Crime and Peter Chambers.
Created by Henry Kane, transcribed and starring Dane Clark.
A private investigator, duly licensed and duly sworn, Peter Chambers.
You're a private eye.
That's your business.
Anything else, that's for laughs.
In a lot of laughs tonight, you were pub crawling during the visiting firemen bit at the taverns
and the beast roads.
You're on your way home now and you're going to stop off at Krauss' new stand for the papers.
Old man Krauss, he's been there as long as you can remember.
And then you see the commotion.
Somebody's working the old man over, beating him to the ground.
You get there as fast as you can.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, it's you, Mr. Chambers.
Thank the Lord.
Easy, easy, does it, Mr. Krauss.
Come here, come here.
Come on, let me help you up.
Up.
There you are.
Did you see him, Mr. Chambers?
Did you see who it was?
No, he ran off as he saw me coming.
Did you get a look at him, Mr. Krauss?
No, I was just closing.
He hit me from behind and then he jumped me.
But why you?
Where does a man like you fit in with a beating?
It was more than that, Mr. Chambers, more than a beating.
What are you talking about?
Whoever it was wanted to kill me.
Why, you're a peaceful man, Mr. Krauss, a thoughtful, peaceful, philosophical man.
Everybody loves you.
It seems not everybody.
Well, look, I'm going home with you.
No, no, no, no, I'm taking you home.
You need not bother, Mr. Chambers.
I am not afraid.
Come along, come along now, Mr. Krauss.
Thank you, thank you.
You are very kind.
He doesn't live far and he's none the worse for his experience.
You get him home and he's fumbling with the key and the old fashioned lock.
So these old eyes are not what they used to be.
There, please follow me, Mr. Chambers.
I will put the light on.
But he doesn't have a chance to put the light on.
Neither of you have a chance to do a thing.
Guy who was inside waiting for Krauss, he was in a dark room, but he was facing the
light of the hallway.
And that was all to the good.
He couldn't see much of you or of Krauss, just your silhouettes, but you could see him.
And better than that, you recognized him.
Maybe Krauss didn't know who his assailant was, but you did.
Well, he's gotten clean away, so there's nothing to do now but find the light switch
and look to Mr. Krauss.
Come on, Mr. Krauss.
Mr. Krauss.
You all right?
Yeah.
Now look, I'll get a towel and some water.
Just there we are.
Sure.
Right there on the floor.
Sure.
I don't think you're hurt very badly.
There.
It's nothing.
It's nothing at all.
It's a scratch, a bullet crease.
Ah, you're as good as new.
Once more, let me help you up.
Be my guest.
Yes.
Lucky, pretty lucky.
Twice in one night, and I'm still around to talk about it.
I will sit here.
Good.
Why, somebody should want to kill me.
Maybe a month ago, but not now.
What's that?
A month ago what?
You ever hear of Big Benny Larson?
Who hasn't?
Big Benny, big goon.
Well, there was a fight one night in front of my newsstand.
Big Benny knifed a man, Mr. Snufnose Ancelino.
I saw it all.
Oh.
While Mr. Snufnose was in the hospital and they were wondering whether he would live,
the police assigned protection to me because I was the only witness.
Then Mr. Snufnose pulled through and he didn't press charges and Big Benny was released and
the protection of police was taken away.
There's no reason anymore for Big Benny to harm me.
Then who else?
I have no idea, Mr. Chambers.
Look, you ever hear of the dancer?
The dancer?
Slick Hood from Chicago.
His name is Dancic or something, but they call him the dancer.
I have never been to Chicago, Mr. Snufnose.
One of those tall, slender, handsome guys.
Beautiful, but deadly is the front end of a loaded gun.
Oh, murder that one for the ladies.
But what does this have to do with...
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Just started a train of thought.
Now look, Mr. Krauss, you're going to the police with him.
No, no, no.
I've had enough of police.
I have a gun and a license for it.
Now listen, I...
I am not afraid.
It is only that I do not understand it.
Do you have a family, Mr. Krauss?
Just a daughter, an adopted daughter, Irene.
She is married now to a lawyer, Frank Buckley.
Well, you're going to tell her about this?
No.
Why not?
Well, we are not really friends anymore.
She has gone away from me.
I hardly see her anymore.
Well, you mind if I talk with her?
Well, I cannot stop you.
Well, that sort of wraps it up, I suppose.
Look, I'm getting out of here, Mr. Krauss, but you bolt that door after me and use that
gun if you have to.
Thank you.
Thank you very much, Mr. Chambers.
And please do not worry about me.
But you do worry.
You go home and you try to sleep, but it tampers with your dreams.
Where is the connection?
Why should a dull boy like the dancer be looking to eradicate a peaceful citizen?
