 take one man who thought he'd seen everything, add a blind alley, and a ghost from the past. That's our story. One Way Street, taken from the files of John Steele, adventurer. This is John Steele. I wonder how many of you realize what a wonderful thing you've got in your morning newspaper. Oh, I know, it doesn't seem like much. The paper's thin, the ink rubs off in your fingers, you read it once and throw it away to wrap the garbage in it, or maybe moth-proof last year's suit with it. But how many other countries in this world would give their right arm to have it? Well, this week's story is about a newspaper man, one of the guys who stay up all night so you can have the world at your doorstep the next morning. It isn't a big story, it isn't an important story, but it's his story. And I'm proud to bring him to you. Tom Derubo. Tom? It's funny how a guy can be about his job. Almost like it was a woman, you give it everything you got, heart, soul, blood, sweat, and yeah, even tears, and for a long time it's worth it. And all of a sudden one day you wake up and say, why? You're 35 years old and what have you got to show for it? Head full of gray hair and a set of mirrors that Carpy had stopped during five years ago. Well, that's just about where I was with the morning journal. As a reporter with 15 years under my belt, I'd seen it all. And a couple of chapters that nobody's supposed to see. People with people stopped caring. Then one morning I wanted into the office. It was Tuesday. I knew it was Tuesday because it was the second hangover I'd had that week. Good morning, boss. Very funny. I'm proud of you. Why? It's only 11.30. Don't start. Oh, I mean it. Why only the other day? I told Mr. Steele. Julie. I said, Tom, it's never really late. Please. He's just running on Pacific Coast time. Julie, I concede you are ready and you are everything a woman aspires to be. Oh, that's nice. Now where are they asked for, and I got a hangover. Go in the office. I'll bring them in a minute. Yeah. They'll either kill or cure. What is it? Water, remember? Oh. Well, you certainly can be a bear on occasion. Well, there comes a time in every woman's life. Shoes in your mouth. Where'd she see her man? Water? For the animal he is. Big night, huh? Roughly huge. Date? I said, were you alone? Oh, far as I know. How far am I fast to eat? That's what I love about you, Julie. You're so subtle. I'm worried. Why? How long is this going to go on? What? This banging around night after night. Well, somebody starts taking an interest in me. Tom? And keeps me off the streets nights. Then I don't stop that. Come here, woman. You always catch me when I'm feeling the turn. Come on, Julie. No. We'll leave right now. Be in Maryland in three hours. Get a justice at the pooch. No. When we get married, it's going to be in a church with flowers and bridesmaids and everything. And when is that going to be? When you get that ink out of your veins and replace it with some blood. Ah, Julie, look. Sometimes I wonder if you really are a nice guy. You take it. I wouldn't talk to a headie Lamar this morning. Mr. Derubo's office? Yes, we'll wait. It's a long distance from Hollywood. What? Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, just a moment, please. I want you. Hello? Come into my office right away, Tom. I want to see you. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, sure, John, right away. Oh, you rat. Couldn't resist. You know, it's things like that lead to divorce. You mad? The guy said you go all on day after day and nothing much right happens. And all of a sudden one day, everything gets worse. Women. Morning, Miss Keen. Good morning, John. What's been going on while I've been away? What do you mean? You're supposed to be our top man. Now look at the stuff you've been turning up. Here. Look at this one. Ward of Hardwood makes a statement on flying saucers and you stretch it for half a column. Whoa. And here's another. Big society murder and you let hand-to-hand cover it. Why? What's happened to you, Tom? Oh, I don't know. I guess I need to vacate. No, you don't. Well, I'm tired. I talked to Dooley this morning. I know what's the matter with you. What? You've been all the way around once and it was fun. Now you're seeing everything for the second time and it's working. I know what I'm talking about. Unless you get back on the ball, Tom, I'm going to have to do something about it. OK, OK. Now, I got a job for you. What? Remember Maxie Reinhart? Oh, he doesn't. I want you to find him. He's dead. How do you know? Well, nobody's seen him alive for the last two years. Yeah, I know. He's at the bottom of a river somewhere with a nice, neat pair of cement shoes. Maybe. Well, why else would the light-headed weight champion of the world disappear? I don't know. I'd sure like to. Ask them down in missing persons. They'll tell you how they got them listed. Resume to a- I know, I know, I know. Police never found a thing. They didn't find a body, either. Way things are going with