 Johnny Dollar. Mr. Dollar, this is Lawrence Penworthy Thurston, sir. Thurston? Yes, sir. I am the local representative for the State Unity Life Insurance Company down here. Down where, Mr. Thurston? Casey, South Carolina, sir. Casey, that's somewhere near Columbia, the state capital, isn't it? Yes, sir. It's practically a part of it. And while you're down here, you all must be sure to visit our fine old state house and some of the other fine old historical places we have and are mighty proud of. While I'm down there? You can come right away, I hope, sir. Well, I don't see any reason why not. Good. What seems to be the trouble, Mr. Thurston? Well, I'm afraid, sir, that one of our most important clients, at least wise from the standpoint of all the insurance that you carry with us. Yeah. Well, it looks to me as though somebody might be wanting to kill this fine lady. To collect the insurance, hm? Well, sir, now I didn't say that, but if you all are free, I'd suggest you come on down here and kind of look the situation over. Mr. Thurston, I think you're right. The CBS radio network brings you a Mandel Kramer and the exciting adventures of the man with the action-packed expensive house, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by a special investigator, Johnny Dollar, to the State Unity Life Insurance Company office in Casey, South Carolina. Following is an account of expenses incurred during my investigation of the all-what matter. Expense account item one, 5110 Plain Fair, Hartford to New York to Columbia, South Carolina. It was close to midnight when the plane sat down at the airport. So item two, a total of 1850, covers a cab in to the DeSoto Hotel, a late, late supper. Some of that well-known pounding of the pillow, then breakfast in the taxi to the office of State Unity over in Casey. The office happens to be on State Street, not far away from station WCAY, which incidentally carries the radio reports of these cases of mine every week. The insurance man, Thurston, turned out to be around, pleasant whitehead fellow in his early sixties with a soft, warm, southern accent so thick he could cut it with a knife. All right now, Miss Dollar, would y'all care for a cigar? Thank you, but I'll smoke one of these cigarettes. You don't mind? Not at all, not at all. Here's what my friends up north all would smoke up there where they make them. Up north? North Carolina, Virginia, where they... Oh, I see. Yeah, but all right now, Miss Dollar, this client of mine is a fine lady by the name of Miss Melanie Ramsey Pembroke. And you said it looks to you. Miss Dollar, she'd come from one of the finest wealthiest old families we got around here. Yes. Yes, so it dates back to 1718 on the Ramses side. That is when they first put up old Fort Congaree just south of here, the place they called Grand Bay. Fort was to keep away the Indians named after the Congaree River. Yes. Or maybe it was the other way around. The river named after the fort. Anyhow, that was long before the war. I mean, the war. Yes, I'm sure it was. Anyhow, a great, great grandfather. Or maybe it was a great, great, great... Well, anyhow, Colonel Jacob Ramsey got a hold of thousands of acres all over these parts. And Miss Dollar, the Ramses side of that family's had money ever since. And that includes up to the present. Yes. Now, you said that this Mrs. Ramsey Pembroke... The boss writes a Miss Melanie Ramsey Pembroke lives in the one fine, big old home over in Ramsesville. You just take the Platt Spring Road out of Casey and you follow the sign and you can't miss it. And what's happened to her? Well, Miss... You saw on the phone that you think somebody wants to kill her. Yes, sir, I do. Why? Because of that package you received in the mail just before I called you up in Hartford. And the reason I called you, sir, is the count of Ramsesville is so small, hasn't got itself any kind of a police department. I see. What was in the package? Well, mind you, I didn't see it. I didn't see it for myself. All I know is what she told me on the phone before I called you. What did she say was in it? And of course, with her young husband being away. That's, sir, Mr. Peter Pembroke. Mr. Pembroke? Well, he's kind of, you know, a sort of a traveling salesman. Mr. Pembroke, would you get to the point, please, about that package? Oh, yes, sir. I certainly will all right then. Because, Mr. Darla, the way I figured out, you better rent yourself a car and get yourself over there to see her just as quick as you can. The package. Well, Miss Darla, you know what was in it. What? One of those, what you all call, one of those infernal machines. Infernal machines? I'm sorry, you mean a bomb? Yes, sir. And if I was you? Yes. All right, Mr. Thurston. I'll see you later. I spent item three, 50 bucks, for deposit on a rental car. Fortunately, finding Ramsay, though, was just as easy as Thurston had said. Also, as he told me, there wasn't much to the place, except for Ramsay now, the