The old man said he never heard of him, and you believe Krauss.
You sleep finally, but it's like sleeping under a winking neon light.
And in the morning, you're looking up an address in the phone book.
Frank Buckley.
It's on 57th Street, and it turns out to be a combination of home and office.
A lawyer that's plugging at his business.
Nothing more.
No rich, big estate guy.
Yes, Mr. Chambers, please sit down.
Make yourself comfortable.
Mr. Buckley, bald, thin, angular, 50ish, a lot of loose skin hanging under his jowls.
Would you like a cigarette, Mr. Chambers?
No, no, thank you.
Not now.
Mr. Buckley, it's really your wife I want to talk to.
So?
Why?
Well, sir, I'm a private detective.
Private detective?
This is not in the line of business.
I'm a friend of an elderly gentleman, a Mr. Krauss.
Oh, yes, yes.
My wife's father.
Well, an attempt was made on his life last night.
He won't go to the police with it, and I thought perhaps if I talk with Krauss'
daughter, your wife...
My wife and I have been separated for the past six months.
Oh.
She's already instituted a divorce proceeding.
I'm sorry to hear that.
But in a matter like this, she's now living at Eastburn Apartments on 74th.
Thank you, sir.
How is the old man?
Working as always.
Well, he won't have to work long.
He'll be quite independent in a short...
Old man Krauss, independent?
You mean rich or something?
How come?
I'm sorry, slip of the tongue, sir, a matter of my profession.
Attorney and client.
Privilege, communication.
Okay, okay, with me.
All I want her to know is where I could reach Irene, Mrs. Buckley.
Yes, of course.
And if there's anything I can do for the old gentleman, please don't hesitate.
All right, then.
Good morning, Mr. Buckley.
And a very good morning to you, sir.
Next stop, Eastburn Apartments.
Not too swanky, not too slummy, about in the middle.
But the occupant of apartment 7G.
Nothing in the middle about that one.
The word is gorgeous.
Not soft gorgeous or mushy gorgeous, but hard like granite.
Glittering gorgeous, like a diamond.
But gorgeous nonetheless.
Well, ain't you the handsome one?
Mrs. Buckley?
I'm using my maiden name, Irene Cordone.
I thought it was Krauss.
Should have been, but it ain't.
I was in show business before I got married.
How would you like this?
And now, ladies and gentlemen, Miss Irene Krauss.
Black hair, black eyes, and a loose red mouth.
Young and quite a figure.
She's wearing high heel lounging shoes, white shorts, and a white bandana.
And that's about it.
Like a drink, Mr. Mr.
Chambers, Peter Chambers.
Do you like it?
Little drinky, handsome?
Well, it's a little too early in the morning for me.
Oh?
Look, Miss Cordone.
I wish you'd talk to your father, Father.
Oh.
What's with him?
A couple of attempts were made on his life last night.
The old man?
Somebody, somebody near to him ought to tell him one of two things.
Like what?
Either he goes to the police, or he kind of stays holed up.
At least until this thing clears.
What's your interest?
I'm a friend.
Well, if you're such a good friend, why don't you tell him?
I've told him, but he's stubborn.
Stubborn with you, stubborn with me.
Furthermore, the old man and I.
Well, we kind of don't see eye to eye anymore.
When did you see him last?
I haven't seen him since I broke up with my husband.
Maybe six months.
Been in Chicago, maybe five months of that.
Only got back a few weeks ago.
I still think you ought to talk to him.
Quite a busybody, aren't you?
Well, some say yes, some say no.
But you're cute, I'll say that.
You know, I'm a sucker for a good looking man.
Are you sure you won't join me in a drink?
Some other time, sister.
Oh, make it soon, brother.
Sure, sure.
I'll be expecting you.
A man eater, that Irene Cordoney Buckley Krause.
You take your leave, slightly reluctant, but you take your leave.
You figure you've done your bit and you've got your own work to attend to.
Like pulling open the office window and letting the air in and looking over the mail.
But you detour to pick up the papers at Krause's.
But Krause's new stand is closed.
So you're on your white horse again, making for Krause's apartment.
Come in, Mr. Chambers.
Just got back myself.
Where have you been, Mr. Krause?
A funeral.
Funeral?
The old lady, Regina Kent.
You must have known the old lady.
Regina Kent, her funeral?
Yeah.
Well, look, you can't take that so hard.
She must have been past 90 years of age.
Death must come, Mr. Krause, sooner or later.
Sure, but not by murder.
The old lady?
Look, you're not making sense, Mr. Krause.
It is sense.
I wish it wasn't.
When did it happen?
Couple of days ago.
She was coming from the movies.
Bang!
Shots in the head.
You mean a mugger, a thief, one of those things?
Nothing was stolen.
She was killed.