a basketball scandal. The DEA's office could use a little help right now. I tell you he's dead. See what you can find out, huh? Yeah. And let's get back on the ball. Huh, Tom? Oh, sure, sure, boss. Now, there's a name for that kind of treatment in the newspaper trade, but I can't use it here. We'll just call it being given the business. Anytime an editor wants to get rid of somebody, he sends them out on one of those impossible assignments. You can see him coming a mile away. I suppose if I'd been smarter to quit right there, but there's something about being told. I'm not good enough. That upsets me. OK, if that's the way Steve wanted to play it, I'd bring him Maxi Reinhart's cement shoes and all. Dooley and I checked all the regular sources, and then we hopped a cab for Stelman's gym. And the morgue said they hadn't had anyone since then that was anywhere near our size. Dooley. Sounded like you're buying a suit. Well, that's what the man said. I see. What'd you find out? Not much more than you did. He was such a nice man. Who? The one at the morgue. He said ordinarily I wouldn't have talked to him, but his partner was out sick today, and he had to have lunch sent in. Please. Who'd you talk to? Lieutenant Corrigan, the missing person. Oh? What do you mean by that? By what? Oh? Well, this conversation was dragging. Somebody had to say something. Conversation was not dragging. I was merely getting my stomach back to normal. Don't you feel rough? Oh, never mind. He's nice. The man at the morgue. No, Lieutenant Corrigan. Oh? There, see, you said it. Dooley, my oh was one of comprehension. Your oh was one of those obnoxious spurs the conversation that women insert every time a man stops to think. That's really very good. Thank you. Now, where were we? You talked to Lieutenant Corrigan. Oh, yeah. He was the guy that handled the case when it broke. What'd he say? Well, not much. Maxi's hotel reported a missing two days after the Murphy fight. It was a big stink in the papers for a while, but it died down like it always does. They never got a lead on it? I kept the case open for six months because of the publicity you got that nothing came with. Seems to me I remember something about a fit. Man, there was a lot of talk. Nobody ever proved anything, but it didn't smell good. Maxi was a four to one favorite, but just before the fight, a lot of town money came in on Murphy and the odds dropped. Then Maxi won the fight, and everybody stopped talking fix. Did you ever meet him? Maxi? Yeah, I met him. How's he like? Like a lot, a lot of fighters I've known. Not very smart, a nice guy. I talked to him right after the Jankowski fight in 42. He won the title that night. Of course, he was all hopped up about that, but he didn't say much. You know how those guys are. I guess if I got hit in the hell for 15 rounds, I wouldn't have much to say either. Just let us out here. Get the change, Mac. I've never been in the stillings, Jim. Oh, you'll love it. Are you sure the women are loud? Sure. Stool Wilson of these around used to be Maxi's trainer. Stoolie? The pigeon? No, no, no. When he was a kid, he used to pull Jim Corbett's stool out of the ring, the name stuck. You have to pay to get in? We don't. Add press. All those men. Stoolie. But see. Come on. He's a cuter thing, jumping rope. Bills up his legs. Oh, I'll say. Come on. There's Wilson. Where? With the guy working the bag. Stoolie Wilson. Huh? I said, are you? Yeah, yeah, I'm Stoolie. I want to talk to you. I'm busy. You're his trainer, weren't you? Oh, hey, I got things to do. Weren't you? What happened to him, Stoolie? That's it, kid. Get that little stuck out there. I'm all around. What happened to him? What are you? A cop? No, reported. I told the cops all I knew two years ago. You were his best friend, weren't you? See them. They'll tell you what I said. When was the last time you heard from them? Be that wise guy. You did hear from them, didn't you? Work that while you're at heart, kid. Keep driving. Keep driving. Come out here right. Come on, Stoolie. You can tell me. See the cops. You're his best friend, aren't you? I... If anybody else knows, it's true. That's true. Maxie Reinhart's dead. Now, let me alone. That's it, kid. Get the paperwork. I'm not from here. Come on. Are you ever in a spot where somebody said something and just because he said it so often, you stopped believing it? Well, that's the way I felt about Stoolie. When we went into Stillman's, I was positive Maxie Reinhart was dead when we left. I wasn't so sure. But how do you go about finding that guy that's just evaporated? Where you look first? That's what Dooley and I were talking about that night at dinner. What makes you think he's still alive? I don't know. Oh. Hunch, maybe. That's not good enough. Why? Go out to Belmont and see 100,000 hunch players. Where to get them? But did you see Stoolie's reaction? When I said you were his best friend, aren't you? No. He almost answered me. That's when he started saying Maxie's dead. Well, all