 No vac, for hire. Put the sign out in front of my office, says Pat Novak, for hire. It's an easy way to put it, because if you're going to make a living down on the waterfront in San Francisco, you've got to do everything but run for office. I rent boats and kick around a few scruples if the price is right. It's a living, and if anything goes wrong, you can always get your mother a visitor's pass. If you do get in trouble, you go first class all the way. I found that out when I first met Doreen Wilde. It was almost dark, and I was sitting in the office with the door open when she first showed up. Showed up's the right word. The wind was blowing outside and pushed her dress tightly against her legs as she walked in. She was young, and from what I could see, she made Cleopatra look like Apple Mary. She had a voice like a bowl of warm stew. Hello. Are you Mr. Novak? That's my story. I'm Doreen Wilde. Mind if I sit down on your desk here? You'll block the view. You'll get used to the new one. There. Now lean back and let me look at you. I want to hire you, Mr. Novak. After the look or before? You've got a power complex, darling. You know a man named Joe Condano? He's a gambler out on Geary Street. Friend of yours? I don't dislike him that much. We have business connections. That's why I want to hire you to give him some money tonight. A needy case or a bad debt? A bad debt. Condano has an IOU for my brother for $10,000. You can go from there. Not if I'm supposed to say it was a fixed game. Condano's been around a long time. Yes. That's right. There are only two kinds of gamblers in this town. One honest one's a dead one, so if your brother owes $10,000, he better pay. That's why I'm hiring you. Just pay off Condano and make sure you get the pictures. Pictures of the Grand Canyon, huh? We'll talk about my past another time. Well, for the moment, we'll just say you're photogenic. That's right. Your brother can't get the $10,000, so Condano is shaking you down. Yes. I'll bet you make a nice rattle. How did Condano get the pictures? My brother gave them to him. You get a charming brother. You see only his better side. Will you do the job for $100? How long is it going to take? Two hours, maybe. You'll have to meet with my brother. To meet with your brother at $100, Cooley wages? He'll give you the information, then you can see Condano. Where do I meet your brother? Room 729, the Dixie Hotel. He'll be there about 830. About packing crate down on Powell Street? Your brother's a cutie. I know why knows it wouldn't go in there. We'll meet you there at 830. Oh, you're going to be there? I can stand it. Did you carry a spare battery for that gleam in your eye? Your $100 covers that, too. See you at 830. She smiled at me, and I felt like a guy that just found an oil well in the basement. Now there were a lot of things about the deal I didn't like. She kind of made you forget. I kept remembering her as she walked out of there with a slow, easy gait. She had knee action that didn't make a nash jealous. Well, I hit the Dixie Hotel about 825. It was the kind of a hotel that has a 4 AM checkout rule. There were two or three guys sitting around reading tip sheets and over in the corner, a couple of well upholstered gals were talking about recipes, I guess. The desk clerk was the worst of the lot. He looked like a guy that might have been expelled from Alcatraz. Nobody looked up as I walked through. When I got to 729, I knocked. There was no answer, so I opened the door and walked in. There was a bed lamp on and a lot of smoke in the room. Through the smoke, I could pick out the committee. They were crazy about me. Come on in. Looking for someone? Yeah, but she's got a better figure than you. Close the door. No, she's not here. I'll just run along. Close the door, mister. You need the ventilation. I said close the door. Now sit down. Sit down on the bed there. You're a tough host. So I'm brokenhearted. Just be a good boy now and give it to me, you know? You got the wrong guy. Give it to me fast, mister. I don't know what you're talking about. I came up here to meet somebody. Already met him. I've run across better people than sewers. Now look, meathead. I'm only going to say this once more, so make a copy. You got the wrong guy. You think I got something? I haven't got it. No? No, so you and your playmate swing out of here in your tails. I never saw you until three minutes ago, and I'm tired of the friendship already. All right. Eddie. Go through this guy's coat. Sure. Now wash your hands, junior, and then put them in your own pockets. You got a favorite profile, fella? Because I'm going to put this gun on one side. Take