Pembroke home. I was met up the door of my Mrs. Melanie Ramsay Pembroke herself. She was in her late 40s and still very beautiful, or perhaps Hanson was a better word. I'll put it this way. And that fine, dignified, well-kept old home she fit perfectly. Please do sit down now, Mr. Darla. And let me tell you about this terrible thing that's happened, this horrible infernal machine. Yes, ma'am, thank you. My husband is away, you see. He spends a great deal of his time out selling things. I believe you call it on the road. What does he sell, Mrs. Pembroke? Some kind of tools, I think they are, for big companies. Machine tools? Yes, that's what he calls them. He's really not very good at it. Mr. Darla, I've insisted he do something with his time, and that's it. Mrs. Pembroke, before we go any further, I want to ask you a question, and I hope it won't embarrass you. Yes? How old is your husband? He is 11 years younger than I am. I see. And, uh, like yourself, rather wealthy? No, I'm afraid things were rather difficult for Pete until we got married. How long ago was that? Been there for four years now. I see. And where did you say that this present selling trip had taken him? He flew to Milwaukee and Minneapolis and Duluth, and he should be back any time now. Mm-hmm. Would you go on, please? Well, there really isn't much to tell you. I received this rather badly wrapped package early yesterday. After noon. There was no return name or address on it. Or perhaps it was torn off. Yes. I know I do. Who might be sending me something. So, like a curious child, I guess I shook it. Mm-hmm. And then I noticed the strange sort of ticking sound inside of it. Well, Mr. Darla, perhaps I've been reading too many mystery stories while Pete is away. I see. But I'm glad I have. Because what I did was throw it in that window and throw it out in a little fish pond out there. And then what happened? Nothing. Nothing at all. But a few minutes later, when I went out to look at it, that package had fallen all apart. Uh-huh. And here, Mr. Darla, I'll show you what's been wrapped up in it. Do you see? I certainly do. That's a time bomb, all right? Luckily for you, it's a pretty crude one. Throwing it into the fish pond not only broke a couple of the wires, but got it all wet and ruined the detonating device. I can hardly believe it, Mr. Darla. As I told Mr. Thurston, Lucy, though somebody wanted, so somebody would tell me... Now, the package was addressed to you, not your husband. Yes, that to me. Tell me one thing, Mrs. Pembroke, could you read the postmark on the package? Yes. Did it come from Milwaukee or Minneapolis or Duluth? No. Where? It came from Chicago. Chicago? Well, that's bound to have been a stopover on his plane route. Yes, I guess it. Oh. Yes. Oh, no. Good heavens, Mr. Darla. If you mean what I think you do, oh, no, it couldn't be. Couldn't it? Suppose we'd see. News is no respecter of broadcasting schedules. News doesn't obediently wait until it's convenient for a newscaster to talk about it. Here at the CBS Radio Network, CBS News now makes use of an innovational system called NetAlert. By the simple pressing of a button in New York Central Control, the new NetAlert system instantly cues every CBS radio station across the country that an important bulletin is coming up. NetAlert, another reason why CBS News remains the most complete news service in broadcasting today. Any fingerprints on the crew's time bomb had been too badly smudged by her handling of it to be of any use. The postmark on the wrapper said it was mailed from Chicago only two days before. But when I checked the hotel Mrs. Pembroke said he used in Duluth, I learned that he'd been there for the past four days and had just left to come back home. Did someone else then mail the package from Chicago for him? Maybe, but she still wouldn't believe you. My own husband would send me this murderous thing. Well, it is a possibility, isn't it? No. You don't know him. He's so kind and gentle. He's so good-hearted and I mean he's so good-hearted. Is there a difference? Well, you know he has some trouble with his heart, but it's nothing serious. Yes, well, also I'm afraid it's beside the point. But you mustn't think that Peter did this. You mustn't. I was interested in this terrible thing that you're thinking. I'm sorry. If you can find out who sent me this mom and why, very well, that's your job. But you must not under any circumstances, not for one minute, suspect Peter. Promise me one thing, Mrs. Pembroke. Well? That you'll let me know as soon as your husband gets back here. I'll be at the desoda. Would you do that? If you insist. You must also promise me that you will say nothing to him, absolutely nothing about this bomb until I've had a chance to see and talk with him. No, Mr. Dahl. Otherwise, I'll have to drop the case. Now, you don't want me to drop it, do you? When there's always the chance that something like this might happen again. Well? Well, of course not. Do you