Mystery House.
Mystery House. That strange publishing firm owned by Dan and Barbara Glenn,
where each new novel is acted out by the Mystery House staff before it is accepted for publication.
Mystery House.
Well, you know, Mystery House has never published a baseball novel, Barbie.
If we can catch the baseball fans and the mystery fans, we really have something.
Well, this baseball story we're trying out tonight has some good mystery elements to it,
and also an exciting baseball game.
Yeah, does somebody kill the umpire?
I'm not saying who gets killed. You'll see.
So I wonder why it is everybody at a ball game always yells, kill the umpire.
Oh, that's easy, Tom, because his word is law.
You have to take his decisions whether you like them or not.
Of course, Mr. Glenn. That's one of the few places in America where you are not allowed to make your own decisions.
Now with us, it's a question of stating your case simply and briefly.
The rest is up to our listeners. For example.
Glaciers, everybody. Set the scene, will you, Tom?
Bases loaded.
Tonight's story opens in the locker room of a baseball club.
It's mid-morning. Woody Sander's star pitcher is rubbing his arm as another member of the team walks in.
Hi, Woody.
Oh, hi, Gabe. Just dropped in to limber up the arm a little this morning.
I'm going to pitch this game if it's only to give that louse Garson a load of what I think of him.
Well, the old suit bone's kind of tied up.
Well, go easy on the workout, Woody. You want to watch yourself.
Oh, for Pete's sake, Gabe. All I'm going to do is throw a few balls to get rid of the jitters.
Sure, sure. I know.
If we win, it moves us into first place.
Garson's got a lot of dough up. We don't win.
Yeah, he must have a lot of dough up.
Offered me 10 Gs, 10,000 bucks to toss a game away.
Has Garson seen you again?
Yeah, just before I came in.
Ten grand. Boy, I could use that kind of dough.
You mean you think I should have took it?
If you keep on trying to get Jenny to marry your kid, you'll need that kind of dough.
I don't take that kind of chances for anybody, not even Jenny.
Jenny's got what the sports writers call the money touch.
Still sore about me beating your time, Gabe?
Me? She's all your son and I wish you luck.
Oh, what do you want, Artie? Look what crept in, Woody. Our number one fan.
Greetings, boys. I just bought by to boost your morale.
You feeling good, Woody? Think you can set him down this afternoon?
Listen, punk, even a bug like you don't rate the locker room. This is private. Beat it.
Oh, yeah? The Swede wouldn't like it if I was to tell him you bounced me from here.
So the Swede ain't here and we're telling you to scram.
What do you mean he ain't here? Why, I just left him here.
He sent me out to see a guy for him.
You heard what Gabe said, didn't you? The Swede ain't here.
Well, he's got to be here. He told me to meet him here so...
Yeah, I bet.
Well, he had me take a message to Gar... to a guy.
You started to say Garcin, Artie. What was the message?
Um, nothing.
Did it have anything to do with the game, Artie? Anything like making a deal to lose?
The Swede? Say, listen, all I know is I was supposed to tell Garcin to meet the Swede here.
Only... only what? I couldn't find Garcin.
Woody, you don't suppose the Swede's throwing this ballgame, do you?
Making a deal with Garcin.
He's probably turned him over to the commissioner.
The Swede's the best manager in baseball. Him throw a game?
Ha! Don't make me laugh.
That's telling him, Woody.
How long you been hanging around here, Artie?
Only a minute. And the Swede was here.
I was standing over by his locker talking to him and he sent me to find Garcin.
And, well, I tried to find him, but I couldn't find the guy.
So I came back like the Swede said to.
Well, he ain't here. If he was, his locker would be open, wouldn't it?
Well, maybe he's out in a diamond-figuring strategy or something.
Maybe we ought to open his locker and see if the street clothes are in it.
How do we open it? We don't know the combination.
I know it.
You know the combination? How come?
Oh, he gave it to me so I could get stuff for him.
Ha! You're practically running the team, ain't you?
Ah, quit that stuff. I know the combination I'll show you, see?
Let's see now. Seven, 14, three.
Ha! You're bluffing. It won't come open.
Oh, no? See?
No!
It's the Swede. Dead.
Yeah. With a hole in his head.
Jenny, lay off. There's no use arguing.
