 Box 13, with the star of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd, as Dan Holliday. Box 13, care of the star times. If $50,000 is of any interest to you, come to see me. If it's adventure you want, this is it, because I want you to kill me. At present, my address is 756 South Marvin Boulevard. Please come along. And don't tell anyone about this. Six South Marvin Boulevard, please come along. And don't tell anyone about this letter, Simon Andrews. The letter was dated two days before I received it. And this was one time I wish sleet or snow or winds or anything had delayed the swift courier on his route. And now back to Box 13 and Dan Holliday's latest adventure, Killer at Lard. It was written two days ago, Mr. Holliday. I know it, Susie. And you were out of town, so I couldn't get in touch with you. Well, it wouldn't have made any difference. I couldn't have made it back in time anyway. Gee, you're not going to follow up this letter, are you? It's obviously the work of a handle. A what? You know, one of those persons who writes letters and things. Oh, a crank. Oh, but you're not going. I sure am, Susie. Oh, no. You wouldn't kill him. Oh, of course not. But I do want to know why Mr. Andrews wants himself killed. And I'm going to try and talk him out of it. The fact that I hadn't received the letter for two days had me worried. A lot of things can happen in two days. So I went to the address of Mr. Simon Andrews. It was night. There wasn't a light in the big house. I walked up the front stairs, punched the doorbell, and heard a ring inside. You want somebody in there, bud? Huh? Where did you come from? Never mind where I came from. The point is, where do you think you're going? I was going inside, if the door opens. Step back away from that door. With your hands up. What's your idea? It's not an idea, bud. It's a reality. Awful real. Go on. Step away and keep your hands up. After you. Thank you. Straight ahead. Go on. I'd still like to know what the score is. About 10 to 0. And you're carrying the short end. Keep going. And stop at that door to the right. Get away from it. Tony, what's this? This is something that I picked up on the front steps, Mr. Andrews. Bring him over here. Was it you who rang the bell? That's my usual way of getting into houses. Who are you? Who do you want? You're Simon Andrews. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. I said, who are you? My name is Holliday. Dan Holliday. That means nothing. What'll I do with it, Mr. Andrews? Wait a minute, Tolling. Holliday, what did you want here? I came here to kill you. Watch him, Tolling. At your own request, Mr. Andrews. Look. Keep your hands away from your pockets. Wait a minute. Let's see what you got in there. Go ahead. No gun. No knife. I don't understand. That makes three of us. A nice cozy group. Here, I was going to give you this letter. I think you wrote it. Yes. I wrote this. And you... You're Box 13. Yes, I am. It's all right, Tolling. Leave us alone. Huh? You sure it's all right? Yes, yes. Go on. Go back to your post. Sure. I'll be right outside the window. Now, Mr. Andrews, what gives? I'm sorry, Holliday, but... I'm afraid. Afraid of what? Of being killed. For a man who wanted to be killed, you're doing a lot of unnecessary work. Why didn't you come when you got the letter? I was out of town for a couple of days. Oh, I... Please, s-s-sit down. Would you like a drink? No, thanks. I'll have one. You mind? Go right ahead. It's your house. When I wrote that letter, I wanted to be killed. Why? Maybe I'm crazy. I don't know, but I was sick of living. Just sick of it. Can you understand that? Not yet. I like to see flowers and bees and birds. You're younger than I. Anyway, I was a kind of morbid thrill thinking that someone was actually going to kill me. Did you really think I'd do it? I didn't know. I took the chance. Well, don't worry. My only reason for coming here tonight was to see what prompted this letter and to talk you out of it if possible. I wish you'd come two days ago. Why? I want to live now. I've met someone, and I want to live. Go right ahead. I have already paid someone to kill me. You... You what? You're crazy. Not now. I was. You can't be serious. I am. I tell you, someone is going to kill me. Someone I paid $25,000 to do it. I don't know who. I don't know when or where, but he's going to kill me. You're a fool. Go to the police. I can't. Your life depends on it. I know, but I can't go. If I