 From Hollywood, it's time now for our time and property insurance. Holy, look, you always start making calls at 4 a.m. Mr. Henley. I had to phone clear across the country, Mr. Dollar, to find out that you're right here in Los Angeles. Yeah, that's right. The Beverly Hilton out here in Beverly Hills. Got it. But I've cleared up the case that brought me here, so as soon as I have breakfast, if they serve it at this unearthly hour, I'll pack up my bags and go back to Hartford. Please don't. Oh, what's up? One of our clients is about to present us with a claim that I think you ought to investigate. As long as you're right here. Yeah, what sort of a claim? For the loss of his yacht. How much of a claim? Between $150,000 and $250,000. Wow, hey. You know where Malibu Beach is? Yeah, sure. Up the coast a few miles. Used to be a famous movie colony, that sort of thing. That's the place. Well, if you can find some means of transportation, I'll meet you at the Malibu kid. On expensive, Mr. Henley, I can find anything. Well, now look here. And on a claim that could run to a quarter of a million. I'm sure you won't be chintzy. Mr. Dump. I'll see you at the Malibu Pier. The exciting adventures of the man with the action packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. One of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. I'm going to get a Johnny Dollar. To the Western Maritime and Property Insurance Company, Los Angeles, California. Following us, an account of expenses incurred during my investigation of the Malibu mystery matter. A fancy breakfast in my room at the Beverly Hilton. Item two, $50 deposit on the best-looking rental car I could find. I drove out Santa Monica Boulevard at the coast highway, then north along the edge of the blue Pacific, some 12 or 13 miles to Malibu, where a long fishing pier stuck out into the ocean. Cars were parked for half a mile on either side of the pier entrance. And it looked as though half the population of LA was crowded out on the pier itself. Thanks to an ambulance that pulled away from the curb and headed south toward town, I found a parking space. I had vessels out there circling around. Sink out there. The potatoes, Mr. Dollar, are $150,000 diesel yacht. What happened to her? Apparently, it just blew up. Survivors. Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Merrill and the steward in Beckham managed to get him to the launch for youth pretendin'. He was picked up by the Coast Guard. The Skipper went down with the yacht. At least no trace of his body's been found as yet. Captain Rollins. What good people just have to get back off the ship? Oh, Ms. Hanley. Now this is Johnny Dollar, a special investigator for my insurance company. Captain Rollins of the Coast Guard. Mr. Dollar. Hi, Captain. Have you found anything out there, Captain? Not a sign of the potatoes, Mr. Hanley. Yeah, it's mighty deep water. And I'm afraid it's like Mr. Merrill and his wife told us she just blew herself to smithering. Yeah. Even from here, I can see some wreckage floating in. They're all working around the oil slick out there, so the grapples ought to be able to find something down below. Some traces of hull or machinery or something. When did it happen? Two, two and a half hours ago. One of our craft got up here from Santa Monica Harbor, not more than 40 minutes after she went down. How'd you find out about it? Phone call from somebody living along the beach. The potatoes stood out there blowing your whistle and fog horn and woke him up. By the time he got out of bed, he said it looked like a regular fireworks this place. About a half mile offshore, huh? You see where they put a marker boy? Yeah. Wouldn't the wind and current move that slick? And whatever wreckage there is? No wind. That's why there's still some fog out there. And they're allowing for drift. Don't worry if there's anything left of the potatoes, those boys will find it. Now, excuse me, will you please? I got a key for check on operation. Yeah, sure, Captain. See you later. Henley, you say Mr. and Mrs. Merrill are okay, aren't you? Yes. If the Coast Guard in Santa Monica or through with them, they're probably back at their home in Westwood. I think I'd like to talk to them. By all means. Oh, I don't exactly see any particular reason for investigating here. Company policy, Mr. Dollar, on any claim, over $100,000. Yeah, but the claim can't have been made yet. Don't worry, it will be... Wait a minute. $150,000 yacht. But you said the claim could go as high as a quarter million. Yes, that's because of Mrs. Merrill's jewelry, which you always took with her. Oh, was that lost too? I don't know. I haven't yet talked to her. Then let's do it. Oh, but I haven't been for a friend of mine, living up on the hill behind the beach, she was also awakened and saw the explosion. I wouldn't have known about it even this soon. Yeah. Well, come on, let's talk to the Merrill. We'll hand to the Merrill home in Westwood. It wasn't a nice, but certainly not a fancy section. I'd have thought a man with