 New post war old Dutch cleanser famous for chasing dirt presents Nick Carter famous for chasing crime Every week at this time two great themes 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 Why do you suppose he doesn't answer the door Nick? I don't know Patsy Maybe if we look through this window, we can see My Nick, what's the matter? What are you staring at? Look over there on the floor by the sofa Patsy. Huh? Why there's a man lying there. He's been shot in the forehead Confounded. He's the one man in the world who could have told us why a young man who had everything to live for should want to take his own life And now the case of the flowery farewell today's exciting adventure starring Lon Clark as Nick Carter Brought to you by new post war old Dutch cleanser as our story opens We find Nick seated at his desk in his office Intently studying the front page of the evening paper Patsy stands behind him reading over his shoulder Nick it says he was only 35 years old. Yes, Patsy was one of the richest industrialists in the world And he ends up by throwing himself in a lake. Oh, it just doesn't make sense me Why would a man like that take his own life? The suicide note he left in his car tells why it's reprinted here in the paper. Oh is it? I didn't see it. Yeah, right down here at the bottom of the column It is not the number of years a man has lived that enables him to say his life was justified It is the richness and fullness of his experience I say farewell to my own life with deep regret and yet I am convinced that it is better for a man to die in his prime quickly and painlessly Than to let old age destroy him by slow stages Well pretty flowery farewell, isn't it? Oh, I'll say imagine anyone sitting down and I'll get it Nick Carter speaking mr. Carter My name is Mrs. Holt. Mrs. Douglas Holt. Yes, Mrs. Holt I wonder whether you can come to my home this evening My husband and I would like to speak to you about the death of our very good friend Miles Kincaid Oh, yes, the man who committed suicide the man who died mr. Carter Whether or not he committed suicide is what we'd like you to find out So far Mrs. Holt, I'm afraid you haven't given me any really solid grounds for your suspicions that Kincaid didn't kill himself But mr. Carter Miles had everything in the world to live for was rich Famous and happy. Well according to his note. He wanted his life to end at the peak of his success Yes, but what about his call to me yesterday? He said he had plane reservations and was leaving for Florida very soon. My wife checked on that mr. Carter It's true. If we were going to commit suicide today, why would he make arrangements for a trip at a future date? Let me ask you this you're implying that Kincaid was murdered, but do you know of anyone who would have any reason to kill him? No, I don't how about you mr. Holt? No, I can't think of anyone and yet you both knew him well, didn't you? Oh, yes, in fact Well, Miles and I had quite a crush on each other a good many years ago That was before he introduced me to Douglas. He and I were partners at that time We had a little organization that we called inventors incorporated We broke up after a while, but we never lost touch with each other and in all these years He made no serious enemies. Of course. He might have without our knowing it I still doesn't add up to murder. Does it Nick? Oh, not to me then you won't investigate this murder force, mr. Carter Oh, I didn't say that mr. Oh, I wish you would mr. Carter. I just know something's wrong somewhere I've got a Well an intuition about it very well, Mrs. Holt. I have a lot of faith in a woman's intuition There has been a murder. I promise you I'll find it out before the night is over Did you talk to Sergeant Matheson on the phone Nick? Yes, and you should have heard the horse laugh He gave me when I suggested that Miles Kincaid might have been murdered. Oh, that must mean the handwriting experts are sure about the suicide note They are Maddie says there's absolutely no question about it. It wasn't a forgery Well, that pretty well saddles it then doesn't it? Hmm, perhaps But at least it won't hurt to take a look at Kincaid's home We're almost there Nick. It's the house at the end of this street. All right Maddie wasn't even going to hold an autopsy. Did you ask him to? I did and he finally agreed to it. Good All right Home do you expect to see here Nick? Kincaid's valid man named Harry Otis Oh, Holt says it was probably the last man to see Kincaid alive. Yeah, but do you think you're what? Was that Nick somebody morning someone in pain it came from the bushes by the side of the porch. Yeah, come on There is Nick lying in the bushes. All right. Give me a hand. Yeah, pull them out. Yeah, watch out for that breath. Okay That does it What happened to