 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. But first a word from our sponsor. And now here is our star, David Bryan as Paul Garrett, Mr. District Attorney. Mr. District Attorney knows that crime has its roots in emotion, and of these the most deadly is greed. This case started in a large badly kept junkyard on the outskirts of town near the city dump. The junk dealer and his wife are seated at the dinner table in the ramshackled house, but the man isn't eating. He's reading a newspaper. Will you stop reading that thing and eat your supper, Nick? I ain't hungry. You had your nose buried in them new car ads ever since you got the check from the salvage company. Fat lot of good it's doing you. We can't buy one. Oh, we could. I didn't have to pay that Mexican for helping me. Well, you do have to pay him, so stop daydreaming. New car. You ain't never gonna do enough work on your own to get anything new, let alone a new car. You know what's good for your men, you'll stop picking on me. You could have taken the pipe and stuff out of those condemned buildings by yourself if you wasn't so lazy. Are you gonna shut up? Or are you looking for a punch in the mouth? I didn't mean nothing. All right. Shut your trap and keep it shut. $1,800 for that pipe and I gotta give half of it away. Well, there ain't nothing you can do about it, Nick. He knows you got the check. He was supposed to be paid as soon as the stuff was weighed out. You can't stall him much longer. He'll be coming over again tonight to ask for it. That'll be him now, Nick. Come right up to the front porch. Just like he owned the place. Get busy with your dishes. I'll handle him. Well, Morales? What do you want? Oh, Mr. Hovert, I've come for my money for the work I do. I told you I'd bring it to you when it come. I ain't got it yet. I can't give you what I ain't got. Please, Mr. Hovert, I know I could bother you, but... my wife is sick when I have another baby with... Oh, look. I got troubles of my own, Morales. Well, I know you got the money, Mr. Hovert. I call the salvage company. They say everything is paid. Oh. So you're checking up on me, are you? Now look, Morales. I'm going to tell you what it'll do, Ily. Here. It's better than you deserve. Here. It's $50. For three months' work? Go on. Take it. We'll just call it square. And if you don't like it, you and your family can get out of that... shack of mine by morning. Oh, no, Mr. Hovert. You don't cheap me. I want my money. All my money. $900. You'd better take this $50 while you can, Morales. Because it's all you're going to get. Mr. Hovert, if you don't pay me now, I go tomorrow to the law. The law? Are you no good? Mr. Hovert, please. You'll drink that $50. You'll sign that paper right now, or I'm going to beat the life out of you. Stay out of this, men. Morales and I just made a deal. And the second drawer on the... Don't sign on the paper, Mr. Hovert. Come back here, Morales. Come here. I go to the law. And you ain't going far. And you ain't never going to reach that... Move him someplace away from here. Come on. Help me, I said. From now on, forever, you keep it shut. Or I'll shut up just like I shut his. Come on. Come on. Grab his feet. The Department of Sanitation boys found him. They were bulldozing some of those air sheeps to level him out. That's a good thing they saw him, Harrington. If he ever ran the bulldozer across here, he'd been buried for good. Yeah. Doc says he's been dead about 40 hours. You say the missing persons bureau has a report on the man of this description? Uh-huh. The report was filed yesterday by a Mrs. Morales. Said her husband didn't come home the night before last. Well, that fits in with a month of time that Doc says he's been dead. Now let's get a better look. Shotgun killing, huh? Yeah, yeah. He got up behind the head and threw the back. Heavy charge. Gun was probably 12 gauge. You know where Morales lived? Yeah. One of those shacks on the edge of the dump someplace. None of them have any address. But when Mrs. Morales made the missing person report, she said the shack belonged to a junk dealer named Hubbard. Although it beats me how Hubbard owns anything that's standing on city property. Where is Hubbard's junkyard? Well, it's way down at the end of the dump, about a mile and a half, that high board fence. Hey, see it? Yeah. You'll have to drive around past the gasworks to get to it. There's no direct way from here unless you want to ruin your car. Yeah, I'll go around. Hubbard may be able to give us some information about Morales. We'll meet you in town when I'm finished. Okay, Chief. Yeah, we heard about it maybe an hour ago. Somebody called to tell my husband. Let me turn this washing machine off, will you? So old you can't hear nothing when it's going. Everything we've got is old. Junk, my husband picked up someplace. Well, where is your husband now, Mrs. Hubbard? Oh, he drove over to the shack to tell Mrs. Morales. See, if maybe there wasn't something he could do for her and the kids. Morales sometimes worked for my husband. I so understand. Did Morales ever come here? Here to your home, I mean. Only when he had some business with Nick, my husband. When was the last time? Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Garrett. Like I said, he'd come to see Nick on business. He would probably be around when he came, though. When was the last time you saw him? Well, I can't say for sure. I'm too upset to think. Well, that's Nick's truck coming now. Nick will know. He'll tell you. Nick, this here man is Mr. Garrett, the district attorney. Oh, well, sure glad to know you, Mr. Garrett. Seemed like an old friend I voted for you so often. Thank you, Mr. Hubbard. Hey, is this your car? Mm-hmm. Sure is slick-looking. I must ride like a dream. Nick, Mr. Garrett wants to know something about Morales. I know. You know, I just left his widow. You know, these things hit her kind of hard. Sure feel awful sorry for her and them kids. Just a few things I want to know, Hubbard. When did you see Morales last? Your wife couldn't remember. Well, you sure are upset, men. Now, you ought to remember Morales stopped by here night before last. Well, I wasn't sure. Night before last. In what time? Well, it was just after we finished supper eight o'clock, maybe. Same night he was killed. Huh? You mean he's been dead that long? That's what the coroner thinks. You have any reasons to think differently? Well, I mean, he was only found this morning. He's been missing since the night before last, though. His wife reported that to the police yesterday. You knew that, didn't you? Well, sure, I knew it, but... Well, I figured he was off celebrating with that roll of money he had. What roll of money? Money I paid him for the job we did together. You mean you paid him when he stopped by here the night before last? Sure. Sure, I handed him $900. Wait. Wait a minute. What happened? Something Mrs. Morales told me. Just a while ago when I was over there, somebody dropped in on Morales the night he disappeared. Who? One of the shantytown bums, a guy named Shorty. Morales wasn't there when he came. This Shorty waited around for a while, and she said, and then he said he'd walk across the dump toward my place, see if he couldn't meet Morales on the way. You know, you asked me, this Shorty may be the man you're after. Sounds like a strong possibility, Herbert. I'm going to see Mrs. Morales and get more information about Shorty, whoever he is. Want to tell me how to get there? Well, I'll do better than that, Mr. Garrett. I'll drive over with you. Oh, fine. Let's go. Goodbye, Mrs. Herbert. Bye, man. I'll be back later. Goodbye. Oh, uh... OK, if we take your car, Mr. Garrett. You know, you'd bounce around too much in my old truck. It ought to be a pleasure for me to ride in a new job like yours, eh? Hop in. Yeah. Shorty is smooth. I'm going to get me a new car soon. Ah, sure does hum, don't you? Yeah. Now, which way do I go? Hmm? Oh, through the gate and turn left. Sure is a shame about Morales. Bet I, uh... Guess you ain't going to have much trouble finding your killer once Mrs. Morales tells you where to look for that fellow Shorty, huh? Seems like you had a motive, all right. Sounds like the killer to me. I hope you get him, Mr. Garrett. Morales was a mighty fine worker, mighty fine. Hate to see anybody get away with killing him. Oh, man. Yeah, this is a fine car, ain't it? Hey, just listen to her purr. This is David Bryan. Before we continue with Mr. District Attorney in the case of the murderous junkman, here is an important message I'd like you to hear. And now back to David Bryan, starring as Paul Garrett. Mr. District Attorney. The body of Juan Morales, a junkman's helper, had been found in the city dump. The dead man's employer directed me to a threadbare, but cleanly scrubbed shack where the widow lived with two wide-eyed kids who clung to their mother's skirt. There was heartbreak in her eyes, but she kept it smothered for the sake of the children until she sent them out so we could talk. Go. Go. Lean the back. Pipito, help Rosa find her doll. I try not to cry when they are near me. Take it easy, Mr. Morales. Easy. What is easy? Life is hard for me, for them. And now they have no father to turn to. Now everything's going to be all right. I told you you can stay on here, rent free. We didn't want to stay here. We were going to move away to the apartment house for the new baby that is going to come. As soon as you gave Juan his money, why didn't you make him wait so long? Well, I... For three days, every day he asked you for his share, and you keep saying that you don't