Crime and Peter Chambers.
Created by Henry Kane, transcribed and starring Dane Clark.
Private investigator, duly licensed and duly sworn, Peter Chambers.
You're a private eye.
That's your business.
Anything else?
That's for laughs.
No laughs now because you're working on a case and the case happens to involve a little
matter of murder.
And there ain't no laughs in murder, despite the Broadway playwrights in Arsenic and Old
Lace.
There just ain't no laughs and murder know-how.
Your client is an insurance company that stands to lose 300,000 solid simoleons and you're
down at headquarters at the office of a good friend by name of Detective Lieutenant Louis
Parker.
Frank Reed, wealthy manufacturer of dolls, senior partner in the firm of Reed and Carson.
Dead by reason of an infusion of bullets in the office of his factory on 23rd Street.
Happened last night at 10 o'clock.
Now what's your interest, Peter Pan?
I've been hired by the insurance company, Louis.
What insurance company?
Sampson Indemnity, insured Frank Reed for 150,000.
Double Indemnity, which is 300,000 in case of accidental death.
Frank Reed's brother is beneficiary under that policy.
Correct.
Gent by name, John Reed.
Quite a guy, this John Reed.
Poet, dreamer, highly sophisticated hunk of nothing.
Look Louis, this guy stands to pick up 300,000 big ones.
Frank took out that policy only four days ago, paid one premium.
The company's gonna get stuck and get stuck heavy.
Exactly why have you been hired, Pete?
Well, overall, to help solve this murder.
But if it turns out that John Reed knocked off his brother, the company saves 300,000
bucks.
So, they hire a private eye.
Well, sort of an investment.
All right, what do you want to know?
To coin a phrase, the facts pal, the facts.
See, now the Dow factory's on 23rd, office on the ground floor, windows face out to an
alley.
Now Frank Reed had an appointment with his partner for 10 o'clock yesterday evening,
private business conference.
Windows were open, hot night.
Partner gets there and she finds him-
She?
Did you say she?
Oh, oh.
Sonny, where did you get to that?
She and a gorgeous one.
Viola Carson, young, beautiful, skillful designer.
Junior partner.
Boy, is she-
Okay, okay.
So, she gets there.
Yeah.
When she gets there, according to her, the place shows signs of a terrific struggle.
Frank Reed's on the floor, three bullets in him.
That's her story.
It's all we got, it's her story.
Anything else?
Yeah, the guy's dying.
She revives him.
He comes to him for maybe a minute.
He tells her, according to her, that someone came in through that office window, conked
him from behind.
That he tried to fight him off and then the bullets came.
See, he tried to write a note after his assailant left.
Then this Frank Reed dies in her arms and clutched in his hand as a note.
You got the note?
Yeah, right here.
Here, take a look.
See, uh, it's a little bit of a mess.
See, uh, the cuff link is...
That's the entire note, the cuff link is?
Yeah, that's right.
The cuff link is.
Notice the, uh, scrawl at the end there.
His strength gave out.
He was trying to tell her something, but Lord knows what.
Was he wearing cuff links?
Yeah, he was.
Any connection?
None that we can figure out.
Petey, why don't you go down there and look over, as they say, the scene of the crime?
Factory's closed, but the office is open and that gorgeous partner of his is there.
Well, you talked me into it, pal.
I'll join you there a little later.
Swell.
Oh, by the way, Louie, any special suspects?
Well, if it wasn't some kind of ordinary holdup, the only ones with any interest is John Reed,
this partner, Viola Carson, and then there's John Reed's wife, Linda.
Oh, and a guy she's kind of stuck on, a dancer by the name of Salvatore Cortez.
Here, let me rustle up some of the details for you.
You see, this John Reed is married to a haughty kind of high-type...
Twenty minutes later, you're in the ground floor office of a couple of doll manufacturers,
Reed and Carson.
The alley windows are open, but there's hardly a breath of air coming in.
The walls are lined with shelves holding hundreds of dolls, all the same, the one type of doll
they manufacture.
There's a large desk, and that's cluttered with many papers, and on that there's a doll
too, a sample of the one on the shelves.
But seated at the desk is a real doll.
She's wearing a man-tailored suit, but man-tailoring or no, this one's old woman, blonde, blue-eyed
with soft rose petal lips.
She stands up and the figure she displays adds a sparkling new interest to the matter
at hand.
Yes?
What is it, please?
Are you Viola Carson?
Yes, I'm Miss Carson.
Miss Carson.
That doesn't hurt either.
You tell her who you are and why you're here, and she smiles and dimples and cooperates
splendidly in the question and answer routine.
She corroborates most of the facts that Lieutenant Parker gave you.