you? Who are you? Nick Carter private investigator? Who are you? Harry Otis. I'm I was Mr. Kincaid's valid sir. What happened to you? Someone rang the doorbell a few minutes ago. I I opened the door, but there was no one there So I stepped out in the porch That's all I remember. He must have been slugged from behind Nick. Yeah, come on Where we're going whoever slugged him may have wanted to get into the house could still be there. Okay, Nick If my often cave committed suicide Nick, what's this all about your guess is as good as mine, Patsy The front door is open don't make any noise No one in the living room What do you've gone upstairs? Nick it's someone moving around right behind that closed door over there. Let's drop in on him unexpectedly Found it the door locked. Yes. Yes. We'll have to announce ourselves after all Open up open this door Coming through the door I heard are you know, but it was awful close It's all quiet in and out Brady's giving us a slip that gunfire was probably intended to cover his getaway What are we going to do only one thing to do shoot the lock off stand back? Yeah There He must have gone out that open window. Yeah, no use going after him in the dark. Oh shucks. Oh You look at this room. It must have been Kincaid's study. It's a mess now Friend tore it apart every drawer every file you've been after I don't know. There is one thing I do know What's that Nick as of now? I'm definitely interested in how Miles Kincaid really died Why certainly mr. Carter has miles Kincaid's lawyer I'm happy to help you clear up any questions you have regarding his death Well first mr. Randolph who stood to benefit by his death Well, all of his wealth is to be divided among various foundations and charitable institutions. What you left no private bequest Whatsoever only a comparatively small one do Melvin Dudley Melvin Dudley. That's the publisher, isn't it? Yeah, sirs Miles had arranged with Dudley to publish his memoirs and he left a few thousand dollars to cover the cost Then Kincaid was writing his memoirs at the time of his death practically finished them though that fact wasn't commonly known I see But what about all his property holdings you must have had an enormous estate not anymore He'd sold everything in the past year converted it all into cash There's just one piece of land that he held on to oh, where's that over in the poorer section of town on Montrose Avenue That's to be sold at auction now that he's dead, but I don't understand Randolph Why on earth would he have disposed of all his possessions at the age of 35? You're almost thinking you he was going to die he did miss Bourne what he and his personal physician and I were the only ones Who were in on his secret what secret mr. Carter in six weeks miles Kincaid would have been dead of heart trouble Why are we going back to the office Nick? I want to call Mary and check on the autopsy. Oh Nick you promised hope before the night is over. You'd at least know whether or not Kincaid was murdered Do you think you will I don't know Well, they found out so far is that he had a better reason than we thought for doing away with himself Yeah, but that still doesn't explain the mysterious visitor at his house tonight and also it. Oh, that's our phone Nick. Oh, yeah here I got the key good Hurry Nick before they hang up They caught us speaking and Nick. This is my oh, yeah, I was just gonna call you what you find out Kincaid was drowned all right as long as we're full of water. What? That settles that now it doesn't make what do you mean as long as we're full of water right enough But the water was full of chlorine chlorine. Yeah, but there's no chlorine and lake water You're right Nick, but there's plenty of it in the city water system and miles Kincaid was drowned before he was thrown into the Lake right and that means murder Well, Nick knows at last that the wealthy young industrialist did not die by his own hand But why miles Kincaid left a suicide note or why anyone would want to kill a man who was doomed to die from heart trouble Within six weeks are questions that are still unanswered. We'll continue with this battling adventure in just a moment And now back to the case of the flowery farewell today's adventure with Nick Carter brought to you by new post war old Dutch cleanser As we pick up our story a half an hour has passed Nick and Patsy have joined Matty at the Kincaid home and guided by Kincaid's Ballot Harry Otis have just entered the murdered man's bedroom. I see the bed's been made Otis Did you do that today? No, sir. No one's been in here all day Well in that case Kincaid didn't sleep here last night Nick finally not Matty But his dressing gowns on the bed and it's one of his ties on the floor behind that chair Yeah Well as Kincaid fully dressed when your