a $150,000 yacht would live in the snooty Bel Air property, the Brentwood Hills, the Zerry Palisades. One of the sections that displayed a little more wealth. However, Mr. Merrill pretty well explained it. And quite frankly, when I had to take such a loss in selling out my plastic business, I decided we'd better entrench a bit. And really, Mr. Dollar, I don't miss that lovely big place we had in Bel Air one bit. After all, they're just the two of us, and we don't do a lot of entertaining. More coffee. No, no. As a matter of fact, Dollar, I was thinking of selling potatoes for, we ought to be frank about it, for purely economic reasons. Oh. Wouldn't it have been pretty hard to get your price for a boat like that? No, possibly. Quite frankly, the maintenance on it alone became quite a burden after I lost my business. But no matter, now the insurance will pay for her. Mr. and Mrs. Merrill, there is one thing that I must find out. Yes, Mr. Aming. Mrs. Merrill's jewelry. No, thank heavens. No, that's safe. Careful, dear, of the glass top on that table. Oh, sorry. No, you see, Mr. Handley, the jewels were the first thing I thought of when the engine on the tater started making funny sounds and woke me up. Well, I am glad of that. Here they are. All safe and sound in the little casket I keep them in. Oh, look at them, Mr. Dollar. Aren't they beautiful? Yes, very. But now suppose you tell me just what happened out there on the yacht. They said they'd been cruising peacefully up the coast, all hands on board asleep, except for the skipper at the wheel. Then the engine started making strange sounds, shaking the whole yacht. The Merrills and the crew jumped out of their beds and rushed on deck. By then, the captain had discovered something wrong with the fuel system, so he ordered them off from the tender while he tried to operate the extinguisher system. Then barely minutes after they cleared his side, came a series of explosions. And that was the last they saw the tatas and a captain. As for the Merrills, they were humbly glad they'd been lucky enough to escape. Lucky? Suddenly, sitting there, I'd be touring with the jewels. I discovered something that... Yeah, believe me. This case did need investigation. Needed it back. Johnny Dollar in a moment. And now for another episode in the life of Sergeant Donald Belweather, my husband. I sure did, Reva. How's that? Oh, you fixed him. Good for you, Donald. Thank you, my dear. Well, that's that. Now, if it rains, we're prepared for it, huh? I feel better now. Oh, me too. A driver has to see the danger. He expects to avoid it. That's right. And also keeps the back and side windows clear and rain and snowy weather. That's right. Oh, how about the horn? The horn? The horn doesn't work, Sergeant. Aren't you going to fix it? No, I don't think so. Frankly, Reva, I hate horns. Whenever there's a traffic jam, the first thing some guys do is blow their horns. Which does absolutely no good. Of course not. All it does is jar everyone's nerves. No, I don't think I'll fix them. Oh, but now wait a minute, Don. Look, supposing we're driving along and suddenly we see a youngster on his bicycle headed right out into the street. Sounding that horn will warn him and possibly avoid a tragic accident. Yes, that's true, but... Or supposing we're driving on the highway and just as we're about to pass the car, that car decides to pull out into our lane and pass the car ahead of him. He obviously doesn't see us. We won't hear a shout. But one little beep on that horn and he'll automatically scoot back and avoid a collision. Reva, you've convinced me. Even though it can be a nuisance, the automobile horn is a necessity. Then you'll repair it? Immediately. Oh, that's my Donald. That's my doll. Truly Johnny Duller and the Malibu Mystery Matter. I didn't first found out about how Mercury would play a piece of gold, make it look like silver. Why you went around putting in on everything made of gold that you could find. And remember, when you first learned that a diamond could put a scratch on glass, why you went around with your mother's engagement ring, cutting grooves and window panes, glass tabletops and so on. Okay. Sitting there listening to the Merrill's tell about the explosion on their yacht, I toyed with some of the beautiful jewelry Mrs. Merrill had been able to save. Jewelry insured for a hundred thousand dollars. Absent-mindedly, I dragged the diamond in one of her rings across the glass top of the coffee table a couple of times. Then again with pressure. And it did not cut into the glass. I tried to cover the other so-called diamonds among her jewels. Same result, no result. Those highly insured jewels were paced. Oh, it looked like we have the whole story now. Yeah, it sure looks that way. And Mr. Merrill, whenever you're ready, you just file your claim and we'll take care of it. All right, Ms. Hanley. And quite frankly, well, why kid about it? Now that I've lost my business, I can well use the money. Oh, then I'm kind of surprised you haven't sold some of