 New Post-War Old Dutch Cleanser, famous for chasing dirt, presents Nick Carter, famous for chasing crime. Every week at this time, two great names are joined, as New Post-War Old Dutch Cleanser brings you one of the most resourceful and daring characters in all detective fiction, Nick Carter, master detective. Nick Carter, have you lost your mind? No, Patsy. I said you're going to go crazy. Me? Go crazy? Yes, and Mary and I are going to chase you. But why are you going to chase me? Because you've got the King's Apology, and you're going to run with it until you run into a killer. And now, the case of the King's Apology, today's adventure starring Lon Clark as Nick Carter, brought to you by New Post-War Old Dutch Cleanser. In his library, filled with rare books, letters, stamps and coins, wealthy collector Robert Bixby sits behind a desk and stares coldly at a small, oily man named Thomas Gall. Gall displaying an open leather portfolio filled with papers talks excitedly. I'm deeply obliged to you for asking me to call on you, Mr. Bixby. He hits an honor to see your famous collection. I assure you. Not at all, Mr. Gall. At the same time, I have always regretted the fact that I am the one dealer in this city who has not yet had the good fortune to assist you in your collecting. Indeed, well, I am. But that is why I took the liberty of bringing a few of my more precious items for your esteemed consideration. Several interesting autograph letters dating from the 18th century, especially this note in the handwriting of King George III, King of England during the American Revolution. It is an apology to a friend for failure to keep an appointment. His Majesty's arms on the envelope. Mr. Gall. Yes, Mr. Bixby. I did not ask you here to display your stock. No, Mr. Bixby. I want you to answer a question. A question? Yesterday, while driving past your shop, I saw something that demands full explanation. What did you see, sir? I saw you in close conference with a well-known forger, John Pryor. You saw me? I did. With Pryor, the literary forger. Oh, I think you're mistaken, Mr. Bixby. Let me warn you, Gall. I'm Chairman of the Collector's Association. Oh, I know you can blast my reputation with one word, Mr. Bixby. I know you can put me out of business. And I shall do so, unless you can explain your association with Pryor. I am not associated with him, Mr. Bixby. You're mistaken. You must believe me, sir. That's all you have to say. That's all I can say. Very well. I'm sorry, Gall. I should take action at once. Can you make up your mind, sir? In view of the fact that no explanation is forthcoming... You're going to ruin me? It's not a question of personal animosity. There are other collectors to be protected. It's my duty as chairman. To ruin me. I'm afraid you're ruining yourself. I happen to know you're lying, Gall. I've got too much at stake to let you do that, Mr. Bixby. For five years, I've built up my reputation just waiting for this chance to make a killing. So I'm afraid the killing is going to start with you. In the name of... Don't misunderstand, Mr. Bixby. It's not a question of personal animosity. I've got to protect myself. Goodbye, Mr. Bixby. I hope you enjoy your new career. Collecting fire and brimstone. Nick Carter's office, Patsy Bowen speaking. Hello? Hello? What's the matter, Patsy? He's got me proposing in a new and different way. I don't know who it is, Nick. Hello? Hello? Sounds like someone groaning on the phone. Yeah, let me have it. Hello? This is Nick Carter speaking. Nick... Nick Carter. Yes, this is Nick Carter speaking. Who is this? Nick... Nick Carter. Is something wrong? I... Can't you speak openly? Or are you sick? Come... quick. Who is this? Hello? Hello? What is it? Someone asked me to come quick. No name, no address. Hello? Hello? And no answer. Hang up. He'll call again. No, no. I'll hold onto this line and keep it open. You get on the other phone and call the phone company. Have this open wire traced. Right. And when you get the address, call Maddie. This is an invitation to trouble. We might as well be legal about accepting it. All I've got to say is, Nick, if you interrupted my sandwich to bring me here on a false alarm... What'll you do, Sergeant? I... I don't know. For years, Nick's been breaking into my meals. I still haven't figured out what to do about it. This is no false alarm, Maddie. Hmm. Nobody's answering the door, Nick. You sure it's the right house? Sure it is. Robert Bixby, 103-5 Russell Place? Uh-huh. I'd still like to know what this is all about. So would I. All right, if I use a skeletal key. Uh, look, are you sure he groaned on the phone? On my word of honor, Sergeant. All right, all right. Let's go in and have a look. Good. Well, you got that door open quick enough. You know, Nick, sometimes I'm glad you're on the right side of the law. Except when Nick interrupts your meals. Ah, yeah, yeah. And if this is a false alarm. It isn't, Maddie. I know it now. Huh? What? Look, on the left in the library. What? Oh. Holy smoke. This is Robert Bixby, all right. And he's dead. Oh. And we're smack in the middle of a murder case. He was strangled. Look at the finger marks on his throat. Golly. See the way his head tilt, Maddie? Yeah, his