men found him Matty. Well, sure He had on a brown business suit a blue shirt and a green tie a green tie Yeah, no, no, no, you must be mistaken sergeant. Now. Don't tell me he had on a blue shirt and a green tie Sergeant mr. Kincaid would never have worn a combination like that. He was very particular about his clothes now listen I'm out of wait a minute wait a minute This all adds up, huh Otis take a look around Does this room seem just about the same to you as always? No, sir. It doesn't the bed's been pushed back farther than usual and the chairs are all against the wall Hey, I'm beginning to catch on Nick Otis Where were you when your employer retired last night? I had the evening off, sir I drew his bathwater for him then I went out when I got back. I assumed he was asleep. You drew his bath Oh, yes, sir. Well Matty at least we know how he died But you think he was killed here Nick? I do it was probably getting undressed when the murderer found him and they had a fight Yeah, that's why the furniture is out of place. Yeah, that would also account for the bruises on King Cade's face We figured they was from being hit against the rocks in the lake Yeah, well, it was probably knocked unconscious in this room Then the murderer took him into the bathroom and held his head underwater until he was dead Oh, how horrible and he dressed him again must have been a such a hurry He didn't see the tie King could have taken off so he grabbed one out of the closet without even noticing the color And then he carried him out shoved him in his own car and drove to the lake. Well, what about the suicide note? I've got a little theory about that too. What sort of theory? I'd rather not say until I've had a chance to confirm it But how are you going to do that, Nick? By dropping in on a publisher named Melvin Dudley and asking him a few questions I guess there's no one home Now there must be Patsy. I saw a light at the side of the house Well, let's go around the side porch and take a look in the room where the light is Okay, Nick Now you're wasting time Here Nick, we can look in through this French window Look at all those papers scattered all over the floor. Hey, looks like a cyclone's been through here Hey, Betty. What? Look over there beside the sofa. Beside what? Sofa. Holy smoke. Nick, there's a man line there. Smash the glass with your revolver. We've got to get in there I'll sit we have or I'd stand back and reach the latch Yeah, yeah, I got it Holy smoke Look at this guy, Nick. Yeah shot through the head. That's Melvin Dudley, Nick I've seen this picture in the paper. Well, you'll see it again tomorrow Patsy all over the front page. Hey, Maddie Yeah, Nick. Those papers on the floor Ever seen any just like them? What? Yeah, yeah, sure They're the same kind of paper the same handwriting as the suicide note what I figured and look Here's a typewritten letter among them to Melvin Dudley from Miles Kincaid. What's it say, Nick? I'm enclosing the manuscript of my memoirs. Everything is here except the forward which I'm working on now Well, there's the answer to your suicide note, Maddie. What do you mean? It was written by Miles Kincaid, but it wasn't intended as a suicide note And what was it, Nick? A page from the forward to his memoirs The murderer stole it last night from Kincaid's house and planted it in Kincaid's car as a suicide note No wonder it sounded so flowery. We're up against the smorn operator, Nick. Plenty smart, Maddie But he's made one big mistake. When he killed Melvin Dudley, he should have taken those memoirs with him Hello, Maddie. I've spent a very dull night reading Kincaid's memoirs. Oh, yeah? Find anything interesting in him? Yeah, but the most interesting part isn't there. I don't get you. Maddie, unless I'm all wrong These memoirs should hold the key to Kincaid's murder. How do you mean? Well, apparently when Kincaid learned he was going to die, he decided to leave behind him a document that would expose somebody Somebody he hated. And you think this somebody got wind of it and knocked Kincaid off so as to get hold of the document? I do, but he didn't get hold of it because Kincaid had already sent it to Dudley Uh-huh. The murderer realized that after he went back and searched Kincaid's study So he went to Dudley's house to get it and ended by killing Dudley. Right. But look, Nick Why didn't the murderer take the memoirs while he was there? He did. He what? At least he took that part of them, which incriminated him, as one whole section missing from the manuscript. Oh Got any idea what was in that section? Yes, Mary. I have. Good boy. When Douglas Holt and his wife put me on this case, Holt told me that he and Kincaid were once partners in an outfit called Inventors Incorporated. Inventors Incorporated. Yeah, but there's no