sake, Nick. Oh, here's Lynn to get. There's no question about it, gentlemen. This will is a forgery. I see it now. Ray forged the will and then killed Father to get the money. I did no such thing. It was you who killed Father. I? Why should I kill him? I don't get anything out of the will. The boy's right. And it was Raymond's fingerprints on the strong box. Raymond Gould, I arrest you. You don't arrest me. Hey, come back here. Father, why are you going to help catch him, Nick? No, no, Mario, get him. He's got the whole police force at his command. I'm more interested in something else. But don't you think Raymond is guilty? Certainly looks that way, doesn't it? Oh, Mr. Lind. Oh, Mr. Carter, this is terrible. Never before has such a thing happened in my office. Oh, Mr. Lind, did you ever see this will before? Yes, and that's why I can't understand it. I stoked in to see Mr. Gould the other afternoon. And he showed me the will he had just drawn up by himself. He bragged about saving a lawyer's fee by using his own typewriter and copying a will I had drawn for him some time ago. He said he'd changed the names of the heirs around, but that otherwise it was just the same. Wasn't this will you now have? To the best of my knowledge, it was and is. And yet the signature. Did he say why he'd changed the will? Simply said, he'd learned something about his son he never knew before, and that he'd be done if he was going to leave his money to a cheat like that. So this fake will is a copy of Mr. Gould's own will as he drew it up. I think so. As far as I can remember, oh, it's incredible. Well, Patsy, let's go back and talk to Ms. Waters again. Mr. Gould's nurse? Right. Situation has changed somewhat since I last saw her. Oh, by the way, Mr. Lind, you mind if I take this phony will along with me? Not at all. If it'll do any good in finding out what's happened, I think maybe it will. Thanks. I'll see you as soon as I learn something. And Ms. Waters, you said you and the cook witnessed the will which Mr. Gould drew up himself. Yeah, we did. Is this your signature? Why, yes, that's no it ain't either. I thought not. Why, for pity's sake? Because this will is a forgery, signatures and all. Well. Did either of the sons ever borrow their father's typewriter? Yeah, they did. Most of them, every little while. Patsy, go upstairs and get me a sample of typing from that machine, will you? Of course, Nick. Bring you back every letter there is on it. Good girl. Now, Ms. Waters, tell me, was there any friction between Mr. Gould and either of the boys? Him and Raymond used to argue all the time. Mr. Gould didn't like the way Raymond carried on. But him and Peter got along all right. Mm-hmm. Did Mr. Gould have an argument with anyone shortly before he drew up the new will? Do you know? Yeah, he did. I was going by his room the evening before, and I could hear him giving somebody what for. To whom was he talking? Well, now, I couldn't tell you. The other voice was so low, I don't know who it was. But Mr. Gould got a letter that afternoon, made him all excited. Maybe that was what he was talking about. Yes, maybe it was. And that reminds me, Mr. Carter, another letter come today from that same party. You mean the one that got him so excited before? He recognized the fancy handwriting. Want to see it? Yes, I think I better. No, it is. Dear Mr. Gould, why haven't you answered my last letter? I can't wait any longer. If you don't do what I asked you to in three days, I'm going to start something. And you don't want that, do you? Your friend, Alice Fenwick. Return address, 35 Gladstone Place. Here's your typing sample, Nick. Oh, thanks. Yes, that's the typewriter that was used to type the phone it will beyond any question. Good. Well, Patsy, if you'll come along with me, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Alice Fenwick. Who in the world is Alice Fenwick? Well, after I introduce her to you, you can introduce her to me. I don't know her either, but I expect to shortly. Gosh, this is a lonely section out here. It's pretty well out in the suburbs. I've been nearly there now. Hey, Patsy, you see that car parked in the dark shadows under that tree? Yes, why? That's the car that ran into me the night I was hurt. Are you sure? Of course I'm sure. I recognize that patch of light-colored paint on the rear fender. What's it doing out here? I wonder. Maybe there's some connection between that car and the Fenwick girl. She lives in the next house. Oh, Nick, hurry. Let's find out. Maybe it's more trouble. I hope we're not too late to prevent it if there is. That mug will knock me out, please, all together too rough. All right, this is close enough. OK. Don't make any more noise than is necessary, Patsy. I won't. Somebody's having a fight in there, Nick. That sounds that way. Now look there, through the kitchen window. Nick, he's threatening her. I better get in, man, fast. All right, you take your hands off that girl. Up with your hands, Patsy. Where'd you come from? Keep your hands up in your mouth shut. Patsy, see how she is. Sure, Nick. How are you? What are you doing here? None of your business. Who sent you? We've got your calls for your only chance is to tell what you know. Jack sent me. Tell me the scariest who she'd shut up about. Jack who? Jack Gould. Who's Jack Gould? Old man Gould's son, the guy who killed your man. You sure his name is Jack? Well, how should I know? That's what they call him. How's the girl, Patsy? She'll be all right, Nick. More scared than hurt, I