these jewels. Dollar, there is a thing called sentiment that even money can't buy. Why, of course, Mr. Dollar. Before I part with these jewels- Yes, I'm sure. Shall we go, Hanley? As far as Merrill's account of the wreck, why go back to Malibu? Did I say I was perfectly satisfied, Hanley? Look, wouldn't you feel a lot better if that wreck could be located, maybe brought up for examination? Yes, but you're certainly lucky, Mrs. Merrill saved that fortune and jewelry. What jewelry? What are you talking about? You saw it yourself. Did I? Yeah, and it's covered for $100,000. That jewelry that she showed me? What are you getting at, darling? Look, I take it Merrill's business came across her, huh? Well, yes, he simply bit off of more than he could chew. You know, overestimated his market, overexpanded. Matter of fact, I've been thankful these past couple of years that I didn't fall for his picture and burst in it. Merrill's quite a promoter, you know. You mean a crook? Why didn't you say that? No, but the... His fellow estate, where he used to live, his yacht, her jewelry, that sort of thing. He will all impress the people he got to finance his venture. Merrill, fan's guy was somebody else's buck, huh? Yeah, I guess you could say that about him. So that's why you wanted me to investigate this so-called accident to a shot? No, not at all. I told you. What do you mean by so-called? Hanley, you say a friend of yours actually saw the explosion. That's how I learned of it, almost as soon as the Coast Guard. But now I don't. And if you know the address, that's where we're going. I told you, he lives up on a hill overlooking Malibu Beach. On the first, we're going to stop at the Santa Monica Coast Guard Station and pick up a charter too. Why? Also, if you know a good surveyor, we'll take him along with us. Dollar? Yeah, Hanley. I've got an idea that may save your company a lot of money. Coast Guard Station, we picked up a navigation chart and a topographical map of the Malibu area. Then we picked up a surveyor named Barkley, who dragged along one of those tripods of Aang instruments. Then on to the house of Hanley's friend up in the Malibu Hills. And from him, we got some information to begin to bear out some of my suspicion. Yeah, that's right. That's right. When I heard the yacht's whistle in the fog horn, I hopped out of bed and I stood right here in this doorway to the port. Weaning against it the way you are right now, Mr. Duncan? Yeah, yeah, that's right. Yeah. Of course, it was so dark, it was so foggy out there over the ocean. I was about to go back to bed and then boom, the boat exploded. Where? Oh, I can tell you exactly where. From here, that is. What do you mean? Well, the flash. The flash it made. It was, um, let's square between those two trees. All right, Mr. Barclay, set up your trance and get a line on that. Yep. Then plot the line on this map. All right. Dollar, look. You look, Hanley. See that microwave where the Coast Guard boats are looking for the wreck? Well, the line Mr. Duncan has given us is nowhere near there. Well, yes. Mr. Duncan, do you suppose any of your neighbors heard the noise and get up for a look? I certainly would think so. Then we really have something to work on. But, Dollar, I still don't understand. You will, Mr. Hanley. You will. Well, honey, three of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, in a moment. Times have changed, and so has the man. How often do we hear the phrase, ah, those were the good old days. But were they? Let's look at the record. During the war of 1812, the man who discharged a missile of destruction had a pretty simple job. A lighted taper, a fuse, some gunpowder, a metal ball, then, an explosion. And the metal ball was propelled toward its target, located a few hundred yards away. Now, go back in time to the year 1327. Again, the operation was simple. The taper, the gunpowder, but this time an enlarged arrow fitted into a block of metal. A man in mail, a smoky explosion, and the arrow flies a few hundred feet. Now, come up to the present. Seated before a complicated control panel is another man ready to discharge a missile. He, however, is a far cry from that artillery man of 1812 or the canineer of 1327. This man is a skilled, tutored technician. He knows his job. He pushes the button, and a sleek, slim, pointed missile blasts its way into the heavens. Its trajectory has been predetermined by other men with modern-day, technological know-how. The missile lands not a few hundred feet or yards from its launching site, but 3,000, 4,000, or 5,000 miles away. Quite a difference, isn't it? Yes, times have changed, and so has the man. And now, act free of yours truly, Johnny Deller, and the Malibu Mystery Matters. The insurance man and Parker, the surveyor, and I continued our interviews of people living along Malibu Beach who'd seen the unexplored. Yes, sir. I just drove right up in bed, and I could see straight out my front window. And you saw the actual explosion, Mrs. Gray. I certainly did. Drop right out through