mention of any such organization anywhere in the memoirs Hey, Nick! Then maybe the- I'm back, Nick. Oh, hello, Sergeant. Oh, hi, Patsy. Yeah, what did you find at the newspaper, Morg? Patsy? You got any dope on Kincaid background? Plenty, Nick. And about that company called Inventors Incorporated. Yeah. There's something funny about that. Funny? In what way? Well, it was a third partner. Third partner? Uh-huh. Who was he? A man named Peter Jarrett. Peter Jarrett? No mention of him in the memoirs, either. Hey, Nick, are you thinking this Jarrett guy might be our man? I don't know about that, Mary, but I am thinking that it's strange that Holt and his wife didn't tell me about this Peter Jarrett. I wonder why. I know I should have mentioned Peter Jarrett to you, Mr. Carter, but Frankly, I was sticking to an agreement that Miles Kincaid and I made long ago. What sort of agreement, Mr. Holt? The cover-up for Jarrett in spite of the raw deal he gave us. Oh, uh, he gave you a raw deal? He certainly did. Jarrett wrecked Inventors Incorporated by walking out on us one day, taking with him what little capital we had. And you never saw him again? Well, never. But I'm confident he's still alive. Nick, Peter Jarrett must be our man. He certainly had a motive for killing Kincaid. If Kincaid was planning to expose him in the memoirs he was writing. You say Miles was writing his memoirs, Mr. Carter? Yes, he was. They were practically complete when he died. Well, then it all adds up, doesn't it? Only a man like Jarrett who wanted to get hold of those memoirs before they were published would have had a motive for killing a man who was going to die anyway. Yeah, but the question is how can we get our hands unshared? Well, I can tell you where his wife lives. She ought to know where he's hiding out if anybody does. Oh, good. We'll go see her. I have an idea that we'll find Peter Jarrett. We'll have this case sewed up. Yeah, what do you want? You, Mrs. Jarrett? What's it to you? I'm Nick Carter, private investigator. A dick, huh? You get out of here. Not just a moment, Mrs. Jarrett. I said get out. Mrs. Jarrett, don't do that. Put that gun away, please. You come one step closer and I'll start shooting. So help me. I don't think you're going to shoot anywhere with that gun. I'll take it. And the next time you want to fire a gun, Mrs. Jarrett, remember to lift the safety catch. Nice going, Nick. Pretty darn smart, ain't you? Now, perhaps you better talk to us. I ain't talking to no cops. Why not? Because I'm sick of you guys. You've been hounding me for 10 years ever since Pete disappeared. You wouldn't know where your husband is, would you? Are you crazy? I wouldn't be living like this if I knew him with all that dough. Why did you see him last? I ain't seen him since the day he went to work and didn't come home. And where was your husband working the day he disappeared? He was working over at that house on Montrose Avenue. Montrose Avenue? What? Why, that's the one piece of property that Miles Pincade held on to after he sold everything else. Yeah. Well, thank you, Mrs. Jarrett. I'm very grateful to you. What? I didn't do enough fun for you. Oh, yes, you did. You just gave me the last piece of a very complicated jigsaw puzzle. Oh, Nick, what a horrible, musty old plate. It should be a musty. After all, nobody's been down in the cellar for over 10 years. Not since Miles Pincade and Douglas Holt closed up the business. They called inventors and corporated. But what do you expect to find here, Nick? A key to three murders, I hope. Three? But only two men were killed. Patsy, if my hunch is... Wait a minute. What do you see, Nick? Look where my flashlight's pointing. Notice anything about that slab of concrete over there? Uh, well, yes. It's a different color from the rest of the cellar floor. Right. Because it was laid at a different time. Let's see. It's about three feet wide and six feet long, isn't it? Nick, you think that's a grave? I do. I think a man has been buried under that slab of concrete for 10 long years. Patsy stares at the circle of light from Nick's flashlight. Who was buried in the musty cellar on Montrose Avenue? And what bearing his death has on the murders of Miles Pincade and Melvin Dudley? We'll find out in just a moment. And now for the conclusion of the case of the flowery farewell. Today's adventure with Nick Carter brought to you by new post-war old Dutch cleanser. Almost an hour has passed since Nick and Patsy discovered what Nick believes to be a grave in the cellar of the abandoned house on Montrose Avenue. They left the cellar for a time, but have now returned to it and are waiting impatiently. I have a sign of him yet, Nick. He'll be here all right. Can't afford not to come. I still don't understand why you're so sure he's the murderer. You