The kind old lady killed, meaningless, for no reason.
She was a good friend of yours, wasn't she, Mr. Krause?
Yes, yes.
Twenty years she is a customer.
And many evenings we talk and talk for hours.
A fine, wonderful old lady.
And rich, too.
Reputed to be worth, oh, maybe half a million.
Richest, my boy, is in the heart.
Well, it doesn't hurt in a pocketbook, either.
That is true, too.
Hey, wait a minute.
You're not quite as impractical as you sound.
Didn't you once tell me that you recommended a lawyer to her?
If she didn't think you had a practical size, she wouldn't have asked your advice for a
lawyer.
Yes, yes.
It's a long time ago.
And my son-in-law, Frank Buckley, and she was very satisfied, remained his client all
the way till now.
And what about your problem, Mr. Krause?
Problems?
Me?
Well, last night.
Ah, crazy people, crackpots.
Somebody must be making a mistake.
Now, look, you're not going back to work, are you?
Sure, I'm not afraid, Mr. Chambers, not at all.
And do not worry, you see.
I carry, how do you call it, the neutralizer.
I have it from the first war yet.
And you're not going to talk to the cops about it?
No, no.
Do not worry about old Krause.
Ah, you are a good, kind man, Mr. Chambers.
So the good, kind man starts minding his own business.
You go to the office and pull up the window, let the air in, and read your mail.
Then you listen to the ballgame.
Then you call downtown to headquarters to detect Lieutenant Parker, but they tell you
he's out of town and will be back until 10 in the evening.
Client falls in and you're busy for the rest of the day, and pretty soon it's nighttime,
after 10.
And you're at headquarters because that Krause thing is buzzing around in your head like
it's a beehive.
Well, always a pleasure, Mr. Private Eye.
You bring the breath of springtime into this dank old office, or is that the breath of
scotch?
Detective Lieutenant Louis Parker, aces all the way.
Good friend, good cop, good companion.
Well, seriously, Pete, you look a little worried.
Something I can do for you?
Maybe...
Just tell Papa Parker anything to get the creases out of your fart.
Old man Krause.
The guy who owns the new stand-up, Joey?
Yeah, has he got anything to fret about?
Like what?
Big Benny Larson or his goons?
No, not a thing.
Snuff-nose Angelino is a rabbit, afraid to sign a complaint.
Puts Big Benny in the clear and Benny's not looking to make trouble for the old man.
Benny makes trouble only when he has to.
That's one worry off my mind.
Oh, you got more?
Got a little curiosity.
Fire away, friend.
Regina Kent.
Little old tame, 90 years of age, gets knocked off with a bullet in her brain and strictly
a professional job.
Real peculiar deal.
Has it got any angles?
No, not yet it ain't.
Unless you call bafflement an angle.
You got an idea about the torpedo?
We got better than that.
Got a full and perfect description.
Now what's holding you back?
I haven't got anybody that fits the full and perfect description.
This is confidential, Pete.
Of course, Louis.
We got a witness to that Regina Kent killing that nobody knows about.
Not even the newspapers.
A lady by the name of Benson.
Benson?
She was sitting in her bedroom.
It was dark.
She couldn't sleep.
Happens to have the next apartment to this Regina Kent.
She saw our torpedo?
Saw him clear and saw him long.
He was hanging around for quite a time waiting for the old lady.
Mrs. Benson kept watching him.
Then when Regina Kent appeared, she saw the actual shooting.
Saw him jump into a car and drive off.
And she looked over your rogue's gallery.
Looked over everything.
Most cooperative.
Burnished us a full description, ready to identify the guy whenever we pick him up.
Let's hear that description, Louis.
Well, he's a good looking boy about six feet tall.
Parker talks and your heart starts rapping at your chest like a fist on a door.
Because what you're listening to is a perfect description of the dancer.
I wonder if they can't find a guy to fit the description.
This is a Chicago guy, a guy who was never arrested, never printed, never mugged.
What are you getting excited about, Petey?
Stick around, pal.
Why?
I may be of some help.
So why should I stick around?
Why shouldn't I go with you?
Because that's the way I want it, this trip.
Oh, the private eye and his various moods.
Okay, detective, I stick around.
What do I stick around for?
Phone call.
From me.
I'd like a little more dope.
I'd love a little more dope.
Your friend Krauss, he's gonna be rich.
Ah, it's the second time I've heard that.
This time it's authentic.
Regina Kent made a will.
She leaves all her dough to charity except $200,000.
I guess who gets that?
I give up.
Oh, man, Krauss, yeah.
200,000 solid smackers.
But remember, it's still confidential.
The will ain't been probated yet.
We got to see it on police business.
See, there's gotta be a lawyer.
Huh?
Who made that will for her?