do, there'll be no variety. I wouldn't have cared before, but I can't let that happen now. You know, I've met some strange people through my head in the start of times, but if you want the trophy, there'll be no argument. Put it on your metal. Don't joke. I'm not. You've got yourself into this. Now, get out. Maybe. Maybe you can help. Sure. Maybe you can. Oh, no, I'm sorry. Look, I'll pay you whatever you want. I can afford it. Oh, sure. If you can afford $25,000 to get yourself killed, you can pay more to stay alive. That's it. But not to me. Look, Andrews, all you have to do is call off the deal. Let the killer keep the money, but call it off. Don't you think I've thought of that? Then what's the matter? You didn't read this newspaper, did you? No, why? Look at the headline. Benny Franklin slain. Big shot of gambling syndicate killed an underworld slain. So, who cries about this? Franklin was the man to whom I paid the money. I paid him to find someone to kill me. Well, well, well, you really locked the door on yourself, didn't you? Do something. Oh, just like that. Franklin was the only man who knew about our deal. I paid him in cash. What do you think I could do? Anything. Find the man who's going to kill me. I'll pay whatever you say. Look, Andrews, it isn't a question of money. It's a question of looking through the well-known haystack for the equally well-known needle. I would know where to start. Take my advice and take a chance on going to the police. Hire private detectives, anything. I can't. I can't. Please, holiday, help me. Good heavens, you'd give help to a dog if you needed it. I'm grasping at straws. I'm afraid to leave the house. I hire tolling as a bodyguard. But sooner or later the man who's out to kill me will get to me. Please, holiday, please. All right, Mr. Andrews. But if at any time I find things getting a little hot, I'll go to the police myself. That's the only way I'll make the deal. All right, all right, anything. Now, you paid Franklin. Franklin evidently knew someone who would be willing to pull a trigger or use a knife. But you have no idea who. None. Then we've got to find a starting point. And the starting point is Benny Franklin. He's dead, man. He's dead. Very, but he must have left a family. Of course. The paper says something about his mother. I'll try to see her tomorrow morning. Tomorrow? Why not tonight? Because the police will be questioning her, watching her house. You'll have to wait until tomorrow. Then I'll see her. Well, I didn't like the setup. Andrews was a fool and obviously a psychopathic case. But he was in trouble. So the next morning I saw Franklin's mother. I can't tell anybody anything else. I told all I knew. To the police? Yes. Yes, to the police a hundred times. My... My boy's gone. What good is all this? I'm not the police, Mrs. Franklin. Then why do you want to know about Benny? Maybe I'm a friend of his. I don't know you. I never saw you before. Look, Benny once did me a favor. Call me a friend of his for that. I don't know your name. It's holiday, Dan holiday. Where did Benny know you? Well, let's not talk about that. What I want to know is, what did you tell the police? Everything I could. What was that? What do you expect me to tell you? I don't know. Maybe who his friends were or what? He was killed. He was killed by somebody who hated him. There was a man named Scott. Scott? Did you ever see him? No. I told the police. Benny saw him often. He always went out to meet him. Why? I don't know. Was there anyone else? No one I knew. Benny never brought his friends here. No, I guess he wouldn't. Now, Mrs. Franklin, did your son recently come into, well, a pretty good sum of money? Money? He always had plenty of money. I never took any of it. I wouldn't touch any of it. No, of course not. But what did he tell you if he came in to say $25,000? No, he wouldn't tell me. Why are you asking that? I have my reasons, Mrs. Franklin. Maybe if we knew he had the money, and if we could find out if he gave it to anyone, we might be able to learn who killed him. Don't you want to see his murder cause? I don't know. He was your son? Yes. My son. I was ashamed of him for what he was, but I loved him. Yes, I know. But thank Mrs. Franklin. Did he have that much money recently? No. No, I don't think he did. You're sure of that? When he had money, he spent it all at once. Then if he had had as much as $25,000 recently, he'd have put on quite a show, huh? Yes. Yes, yes. But