And that's about all I know, Mr. Chambers.
Did you read that note that he had in his hand?
Yes, I did.
The cuff link is, and then a scroll.
I just couldn't complete it.
Any ideas on that?
No, sir, none.
I noticed that with that lovely blouse of yours that you wear cufflinks too.
Yes, at the moment I'm wearing cufflinks.
Now you say you were to have a business conference with Frank Reed for ten o'clock last night.
Isn't that an unusual hour for business conferences?
Well, Mr. Chambers...
I wish you'd call me Pete.
Why?
Well, people I like, I like them to call me Pete, and I like you, Viola.
Quick, like that?
That's me, quick as a bunny.
Well, then we have the same natures.
I'm rather precipitated in my likes and dislikes too.
Well, how do you precipitate with me?
I like you.
Well, then, before we start talking about cocktails and candlelight, let's get back
to the detective and suspect routine, shall we, Viola?
It's your party, Peter.
Now about that unusual hour for a business conference...
Oh, there's nothing unusual about that.
We frequently had conferences at that hour.
I see, I see.
Do you know Frank's brother, this John Reed?
I know him very well.
What kind of a guy?
The best I can express it, a character.
You'd have to meet him to understand.
You know his wife?
Linda?
Well, that's her name, I think.
A spectacular brunette.
And one I hope will never call you Pete.
Well, from what I hear, there's small chance.
From what I hear, she's got a guy other than her husband, whom she loves to call by his
first name.
Salvatore Cortez.
You know him too?
He's a flamenco dancer at the Bungle Club.
Aside from being a terrific dancer, he's quite an inventive guy.
It was he who originally gave Frank Reed the idea for this doll we make, this mama doll.
Oh, you mean Frank stole it and this guy bears a grudge, huh?
Oh, no, he was well paid for his idea.
There was no hard feeling between Frank Reed and Cortez.
Well, how about hard feeling between John Reed and Cortez?
None there either.
Well, from what I hear, this Cortez is real palsy-walsy with the guy's wife.
Well, you simply have to meet John Reed to understand that.
I intend to meet John Reed.
Um, look, Mr. Chambers.
Peter, I have got to go now.
You can pick this up with me any time you like.
I'll be home most of this evening.
My address is...
No, your address.
How?
Uh, from the police.
Oh, so.
All right, then.
Au revoir.
You would have loved to have gone with her, but you've got work.
You mess around looking the place over.
You take a doll off the wall shelf and you handle it.
Oh, cute.
Then you look the desk over.
You pick up the doll on the desk.
And suddenly it slips to the floor and you stoop for it when...
Somebody with a pea-shooter in the alley and the target is you.
A look out of the alley window shows you that whoever it is is gone.
Then the door opens.
That sounded like gunshot.
Well, it wasn't backfire, old bean.
Pro or con?
Meaning?
Were you doing the shooting or were you being shot at?
Why?
I don't know.
I don't know.
Maybe I was getting too nosy.
Well, I think I'm through here.
Hey, Louie, look.
Do you think I can sort of steal this little doll and take it home with me, the one here
on the desk?
What's with you and dolls?
They're this kind.
I got a little attachment for this one.
It slipped from my hands.
When I stooped for it, those shots came over my head.
So this little one sort of saved my life.
Sure, sure, anytime you need a carriage or maybe a tricycle or something, just call on
old Louie.
So Papa takes his mama doll back to the apartment.
There you shower, clean up, and then you're off again on the usual routine pitch, checking
on all the principal characters.
It's late when you finally get to John Reed's place, but they should be expecting you.
You called and made an appointment.
Good evening, Mr. Chambers.
I'm Mrs. Linda Reed.
Linda Reed, tall, olive skinned and attractive.
And she greets you with about as much enthusiasm as an Eskimo greets an ice cube and an igloo.
She's wearing an off-the-shoulder evening gown tied to her figure.
And she's got the kind of figure that a dress should be tied to.
Mr. Reed is in his study, napping.
I'll fetch him.
Before you start fetching, Mrs. Reed, a couple of questions, please.
Well, I'm in rather a hurry.
About Frank Reed, deceased.
Was he married?
Nobody's told me.
He was a widower.
Two children, both grown, both living in Paris.
But he had brothers and sisters.
Only John, my husband.
He was the only brother.
Only other relatives, in fact.
Did they get along, John Reed and Brother Frank?
Well, let me put it this way.
Frank adored John as witnessed the life insurance policy in his favor.
On the other hand, John absolutely abhorred Frank.
Abhorred?
But why?
Because my husband abhors anything or anyone who is dull.
And he found Frank a stuffy bore.
I see.
Uh, your husband is a poet of sorts, isn't he?
Well, let us say a writer.