there. Good. Thank you. Okay, Mr. Barclay, get a beat on it with your surveying instrument, then plot it on the map. Right, Mr. Barclay. Right, sir. I see the flash right the other side of that big oleander bush out there in the yard. And you were standing right here, Mr. Pimps? Exactly here, yes, sir. Why, like to lit up the whole sky. Okay, Mr. Barclay. Right. Why, even through the fog, I could see it just fine as day. Good gee. You see, we were having a little party, and I was just going in the kitchen to make it some scrambled eggs. Yes, well, not just where. Yeah, it is. Have to be an up all night and having some drinks. Well, where were you standing? The whistle started, and the fog lord, we came out here. Right where you're standing now? And all of a sudden, bluey. Gee, me and my friends, we thought it was the 4th of July all over again, and she would have known. Yes, sir. According to our survey, Captain Rollins, your boats have been looking in the wrong area for that wreck. Yeah, Mr. Dollar, according to this chart the surveyor made, the taters went down right on top of Calico Rocks. That's a formation only about 30 feet below the surface. That means that our divers will have no trouble at all finding the wreck. Then go to it, Captain. We'll be at the Beverly Hilton. Let me know what you find. We'll do it, Mr. Dollar. Item three, 525 for some lunch. Then we went up to my room and waited. Only a couple of hours later came the call from Captain Rollins. No, Mr. Dollar, our divers didn't find a sign over, not a sign of the taters or any part of her butt. Yes, Captain? We did find a lot of... Well, they looked like heavy cans that had burst open. Like, maybe they contained some kind of explosive? Exactly like that, and some heavy logs and tight chain wedged into the rocks like an explosion had driven them in. A raft? Maybe loaded with dynamite or something to make the explosion everybody saw? Exactly. But what I don't understand is the oil slick we've found, the wreckage floating around. Captain, I think that oil slick and the flotsam were planted out there. Well, then listen... Look, check every port on the Mexican coast large or small for the taters. I'll talk to you later. Come on, Henry. We're going out to see the murals. The way out to Westwood I wanted. I was satisfied, I was sure. I knew just how Merrill had pulled his little fraud. Little? What's little about a few hundred thousand bucks? But I needed more than that for the sake of the insurance company who'd have to prosecute it. So when we got there, I decided to try a bluff. Come in, Mr. Dollar. It's a family. I didn't expect to see you back here so soon. Yes, won't you gentlemen sit down? Merrill, I... I think you ought to know that Coast Guard finally found something out there off Malibu. Oh? Yeah. The remains of your skipper on the taters. What? That's impossible. Nancy, also evidence that he'd been murdered. Murdered? Probably by you, Merrill. No. He's still alive. What? Wait, Nancy. Can you prove it? Yes. Would you rather have your husband charged with his murder? No. He... He's in Mexico with the yacht. Nancy, be quiet. That's what I figured. At some remote little port on the coast of Mexico, he and the taters. Where the yacht can be completely gone over, disguised. Meanwhile, of course, you thought you'd collect the insurance on her because of the completely phony wreck you almost got away with. Thanks to the fog and the darkness. Nancy, you fool. I could... How did you find out, Mr. Dollar? Your wife's phony jewels tipped me off that you are not exactly paragons of virtue. Oh, name, Mr. Dollar? Haste, Hanley, and nothing else. And I'll lay odds they'll sell the originals that they plan to carefully lose the fakes. Why didn't they claim to lose them in the wreck? Oh, that would have been overplaying their hand. Apparently, having saved those jewels made the wreck look all the more legitimate. But the really clever stunt was dumping oil on the water and some odd bits of wreckage away from the spot where they blew up the ramp. Yeah, it almost kept the Coast Guard from finding the cans of explosives they've used for the little fireworks display. But, Merrill, the only thing around here that's been sunk is you. Dollar, I'll fight you and this insurance company with every legal trick in the book. You know something, Mr. Merrill? I don't think you'll get the first base. Yeah, when a crook tries to pull a fast one on an honest insurance company, well, you'll see what I mean when the courts get through with Merrill and his wife. Expensive out total, including mileage on the rental car and a couple of extra days at the Beverly Hilton. A hundred and one fifty. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Stood by Jack Johnstone. Ferdinand Cast were Paula Winslow, Eleanor Audley, Jean Tatum, Ben Wright, Harry Barthel, Will Wright, Lawrence Dobkin, and Barney Phillips. Be sure to join us next week, same time and station, for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. This is Roy Rowan speaking.