your choice. Grab them, hold them up. All right, Eddie. Now you don't have to wash your hands. I woke up with a head the size of Rhode Island. I rolled over and tried to get up, but I was about as strong as a moth in a wind tunnel. The room was dark, and I couldn't see very well. It was a stale, musty odor. Could have been a marathon dancer's dressing room. With a little fixing up, the sort of place you wouldn't be found dead in, there was a guy lying next to me who didn't feel that way about it. One look at the guy, and I could see he was dead from the crew cut down. Somebody wrapped a towel around his throat and forgot to say when. I should have got out of there right then, but I used my brain like a bottle of medicine, a small dose every three hours. I stood there, looking down at him. Felt like a guy that's just rolled a seven the second time out, a small chunk of light squeezed through the door, and I could see particles of dust settling on his face. He was lying there, straight and white-faced with a little bit of scowl as if he didn't like the idea. I went through his wallet, found a few bucks and some identification. Enough to prove he was Frank Wilde, Doreen's brother. Well, it looked nice and clear. They'd done everything but pin the IOU on his shirt. Well, I couldn't wait around because when homicide got there, I was going to be as popular as a can of salmon on Friday. Homicide meant Inspector Hellman, a guy that couldn't even make the vice squad. We were as close as a piccolo and a base trombone. I got to thinking about him and decided to get out of there. It was a good idea five minutes ago. Hello, Novak. Oh, Hellman. Small wake, huh? Just a few close friends. You always dropped by room 729 this time of night? I got a bad memory for faces. Who's your friend? His name's Frank Wilde. That's one answer. I was supposed to meet him here at 8.30. That's another. You got a third? Who killed him? I don't know, Hellman. Maybe three or four people. Maybe a pack of lugs from Joe Condano's. Yeah? I think you're modest, Novak. I think maybe you killed him. Oh, yeah, sure. I wrapped the collar on his neck, beat myself to death with a pistol, and jumped into the same grave. Maybe. Oh, stop it, Hellman. That isn't smart. That still leaves you when they're running. I came up here to make $100. That's all I know about it. Check down at the desk. I'll tell you. I checked on the way up. The desk clerk says room 729 is in your name. Get your dough back, Hellman. You've been hijacked. Yeah? Look up a gal named Doreen Wilde. Who's she? The stiff sister. He got in a jam with Joe Condano and bailed himself out with some pictures. Oh, what kind of pictures? You just look her up and find out where she was at 9 o'clock tonight. I got a bird in the hand. And call on Joe Condano. His gunsles held a convention here tonight. That's too much legwork. You're handy, Novak. I can't afford a bum wrap, Hellman. Get yourself another boy. You get me one. Your hotel room, there's a dead guy in it, and you've got a bad record. I can make that ad up for the DA. You can't add a pair of zeroes without crib notes, Hellman. I can try hard, and I'll be all through in 24 hours. That's how long you got, Novak. You got one day, and you're not going to be lonesome because I'm going to put a tail on you the whole time. That'll be fun. I'm going to know where you are every minute. Stop posing, will you? You couldn't follow an elephant across a basketball court. Just stay handy, Novak. I'll be ready. I'm going to fingerprint this room and run that towel through a test. And then I'll be ready. Yeah, you better watch out for that towel. Remember when it comes to towels, Hellman, you have to start from scratch. Left, Hellman was smiling like an Academy Award winner. I didn't blame him because from my side of the road, things look rough. From here on, he could play a pat hand and come out all right. There are only two other people, Joe Condano and that girl. I was real worried. So I looked up the only honest guy I know, the next doctor and a boozer by the name of Jaco Madigan. He was all right for a guy who tries to drink all the whiskey in the world every night, only some night he's going to make it. I finally found him at the Bellevue Hotel, holed up in the hunt room. He was getting the most he could out of a bottle, old whiskey and young ideas. It was 10 o'clock and he was carrying a bigger load than the Berlin Airlift. Oh, ho! A drink for Mr. Novak. And one for me, I'll have to catch up. Skip me, you're busy, Jaco? I'm deep in the labor of love. What happened to your face? I got a better offer. I'm in a jam, Jaco. You've got to help me. You're