Who was the lawyer?
A guy by the name of Frank Buckley.
That's it.
Goodbye, Louis.
Hey, what's your hurry?
Where are you going?
I-
So, back to 57th Street.
You rouse Frank Buckley out of his dreams and you set him up on the facts.
He tries to make with the legal palaver, but you shake him out of it.
And finally you throw him the jackpot question.
Did your wife know about Regina Kent's will?
Well, I-
Unanswer me, Mr. Buckley.
Yes, yes.
I told her when the old lady originally made the will.
I thought it'd please her to know that someday her foster father...
After all, she was my wife then. We were living together, husband and wife.
Next stop, Eastburn Apartments.
And the lady herself answers.
She's wearing tight silk slacks and a tight silk blouse in her hands.
You shove in before she got a chance to shove you out.
You asked me to come back, remember? You said you'd be expecting me.
Well, you're a little premature, sweetie. Right now I'm expecting my future husband.
The dancer, huh? Well, he sent me with a message.
Messages, messages. He's due here any minute and he sends me...
Hey, how do you know about the dancer? What are you doing here anyway?
Patching up with a little hunk of murder.
Get out, get out!
Relax, lady.
You get out before I fling this glass at you!
You'll fling what?
She misses, but it gives you the excuse to do what you were going to do anyway.
You clip her under the chin, not too hard, just enough.
And she sighs and slides to the floor.
Then you go into action with the adhesive bit.
The underworld teaches the upper world a lot of little tricks.
You find the tape in the medicine cabinet and you wrap her wrist behind it.
Tie her ankles tight and put a gag across her mouth.
You carry her to the bedroom and lock the door...
and then you're back in the living room and you're waiting for a murderer.
You open the door for the dancer and you hit him first.
And you pull him in afterwards.
Then you take his gun away from him and you slap him back to consciousness.
What?
Come on, Eric.
What's going on, Eric?
Nothing, nothing except a little chit-chat before you get hauled off.
Hulled off where?
First, police headquarters.
And after that there's a hot little chair up at Sing Sing.
Why, you...
Careful, fella, careful.
You're looking at your own gun.
And I take it, it's loaded.
Who the devil are you?
I'm a busybody by the name of Chambers.
Nemesis to you.
So what's it all about?
One, the murder of an old lady, Regina Kent.
Two, the attempted murder of old man Krauss.
You're nuts.
I got a witness by the name of Benson who says I ain't...
Why should I want to bump an old woman?
All right, let me tell you.
A doll by the name of Irene Cordoni shows up in Chicago a few months ago.
She goes for good-looking guys and you're a good-looking guy.
You're also a hard guy and she makes you a proposition.
Like what?
Like this.
She knows from her former husband that an old lady made a will
leaving 200,000 clamps to old man Krauss.
Krauss happens to be this doll's foster father.
He's got no other family but hers.
So if the old dame Regina Kent, if she dies,
old man Krauss gets 200,000.
But if after that he dies,
dear old Irene Cordoni Krauss,
she inherits from him.
So the doll propositions the dancer,
knock the two of them off in that order,
first the old dame, then the old man,
then the doll and the dancer get married.
And they live pretty good.
And they can pay their rent for quite a while with 200,000 dollars.
Yeah, good story, but go prove it.
Don't start bullying me about no Benson who's a witness.
I'm bullying you, kiddo.
Sure I'm bullying you.
Let me show you how I'm bullying you.
See?
First you pull the phone over like so.
Then you dial O for operator like so.
Then you say like so into the phone.
Police, quickly!
And so a few days later,
you're back at Krauss's newsstand.
You see, Mr. Chambers, I do not wear the gun anymore.
Well, there's no need.
And I see by your papers that the grand jury's already indicted those two.
First degree murder.
Ah, people are so crazy.
You, uh, gone to retire on that 200,000?
Me, retire?
I die.
No, maybe a few vacations perhaps.
But Krauss works, Krauss loves to work.
By the way, Mr. Chambers,
there would be a fee for you.
Certainly you did fine work.
You will send a bill, huh?
Send a large.
No, no, no, no, no bill, Mr. Krauss.
This one was on the house.
Oh, I'm tired.
I think I'll take the news and mirror and so to bed.
With the news and mirror?
And there you've had crime and Peter Chambers.
Dane Clark was starred as Peter Chambers.
Crime and Peter Chambers Transcribed was created and written by Henry Kane.
Others in the cast were Bill Zuckert, heard as Lieutenant Parker,
Guy Rep as Krauss, and Rita Lynn as Irene.
It was directed by Fred Way.
And this is Fred Collins inviting you to tune in next week, same time, same station,
for Dane Clark in Crime and Peter Chambers.
Thank you.
Crime and Peter Chambers has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.
The United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.