will be for long. Yeah, but... Ah, hold it. Here he comes. You down there, Carter? Yes, we're here. Come on down. What's this all about anyway? Familiar territory to you, isn't it? It's been a long time since I was here. This is where Miles Pincade and I had our laboratory. Oh, Miles Pincade and Peter Jarrett. Don't forget Jarrett, Mr. Ho. That's right. By the way, have you got a line on his whereabouts yet? I've done better than that. I've found it. Well, where is he? Right where you and Miles Pincade buried him ten years ago. What are you talking about, Carter? I'm talking about murder. You and Pincade killed Jarrett and buried him down here. That's ridiculous. Probably did it so that you could steal an invention of his. And you spread the word that he'd run off with your funds. You must be out of your mind. I imagine you were nearly out of your mind when Melvin Dudley happened to mention to you that Pincade was writing his memoirs. Why should that worry me? Because you guessed that he was planning to expose your part in the murder. Something he couldn't have done during his lifetime without incriminating himself. What? When the police dig up Jarrett's body. They'll never dig it up. Because you won't be alive to tell him about it. Don't reach for your gun, Carter. I've got you both covered. I hope you made a bad mistake when you admitted that you knew Pincade was a dying man. That was a tip-off on you. Since you neglected to tell me that fact when you hired me. Well, I slipped up once. But I won't slip this time. I'll take you first, Carter. I'll hold. I'll take you first. What the... Drop your gun. Hold. I got right behind you. I'll kill you. You... Look out, Sergeant! Oh, my hand! Oh, nice shooting, Nick. You cut that gun right out of his hand. And you made a nice grammatic entrance, Maddie. Well, you set the stage for it, Nick, when you put me behind that packing box. Oh, I thought you'd never come out of there, Sergeant. Yeah, well, I'd have been out sooner, Patsy. Only my pants got caught in the nail. Oh, Sergeant! Yeah, and my new suit, too. Okay, Hope, let's get moving. Now you're hanging around this damn cellar when we've got a nice dry cell waiting for you down at headquarters. Then Jared thought he was buried in the cellar, Nick. Yes, Patsy, and the case is closed. Uh-uh, not quite, Carter. Not until you've told me how Hope found out that Pincade was dying of heart trouble. Well, according to the statement, Hope gave Maddie down at headquarters. Pincade told him. He did? Mm-hmm. When Hope went to inquire about the memoirs, Pincade bloated that he'd be dead in six weeks, and that everybody would know that Hope was a murderer. But why on earth did Pincade want to expose Hope? Patsy, don't you remember what Mrs. Hope told us? Hmm? That she used to go with Pincade? Well, Pincade never forgave Hope for taking her away from him. Oh, I get it. He couldn't get even with Hope until after he himself was dead. That's right. Yeah, but I can't understand why Hope brought you in on this case. He didn't, his wife did. What? You mean it was her idea to hire you? Sure. She knew nothing about the murder of Peter Jarrett, and she had no idea that Hope had killed Pincade. She just didn't believe that Pincade had killed himself. Mm-hmm, and when she wanted to call you, her husband had to agree with her so she wouldn't get suspicious of him. That's it. Oh, brother. When you walked into that house and took the case, it must have been life's darkest moment for Douglas Holt. The darkest so far, Patsy. The state is planning an even darker moment for him in the very near future. Can you tell us something about the adventure new post-war old Dutch cleanser is going to bring us next week, Nick? Next week, Mike, we're going to meet a man who has honest and upright for five years in order to build up to a fraud worth half a million dollars. Only his plan broke down because he put his fraud in an envelope. A fraud in an envelope? Well, that sounds exciting. What do you call this adventure? I call it The Case of the King's Apology. Friends, this is Nick Carter again, and I'd like to take this opportunity on behalf of the Cuddehee Packing Company to salute the 49th Annual Convention of the National Association of Retail Grocers which begins today in Atlantic City. The independent retail grocer is your good neighbor, bringing you fine foods from all parts of the nation and of the world. So let's all doff our hats to this very important businessman, the independent retail grocer. Nick Carter, Master Detective, is presented each week at this time by the Cuddehee 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 Luzco Field and Ken Pettis. 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 cleanser. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.