always in the jam. You're the eternal patsy. Also, you're my solitary reason for going on. Forget it, Jaco. Well, you're the last project Providence has allowed me. An hors d'oeuvre that fate has thrown me to nibble on. I'm your conscience, you know. Yeah, all right, all right. You have no conscience of your own. Oh, you have fleeting moments of fright which you confuse as moral sense, but no conscience. All right, let's get off the platform, shall we? I need help, quick. What kind of jam? A big one? Yeah, I woke up about an hour ago holding hands with the dead man. Where? Room 729 at the Dixie Hotel. I hope you changed rooms. Hellman walked in and found me praying for the dead. He's got an idea I did it. A shrewd policeman? That was the second feature. We opened with a pistol whipping by Joe Condano's gunsles. All you got to help me. Would a drink help? Hellman's got a guy tailing me. I got to go slow, Jaco. I want you to hit Condano's place and pick up every scrap of dope, will you? I'd look out of place in the gambling joint. There's a bar. Tour the joint and find out when the boys got back, huh? Would you plan to be hiding under a rose bush? I'm going up to see a girl. She's the dead guy's sister. Are you going up to extend sympathy? She's mixed up, too. Condano's holding some blackmail pictures. Let's reverse the assignment. Now look, you see Condano outhagged by Doreen Wiles' place. She must be Harry Wiles' daughter. Who's he? The money crowd to use a low term. What's he like? A retired octopus. After he got sick of chasing cigarette girls, he settled down to be a social worker. Now he's like all social workers. A guy who's embarrassed because he wasn't born poor. And for years, he's been annoying the poor by trying to help them. Hit Condano's place. Now, if you hit anything good, phone me at her apartment. And keep out of trouble. I'd say the same to you if it weren't futile. Good night, lover. When I walked out, Geary Street was cold and deserted. The fog had moved in and staked out a claim all the way down to Market Street. There were two Marines across the street arguing, so I didn't hear it at first. When I got out of range, I began to hear the footsteps behind me. I stopped once and the footsteps broke off. I walked on a few yards and the footsteps were right behind me. They had a familiar ring, and I was sure it was either a helmet or a water buffalo. When I stopped and waited, Helman walked up. You're out late, Novak. What happened to that tail? He asked for more dough. I put our best man on it. Where are you going? Well, now I'll bet you get some real good answers on that question. Where are you going, smart boy? Doreen Wilde's apartment. Yeah, why? To find out where she was at 9 o'clock tonight? It won't do you any good. Why? Coroner's report. The guy got knocked off about 7 o'clock tonight. Well, he took a long time dying. That towel was a joke. If he wasn't strangled, he would have been red-faced. He wasn't. Well, now let me guess, Helman. He died of lingering malaria. Yeah, he was poisoned. That means he was dead when you brought him in. Oh, that changes things, doesn't it? A little. Don't let me keep you Novak. I'm busy anyway. Yeah? Yeah. Checking your alibi for 7 o'clock. I had no alibi for 7 o'clock. That was right after the girl left my office. Oh, I might be able to dig up a witness, but I wasn't sure. It's like asking a horse if he's going to win the derby. Well, the questions were piling up, so I dropped by Doreen Wowell's apartment. I began to wonder. It was right next door to Condano's place. When she opened the door, I found out what the right kind of breakfast food will do. She was wearing a slack suit without much slack. She was swinging slightly in a warm, slow way. Now, if there was any rhythm there, that's the kind you hear 1,000 miles down the Amazon. And when she said hello, you knew it was all chemistry. Hello, Mr. Novak. I missed you at room 729. This will do just as well. Come in. Yeah. Mm. You're wearing your face a different style. Yeah, Condano's boys didn't like it the old way. I like it very much. Yeah, what happened to you tonight? Frank was supposed to pick me up. He didn't come by. I see. Your brother finally showed up at the hotel. Oh, yes? Yeah. He paid off that IOU. Is that a quaint way of telling me he's dead? I suppose. Oh, don't sob, Sallad. You'll wake the neighbors. You know by this time that to me Frank was a poor excuse at best. Nothing more. Besides, I knew he was dead. Father's down there now, identifying the body. Just for the record, who has those pictures now? Condano, I suppose. His boys piled me tonight looking for something. I got the idea