what good is this? I don't know yet. And you can't tell me anything more about this, Scott. Well, Benny went to meet him the night he was killed. All right, Mrs. Franklin, it's all for now. And thank you. What are you going to do? Look for a man named Scott who has suddenly come into $25,000. That was all. Look for a man named Scott who had a lot of money. A killer would make himself hard to catch. Well, the starting place was one of Benny Franklin's favorite places. Then another, then another. Then finally in the bar of a little cocktail lounge. Yes, sir. What can I do for you? Quite a bit, I hope. Huh? What'd you say? Look, my name's Holiday. I'm a writer and I thought perhaps you could help me out. Oh, you want me to write something for you? Oh, no, no. But I'm interested in Benny Franklin's case. Oh, uh, so? Yeah, he, uh, he came here quite a lot, didn't he? Well, lots of people do. But Franklin came here more than lots of people. Maybe. Can you tell me anything about him? Mr. Holiday, there's something like five newspapers in this city. Pick up any one of them and read all about Benny Franklin. That's not the kind of stuff I want. Well, that's the only kind of stuff you get. Even for this? You could buy a lot of newspapers for that 50. But not a lot of information. What makes you think I can give you any? Just 50. What you want at all? Anything you can tell me. Well, I heard that Benny Franklin wasn't the big boy in the gambling outfit. Oh, you sure? That's what I hear. There was a lot of talk around that Benny was getting too big. I see. But I'm not interested in that part of the story. What you mean? I want to know about a man named Scott. Don't know him. You never heard of him, huh? I, no. Who is he? Where is he? I don't know. I don't know nothing about that. Scott's a trigger man, isn't he, a killer? Uh, oh. Did I make you hysterical? Well, yeah, kind of. But I'll tell you something, Mr. Holiday. You got something finalist to fill up? Sure. Well, you're looking for a guy named Scott. That's right. But you ain't going to find him ever. What? I'll tell you. And it's all I'll tell you. And then you leave here, Mr. Holiday. All right, go ahead. You ain't going to find a guy named Scott, because there just ain't a guy named Scott. And now, back to Killer at Large, another Box 13 adventure with Alan Ladd as Dan Holiday. Oh, there wasn't anyone named Scott. I didn't believe the bartender in that cocktail lounge. I didn't believe him because Franklin's mother had told me Scott saw a lot of Benny. But maybe Mrs. Franklin could be mistaken. I went home and thought it over. The more I thought, the less sense it made. According to the bartender, I was looking for a man who didn't exist. According to Simon Andrews, I was looking for a man who was going to kill him. Later that night, I decided to pay Mr. Andrews a visit. I was leaving my apartment building when... Don't turn around. Just keep walking, Holiday. What? Just keep walking, I said. What's the idea? Turn in the alleyway. Go on. It's good enough. Now face the wall of the building with your hands up. Way up. How's this for size? Shut up and stay shut up. You've got no gun. Everybody seems surprised at that. Maybe I should carry a few guns to keep people happy. It could be healthier for you. Now, why were you asking for Scott? How do you know I was? Friends. Who, Tenbar? Could be. Come on, Holiday, why were you asking about Scott? I have an uncontrollable curiosity about men having that name. I collect them. I don't want to have to do that again, Holiday. And I want good answers. That's the kind I don't have. Now, maybe you'll tell me who you are. I could be Scott. Yeah, I had that idea when you asked me to go for a walk with you. Who sent you to that cocktail lounge? No one. I said I want good answers. I gave you one. No one sent me to that bar. You just happened to go in and ask about Scott. That's practically it. Who told you about him in the first place? Franklin's mother. You're a liar. All right, I'm a liar. Who might argue with a gun? Turn around. Well? Hang on a minute. I want to get a good look at your face. Do I look any better by match light? I've never seen you before. I wish you never had. Who got you in town? Who did what? Come on, come on. You ain't one of them. I'm getting old. We ain't got a gun. What's your pitch? You know, I think we're going at this the wrong way. We're asking each other questions. Suppose we just settle down to a couple