 The Adventures of Frank Race, starring Tom Collins. War changed many things, the face of the earth and the people on it. Before the war, Frank Race worked as an attorney. But he traded his law books for the cloak and dagger of the OSS. And when it was over, his former life was over too. Adventure had become his business. The Adventures of Frank Race. For the Adventure of the Roughnecks Will. Sometimes people come back to you through the years. People you used to know or work with. They come in unexpected phone calls or chance meetings on the street of some strange town. Some of them you want to see and some you hope you'll never see again. Jim Fallon was one of the former. We'd gone through law school together, played football together. And one night in 1943, we'd almost died together in a parachute jump behind Rommel's lines. So when Mark Donovan relayed Jim's call to me, I told him to ignore the red lights. I was full of the excitement that always comes from the thought of seeing an old friend or an old flame. There's a lay on Office Suite 401 to 416. And look at the names on that door, would you? Fallon, Forster, Peabody, Morton, and La Roche. The tiniest at law. Yes, Jim Fallon's come a long way, Mark. That guy has to come a long way when he spends every day walking through 16 offices. Oh, let's go in. No, no, no. Not in there. He said you should come through the door, Mark, 411. Ignoring that it is Mark Private. Hmm, sounds top secret. Right here. Here's 411. Hello, Jim. Praise. Oh, man, it's good to see you. You know, Mark Donovan. We spoke on the phone. How are you? Hi. I understand you're having a little trouble, Jim. You're going to erase this isn't little. You can brush any doubts out of your mind by mentioning the name of my problem. Martin Bayard Cullen. That could be serious. What about that name sounds familiar? Who is he, right? Martin Bayard Cullen's an old man who avoids publicity. You can't avoid it altogether, though. It's hard to avoid it if you happen to be one of the ten richest men in the world. Holy cow. We handle his legal business, race. Since this morning, though, I've been wishing we didn't. He's kicking up his heels, huh? No. Somebody broke into this office last night. They opened Cullen's will. I want you to read the will, race. He wrote it himself. And it's an invitation to murder. Is this it? Yes. Oh, brief, isn't it? One paragraph. One paragraph, written with TNT. Go ahead, read it. It is my wish that my entire fortune pass into the hands of only one person. However, I list here the four persons who have been closest to me with the provision that the entire estate go to the last one surviving. Oh, brother. You know the four people named here, Jim? Yes, two of the McGrown daughters of his wife by a former marriage. Cullen never had any children. Well, they must be Joan and Leonor Richards. Yes. And there's Carrie Bragg. She's been Cullen's nurse for the past ten years. And the man, Bill Forsythe, is Cullen's secretary. Hmm. And all any one of them has to do to become fabulously wealthy is murder the other three. That kind of money has turned some pretty nice people into murderers, race. Yes, it has. Tell me, does Cullen know his will has been opened? Yes. And formed him immediately. I asked him to change the will at once and let it be known that it has been changed. But he won't do it, huh? Nope. And he told me not to call an investigator. But I can't hold still for that. I'd like to have a talk with Cullen. Will you clear a meeting? I'll try. I'll do it while you're driving up to his place. The estate is called Grey Acres. It's in Larchmont. Grey Acres was appropriately named. The house had the grim aspects of a medieval castle. And even the grass and trees seemed colorless and drab, despite the evidence of care. Martin Baird Cullen matched the general atmosphere. Only his large, dark eyes glittered through a shriveled and pasty skin as he lay propped up by pillows. But when he spoke, his voice belied his 90 years. My orders to Fallon were quite precise. I want no investigation. I'll let you in so I can tell you that. Now get out. I'm not here on your behalf, Mr. Cullen. I just wanted to see what kind of a man it is who uses his fortune to try to influence murder. Since I'd be the first to be murdered if it does happen, it's still my affair. Time for your medicine, Mr. Cullen. This is one of my ears, Race. Or