Do you sell many things?
John?
Oh, no, nothing commercial about any of John Reed's work.
Then where's the... where would it all come from?
Oh, Frank was always very kind.
As I said, he adored John, actually admired his peculiarities.
I'll fetch him now, if you'll please, Mr. Chambers.
She goes down a corridor and disappears.
And you move about looking things over in the world furnished room when...
And you start going in the direction of the shots.
When a tall, blond man with sleepy blue eyes comes toward you.
Are you the alleged detective?
Yes, yes, I suppose...
Mr. Chambers, isn't it?
Yes, right.
Now look, what was that noise about?
Well, I imagine you'd serve a better purpose in there.
My study, gunplay, clues and whatnot.
Mrs. Reed?
Mrs. Reed?
Oh, yes?
Those shots, what were they?
It was somebody out there, on the fire escape.
Well, did you see who it was?
No, and whoever it was is gone now.
He ran down the fire escape.
Oh, man or woman?
I couldn't tell.
I saw somebody, but I couldn't tell.
Oh, that's too bad.
Well, let's get out of the shooting gallery and go back out there and talk to your husband.
Well, have you two apprehended the misguided soul who attempted my murder?
What do you know about it, Mr. Reed?
You are John Reed.
Yes, I am, and I know nothing about it.
I was just opening my eyes from a delicious dream.
As far as I know, it could have been my dear wife attempting the assassination of her beloved
husband.
I wouldn't put it past her.
Notoriously, poor Sartreau.
Well, as long as we're all safe and sound, I'm a little late.
Oh, yes, of course.
Well, off you go, my dear Linda, and my best to Mr. Cortez.
Good evening, then.
That was Salvatore Cortez I was referring to.
My wife is quite enamored of him.
A high ball, Mr. Chambers.
No, thank you.
Look, don't our modern poets indulge themselves in the ancient emotion of jealousy, Mr. Reed?
Yes, they do, I suppose, and they do not.
Speaking for myself, no jealousy.
Oh, I should explain, of course, that my wife and I cordially detest one another.
I see.
And now that the howling clatter of pistols has subsided, I do wish you'd state your business,
Mr. Chambers.
Well, sir, as you know, I represent the insurance company.
Yes, and they have some absurd idea that I murdered Frank in order to fall heir to $300,000.
Well, sir, it's a pretty good idea.
That, in time, I am sure I'd have come around to thinking about it.
But I didn't, that's final.
Any idea who did?
None, whatever.
Any idea who just took potshots at you?
Same answer.
I'll say this for you, you're amazingly unruffled.
Well, I'm a fatalist, Mr. Chambers.
My philosophy is that of the ancient Indians' predestination.
To put it in modern and laconic terms, when my number is up, it is up.
I'm always singularly free of worry.
Okay, let's change the subject.
Now, your wife...
Ah, beautiful woman, isn't she?
Well, I mean your wife and this Salvatore Cortez.
Great dancer, that young man.
Performs at the Bongo Club.
That's where she went.
No, no, no.
What I mean is, what you...
Mr. Chambers, your reaching and your attempt to be tactful, there's no reason for that.
None whatever.
If she's in love with him, just between you and me, I don't give one little toot in Hades.
Now, if you please, a very good evening to you, sir.
Next stop, the Bongo Club.
From there, you phone to Viola Carson that you'll see her later.
And then you lap up some scotch at the bar and you watch the Salvatore Cortez perform.
The guy's dark, slender and graceful, wrapped up in tight black pants and a white silk shirt
and banging his heels against the floor like he's sending out Morse code messages.
When he's through, he joins Linda at a secluded table, which turns out to be not so secluded
because you sort of mosey over.
Now, Mr. Chambers, really, this is too much.
Oh, you are the Mr. Chambers Mrs. Green has been telling me?
Now, look, Buster, for me, you don't have to make with that phony Spanish accent.
But I do not understand.
I will not have you speak this way to me.
Come on, come over, will you, pal?
I've done a little back checking.
Your name is Sam Cortland.
You were born in Brooklyn.
Now, how do we get it, straight or phony?
How can you get it straight, Mr. Sloot?
Straight is like this.
Beat it.
Sonny, unless you talk nice, I'm going to yank you up by your little lily white shirt
and maybe paste you up against that wall.
What do you want?
Just a little chatter.
Don't let him intimidate you, Salvatore.
The name is Sam.
Didn't you hear me?
I know what his name is.
Okay, what do you want?
Answers to a couple of questions, civil answers.
All right, all right, let's have them.
You wear cufflinks?
Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.
You wear cufflinks last night.
Last night, I don't remember.
I don't remember putting it in my diary.
Oh, you're very funny.
