 Mr. District Attorney, starring David Bryan. Mr. District Attorney, champion of the people, defender of truth, guardian of our fundamental rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And it shall be my duty as district attorney, not only to prosecute to the limit of the law, all persons accused of crimes perpetrated within this county, but to defend with equal vigor the rights and privileges of all its citizens. This is David Bryan. In a moment we'll bring you another case from the files of Mr. District Attorney, the first a word from our sponsor. And now here is our star, David Bryan as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. A district attorney's dream is to find an eyewitness to the commission of a crime, but sometimes the dream can turn out to be a nightmare that helps the criminal instead of exposing him. This case started on a Friday morning, just a few minutes before 9 a.m. All right, Kearney, let's go over it once more. We've been over it 20 times, Fallon. Let's get it done. I ain't taking a chance on you making any mistakes. I ain't making no mistakes. You think I want to go back to that pen again? Look, I've been casing this place ever since I got out. You're sure there's no guard? Guard. In a check cash and joint, nobody but the two tellers in the crummy alarm system. If either of them moves for an alarm, start blasting. All right. Hey, how are we going to hide out afterwards? Leave that to me. I'm working on a railroad section gang laying new tracks. It's 30 miles out of town and they're shorthanded. I can get the gang boss to take you on. That's good, Fallon. Nobody's going to expect to find two guys with 15 grand driving spikes in a railroad. Oh, hey. Now, McCarr is pulling away now, Fallon. Good. Now, the boys inside will have enough money to cash out check. Park right in front of the place and leave it running. Right. Give me cover while I cash the check. Yeah. Bet they never cashed a check like that one before. Shut up. I'd like to cash this. Just read it, mister, and do like it says. Don't even open your mouth. And don't stare at us. You heard him. You got five seconds, mister. Put the money in the... Hey, he stepped on the alarm. That's the last thing you'd ever step on. I'm scared of him already. He won't hurt us any. Look out. The car's coming out of that side street. Let him look out. You're going to hit. Gotta get out. Gotta get away. Hey, hey, Brad. It's come, mister. Your head's cut by the back. Get away from me. Why? It's pretty bad. Yeah. Which one was the bandit car? The cool. Who was in the sedan? Man and a five-year-old boy. Both killed. They take the bodies to General Hospital? Yeah. Oh, one of the stick-up men was killed, too. Any trace of the other one? No. I've got squads doing a house-to-house on the whole area, though. Who's the registered owner of the coop? No, no, yet. He's being checked. Probably stolen. Yeah, probably. Let's have a look at it. He's got on both seats, steering wheel, too. The driver must have gotten a cut on his head or his hand. He had a gash in his scalp. Uh-huh. Hit the windshield on this side. A couple of hairs stuck to the jagged edge. Don Brown. Something for the lab to work on. The corner druggist had a good look at him, saw the whole thing from the store, ran out to help, almost got shot for his trouble. Is he around? Yeah, right over there. Oh, Mr. Reba, this big attorney wants to talk to you. All right, let him through, man. Let him through. Well, too bad there weren't this many police around when this happened. Well, it's a big city, Mr. Reba, aren't they? You're their best. Well, maybe you'd like to help. I'm sorry, Mr. Garrett. Child had got killed to stop in the store. Father'd give him a penny for bubble gum. I understand how you feel. I think it tells me you saw the driver of the coupe. As close as I'm seeing you. Oh, excuse me, Chief. That sounds like the shortwave on my car radio. Go ahead. Can you give me a description of the man you saw, Mr. Reba? Uh, six feet tall, maybe, built solid, dressed like a laborer. Go ahead. Of course, that could fit a thousand men, but this one had a couple of gold teeth right in the middle of his mouth. Gold teeth, huh? Well, that's very interesting. Anything else? Nothing outstanding except for a bad cut on his head. Hold it up. I told your assistant the whole thing. Was the cut bad enough to need stitching? Well, we'll have to see a doctor. Well, that was when we caught on the coupe, Chief. We stole it on the west side during the night early this morning. Well, when was it reported? Before or after this happened? Well, just about the same time, Chief, but the owner is home. He's been there since last night. His story checks out. Well, we'd better get down to the general hospital. Well, thanks, Mr. Reba. He may be calling upon you again for an identification. You can get me at the store anytime. We're going my car. We'll leave yours here. One