of true confessions. Where are you from? Why? I don't know what this pitch is, but who sent you out to get me? Get you? Yeah, you come in to put the finger on me. And I didn't come in here alone. Look behind you. What? I stand still. Don't, please don't. My, my, what a big difference a gun makes, depending on who holds it. Now, who are you? My name is Nicky. Last name, Scott? No. Would you like to be caressed with your own gun? No, no, please. Please tell Scott I won't do it anymore. Please give me a break this time. I'll get out of town. I'll do anything, but let me go. Did you say I should tell Scott? Sure. I was just going to put the bite on him once, just enough to set me up, and then I was going to blow town. Honest, tell him that. Turn around. Place the ball with your hands up. Sure. Now, let's see what trinkets you're loaded with. It's just a letter. Uh-huh. What are you going to do now? Well, since you invited me for a walk, and I didn't really want to go, I think I'd better turn you over to the police. Oh, no, you won't. Stop. Come back here. What's the matter? Nothing, man. Nothing at all. Just a friendly game of tag. What? And I'm it. My charming vis-a-vis disappeared into the night and left me holding the bag. And the bag in this case was a letter. At first I didn't pay any attention to it. Later I looked at the address on it, thinking it would clear up some of this puzzle for me. And did it? Ha. Everything got worse. So I decided to go and see Mr. Simon Andrews. Back again, Mr. Holiday? Well, Mr. Tarling, still the faithful watchdog? Let's go in. Go ahead. Where's Andrews? Same place he was last night. This way. Holiday's back, Mr. Andrews. Holiday. Come in. Come in. Tarling, get back to your post. Yes, sir. Well, Holiday? Well, Mr. Andrews? For heaven's sake, man, don't just stand there. What happened? Where were you? Did you learn anything? Which question do you want answered first? Stop it. What are you trying to do? I'm sorry. Mr. Andrews, what do you know about a man named Scott? Scott? Scott? Name means nothing. Nothing at all? No. I think Scott is the man we're looking for. The same Scott who might have killed Benny Franklin. Scott killed Franklin? But why? Could be for your $25,000. I don't understand. Put it this way. You went to Franklin hired a killer. Franklin got in touch with the invisible Mr. Scott. Maybe Franklin tried to hold out on Scott and being a man of very, very short temper. Mr. Scott erased Franklin. Did you find him? I don't know. What do you know? Just a minute, Andrews. I'm in this game on a rain check. Don't shout at me or I'll go back to the bench. I'm sorry, Holiday, but you did learn something. Do you know a man about 30? Medium height, dark hair and eyes, small mustache, little scar over his right eye? No. No, I don't. Well, he knows you. Because he had a letter for you. Here. What's this? Like I said, it's a letter. But what's in it? I don't like to be trite about this, but you could open it, you know. Oh, of course. Well? Look. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Look. Read it. You got until midnight tomorrow. Midnight tomorrow? Well, it is not signed. It doesn't have to be, Holiday. It's from the killer. Why should he send you a letter? Torturing me. It could be. Why didn't you turn that, that nicky over to the police? Why didn't you do something? What's your suggestion, Andrews? You put yourself in this hole and I'll climb out of it. I'm pulling out. Oh, no, no, no, please. You're the only man who knows who's after me. Please, Holiday. There's no object. Just find that man. How? You saw him? Yes, but you know what he looks like. Look, let's turn this whole thing over to the police. Let them find him. I can't. I told you before I can't. Holiday, make one more try. Just one more. And spend the rest of my life without my head? Take, take torturing with you. And what about you? Oh, I didn't think of that. Mr. Andrews, you didn't think of a lot of things. One of them was how stupid can you be? I know, but will you help? On one condition. What's that? You paid $25,000 to have yourself killed. Probably because you couldn't take your own life. You wanted a thrill. Okay, you got it. You paid $25,000 for it. Now I'll pay $50,000. What? I got a check of $50,000, payable to any charity I named. I... That's the only condition. The only one under which I'll try to find the man. All right. I'll do it. I'll write it immediately. Good. Oh, and Mr. Andrews. What? The