shall we say that Miss Bragg is a candidate? She doesn't seem to be out murdering anybody, but she is giving me medicine to drink. Someday it may not be exactly what the doctor ordered. Isn't that right, Miss Bragg? That's right, Mr. Cullen. She agrees with me, Race. See? Everybody agrees with an old man. Especially when he has millions, they may get their claws on. Come on, Mark. Let's get out of here. Yeah. The medicine ain't the only thing that smells in this church. Now, there's a sweet old guy. Will you tell me how to have that prune with the lemon placed now to get the beer, Richard? He started out as a rough neck on a drilling crew, oil wildcat. Now he's loaded. Oil and steel, bombs, stocks, cattle. You name it, he's got it. You seem pretty well informed about the old man, Race. Oh, hello, Forsythe. How'd the interview go? Not too well. Do you warn me? Look, Forsythe, you're his secretary. Anybody been especially snoopy lately? Only me, frankly. I have my finger on all of the old man's affairs. You know about the will? I've always known about the will. You see, Race, I typed it. You know, Race, that old guy must be tired of living. And at his age, I can understand him. At his age, a man can be tired of a lot of things, Marcus. But he can also be very determined. Like about what? About not wanting things investigated. There has been a blue convertible perch down our tails as we left the estate. Well, I will lose it, but quick. No, let's play it the other way. Slow down, come to a stop at that billboard sign. All right? All right, get out and pretend to be checking the tires. I'll get you. Here comes the car. It's slowing down. It's better stop, though. Duck, Race, duck! Come on, Mark, behind the sign. They're backing up. Keep low. Now you must to wing them. The car got out of control. It's hurt. Not badly. Let's follow him. Can't. Look, Nick wanted the tires on my heap. Oh, that's too bad. It's too dark to get the license number. I got all the numbers I need. They say that somebody doesn't want us around. Did you get a look at the driver? No, I just fired at the hood. Now let's get that tire changed to be another call. On who? On John and Leona Richards, Cullen's granddaughters. Oh, bro. If the things which live here are related to that old money bag, I will bet you we are about to come face to face with a couple of pigs. Remember, Marcus, they're only related by marriage. Yes? My name is Frank Race. I'm an investigator working for your grandfather's attorney. Oh, won't you come in? I'm Leona Richards. The hallway was dim, and so was the room. But not so dim that you couldn't see the large eyes. Eyes that could reflect hurt easily. And they looked as though they made a habit of it. Except for that, her face was plain. But something about her said, if I ever come into your arms, you won't want to let me go. I'd offer you a drink or something, Mr. Race, but, well, the household budget won't stretch that far. Well, I could run down and pick up a friend. I never mind, Mary. If my grandfather sent you to bring me back to Grey Acres, Mr. Race, I won't leave my sister. Saying that doesn't make you happy. I didn't know you'd live to Grey. We moved out three months ago. Why? Because my sister... Because her sister had reasons. And the reasons are nobody's business but mine. Another girl stood in the doorway to the bedroom. She looked like Leona, and only she was beautiful. Her eyes were deep and dark. But hard as polished onyx. But a few seconds before I realized that her left arm was hung in a sling. This is Mr. Race. I heard everything. What do you want? Your grandfather wrote a will, and some eager beaver opened it. A little ahead of schedule. Oh, let me see that one. In terms of the will, it might place your life in danger. Your life and your sister's. Suppose you let me worry about that. No, but it doesn't end there. This particular will might also work in reverse and make you the menace. Sounds like Grandpa's up to his old divide and conquer tricks. Don't say things about him, John, please. I know you're fond of him, but I'm not. Do either of you own a blue convertible? Well, yes, I do. She owns it, and I use it. I see. Now tell me, why the sling? What happened to your arm? I don't think my answer is going to surprise you, Mr. Race. Somebody shot me. Look, Race, what for we going back to that mausoleum? I think it might be wise to hang around