of the men can drive it in. Okay. The lab boys are on their way out to cut the wrecks in. Go over them for fingerprints. Not that we can expect much. The prints on a car are pretty smooth. Yes, and even if we do get a clear set, we've still got to find the man who can match them. This body is the dead hold-up, man. Lift the sheet if you want. Any identification on him yet? His prints have been taken. They might lead to something. The medical examiner's report has his blood type and other data. I'd rather have the blood type of the man who got away. You instruct the lab to bring in pieces of the windshield where he cut himself? Yeah. They'll call us on it. Doctor, say anything about the teller they shot during the hold-up? He's still alive, but in a coma. He's up on the third floor. You want to go up? Might as well while we're waiting for the reports. The doc doesn't think he's going to live. He may come around long enough to tell us something. Look, Chief, before we go up there, you want to see the man or the child who was in the sedan? They're right in the next room on the way to the elevator. All right. Not that they can help us much. That's the child's mother. Saw her at the accident. Happened only a block from her home. Did you come to see my boy and my husband? Did you know them? No. Maybe you ought to go home for a while, ma'am. Why should I go home? There's nobody there now. He wanted his daddy to be the one to take him to school. He was just being registered. His first date. Five years old. You must try not to think about it. Nothing we can do to help a chief. I know. Middle-Evans, which he cries herself out. A guy that's responsible for that order. I know, I know. The elevators are over here. Car coming down now. We live in the first room there. Here's the doc now. We're just coming up the seat. I'm afraid you're too late, Dr. Garrett. Is that the cashier? Yes, he just died. If you want to come back with me, your lab is bringing in some glass fragments for blood analysis. Yes. Is he saying anything before he died, doctor? Just a few words. A man who shot him had gold teeth. Sorry to keep you so long, Mr. Garrett, but it isn't as easy to get a type when the blood is dried. We understand. I'll only take a second to make a comparison under the microscope now. Did you kill that overhead light for me, Huntington? No, no, no. Sure thing, doc. I'll get the focus now. That does it all right. You got it? Mm-hmm. The man you're looking for is an A-B type. Is that common? No, pretty rare, as a matter of fact. About one in... No, excuse me. Hello, Dr. Swiss speaking. This is Mr. Garrett's office. Doctor, is he there? Yes, just a minute. Uh, for you, Mr. Garrett, your office. Well, thanks. Here's Ms. Miller. Mr. Garrett, some reports just came in from the lab, the fingerprint crew. Now what is it? The dead bandit has been identified as John Carney, a known criminal. Served time in several states for armed robbery. No known associates since leaving the penitentiary three months ago. No, that doesn't help us. What about the prints on the car? Anything? All the clear prints belong to the owner of the car with one exception. Well, what was that? A full right thumb impression on the cap of the gas tank. Has it been checked on? Yes, sir. We had nothing in the criminal file, so we ran it through to Washington by wire photo. We just got the answer. An identification through Army records. A man named Robert Traumer. Robert Traumer, any location? He owns the Midtown service station on Center Street. You want to pick up on him? No, no. Harrington and I will handle it right away. Thanks. Well, what is it, Chief? Looks like we're not going to need that analysis after all, Doctor. I think we found our man. Good. Where? Runs a gas station. Come on, Harrington. Let's pick him up. Well, wait. He's just finished a little job. They're not worried about your hands as long as we can see them. Hey! Hey, what's the idea? What are you frisking me for? Looking for a gun that made a hole in a car. Turn around so we can get a better look at you. You're mine if I dry my hands. Go ahead. Where were you this morning at 9 o'clock? I was right here working. Why? You sure you weren't near the Apex check cashing service at Third and Grand on the south side? Of course I wasn't. Step over this way. Under the light. Are you going to tell me what this is all about? Let's see your smile. What? You hate him. You hate him. Smile. Just smile, mister. That's all. So you were here at 9 o'clock, huh? I told you. Those gold teeth say you weren't. What kind of a check? The cashier you shot is dead, Trauma. So is a five-year-old boy and his father and your partner, John Conny. I don't know what you guys are talking about. Don't you? Maybe the cut on your head will make you remember. Cut on my head? The cut you got when the car's crashed. Take that grease cap off. Let's have a look at it. Sure, mister. I'll let you