neck's broken. He died instantly. What? But he telephoned us, Nick. We didn't, Patsy. Not with a broken neck. What? Someone else called us. Someone who was here during or immediately after the murder. Oh. Give me the aluminum powder kit for my kid, will you? I want to dust the phone for fingerprints. Right, Nick. Maddie, you better look around. See if anything looks displaced or missing. Yeah, yeah, okay. We'll do. Here's the powder, Nick. Thanks. Not a sign of a print, Nick. No. Whoever telephoned me and grown made sure to wipe all prints off the phone. The whole place doesn't look as though it's been searched, Nick. Nothing's been touched. That's funny. Several thousand dollars worth of rare books and littering material in this room. And nothing was taken. Huh? Then it wasn't murder for robbery. No. Confound it. Why was old Bixby killed? And who called me? And why? Hey, hey, wait a minute, Nick. Here's something under Bixby's feet. It looks like a letter or something. Let's have a look at it. Where do I get it out of the envelope? Oh, it looks pretty old. It's probably a part of Bixby's collection. Uh-huh. It's dated 1780. 1780? Oh, let me see. Seems to be some kind of an apology. Nick, it's signed George R. R? That means Rex, Latin for King. Then this was signed by King George? Yeah, King George III, judging by the date. That must be the Royal Code of Arms on the envelope. Do you really mean that letter is from a king? It's a royal apology, Sergeant. Isn't that exciting? Not only exciting, Patsy, but it also gives us an angle on this case. What's that? A letter's a forgery. It is? Well, how do you know? Never mind that right now, Patsy. Just take my word for it. Okay, Nick. But a man like Bixby would never have a forgery like this in his collection. Evidently, his death wasn't some way connected with this king's apology. And I have an idea. Yeah, what's that, Nick? Suppose you go ahead with the departmental routine, Maddie. Sure, Nick. Patsy and I are going to check our files for a forgery who can do this kind of work. And if we find the man who forged this letter, we may find the man who murdered Bixby. Patrita. Stop that, Patsy. You're giving me a headache. I can't help it. Let Bixby, I could strangle him all over again. The pompous ass. Sitting there so he were my judge. But he's dead, isn't he? Yes, and I could kill him again. And I could kill him each day forever. He'd ruin the work of five years. Yes, that's what he wanted. One word from Bixby and we would have been finished. But we're not. For five years, I've been honest. For five years, I've built up a reputation for this moment. They trust me now, those fools who buy letters and autographs. They believe in me. And in six months, we'll unload every forgery. We'll make a fortune. That's what I've been waiting for. You've been a good wife, Rita. You played along with me during those years when we had to be honest. And don't think it didn't hurt. Ah, but now comes the payoff. We'll make 200,000, maybe three. And we can't be stopped now that Bixby is dead. We can rise to it. I'll take it. Yes? Gull? Yes? This is prior. Yes? I want you to come over to my place for a talk. Why? I got bad news for you, Gull. Talk straight, prior. When, uh, Bixby got you up to his place. How did you find out about that? I was there, Gull. You were what? Bixby had me hidden in the next room. He was going to confront us, Gull. He had it all set up. Think. Think, Gull. That's right. I know all about it. I think you better come over to my place for a talk right away. But I... I'll cost you money if you want me to forge you an alibi for murder. Now let's see, Nick. We've been to see Joe Dyer, Eddie Barker, Sam Browning, and Billy Webster. Yeah. And not a reaction out of any of them. Uh-uh. Leaving John Prior, Henry Forster, and Steve Screnner as the possible forges of the king's apology. Let's hope we have some luck with at least one of them. Yeah. Who are we visiting now? The next man on the list. John Prior. Uh-uh. What's your attack going to be with him? Same as the others. Surprise, sudden shock. Uh-uh. He's got a ground floor apartment in the rear. Now that must be the door down there, down the hall. Right. He'll not give me the shakes, Nick. So stern and official. But that's precisely why I do it. He gives us a psychological answer. Yes? You, John Prior? Yes. I'm Nick Carter. Working in a murder case. Now, I want to talk to you. I brought my secretary along to take notes. Now, now, wait a minute, Mr. Carter. We're stalling, Prior. You're in a bad jam, and you know it. I don't know anything of the kind. Take a look at this letter. What? Don't dummy up, Prior. This is a forged manuscript. The king's apology, dated 1780. And it's your work. No, no, Mr. Carter. As you went with the murder of Robert Bixby, so tight you won't get out of it with a crowbar. You're nuts. That isn't my work. No. Any objections if I take your fingerprints? Fingerprints? You heard me. Prints were left down this letter. On the inside flap of the envelope. I want to compare them with yours. Sure, I've got no objections, Mr. Carter. Just let me go into the kitchen and get the grease off my hands, huh? Okay. I'll get the equipment ready while you're gone. Now, I'll give you all the prints you want as soon as I get my hands clean. Go. Hey, yes. You've been haggling long enough to make up your mind fast. Do I cover for you? But he said he had your fingerprints. He's bluffing. I didn't leave any prints in that letter. And you think I'm a baby? But what do you... 100 grand. That's my price. 