have your word, Mrs. Pembroke? Very well, Mr. Dahl. You have my word. Thank you. I had him forward ten cents for a phone call to the desk at the hotel where I'd registered, and I left instructions about forwarding any phone calls that I might receive. Then I drove over to station WCAY. After swapping the usual amenities with the station manager and program director, I talked with young Bill Barrett of the news bureau, kind of feeling my way gently, so not to arouse any suspicion. So you aren't here just on a sightseeing trip, Johnny? Why not? Don't you think I'm entitled at some time off to kind of roam around and look at this country of ours as much as anybody else? Don't kid me now, Johnny. What did you come down here for? I told you, Bill. Look, aren't there any fine old plantation houses around here, the sort we northerners keep hearing about all the time? Oh, there's a few of them left. Of course, there's the old Ramsey Place. Where's that? Over in Ramseyville, if you can call it aville. Old Mrs. Melanie Ramsey Pembroke, last of the line. Pembroke? I thought you said the name was... Well, she married Pete Pembroke a couple of years ago, or three or four. Oh, I see. Another good old southern family. Are you kidding me? Now, but he was smart, Johnny. Pete married into a lot of money there. Oh, good for him. Yeah, sure is. If she doesn't catch up with him, that is. Oh, what do you mean? Well, he's 10, 12 years younger than she is. A real Romeo or maybe Casanova is a better word. That's so. Yeah. Married her for only one thing, that money. What he gets now and what he'll take when she kicks off. It's a funny thing, though. What's that, Bill? Well, she's supposed to be a pretty shrewd character, in spite of all her polite manners and such. But, Johnny, it looks like she's the only one around these parts that isn't wise to him. I mean, he's playing around these so-called business trips he takes. Oh, that kind of... Yeah, a real playboy. And she doesn't know anything about it. You kidding? Of course she does. You think she wouldn't do something about it if she did know, cut off his money, throw him out, something like that? You don't know her, Johnny. But, uh, to get back to your sightseeing. Oh, yeah. If you'd like to look around the Ramsey Place, well, uh, maybe one of the boys in the station here knows that. Oh, why bother, Bill? Excuse me. Bill Byrd. Well, yes, he is. Mrs. Lou. It's for you, Johnny. Oh, thanks. And listen, boy, you've been kidding me. Johnny Dollar. This is Mrs. Pambrook. I promised to call you. Oh, he's come home? Half or three-quarters of an hour ago. This is the first opportunity. All right, I'll be right over. All right, Johnny. You were just stringing me along. Now, why? I'm sorry, Bill. I gotta go. I'm out and tired from his trip, Mr. Dollar. And with that heart of his, where he said he was just going to soak away his fatigue in a nice warm tub. I see. And, uh, that's where he is now, Mrs. Pambrook? When he's tired he likes nothing better than to lie down at the tub and read or listen to the radio and relax and... What's the matter? Well, it's just that he's been up there so long now, almost an hour. Well, if he was all tuckered out... You think it's good for him? All that heart wanting for so long? Oh, I don't know why not. No, I don't. I'm going to just make sure that he's all right. Uh, I'll go long if you don't mind. Did you, uh, say anything to him about what happened? No, Mrs. Dollar, I kept my word to you. Good, I'm glad you did. I still know you're entirely wrong, though. I'm sure of it. Right in here now. All right. Peter? Peter? They're just standing aside, Mrs. Pambrook. So many things, the good that it does, the great help that it brings, through united agencies tried and true. United campaign is counting on you. You give mark to my united campaign. Family medical doctor Eustace Culpepper lived only a half mile away, and he was there in minutes. There is no question of it, Mr. Dollar. His heart attack came on dim while he was laying there in the tub, reading or listening to the radio the way he often did. I see. Now, what was that radio on the shelf by the tub turned on? No. At least it wasn't on when I broke in the door. Then he just peacefully read his life away. Doctor, um, had he had a history of heart trouble? Well, he tried to keep it to himself, sir. Even I wouldn't have known about it if Melanie hadn't told me. Too bad him being such a young man and all. Well, I better look in and make sure she's resting properly after that. Little better sedative I gave her. You will excuse me, please. Oh, sure, Doctor. And, uh, if you like, you can make arrangements for the body. Yes. Or maybe I have a better idea. I called the police in Casey then sat down to think. That package with the bomb in it. Mailed from Chicago when Peter Pembroke shouldn't have been there. Well, maybe he didn't mail it or even have it mailed. I went downstairs to the living room and I found a stack of pulp