Next question.
Where were you last night between 9.30 and 10?
In my apartment.
Can you prove that?
I don't have to, pal.
If it doesn't suit you, you prove I wasn't.
You won't cooperate, huh?
Words of one syllable?
No.
What am I wasting my time for?
That's your time.
It's my time that you're wasting that bothers me.
You keep making with the crack, Sonny, and sooner or later, I'm going to rearrange that
phony pussy of yours.
Now, please, Mr. Chambers.
You grab a cab to Viola Carson's place, and a cute little hideaway she's got.
Terrace and stuff.
Exactly the spot for cocktails and candlelight.
And she's most gracious.
Oh, won't you sit down, Peter.
Is there anything new on Frank's death?
Any clues?
Any ideas?
There is something beating around the back of my head, but I can't put my finger on it.
It's a funny case.
Somebody running around taking potshots at everybody, even me.
Please, please sit down, Peter.
All right.
Ah, good.
Wait, I'll take that doll off the chair.
It's one of ours.
That's it.
What?
Sweetheart, I think I've got it.
Where's your phone?
You call down to Parker and you ask him to round up the entire cast of characters and
bring them to your apartment.
And there, with Parker's cops making a blue-coated semicircle and back with the principals, you
go to work with the two dolls, the ones in Viola's place and the one you took off Frank
Reed's desk.
And now, Peter Chambers, the gentleman with the dolls, is not going to do an Edgar Bergen
or a Paul Winchell.
Peter Chambers is going to do Peter Chambers.
Thank you, Lieutenant.
Now, first, ladies and gentlemen, the regular doll.
Listen please.
And now, the doll I took off Frank Reed's desk.
Listen.
Do you know the difference?
Mr. Chambers, if you're so set on playing with dolls, I have a suggestion.
Oh, shut up.
Go write yourself a poem or something.
Just a minute, Louie.
Louie, easy, Louie.
Ladies and gentlemen, the regular doll.
Now, the doll from Frank Reed's desk.
Now, there must be a reason for the vocal restriction of the second doll.
There must be something jamming up the sound box.
Sure.
This doll just says, ma, and the other says, ma, ma.
Hey, you know, you sound cute, Louie.
Oh, I don't shoot.
Now, let's get back to the unfinished note that Frank Reed wrote.
The cuff link is, and then he passed out before he could finish it.
Now, let's figure it this way.
There was a tussle.
He tore off his assailant's cuff link and he put it somewhere.
And he tried to write out a note as to just where he did put it so that the killer would
be identified.
Now, it's my hunch that it's in the innards of this doll.
So I unscrew the head and I dig in like so.
And I come up with a cuff link with initials SC.
SC for Salvatore Cortez or even for Sammy Cortland.
What about that Sammy?
Why, I never saw it.
I don't think about it.
Did you get the picture, Louie?
You see, this Brooklyn tamale bumps off Frank Reed.
So John Reed latches on to 300,000.
Then he's going to bump John, which explains the shooting off that fire escape.
So then dear old Linda latches on to the said 300,000 and then Linda and Salvatore.
Linda, she talked me into it.
That's a lie.
It was all his idea.
We were going to get married, Linda and I, but it was her idea.
She talked me into it.
It's just the reverse.
He talked me into it.
I don't care who talked who into what.
Just keep on talking, Mr. Flamenco.
Just a minute, Louie.
Just a minute.
Look, Sal, what about me?
Why should I be part of your private shooting gallery?
Well, after I got out of there, I realized my cuff link was missing.
Right in the place was lousy with cops and I couldn't go back.
But after a day, I knew they didn't have it.
How'd you know?
Well, I had my initials on it.
As long as I wasn't arrested, I knew they didn't have it.
And then?
The day I came back for it, you were in the office.
I saw you with that doll in your hands and I heard it, as you said, vocally restricted.
Then I knew where that cuff link was.
I've had experience with dolls.
The idea for this type of doll was mine.
I used my gun.
You dropped in time.
Okay, you two, let's go.
And so Parker links up with his culprits and heads for downtown.
And you link up with the lovely Viola Carson and head for cocktails and candlelight.
And there you've had Crime and Peter Chambers.
Dane Clark was starred as Peter Chambers.
Crime and Peter Chambers was created and written by Henry Kane.
Others in the cast were Bill Zuckert, heard as Lieutenant Parker, Bill Griffiths as John
Reed and Leslie Wood as Viola.
It was directed by Fred Way.
This is Fred Collins inviting you to tune in next week's Same Time, Same Station for
Dane Clark in Crime and Peter Chambers.
And The Captain.
Be with us again next week at this same time for another adventure by Peter Chambers in
Crime and Peter Chambers.
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