right. I suppose he is alive. What do we do now? I don't know. Hello, Derupo. Do you mind if I join you? Yeah, yeah, I do. You're always so friendly. What is it, Scalion? You know I only come to see you on business. I haven't got chips to play in your league. Sometimes I think you have. No, Dooley. You don't want to meet this guy. The name is Scalion. Maybe you know me? No. Tom and me, we're old friends. He's a good guy, Tom. Oh, well, any friend of Tom. You remember a few years ago? It was very hard to get him apart. Yeah. At the time, he fixed a couple of my boys up. It's too bad, is it? Think so, yeah? Yeah, he's a good guy, Tom. Oh. All right, come on, Scalion. Let's get it over with. Well, I thought I have a drink with you. Not at my table, you don't. Tom. I'll show you out of here so fast. I wouldn't do that. No? The gun in my pocket might go off. I suppose he means it? Not much point in finding out, I think. Hey, you know Miss... Dooley. Yeah, Tom and me, we grew up together. Oh? Yeah, yeah, over on the east side. Oh, nice. Yeah, you know, Tom, he's a good guy. He gets up early every morning, goes to deliver the papers, he makes a lot of money. And me? I sit on a corner and pitch pennies with a kid. And one day, I says to Tom, I says, Tom, how much money you've got in your pocket? He says, I got 75 cents. I look at my pocket, I got $4.30. And why is that, I says to Tom, and he says, I don't know. And that's funny, eh? What do you want, Scalion? You know, Miss... Dooley. Yeah. I says, Tom wants to sell papers, that's good. Scalion, you don't mind? Me? I want to pitch pennies, that's good. Tom, he don't mind. Right? Oh, whatever you say. You see, Tom, she knows what's right. Come on, Scalion, what's on your mind? I hear you want to buy a fighter, eh? Yeah. I hear you up at the gym today. So what? I hear you talk to Stooley Wilson, maybe? I says, Scalion, Tom must want to buy a fighter. I don't get you. Because I say, Tom, he's a good guy. He's going to let Scalion pitch pennies. Go on. Well, maybe it's an accident. Tom asks about Maxie Reinhardt. He don't really want to know about Maxie. I see. He just wants to buy a fighter. Yeah. And then I say, Scalion, maybe you better be sure. You better go ask Tom. So? You want to forget all about Maxie, eh? Why? Of course Scalion wants to see his old friend sell lots of newspapers. That's pretty good, eh? That all? Yeah, that's all. Good night, Miss Stooley. Good night, good guy. That night I lay in my bed trying to make the pieces fall into places. Where did Scalion fit into this picture? He was a big time gambler. What did he have to do with Maxie? And Stooley, what was his connection? I kept trying to see it from Maxie's point of view. Why should the light heavyweight champion of the world want to get out of town? Unless he was invited out by somebody like Scalion? Now, I must have fallen asleep because at seven the next morning the phone rang and it was Dooley with her first good idea of the day. I met her at the office at eight and we went right down to back files. She figured if we read every issue of the week that Maxie disappeared, we might come up with a clue. It sounded good when she said it over the phone. But did you ever read the newspaper from front to back page? Personals, classifieds, obits, everything? Brother. Yeah, here's a woman right out in the street in a pajamas. Why? I thought she heard a gunshot. Where'd she live? Um, 20th and 2nd. Oh, great. That's only 30 blocks from Maxie's hotel. You had anything closer? Sure, 10 o'clock this morning I had a gun. I know, I know. We thought he heard a fight. How was he to know somebody left the radio on? It was the same block anyway. Four o'clock. Did we eat lunch? No, Tin Horn. Why don't you be a good kid and order something? Look, are you always so nice or it's just because this is our first date? Come here. No. What's the matter? I'm mad. Why? Well, it hasn't been any fun for me today either. Who said it was? Well, you act like it's my fault you're tired. I was only trying to help. Oh, I know. Do you know what today is? Your birthday? No. Saturday. Well? Well, other girls go out on dates. Have fun. What do I do? Sit in this dirty joint and read last year's news. No, no. I'm tired. Baby. I am. Come here. Now you go order us some lunch. Oh. Baby. You'll never learn. Marge, get me the drug story. It's really for us anyway, honey, you know. What? Well, think what it would mean if we turned up with Maxie Reinhardt. Oh. We could name our ticket on any paper in town, be on the top of the heap. Sam, just a minute. What do you want, genius? Hmm? Oh, me? Lettuce and tomato white. Coffee. Yeah, do you hear that, Sam? No, no. Lettuce, tomato white, and coffee. And I'll have a... Hey, Julie. What? Come in a minute. Cancel the order. Come here. Come here. Call you back, Sam. What is it? Here, look. Maxie disappeared in the third. Look at this item on the fourth. Maxie was held up for an hour last night in a Lincoln tunnel in an automobile