magazines. As I looked through them and I was only interested in the ads, I finally found it. Surprise your friends with mail from all over the world signed and sent by you. For only 50 cents plus regular postage, we'll mail your letter, your package, from anywhere in the United States. And the address of the remaining outfit, of course, was Chicago, Illinois. A simple long-distance call then would tell me who paid to have that package sent on to her. Instead, I went back up to the bathroom where Pembroke's body had been found. I looked around a bit. While I was at it, a policeman came in and got the story from Dr. Culpepper and then joined me. Yes, well, Mr. Culpepper, there's no doubt of it. Mr. Pembroke's pump just naturally gave out on him. It's going on back to finally his report. I mean, I wonder what, if anything, the autopsy will show him. Autopsy, sir? Because what I think happened, officer, of course, maybe the autopsy wouldn't show it in spite of the strained, shocked look on his face as he played here in the water. Well, just what do you get, lad, sir? Well, look here, officer. Right here on the edge of this door. Yes, sir. Same level as the catch, as the bolt that was used to lock the door. Well, the doctor said that you had to break in. Yes, now just look here with him. Now, do you know what made this mark, this little sort of a burn here? Well, I certainly don't, sir. Well, the door was locked all right, but from the outside. No, sir, the handle on that lock is on the inside. Yes, but you take a piece of string and you loop it over this little handle. It's long enough. Here, look, I'll just use the hammer of a handkerchief like this. So, as I would a piece of string, I just loop it over this little handle and then I just take the ends around the edge of the door here to the outside and I pull. See? After I've locked the door that way from the outside, I just let go one end and pull a string or whatever I've used and pull it away. Somebody came in here and killed him, then left and locked the door the way you showed me from the outside? That's right. To make it look as though he died in there alone, he was locked in where nobody could get to him. But the doctor said he's hard. Oh, officer, that's the easiest part of all. Look here. One of the most dangerous things that could be found in a bathroom if it isn't handled properly. That little radio? Right here on this shelf above the tub where no electrical gadget should ever be. But the cords pulled out of the wall socket. Isn't that the way you turn it off after using it for a murder weapon to keep from shocking yourself? It's still wet. And the inside of it is soaking wet. And the switch is still on. Mr. Dollar? Mm-hmm. He laid there in the tub of water. The killer came in, turned on the set, then shoved it off the shelf into the tub. Bad heart or good, he didn't have a chance. No wonder that looked on his face. Well, what if he himself reached up out of the water and the cords pulled out the plug and set it back on the shelf so nobody would know? You're right. You're right, sir. He was murdered. But who? The only other person here in the house with him. Because she finally realized that he'd married her only for money. And when she found out he was playing around, it was just too much for that fine old family pride. But the cover-up. Cover-up? That funny infernal machine. Infernal? To be mailed back to herself. Make it look as though he was the one with murder in mind so that nobody, nobody would ever suspect her. Great day. But you did, Mr. Dollar. What? Miss Pembroke? Too bad for both of you. Now, do you think you can shoot fast enough to get both of us? You first, Mr. Dollar. Nice work, officer. Thanks. But to think that I, a gentleman, sir, whatever, struck a woman that way. Well, when it saved us both from getting shot? Well, even so. Well, don't you worry about it, old man. You'll get over it. So, from here on in, it's up to the courts. It's not to be broadcast, but a tidy hunk of this expense account went to that officer who so fortunately for a moment forgot to be a gentleman. You'll notice I haven't given his name. Expense account total including hotel, bill, incidentals in the trip home. Call a 300 bucks even. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Well, here is our star to tell you about next week's story. Next week, a wild old man living in, believe it or not, an ancient castle that is complete with Chamber of Horrors. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, is written by Jack Johnstone, produced and directed by Bruno Zirato Jr., a musical supervision by Apple Huber. Johnny Dollar is played by Mandel Kramer, also featured in our cast, where Tony Darnay is Melanie Pembroke, Lawson Zerby is Lawrence Thurston, Dan Akko is Dr. Co-Pepper, and Cliff Carpenter is the policeman. Be sure to join us next week, same time, same station for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. This is Art Hanna speaking.