gray acres for a while. You think that John Rich's dame was the one who was using his petarget practice? Yeah, slow down, Marcus. The gate to gray acres up ahead. There's more than the gate there, Race. There's a guy with a shotgun black on the road. You stay in the car. I'll talk to him. Put your hands up there. There up. Who are you? What do you want? My name's Race. I'm working for Mr. Cullen's attorneys. Oh, yeah. Calm, Blair. Old man Cullen hired me to guard property. Cullen hired you? Yeah. I used to work for him before, you know. Never there's trouble in sentence for black. Well, do you have orders not to let me through this gate? Well, I use my own judgment. Cullen's got a lot of faith in my judgment. Well, do I pass or do I make camp out here on the road? Who is it, Blair? Oh, Mr. Forsythe. It's that investigating fellow. Hello, Race. I thought I'd come back just in case. Yes, I had a hunch, you would. I have a room prepared for you and your friend. You Latin man, Mr. Forsythe? Have any objections, Blair? Me? Why should I? I was just wondering. That's all. I'll drive up with you, Race. There's space for your car in the garage. I think you'll be comfortable in here. Holy smokes. Alley can would be comfortable in this joint. Even one out reader. What a room. Before you go, Forsythe, I've got a question. Fire away. Did Joan Richards hear this afternoon when I was here? No, no, she wasn't. But Leona was. Driving her blue convertible? Oh, yes. It was a present from her grandfather last Christmas. A matter of fact, I got one too, Race. And so did Mrs. Bragg, the nurse. You mean there were three of them? That's right. Three of them. And that? All identical. I thought about it. And after we turned in, I dreamed about it. Leona had been here. Joan was the one who had been shot. I twisted the fit for him, seemed to doze off finally. And then... Holy cow. Holy cow. Race, what was that? What was that? Somebody screamed. Come on. Where's the light switch? I'll get it. Martin Bayard Cullen. Leigh Propton Pillars. His staring eyes fixed right on us. His withered old hands, motionless against the white canopy. It wasn't the stare of death, though. His glittering eyes turned to the far side of the bed. I moved around to see what he was staring at. I needed only one look. She was on the floor in a crumpled heap. Her neck very neatly broken. Nurse Kerry Bragg wasn't going to inherit anything. She was dead. We'll return to the Adventures of Frank Race in just about one minute. We'll go back to the Adventures of Frank Race. The murder of Nurse Kerry Bragg narrowed the field of Cullen's potential heirs to three. Leona and Joan Richards and Bill Forsythe met the two more of them had to die before there was any payoff. I sent Mark into town to get a few answers from Jim Fallon at his law office. And I started for a stroll around the grounds when... I don't tell him where the shot had come from. I dived behind the heads, flushing some birds. I caught a crisp of smoke coming from a clump of trees near the ivy-covered wall. Got off a wild shot and returned. You should know you started it. That you, Race? Yes, but it wasn't Gregory Frank. Are you crazy, man? What are you shooting at me for? I wasn't shooting at you until you tried to pick me off of that rifle. Come out of those trees with your hands up. Man, I wasn't shooting at you. You clipped the top of the heads as soon as I dove into it. Put the gun over my head. What makes you so hot about blue jays, Blam? Oh, they're getting the chicken coops. Suck the eggs dry, you know. There aren't any chicken coops here. Well, I guess I just got the habit from down the hole. Maybe yes, maybe no. I think you were trying to scare me, Blam. Now, why would I want to do a thing like that? I don't know. But whether it's mere, a bunch of innocent birds you're after, take a tip. Make your first shot count the next time you start playing this game. Because next time, I won't miss. Mark came back from Fowlin's office with information that turned out a few lights. His latest will of Cullins had been drawn up three months before and replaced a more sane, reasonable request that had been properly drawn by the attorneys. The contents of the first will told me it was time to have another chat with Leona and Joan Richards. Please believe me, Mr. Race. I knew nothing at all of my grandfather's will. Either the first one or the new