look. Well, my cap's off. You see any cut, either of you? No. No, Trauma, we don't. Cheaper. The druggist Reba said he had a deep gash. I don't know what you're looking for, mister, but if the guy has a gash in his scalp, it's not going to happen again, because it ain't me. This is David Bryan. Before we continue with Mr. District Attorney in the case of the man with gold teeth, here is an important message from our sponsor. And now back to David Bryan, starring as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. Three innocent people had been killed in a hold-up attempt in getaway. One of the bandits was dead, but the other was still at large. I witnessed a swore that the man we sought had a deep gash in his scalp. We found a man with gold teeth, but there was no mark of an accident on him. Harrington and I took him to the doctor's office at General Hospital. What's he going to do with that needle? Just take your blood type, unless you object. That's your legal right. Why should I object? I haven't done anything. All right, let me have your hand. Just going to prick your finger a little. Go ahead. Ouch! How long will it take, doctor? Just a few seconds with a fresh specimen. I'll answer as soon as the smear's better. The blood type we're checking you for is a pretty rare one, from her. AB. I told you before, my blood is typo. I know from giving it to the Red Cross. No, that's true. It eliminates proud of your worries. My assistant is bringing a druggist named Rebar over here. Rebar saw the killer close up. He didn't see me. Got it? Yes, doctor. There it is. Type AB? No. He said... I told you, didn't I? I never lied. Come in. Oh, chief, I got Rebar out here. How about it, trauma? Bring him in. I've got nothing to hide. Okay, honey. All right, come on in, Mr. Rebar. Hello, Mr. Garrett. Mr. Rebar, I'd like you to take a look at this man. Take a good look, and then tell me if you've ever seen him before. How about it, Mr. Rebar? Mr. Garrett, I'm not sure. After all, the man that got out of the car had a gun in his hand and blood all over his face. All I remember for sure is the gold teeth. I don't want you to identify him unless you're certain beyond the shadow of a doubt. Now, can you make a positive identification? No, sir, I can't. All right, Mr. Rebar. Thank you. You can go. I'm sorry. I... Don't be. You've done the right thing. Well, my blood's the wrong type. I got no cut, and he couldn't identify me. How about letting me go now? There's still the matter of a fingerprint that is yours, Trummer. I want you to come one more place with us, voluntarily. Where? Police garage. The wrecks have been towed in there. I want you to see them. Will you come? You're not trying to pin this on me, are you? What do you think? I'm with you. Let's go. Recognize this car, Trummer? I see a dozen black coops like this every day. You've seen this one all right. Your thumbprint proves that. I hear the dusting powder on the tank cap. So I gassed this car at my station maybe. That's how I make... Hey, wait a minute. Let me see that cap. Don't touch it now. I'll handle it. Well, Trummer? I saw a tank cap like that this morning. You sure? Oh, yeah. A big guy in a black coop could have been this car. Maybe I should have known there was something fishy about that guy, though. Why? Because he didn't have any money to pay for the gas. Didn't tell me until I filled her up, either. She was almost bone-dry. You mean you let him waltz off without paying you? Well, what could I do? Siphon it out? I made him leave something for security, though. What? Well, a hunting knife and sheath he had on his belt. Worth maybe eight or nine bucks new. Did he come back to redeem it? No, no. I got it locked in my tool chest back at the station. We ought to have a look at it, chief. We will, as soon as I call the office. Good to turn his office. Garret, Miss Miller. Anything come in on that scalp wound yet? No, sir. We're still checking doctors. The whole telephone and radio division's on it. That cut was deep. It'll mean treatment sooner or later. Ask other counties to cooperate and spread the search. Yes, sir. I'll be at Trommer's, the midtown service station. Yes, sir. Let's go. Would you know that man if you saw him again in Trommer? Well, one customer's face looks like another, but I'd remember him. Do you have gold teeth like you? That's something I can't tell you. He was chewing a cut of tobacco, talking through it. Tobacco, huh? Not many men chew tobacco anymore. Unless... Yeah, unless what, chief? Unless they're doing a kind of work that keeps their hands too busy for smoking. There it is, the knife, just like he left it. Mmm. Fresh honed and clean as a whistle, chief. Why would anybody be carrying a hunting knife in the city? More likely to be somebody who worked out doors away from town. Let me see that sheath. Here. Now, look at this. Hey, initials burned in the leather. B-F. Too bad he didn't burn in the full