get the check yet. What is this happening? Well, I didn't want to give Juan the money. I wanted to give it to Mrs. Morales here. I asked him to bring her down to the house to collect it. Why? To make sure it went to her and the kids, that's all. Mrs. Morales, Herbert says you told him about somebody coming here to borrow money from your husband the night he didn't come home. See, he meant who works with Juan at the break yard one time, two years ago. They called him Shorty. His name is Shorty Davis. Did you tell him that your husband had gone over to Herbert's? Did he? Then he said he wouldn't wait anymore. He would walk across the dump and try to meet Juan, and then he... But he went away. Where does Shorty live? I don't know. The shacks of that way. I'll have my men check them all. They'll get him. I'll see that somebody comes to give you some help, Mrs. Morales. Goodbye for now. Goodbye. Come on, Herbert, I'll drive you home. Six reports on the Morales killing Mr. Garrett. Well, thanks, Mrs. Morales. Any report on Shorty Davis yet? I don't know, but Harrington got his way in. All right. Anything worthwhile in this? A few things, I think. The shotgun pellets followed a downward trajectory, indicating that the gun was fired from above and behind the victim. Hi, Chief. Oh, hello, Harrington. Just got the ballistics report. Yeah, I know. Morgan handed me a copy when I passed the lab. I read it in the elevator on the way up. And what about Shorty Davis? Yeah, we're too late, Chief. Looks like he's making a run. Why? I will locate this shack. A few of the dump trams that he took off a couple of hours ago with his clothes in a bundle. You put out an all-points bulletin? Yeah, gave it to the radio division a half hour ago. He won't run too far. They spot him. Uh-huh, come. He's got a bad leg. Broke it in a transit accident on the subway three months ago. Got a civil suit pending against the transit company. It's supposed to come up in court tomorrow, but he won't be there. I want that courtroom cover just the same. Yeah, it will be. At least the kind that... I'll get it. He's returning to his office. That's right, Lieutenant. Good. I'll tell him. He'll probably be over right away. Lieutenant Levis from the ninth precinct. One of his prowl cars just picked up Shorty Davis. They're holding him. Good. Come on, Hargis. Let's go. Levis, say where they picked him up. Yes, sir, the railroad yards. He was trying to get into an empty boxcar on a southbound freight. Not that he had to take a freight train. What do you mean by that? Levis says he had a couple hundred dollars in his pocket. Come on. Just sit down right there. Plus the tape. Yeah. Look, won't somebody tell me why I'm cops pick me up? I ain't done nothing. If you haven't, you've got nothing to worry about. Where were you heading for? Florida. I got a bad leg. I wanted to get where it swarms. Why the Russian? You've been around here a couple of months with that bad leg. Well, I couldn't go before. They're rough on tramps down there. I was waiting to get some money. Well, apparently you got it all right, and we want to know where you got it. Well, I got it from the subway company. I busted my leg in the subway. Your suit doesn't come up before the judge until tomorrow morning. Yeah, well, we settled it out of court yesterday. Give me three hundred dollars. It won't take long to find out if you're telling the truth. Who's your lawyer? Robert Hoxie, over on Center Street. Call him Hangen. Right. Listen, mister, tell me something. What do you think I got the money? You'll find out later, Shorty. Do you have the whole 300 you claim you settled for? Yeah. Well, all except a couple of bucks I spent for eating. What time did you leave your shack this morning? Well, after early. As soon as I knew the bank was open, I could get my money. They gave me a check. And you didn't know that Juan Morellis was found dead this morning? Yeah. Dead? Morellis? Murdered. He was murdered the night you stopped by his shack to see him. Well, I never got to see him that night. But you did stop by the shack. Yeah, but he wasn't home. His wife could tell you that, Esther, huh? His story about the money is legitimate, Chief. I know it is. I'm telling you the truth. And just keep on telling it. Mrs. Morellis told you where her husband went that night, didn't she? Well, just that he was over the Hubbard's junkyard. Didn't you say you were going down there to meet him? Yeah, that's right. Well, I wanted to borrow a couple of bucks, see, because Juan knew me. We worked together once, and we used to borrow, you know, from each other. And I always paid him back. We're not checking you for a credit rating, Shorty. What we want to know is what happened after you met Morellis. I didn't ever meet him, I told you. I must have waited, oh, half