one that's causing all the trouble. His original will left you one-third of his state and the rest was to go to charity. That doesn't surprise me, Mr. Race. Leona's his favorite. Then you should be interested in the contents of the new will. Because they call for action, not orders. You're wasting your time, Mr. Race. I know the contents of the new will have to break into Fowlin's office to learn them. I'm going out. Leona likes to answer some questions, but I don't. Oh, Race, you're so stubborn. Suppose something happens to her. Hey, hey, hey, this is no time to break up, baby. I'm sorry. I'm so nervous and upset. Here, here, let me use my attitude. Maybe we can get those eyes pretty again. Do you remember that practice you'll be murdering next time around? You don't believe me, do you? Should I? It's true. I've never danced. I've never had a date and I'm 24. Now go ahead and laugh at me. What do you mean, Mike? I'm not laughing. Grandfather never thought that any man was good enough for us. That's why Jones is angry with him. That's why we love great acres after he found out that you... Go ahead. I can't. What did your grandfather find out about Jones? It may be important. I can't tell you. I can't. That's all. All right, baby. It's your secret and you can keep it. I hope it doesn't cost you your life. What time have you got back? Where have you been? I've been walking around town thinking... About a dame judging by the look on your kisser. And I'll bet it's at Leon and Richard's, too. Your brother, that's bad. If you mean one of the girls killed Carrie Bragg, you're way off base, Marcus. They didn't do it. Oh, brother, you've got so many stars in your eyes, you can't see them all. The old man's angry with them. They might change their will in the spur of the moment and change it within an hour. They know that. All right, so what? So if either of them intended to latch onto the whole fortune, they'd have killed Cullen first to make sure the will isn't changed. Well, wait a minute. That makes sense. With that Bragg dame dead, that only leaves one guy. Yes. At least Bill Forsythe, Cullen's secretary. Let's go in and have a talk with him. Okay. Which is his room? This is the one he came out of last night. Forsythe! Maybe he's in the library. That's where he works in. We'll see later. Meanwhile, let me take a look around in here. Hey, what are we looking for? I don't really know, Marcus. You go through that bureau and I'll take the writing desk here. Okay. Well, I need person Bill Forsythe. Everything in order. Yeah. Hey, he wears nylon shorts, too. Look, imagine many things. Never mind that. Keep going. You may come in. All right. There's ain't to be anything but closet in here. I guess it... Hey, look at this. What is it? A prime picture of John Richards in a bed and suit. That babe should wear tight addresses. This I never know. Hmm. Now, look at the inscription down on the corner, huh? Oh, I didn't notice, sir. No, you wouldn't. To Bill with all my love. Now and forever, John. Oh, wait a minute. There's something else under the guy's pajamas. It's not for the letters. Hey, listen to this. Darling, Miss Bragg says the doctor gave grandfather a sedative. I can meet you tonight, usual place. Is it signed? Hmm. It must be in John. Put everything back. But does it mean something? It means plenty. Old man Cullum found out about John and Bill Forsythe. And he knows that Kerry Bragg was helping them. So he set up the will to start them knocking each other off? I'm afraid that's it. Are you going to look around anymore? I'm just in the closet. I want to find out if Forsythe has any weapons hidden around. You take that one, I'll take this one. Brace. Brace, come here. What is it? Oh, brother. It's Forsythe. He's been hanged. For the next few hours, the number of police on the grounds at Grey Acres were almost equal to the blades of grass. I cleared permission and took Mark into town for a visit to the morgue. Only it was a newspaper morgue. Look, Chum, look, I've read the newspapers for the past 10 years and my thumb is worn out turning to pages. Keep going. All right, all right. But what are you looking for? Just the item's Deadline Texas. If it comes up, you'll know it. Ah, nothing ever happens in Texas except an occasional murder like this one, eh? What is it? Ah, old stuff. Half an eight years ago. Any oil fields. A wild cat are killed in a gunfight