name. Midtown service. Oh, yeah, hold on. It's for you, Mr. Garrett, in your office. Hello, Miss Miller. Hello, Mr. Garrett. We just got a report. It doesn't seem to be anything, but I thought I'd better call you. Well, what is it? A man answering the general description of the one you're looking for had 12 stitches taken in his scalpelate this afternoon. Well... Kolderville, about 30 miles upstate. Did you speak to the doctor? Yes, sir. Kolderville Hospital Emergency Room, but he said it was a compensation case. Well, what kind of a compensation case? He said the patient was a workman for the railroad section gang repairing track up in that area. Well, how'd they get hurt? Driving spikes. He said one flew up and hit him. But the man answers our general description. Yes, sir, except for one thing. What? The doctor said he didn't have gold teeth. I see. Well... I thought I'd better call you anyhow. Thanks, keep working on it. I will. Bye. Goodbye. Oh, Miss Miller. Yes? Did the doctor give you the man's name? Yes, sir. It was Fallon. Bud Fallon. Just a minute. Give me that knife she's handed. Hang on. Thanks. Miss Miller, you did say Bud Fallon, didn't you? B as in boy, F as in flag. That's right, Mr. Garrett. And I think we've got our man. But his teeth aren't gold. I've got an idea about that, too. Listen, here's what I want you to do. Harrington and I are leaving for Cotaville immediately. I want you to call that Dr. Beck. Yes, sir? Someone to dig out the swabs used in treating that wound on Fallon's scalp. If you can find the right ones, I want a blood analysis made. We'll pick it up when we get there. Yes, sir. Right away. Goodbye. Thanks, Trammer. Come on, Harrington. Is the guy we want in Cotaville, Chief? In and or near it. He's working on a railroad section gang. That's bits which you said about the knife. Guy waking up doors. Chewing tobacco, too. A man with a sledgehammer in his hands doesn't have much time for smoking. But what about the gold teeth? He hasn't got gold teeth. Never did have. It was in the skies he dreamed up when he stopped at Trammer's for gas. Trammer's teeth caught his attention and gave him an idea. A mighty good one, too. It almost saved his neck. But how? How did he do it? That's the one thing we've got to find out. It'll be dark when we get to Cotaville. Not as dark as Fallon like it to be. Yeah. They're the railroad work cars now. Yeah. Section boss said Fallon bunks on the next to the last one. Dark. The boost isn't. It's not a user for a recreation car. Hard games, things like that. Anyone try their first? No, too many men in there. Somebody might get hurt. We're waiting this bunk car. Yeah, it should be this one. Yeah. Watch out. Big step up. Yeah, I see it. Got your flashlight? Yeah. Let's have a look around. Sleeps about a dozen. I wonder which bunkers Fallon's. I don't know. Throw the light over here. What? Here on the bunk post. B.F. Likes to put his initials on everything, don't he? This must be his foot locker. It ain't locked. No. Gun in there? No, he'll have it on him. Look at this, though. What are they? Couple of plugs of chewing tobacco. Wrapped in gold foil. Sure. He tore off a piece of this gold foil after he saw trauma. Put it over his front teeth like this. I wonder we got a description of the way we did. One thing he couldn't change was the A-B type of blood, though. What do we do now? Just sit. Wait. That's enough for me tonight. An ideal me, uh, ever did. It deserves such lousy luck. That you, Jake? Dominic? Don't go, Fallon. Who is it? Who are we expecting? I want to talk to you about a check you tried to cash this morning. You're under arrest, Fallon. Look out, Chief. I've got it. Is this the same gun you used to kill McCashier, Fallon? I never kill anybody. Ballistics will tell us if you don't, mister. You'll never get anybody to identify me? We will when they see you with a piece of this gold foil over your teeth. I don't have to say anything while I see a lawyer. My arm... I'm bleeding. You gotta get your doctor quick. I already lost a lot of blood from my head. Don't worry about it, Fallon. You'll be getting a transfusion in no time. It won't take long. We already know your blood type. Come on, Harrington. Let's carry him out. This is David Bryan. I hope you enjoy this case from the files of Mr. District Attorney. I'll be back in just a moment after this message from our sponsor. Now, here is the star of Mr. District Attorney, David Bryan, with a word about the program you have just heard. Bud Fallon was convicted of murder in the second degree and three counts of involuntary manslaughter. He was sentenced to life imprisonment. However, he was killed in a fight when he attacked another prisoner with a knife. Now, this is David Bryan inviting you to join us when we present our next case based on the facts of crime from the file of Mr. District Attorney. Mr. District Attorney was originated by Phillips H. Lord.