owned by the Mans Drive Yourself system and driven by A.M. Russo of New York City lost a wheel. No one was injured and traffic was restored to normal as quickly as possible. Hmm. So? So, A.M. Russo, that mean anything to you? No. Yink Russo used to be Maxie's second, one of the best in the business. He sure? I think so. Look, what time is it? 4.10. You've worked the sports and see if they got a picture of Yink. I'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes and hurry. We've got to get to the Mans office before it closes. I'm sure it was a long shot, but those are the kind of breaks that crack big stories. Maybe it was right, maybe it was wrong, but there's only one way to find out. Julie met me in five minutes and we hopped a cab across town for the Mans Drive Yourself office. It was on 3rd Avenue around 25th Street with a garage downstairs and reception room and business department one flight up. When we walked in the room, I had the feeling I wanted to open a window. The dust was thick on everything and the little guy behind the counter looked like he should have been hung out and aired. Heavy smell of oil drifted up from downstairs. Yes, sir, can I help you? My name is Derubo from The Morning Journal. Oh, are you and your wife leaving town? Why? Well, honeymoon, eh? Well, now we have a special rate within 200 miles. No, we don't want a car. Oh, no? No, I want some information. Oh, well, now I really don't know. Give me the picture, Derubo. A picture? Yeah, a picture. Are you from the police? I told you I'm a reporter. Well, I don't know anything about anything. Yeah, but... Whatever they said, it's a lie. I haven't even asked you yet. I don't care. I just don't care. I get so nervous over here on 3rd Avenue. Wait a minute. Do you want me to help you? Really? The unsavory people that come in here every day. I just don't know. I mean, you just don't know. Only the other day. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Yes? What's your name? Why, Osgood. Percival Paul Osgood. I've worked for Mr. Mansford. 22 years. I've worked hard too. Well, Mr. Osgood. Yes, indeed. Why, I'm office manager now. Mr. Osgood. I was the one that started the new filing system, you know. But, well, I just don't know anymore. Ever since we moved over here, there isn't a day goes by that doesn't do something. Well, that's pretty much the way it is all over. What? Tom. Ah, what do you have to do? Now, let me. Hello. Mr. Osgood, look. We're looking for a friend that we haven't seen for a long time. Oh. Oh, a friend. Oh, well, that's entirely different. Yes, I believe in friendship. Well, now, we think maybe you can help. Help? Why, yes, indeed. I'd just be glad to help. Oh, women. We think our friend rented a car from you two years ago. Oh, that should be easy to find out. Miss, you know, I started the new filing system. Yes. Well, look, we have a picture of him. Now, maybe that'll help. A picture? Well, now, just wait. I'll get my glasses on. Oh. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Would you turn on that light over there? It does get dark here this time of day. Oh, sure. Thank you. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Now, do I or don't I? Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Now, there's something about the chain. No, it's not the chain. It's the eyes. Or is it the nose? The anointment, don't you? Well, I really can't be sure. You see, I see so many people. We think he rented a car from you on March 3rd, 1949. Oh, well, that should be easy to find. You know, I started the filing system. Yeah, I know. The filing system. Yes. Well, you wait right here. I'll be right back. Don't go away. What a character. Oh, he's sweet. Sweet filing system. I bet you're fucked right now. All he finds is a last week's ham sandwich. Oh, you're on. Listen, though. Oh, yes, here it is. Well, March 1949. Oh, oh, I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. Oh, now, let me see. It was the 3rd, wasn't it? That's right. Yes, here we are. Baker, Frazier, Howard, Rousseau. That was it, Rousseau. Let me see the card. Rousseau, the car was rented on March 3rd, 1949 with $5,000 collision. Never mind about that. It was driven to South Charleston, Ohio where it was picked up by our Springfield office on March the 6th, 1940. That's it. Come on, Dooley. Yes, but I don't understand. I don't understand. Don't you want to know anything? It weren't very nice. I was in a hurry. You owe me a buck, besides. Huh? Oh, later, later, later. You're going someplace, good guy? Excuse me. I thought I told you to listen. All right. Flight that cab, Dooley. We're going to get out of here. There was still a lot of things that hadn't dropped into place, but that hunch was working overtime and I had the feeling the answers wouldn't be long coming. We left Scali on the sidewalk and rode uptown to get Dooley's car and taken turns behind the wheel and stopping only for food and gas. We were in South Charleston by noon the next day. When we showed