100 grand? No. What? I said no, Pryor. I can't trust you. Not with Nick Carter so close to my tail. I'm sorry, Pryor, but I... No hard feelings. We're waiting, Pryor. I'll make it snappy. Come on out, Pryor. You got any idea of disguising those prints? Hey. Love him. He's been stabbed. He's dead. Nick and Patsy stare at the body of John Pryor, stretched out on the kitchen floor, a kitchen knife through his ribs. We'll see what they do in just a moment. Now, back to the case of the King's Apology. Today's adventure with Nick Carter, brought to you by new post-war old Dutch cleanser. Nick and Patsy stand over the dead body of John Pryor, sprawled on the kitchen floor of his apartment. Quickly, Nick's eyes take in the few clues before them. Come on, Patsy. We've got to work fast. All right, Nick. We're going out through that kitchen window, too. Uh-huh. It's only a short drop to the back, Harry. First? Yeah. All right. Come on. I'll catch you. All right. Now, down there. Nick, do you know... Whoever killed Pryor is more than 20 seconds ahead of us. We may have a chance of catching up with him. But who is it? I don't know. He must have been hiding in the kitchen while we were there. Yeah. Pryor probably went back to cook up an alibi and was killed to keep his mouth shut. Oh, Nick, this is a dead end. Well, I'll be. That means we've got to go back to the other way. No, no. That's a dead end, too. I noticed it when I came through the window. Yeah, but... Wait. Look at the handle. What? It's got blood on it. Yeah. He must have gone in here. Hits. Off they dark in the room. I think I hear someone. Probably the killer. Let's go now. Quick. There's too much room in here. He came from inside that. He must be hiding in there. We'll have to go in after him. Yeah. I'll stay with Nick. Be careful. Can't you use your flashlight? No. He's got a gun. He can use the light for a target. Someone closed the door behind us. Killer. He was waiting in back of it. Oh, God. Found it. This door is fastened on the outside with an iron bar. What? Then we're locked in? Yes. Instead of trapping the killer, he's trapped us. And... Why... Why are you sniffing? Got bad news for you. He's opened a gas pipe somewhere in this room. Oh, Nick. We don't work fast. We're a couple of dead ducks. Here, sweetheart. Did you get everything arranged with prior? Here, sweetheart. With prior, end with Nick Carter. Nick Carter. I took care of that gentleman after I took care of prior. What are you talking about? I trapped Nick Carter. And just about now, he should be dead. Unless he can hold his breath for half an hour. Did prior help you? I told you I took care of prior, too. What do you mean? I closed his mouth for good. Tom. He's dead, Rita. You... you killed him? Yes. Look. Rita. I see. You're in love with him, aren't you? Aren't you? An idiot I've been. You had this all worked out with prior, didn't you? Tom. You'd take every nickel I made in this field to go off with prior, eh? That was the idea. You'd help him blackmail me for the rest of my life. And you'd be laughing at me, the two of you. Tom. Tom. No, Rita. Don't worry. I won't kill you. Maybe it's just as well this happened. Now I've got what I want. I've got plenty of money waiting for me. And I've got you. Forever. Oh. Hey, Nick, we haven't gotten anywhere in an apartment with this, but... I... For the love of heaven, what happened to you two? Hello, Sergeant. Hi, I'm Addie. Come help Patsy and me smear ointment on our faces. I repeat, what happened to you? We met the killer. Did you get him? No. He nearly got out. He did... Look, I'd better sit down. Yes, do. You see, Maddie, we were trapped in a cellar storage room. With an open gas pipe. With an open gas pipe? Yeah, an open gas pipe. The killer rents the fixture off and left the gas pouring into the room. But what did you do? Well, Nick found the pipe and lighted the gas. That's how our faces got burned. Yes, that stuff flamed out like a volcano. Luckily, there wasn't enough gas in the room to cause a real explosion. Well, I'll be darned. Then we pounded on the door and yelled until the janitor came and let us out. Ah. Of course, by that time, the killer was gone. Forever, I guess. Uh-huh, no. We're not licked yet, Patsy. That'll, boy, Nick. Okay, but have you got any idea? I have. We're going to catch this killer with a king's apology. You mean the forgery? Yeah. Well, what do we do? Well, I've been nursing my blisters. I've been doing some thinking, Patsy. Uh-huh. Pryor wasn't working on this forgery alone. Oh, you don't think so? No, I don't. Now, look, look, have a heart. I'm not caught up on this case yet. Who's Pryor? I'll brief you later, Maddie. Let me work this out with Patsy first. We have a much time. Okay, go ahead. Now, Pryor was a forger. But he couldn't sell his forgeries himself. Uh-huh. He needed a front man, a dealer to do that. Uh-huh. So there's