think. OK, I'll call Mary and tell him we're coming down. If he's picked up Raymond, if he can get Peter to join us, our car party will be complete. And we can settle this case. So you caught Raymond, eh, Mary? Yeah. Excellent. Didn't get far, did he? I'll say he didn't. I'm glad you didn't let him get away. He has to pay for what he did. I didn't do it. I'll tell you, no matter what you say. All right, all right. You know what, Nick? Raymond here says he only ran away because the evidence looked so black against him that he was afraid he'd be convicted. And that's just the way the murderer wanted it, look, Mary. Well, you mean he didn't do it, Nick? He did not. Peter killed his brother. No, better sit right where you are, Peter. I want to check my story for me. You haven't done anything against me, not a thing. There's a cop outside the door, son, so I wouldn't try nothing. Are you sure you don't want those other two brought in, Nick? Not yet, Mary. Now, here's the story. About a week ago, Mr. Gould got a letter from a girl named Alice Fenwick, telling him Peter had promised to marry her. And that on the strength of that promise, she had loaned him almost every cent she had. Several thousands, she says. Peter gambled it away and then told her he was through with her. She told him there was a baby coming and insisted he marry her. He laughed at her, so she wrote his father. After a row with Peter, which Miss Waters overheard, Gould changed his will. Somehow, Peter found out about it and got the idea that if he copied the will, which left everything to Raymond, copied it just as it was and forged the signatures, he could claim just what he later did. That Raymond had forged the will and killed his father to get the money. Nick, that's just what he said in the lawyer's office. That was part of his plan, too. Raymond's running away was the action of an innocent man who was scared. So Peter faked the will, then killed Father. Correct. And if the plan had gone, as Peter had expected it to, I would have been executed for Father's death. And Peter would have inherited all the money. You can't prove a word of what you said, Carter. I can, or I wouldn't be saying it. It was you, not your father, who wrote the note saying he'd been murdered. You did that to be sure nobody thought he had died a natural death. And you might have gotten away with it, but you left the wrong pencil with the note. Do you call that proof? And after my interview with you two boys that afternoon, you hired a thug to kill me. And it was just pure luck that he failed. That's a lie. And then this afternoon, when you saw me up and around again, you got panicky that Alice Spendwick might be found and tell her story. So you sent this same thug to kill her, too. Peter did all that? He did. The thug didn't know your correct name, so I asked him to come down here and identify you. All right, get him, will you, Patsy? Of course, Nick. Will you come in, please? OK. All right, you. Is this man sitting here, the one who hired you to bump me off and kill the Fenwick girl? Yeah, that's the guy. You lie. I never saw you before. Oh, so that's the way it is. You're going to leave me to take the rap alone, huh? Nothing doing, Jack. You're in this as deep as me. Now, wait a minute, you. Nick, you're a wonder. But this one thing that bothers me, why were the only fingerprints we found on the strong box? Raymond's. That's easy, Matty. If you were a criminal and wanted to be sure you didn't leave any prints on a shiny copper surface, would you wipe off the box before or after you handled it? Oh, that's a silly question. Why, after, naturally. Well? Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I see what you mean. It was the guy who handled the box ahead of Raymond, who was really the guilty one. No one ever wiped the box off before he handled it. Raymond is a matter of curiosity. When did you touch that box? Right after father's death while the doctor was phoning. I looked in the room and saw the box was unlocked. So I sneaked a quick look at the will. That was all. Well, all I got to say is, son, that your curiosity almost got you executed, if it hadn't been for Nick here. Suppose you watch out next time you feel nosy. You may not get off so easy. Well, Nick, it's about time to hear something about next week's story, I think. How about it? Well, next week, Ken, we're going to hear about a moving picture in which Waldo took an active part. But not an active enough part. Other clues were a few yellow hairs, a pair of Hollywood sunglasses. And a movie director whose looks in 15 years didn't change at all. And what you call is mixed up mess. I call it the case of the make-believe robbery. Nick Carter, master detective, which is produced and directed by Jack McGregor, is copyrighted by Street and Smith Publications Incorporated. Pictured stories of Nick Carter appear in every issue of the shadow comics. In the broadcasts of Nick Carter, master detective, Lon Clark is starred as Nick, Charlotte Manson is featured as Patsy, Mattie is played by Ed Latimer, original music is played by George Wright, script is by Jock McGregor. Any resemblance in these programs to actual persons living or dead or to actual places is purely coincidental. Nick Carter, master detective, is presented over most of these mutual stations each week at this same time. This is Ken Powell saying, so long until next week. This program was heard in Canada through the facilities of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.