by a guy named... Holy cow, a guy named Blair. Tom Blair. That's it, baby. Give it to me. Here, look. A witness said Blair did the shooting and couldn't identify him before the grand jury. No indictment. Yeah, but how could he not recognize a man he know? He must have been bought off. Look, look at this. The murdered man had refused to sell cullin and oilies and Blair was in charge of cullin's drilling operations. Come on. We've got to get back to Grey's Acres fast. All right, you're so late up. There's Blair and one of the mates. They're carrying somebody. Hurry. Hey, get me a hand here. Yes, Joan Richards are carrying. Yeah, look, Mark. Grab the car and get out of here. I'm finally going to Richard and stick to her. Bring her back here. Right. Here, Blair, let me grab her. What happened? My farm. She's in the garage at the motor running. I passed by a smelly car. All right. Put her down here. I'm afraid she's dead, Rich. Yes, I'm afraid she is. Oh, poor Matt, Monsieur John. Does cullin know about this? Well, how could he know, man? We just haul her out this minute. I think I'll go tell him. Sure, we'll bust her down. Yes, he sure will. Cullin seemed never to sleep. His eyes burned at me as I came into the room. There was a little color in his cheeks. He made no effort to conceal the victory he was tasting. If I had things figured right, though, I had one ace. The fifth ace in the deck. What a joke I have. Were there a race? There has been an accident, Cullin. Yes. People always bring me things on accident, Trace. Usually things that happen are planned to happen. Didn't anybody ever tell you that? One of your granddaughters is dead, Cullin. This time I know it was an accident. Mistake. Because the wrong girl got killed. The wrong girl? Yes. It wasn't Joan, Cullin. Leona is dead. His eyes went wild when the veins at the side of his neck thickened and a flood of red spread across his cheeks. He jeweled at the corner of his mouth and then he screamed, Breah! Breah! Leona! I told you not to hurt Leona. You were supposed to kill Joan and the others. Shut up, you old fool. That's all I wanted, Cullin. He did kill Joan. Leona's safe. Leona, Leona. I'm afraid you've been too smart, Ray. He moved toward me. A drilling rough neck, squat and solid. I fought tough men, but not as tough as this one. His hands were as hard as a diamond drill. Get off me. I had to keep him off me. No matter how hard I hit him, he kept closing in. I finally got his hands on my throat. Now, Ray, I'm all killed. You struggled and pressed it, but it was no good. Suddenly, I got tired and blacked out. Across the centuries and out of time and space, I came alive again. I didn't know whether I was in this world or the next because the dead eyes of Martin Bayard Cullin stared down at me from where he had snubbed across the edge of the bed and seized with a final heart attack. But then I heard a welcome voice that belonged to the living. Come on, come on. You ain't dead. Wake up, will you? Hiya, Mark. Hi. What a skull that Blair has got. Look, I bent me and wrench when I whacked him with it. Yeah. You couldn't have gone all the way back into town and come back in time. No, no, no, no. You see, I got the thinking. I turned around. See, I figured the Blair was the heavy, so how could Leone get hurt if he was here? I figured the old man was used in the world to cover his own dirty work. You're very astute reasoning, Mark. Yeah, I thought so. I called the cops while he was out, and Leone called here. I told her the whole story, and she wants to see you. Oh, that's good, Mark. It's very good. Because I want to see her, too. She'll be one of the richest girls in the world when Cullen's will goes to promen. And her education's been woefully neglected. She'll have to be taught how to protect herself. And you're going to teach her how? Why, it's going to be shooting blue dredge, boy. Adventures of Frank Brace, starring Tom Cullen's with Tony Barrett as Mark Donovan comes to you from Hollywood. Others heard in tonight's cast were Gloria Blondel, Frank Lovejoy, Michael Ann Barrett, and Wilms Herbert. This series is written and directed by Buckley Angel and Joel Murkart. The music is composed and played by Ivan Dittmarz. Be sure to be with us again at this same time next week for another dramatic chapter in the Adventures of Frank Brace. Art Gilmore speaking. This is a Brucell's production.