hour maybe? Then I seen the Hubbards come walking through the gate. Walking? And you didn't let them know you were there. Why? I'll tell you why, Mr. I didn't want Hubbard to ask me what I was doing on his property at night when he was out. What were you afraid of? A shotgun, if you want to know. A shotgun. He's a mean guy. You'd ask anybody in Shanty Town. He thinks everybody's crooked. They're afraid they'll cart some of that junk off and sell it off to another junkie. He has a shotgun, huh? Oh, you bet he does. He nearly blasted one of the guys once. The Hubbards could have been walking back from the dumps, Harrington. You mean they might have packed Morellis' body out there? Why would they kill him? Hubbard's been stalling Morellis on some money, he owed him. And his excuse was full of holes. I'm going to call Miss Miller. Shorty can repeat when he told us and sign it. Attorney's office. Garrett, Miss Miller. I want you to take care of what we hear to the ninth precinct. Take a statement from Shorty Davis. Have him sign it. Is it confession? No, he's not the man. Whoever the man is, I hope you get him soon. Why? What's the matter? Mrs. Morellis collapsed at the morgue after she identified her husband's body. He had to take her to General Hospital. How bad is it? She lost the baby she was carrying, Mr. Garrett. I'll see you later. What are you so mad about, Chief? I don't want to talk about it right now. Listen, Shorty. Yeah? How did you get into Hubbard's yard? If you were so afraid of him, you didn't use the gate. No, there's a couple of loose boards in a fence. You know a part that runs right alongside the dump? Thanks. We're going to have a look at that place, Harkton, without being seen. What's she watering with that hose, Chief? No plants or anything growing there, not even grass. I know. She's been out there for some time, too. What's she want a mud puddle in the middle of the yard for? The rest of the place looks like it never got water. Come on. You going to let her see us? I want to find out why she's doing that. Remember it isn't around. His truck is gone. Good evening, Mrs. Hubbard. Oh, hello. You're frightened me. Excuse me, I'll let you in the car. I'll get it. The ground seems kind of dry. It's wet enough now, and at least this one spot is. Wet enough to cover any blood stains that might have seeped into the ground. Well, don't understand what you mean. Don't you? Let's have a good look around here, Harrington. What are you looking for? Maybe I can help you. If we find what we want, we won't need your help. If there was anything, Chief, it's washed away for good. Mud's an inch thick all the way over to that old car cushion on the ground. It's a... A car cushion. Look at it, Harrington. I don't see it. Hey, it's riddled with small holes. They're the same kind of holes that shotgun pellets might make. The full charge didn't hit Morales. Some of them went past him. Nick didn't kill Morales. He didn't. He committed two murders if the truth is known, Mrs. Hubbard, because Mrs. Morales just lost the new baby she was expecting. Oh, no. Where's the shotgun? In the house, I'll show you. He started watering there after you brought him back from Morales' shack, and he told me to do it. Just keep wetting it down good till it was all soaked. The man is behind that bureau, hanging on nails. He put it there. Yeah, 12 gauge, all right, Chief. Maybe I ain't a good wife. Maybe I shouldn't have told him. But I feel better about it now. Some night, maybe I'll sleep again if I have to be old enough. Where's your husband now, Mrs. Hubbard? I don't know. He just walked out this afternoon whistling. Whistling like he owned the world. Chief, Chief, there's a car just turned into that gate. It's not even like Nick's truck. It isn't a truck, Mrs. Hubbard. It's a car, a brand-new car. Get away from the window, Harington. Don't answer him. You know this shotgun is loaded. It's yours. I told him, Nick. I told him everything. How you drive a Chief Morales, how you shot him in the strap. Shut your crazy mouth. No, you don't. Don't try that again. Now get up. Come on, Nick. This time we'll use your car. This is David Bryan again. I hope you've enjoyed this case from the file of Mr. District Attorney. I'll be back in just a moment after this message from our sponsor. Here's the star of Mr. District Attorney, David Bryan, with a word about the program you have just heard. He took a jury list in 15 minutes to return with a verdict of murder in the first degree against Nick Hubbard. He was subsequently executed. Mrs. Hubbard, an unwilling accessory, was sentenced to prison for a term of five years. With the help of civil authorities, Mrs. Morales was able to find a more suitable home for her minor children. And 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.