Yink's picture to the guy in the general store, he said he thought he was living in the old Ramsey place four or five miles out of town. Half hour later, we stopped to rise in the road and saw the farm nestling in the valley ahead. And we pulled him to the drive. A figure came out of the house and stood on the porch watching us. Then he went back inside and came out a few minutes later with a shotgun in his hand. I want to talk to you, Yink. Beat it. Everybody get out of this side, baby. Yep. And keep down, just in case. Get out of here, I said. I'm Tom Derubo from the Morning Journal. Remember me, Yink? Leave us alone. What do you mean, us, Yink? I mean, get out of here. You stay here, baby. I want to do his talk to you. Go on back to New York. You remember me, Yink? Put up the gun. That's not going to help. I'll come no closer. I want to talk to you. That's all. So talk. I want to see Maxie. Maxie who? Maxie Reinhardt. He's dead. I don't think he is. He ain't here. I think he is. He ain't here now. I'll wait. He's dead. No, he isn't, Yink. He's in that house right now. Who squealed? Nobody. How'd you find us? Through the accident in the tunnel. You want to see him? Yeah. Come on. It's dark. That's the way he likes it. I got myself a bill up my throat. I'm too heavy. Where is he? Over by the window. Who's he talking to? Nobody. What happened? It was a week before the Murphy fight. For the last couple of years Maxie's walking queer street. I'm after him to get out of the game. But Maxie says no. And one day Scaliot comes up to camp and he says to Maxie, Maxie says I'll make it worth your while to go into the tank with Murphy. And then Maxie never took a dive in his life. Me and Sturley we say do it, Maxie. Do it. Because maybe you'll lose anyway. And that's where you make something up. You got out of the game. You don't get hurt either. So Maxie tells Scaliot okay. But Maxie's a sweet guy and he don't want to hurt nobody, see. The night before the fight he starts thinking about all the little guys, what's got that two bucks on them and he changes his mind. He even tries to tell Scaliot that Scaliot says take a dive or else. So you know what happens. Yeah. He goes down and he wins but he gets his brain scrambled on him. How bad is he? Don't remember nothing about him. What's a doc say? They don't never come back. What about Scaliot? Lost his shape. I'm looking for Maxie but by then we got him out of town. Who's Scaliot? Sturley. Marquette. Al Horst. They all know about it? Sure. Huh. Is that you, Yank? Yeah, it's me, Champ. You want to talk to him? No, let's leave him alone. How do you like it out here in the country, Yank? It's okay, I guess. You miss the city? Yes, I'm getting used to it. Work on the farm the day. Me and the Champlain checkers at night. Ain't bad. Did you use a television set? Huh? Yeah. So long, Yank. Take care of them, huh? Yeah. And... Thanks. What's the story? There is no story. They'll get him sometime. They always do. What are you going to tell Mr. Steele? There are other papers. Even other jobs, I guess. Tom. Do you notice the guy that runs the general store in town? No, no. What about him? Sign said he was also justice of the peace. I thought you said you wanted all the trimmings? I'm getting them. Huh. Women. So One Way Street is the story of a man who learned that the littlest people are often the biggest people. Well friends, if you like Tom's story, why not come back again next week? I'll have a man who found his happiness was on the grounds he knew best, though his ground was ten stories high. I like to call it dangerous glass. So until next week, this is John Steele saying, a life of adventure is yours for the taking, wherever you find it. Only don't look for it. It may find you. Well, goodbye and good hunting. John Steele, adventure is produced by Robert Monroe, written and directed by Elliot Drake. John Larkin was heard as Tom. Also in our cast were Mary Kay Welds, Ross Martin, Phil Stirling and Jack Edwards. John Steele is played by Don Douglas. Musical effects were created by Doc Whipple and Jornalserist Ted Malley. All names and places used in this program are fictitious. Any resemblance to names of actual persons living or dead is coincidental. Remember next week, Mutual presents Dangerous Glass. Another story of suspense and action from the files of John Steele, adventurer. This program came from New York. There's mystery in Mutual's air on Sunday afternoons, too. Mystery from the hard-boiled sleuthing of Martin Cain's private eye to the western adventure tales on the Roy Rogers show. For those with a taste for real-life crime drama, there's true detective mysteries and the shadow brings a strange power to cloud men's minds to the undoing of all criminals. Jack Carter, master detective, unravels another baffling case to its ultimate solution. You'll agree there's no mystery like Mutual's mystery. When you listen to Mutual, the station where you hear the announcer say, this is the Mutual Broadcasting System.