a strong chance he was killed by the dealer who was working with him. Could be. Go on. That's where our trick starts. Yeah, but what's the trick? Well, first you go crazy. Go crazy? Yes. And Maddie and I chase you. What? Well, why do you chase me? Because you've got the king's apology. And you're going to run with it until you run into the killer. Patsy takes the forged letter and listens carefully to her instructions. Her face brightening as Nick unfolds the mechanism of the trap. We'll learn what it is in just a moment. Now for the conclusion of the case of the king's apology. Today's adventure with Nick Carter brought to you by new post-war old Dutch cleanser. For an hour, Valentine Street, where most of the city's autographed dealers have their shops, has been watching a curious spectacle. A girl has walked into one shop after another, displayed a letter, screamed at the astonished proprietor, and then run out. She is followed cautiously by two men who make profound apologies for her. Finally, she enters the shop of Thomas Gall. Yes, madam. May I be of service to you? Uh, do you sell autographs? Yes, madam. I have a very fine stock for your consideration. Uh-huh. Do, uh, you buy them too? Well, madam, if it is of a... What's that, may I ask? It's a rare old letter. A king's apology. King George III of England. He... Where did you get that letter, madam? Oh, I, uh, I found it. Where did you get the letter? Well, um, maybe it isn't legal, but I found it, and finders keepers. I was outside a house on Russell Place this morning. Russell Place? Uh-huh, number 1035, Russell Place. A man came running out and he dropped this letter. He... Ah! What is it? You're the man. I know you're the man. You're the man who came running out. Major, come quick. You're the man who ran out of the house where Vixby was murdered. You dropped this letter. I know it. Oh, um, oh, I want a black man. You want to be arrested? Get your hands off me! Well, we're not. Nothing till we get to this mania. You can't do that. You can't do that. Take a wildcat. Help me get her into the bank of the store. Tom, let's go. We'll get caught. You want to burn for murder? You're unnecessarily the man. No, I'm not. Oh, no. You're in this with me. This girl has got to be shut up for good. Come on. I'm afraid it's too late, Gal. What? Tom. You left the transom over your door open. We heard everything. This is Sergeant Matheson of the Homicide Squad. You heard the confession, Mary? Every blessed word, Nick. You mind releasing the young lady? She's my assistant, Miss Patsy Bowen. Your assistant? That's right. She pulled this act on every dealer in the street. Oh, what they must all think I'm crazy. Oh, no, Patsy. We've explained as we followed you. Mr. Gal's confession will do the rest. But you were locked in the cellar. You couldn't be here. No, Gal, I'm not an optical illusion. I'm just the man with the bad news. Sergeant Matheson wants you for murder. Murder? Yes, murder. I'm afraid you're invited to keep a date with the state's executioner, with no apologies accepted. Nick, there are a couple of things about this case I haven't figured out yet. Go ahead, Patsy. Well, first, who killed Bixby? Gal did. Okay. Then who called you from Bixby's house? Pryor. What? Why did he do that? Gal said in his confession that Pryor was in love with Rita and wanted her for himself. She was apparently willing to help him double-cross Gal and then turn Gal over to the police for murder. Oh. So when Pryor phoned you, he was setting up the case. That's right. Mm-hmm. One of the police would close in on Gal quickly. That would increase the pressure and make the blackmail easy. Then, after he had all Gal's money, he could turn him in and go off with Rita. Well, I see. Now, one last thing. What? Since when have you been an autographed expert? I'm not. Then how did you know that King's Apology was a forgery the minute you looked at it? Oh, that simple. You were playing a hunch. No, I knew. What? It happens to be one of the odd bits of information I've picked up here and there. Well, how did you know? Well, the letter was dated 1780 and the envelope wore the royal arms of England. Uh-huh. The address on the envelope was in the same writing as the letter. Besides, the envelope matched the paper and looked just as old. Yeah, but that makes it sound genuine. Maybe so, but it proves it was a forgery. You see, Patsy, while the letter was dated 1780, envelopes were unknown before about 1830. Oh. Pryor made a mistake. Well, how about that? And all the while I thought you were guessing, Nick, I bowled to the master. Quite all right, Patsy. Your apology is accepted. Nick Carter, master detective, is presented each week at this time by the Cuddehy Packing Company. It is produced and directed by Jock McGregor and is copyrighted by Street and Smith Publications Incorporated. Charlotte Manson is featured as Patsy. Ed Latimer plays Matty. Today's script was written by Alfred Bester. Original music is played by Henry Silverne. This program is fictional and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is Michael Fitzmorris saying, when minutes count, use new post-war old Dutch cleansers. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.