check could better be honored. Or I won't go through with this. I swear I'll honor it. Take it with you. Here. Deposit it first thing in the morning. Okay. Now, what are you going to do? To find Mr. Scott. Find Mr. Scott. Oh, it sounded so easy. So I did the only thing I could. I went back to the little cocktail lounge in the same bartender. Yes, sir. What can I... Oh, you. Hello. What do you want now? I'm looking for Nicky. Nicky? Yeah, Nicky. You know him? I don't know nobody named Nicky. You didn't know a man named Scott, either. I don't. We'll pass that. But I want to find Nicky. But even if I knew a Nicky, why should I tell you anything? Because Nicky is due to get killed. Killed? That's it. I don't believe you, Mr. You've got to. A man named Scott is after Nicky. I want to warn him. There ain't nobody named Scott. Nobody who cared who admit you know. But there is a Scott and he's after Nicky. You... You're on the level... Yes, I am. Okay. You'll find Nicky where he lives. Six, five, four South Rogers. Oh, one more thing. Is Nicky mixed up in that gambling syndicate? I answered your question. The only one I'm going to answer. Now you get out of here. Get out before the roof falls in on me. Well, I was playing a hunch and playing it all the way through. I went to the address the bartender gave me. Walked up the stairs and came to a door that had Nicky's name on it. I started to knock. The door was open just a little. I pushed it all the way open and went in. I stood in the dark for a moment and walked toward a window. I stumbled over something on the floor. I lighted a match. Nicky. Nicky. He's real dead, holiday. Real dead. Talling. Talling. Scott. Have it your own way. You know, I thought you were never going to get here. What are you doing here? Where's Andrews? Give me that check he gave you. You killed Nicky. Good guess, holiday. Hand me that check. Okay, here. Thanks. Now, Mr. Holiday, you're going to be very sorry you came here. Am I? Talling. Talling. Thank you, Mr. Holiday. Andrews. Quite a gathering, isn't it? Nicky. Talling. You? Good evening, Mr. Scott. Oh, you guessed, eh? No, I figured it out. Well, I'm sorry. I haven't got time to listen to it. My shout must have attracted attention. Three men killed. You do all right. Franklin for trying to take over the gambling syndicate. Nicky for trying to blackmail you because he knew you killed Franklin. And Talling because I didn't trust him. I sent him here to kill Nicky, but I thought the check you had for me would prove too much for his loyalty. Oh, now, Holiday, thanks for finding Nicky for me. I had no idea who was blackmailing me. So you used me for a patsy, cooked up that story? Certainly. One of my boys would have been recognized. But you are a stranger. Understand? And I've got news for you, Mr. Scott. The police will be looking for Andrews. You. The higher up in the gambling ring, the man who kept out of sight. Looking for me? That's right. Because you slipped. You see, I made a phone call to the police. That's why they're coming. Not because anyone heard your shot, but because I called them. Bluff. Oh, no. When I went to see you with that letter, I only described Nicky. I never mentioned his name, but you did. You said Nicky. You. Look out, he's got a gun. Look out for him. You got your $25,000 worth, Mr. Andrews. Gee, Mr. Holiday, you certainly were smart to figure that out. Hmm. Ever played poker, Susie? Is it like gin rummy? No, not quite. But if you've ever played, you'll know how good it feels to draw to an inside straight and make it. I don't get it. Well, Susie, the police are not coming for Andrews. They're out on a call to stop a fight. Huh? Sure, I didn't think of that Nicky routine until I was talking with Andrews. But you said you called the police. Oh, I say a lot of things. Susie, a man has to say a lot of things when he's looking at his own tombstone. Do you mean to tell me that awful man actually brought your tombstone along? And I... Why? Good night, Susie. Next week, same time, through the courtesy of Paramount Pictures, Alan Ladd again stars as Dan Holiday in Box 13. Box 13 is directed by Richard Sanville, and this week's original story was written by Russell Hughes. Original music is composed and conducted by Rudy Schrager. Part of Susie is played by Sylvia Picker, and production is supervised by Byrne Carstensen. Box 13 is a Mayfair production from Hollywood. Watch for Alan Ladd in his latest Paramount Pictures.