it wasn't my social security number. Oh, you've had a busy evening. Yeah, they're going to book me for Frank's murder. Just call me Patsy. You need a drink then, darling. It can wait. Now, look, you're going to save some time if you tell me right now. No, I didn't kill Frank. I'd be willing to contribute to a shrine for the man who did. How about Condano? I don't know. In fact, I don't know Mr. Condano. Is there a stay yet? Yeah, go ahead. Patsy, I'll give you $5,000 to find out who killed Frank. Oh, I'll admit it was a good idea killing him, but I want to see the family name cleared up. Why don't you change names? That's easier. Oh, don't be crude. Will you do it? I may hang, and you can save your $5,000. Here's your drink. The money might help. Should we call it a bargain? Suit yourself. You don't want to stand there balancing that drink. You know, you're an interesting guy, Patsy. I like you. Yeah? Yeah, don't snowball the statement. Why'd you make it then? It seems safe enough. Are you sure? You're a little close, Patsy. Are you sure? At this point, I don't care. Come here, baby. What's on your mind? Where I can buy a desert island. Gee. Looks like you got an offer. Father, he's forgotten his key. Excuse me. Come on over, Father. I want you to meet Mr. Novak. Mr. Novak? Yeah, they think I killed your son. Hi. He's the one I told you about. Oh, yes. Yes, now I remember. It's probably from me. Hello? Oh, oh, yes. I think so. I'll be right there. I've got to run, darlings. Only be gone a while. Father, keep Mr. Novak sober, hmm? I'll pick up from there. Good night, Father. See you soon, Patsy. Remarkable girl. She's active, too. Does she always sail out for a night camp? A remarkable girl. More so than Frank? Yes, I'm afraid so. You seem to like him better dead. Well, at least he's more harmless that way. Perhaps that sounds unbecoming of a father. Well, if he looks better that way, he suits himself. I've never made any attempt to camouflage my feelings. I'm fond of my daughter. And my son, I've loathed in a casual way. He's a mishap of nature, which for years I've been content to blame on his mother. This matter of the gambling debt, case in point. You know about that? Oh, yes. Plus Doreen's liberal contribution to the problem. By the way, Mr. Novak, who did kill him? I thought maybe you did. No. I'm not a doer. I just cheer from the grandstand. Excuse me. Hello? Hello? I know that. What'd you find out? All right, drop the clowning. Well, I found out about your friend. Yeah? They came in about 10 o'clock, so that puts them right in line. No, not anymore. The guy got knocked off at 7 o'clock. Better start looking for a tire between the girl and Condano. Not a chance. She doesn't even know Condano. She makes friends very quickly then, because she just walked into his office. Beginning to fall into place. If the girl and Condano were that chummy, they were using those pictures to squeeze the old man, probably. There was only one thing about it that didn't make sense. Why did Condano's boys beat my brains out if he had the pictures all along? Well, I talked to the old man awhile, and then I headed for Condano's joint. They were closed when I got there, so I went home to bed. I'd have given a good price if Tamara never rolled around. But the sun was eating through the haze the next morning when I walked into Condano's place. A sad old biddy with a mop told me Condano was in his office, so I knocked in the door. Yeah? Hello, Condano. I'm the guy your boys pistol whipped. Novak, come on in. I wouldn't worry. Maybe you'll heal handsome. Thanks. I'm sorry about that, Novak. I'll bet you are. Well, that's the way you'll get it. It won't come engraved. If I say I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh, you're full of tears. You going to shed one when they send me up on a bum murder rap? No, I'll buy you a handkerchief, though. If you got the time, you might tell me what Doreen Wild was doing in here last night. What are you care? Maybe we're in love. And maybe you're putting the screws on old man Wild. Hello? Now, did you tell anybody you were coming in? No, just a birdie. It's for you. Yeah. Hello, Jaco. When? Where I'm sitting, it doesn't make sense. Now, of course not. Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know. How are you feeling, Condano? Get to the point, Novak. They found a dead guy out in the marina this morning. He was shot and banged up badly, but they identified him. What's that to me? Nothing, except they identified him as Joe Condano. Confused? No. It was a guy named Eddie Darrow. Friend of yours? Yeah. Yeah, I guess he was. What does that prove? It proves lots, Novak. It proves unless you find her in a cemetery, you never trust a woman. It is a cyst deep, deep, deep short. We could make it now. I knew that. Condano was mad about something, and the list was going to blow. I called Helman. His little lid was gone 10 minutes ago. He had my murder gun, and it belonged to old man Wild. A messenger walked in and put it on the sergeant's desk a few hours ago with no explanation. This was the clincher. From here on in, it was cakes and a ale. I told Helman what I knew. He picked me up at Burri and Taylor, and we headed it for the wild apartment. The girl and the old man were in the living room when we walked in. Everybody had breakfast? Patsy, I didn't know you came out to laugh dark. We just wanted to call you and your old man. Wild, this is Inspector Helman. Is there anything I can do? You're ambitious, Wild. Helman's here to arrest you for murder. I'm a mule, but not frightened. They might have gone easy on you for killing your son, but not Eddie Darrow. And who is Eddie Darrow? The guy you thought was Condano when you killed him last night. Your daughter was helping him put on that squeeze. She even sent in your gun this morning. Please, Doreen, tell these men. Well, the starting backfield, hello, Condano. Step aside, Novak. You don't need that gun, Joe. Not for long. All right. Push the girl out there. Push the girl out there. You're a gambler. These are bad odds, Joe. Just keep talking. Just keep talking loud. And when you stop all of a sudden, you'll know I'm through. You made the first switch, Joe. I didn't trust you, so I sent Eddie Darrow up. He was a good guy, and I like him. I didn't kill him, Joe. You made it easy, though. Say, I'm fast, baby, here at Condano. You can also hear me. Watch the old man. Oh! Give me that gun. Yeah. They keep shooting the wrong people around here. I'm sorry, I had bungled, huh? Yeah. Yeah, you bungled, Joe. How's the old guy, Novak? He should live so long, Helman. He's dead. You're going to need me soon, Helman. Yeah, right now. Come on, Joe. Tag by headquarters, Novak. Sure. It was a fun one, at last. I'm sorry he jumped in front of me. He didn't have to do it. No, but you expected it. I made to expect things, Patsy. Are you not going to mind this? Expect to that, too. You can slap me, but don't leave me, Patsy. I don't want to be alone. You got a cigarette? They're on the table. I see. A match, Patsy. You go build your own fire. I'm leaving. Please, Patsy, I don't want to be alone. You won't, I'll send you a whistle. Goodbye. It was a sweet double cross right from the start. Frank pitched the first curve. He stole the pictures from Condano's office the day of the payoff. He was going to wait for the dough from his sister and skip. In the meantime, the old man found out about it, killed the son, and left him in the hotel after Condano's boys had cleared out. Oh, it would have worked out all right, but Doreen found the pictures in the old man's room and guessed what happened. She gave him back to Condano and then made a deal with him to put a squeeze on the old man. And then she double crossed Condano by tipping off the old man that Condano was on his way up. I guess he figured the girl for a fast play and sent a pal instead. The old man didn't know the difference. He really thought he killed Condano. And then the girl wrapped it up by sending his gun to headquarters. Things had gone right. She'd have been right in the middle of that gravy boat. Her brother and Condano would be dead. Her father would be up on a murder ramp. Once it started unraveling, it moved real fast. The first tip off I got was when she offered a dough for her brother's killer. She'd have all that dough. And on the book, she'd look like a field of her month's snow. She was feeling around between somebody's shoulder blades. And from then on, all the cards fell just right. Condano was probably right, but they're not in the cemetery. Watch out. Well, Hellman had only one question. Why would a guy want to kill off a dame like that? After I saw the pictures, I wondered myself. The Armed Forces Radio Service has just brought you Pat Novak for hire, starring Jack Webb. Pat Novak is produced by William P. Russo. Jaco Madigan is played by Tudor Owen. Inspector Hellman is played by Raymond Burr. Music was composed and conducted by Basil Adnam. Be with us again next week when over most of these same stations, we'll bring you Pat Novak for hire by ABC, the American Broadcasting Company, for listeners in the United States, and rebroadcast for Our Men and Women Overseas. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio Service, The Voice of Information and Education.