I'm going to pitch my darners this afternoon.
I might lose, but it won't be because I was laying down.
Sure. Go right ahead. Be a dumb ball player all your life.
What's going to be left of it after Garson gets through with you?
Who are you trying to scare?
Oh, don't be so dumb, Woody.
Can't you see? Garson means business.
He's going to win his bets if he has to kill people to do it.
You think Garson killed him, huh?
Oh, probably not Garson.
Some of the boys from his gambling syndicate more likely.
And if you pitch this afternoon without being nice, they'll try to get you.
Oh, nuts. This is a ball game you're talking about, Jenny, in the ballpark.
With maybe 30,000 people around.
You think anybody would try murder in front of that many people?
Okay, go ahead. You're a smart guy. You know all the answers.
I've been knocked out of the box, baby, but nobody ever scared me out.
I'm not scaring you. I'm telling you.
You could be a dead ball player.
Cut it out. I'm pitching.
To win?
I ought to slap your face for that, Jenny.
I never pitched any other way.
Even if it means you and I are through?
What are you talking about?
You heard me.
You wouldn't walk out on me just because I stayed honest.
You're walking out on me.
Jenny, get a hold of yourself. Just because a Swede got killed...
Sure, he got killed.
And the police ought to know right now that Garson's boys did it.
But they won't catch him because he's too smart.
Too smart for the police and too smart for a dumb ball player.
I'm no crook.
If the Swede hasn't reported Garson to the commission, I'm going to.
Sure. Be big and brave.
And you know what you'll get for it, don't you?
A pat on the back and a slug in the head.
Oh, Garson ain't concentrating on me.
Wake up, stupid.
You're the guy with the stuff.
The fireball artist.
The toughest pitcher on the team.
If he can get rid of you, the ball game's in the bag.
You think one pitcher can win a ball game single-handed?
Jenny, you're funny.
Go ahead and laugh then while you can.
Blake, I know you're the police, but we got a ball game to play.
I ought to be out there right now warming up.
Yeah? Well, maybe I'll warm you up a little, Woody.
Sweet Benson was murdered.
You and Gabe were the only people around the locker room.
The only ones you know, you mean.
You think we'd have been there if we'd have killed the Swede?
Get Garson. He's the murderer.
I told you he tried to bribe me to lose the game so I could click a lot of dough.
What do you need?
Maybe Blake's afraid of Garson, Woody.
Maybe Garson's got too much pull.
Why, you...
Look, we're watching Garson. Don't worry about that.
And Woody, your story about Garson sounds good.
You had a motive of your own and it'd make a pretty nice cover-up.
Listen, Blake, there was no reason in the world why I should murder Swede Benson.
He was a good manager and he treated me okay.
You're ambitious, aren't you, Woody?
You'd like to be manager of the club yourself, wouldn't you?
Why, you listen up...
Yeah, you'll behave yourself.
I can throw you into jail, chum, anytime I want to on suspicion of murder.
Why don't you go ahead and do it?
That'd leave your friend Garson a better chance of collecting his bets.
Woody, don't get the guy sore.
You too and this nut Artie were in the locker room when Swede Benson's body was found.
Artie showed up and found you two together.
Woody, you'd have been there alone when Gabe showed up, right?
Well, yeah, but...
Right. The coroner says Swede has been dead less than an hour when the body was found.
Say 45 to 50 minutes.
You and Gabe were talking together about a half an hour.
That leaves 10 to 15 minutes of time for you to kill Swede and stuff his body into the locker.
Yeah, listen, I got there just a minute before Gabe.
And you can prove it, I suppose. Where were you before?
I'd been to see Jenny.
Blake, you're all wrong. Woody couldn't have...
If he didn't kill the Swede, he ought to be able to prove it then.
He's the one suspect who was on the spot at the time of the murder.
What about that guy Artie? He was running in and out of the locker room all the time.
No, Woody, that's a little far-fetched. No motive.
Or maybe you can give me one.
Me? Look, all I know is I didn't do it.
Sure, sure. You know something, Woody?
I've had that answer before from murderers.
Woody's no killer.
In my business, Gabe anybody's a murderer until you learn different.
Nice trusting guy.
But say, we got to get out to the ballpark. Woody's got to warm up.
Okay, boys, okay. Play a nice game.
But don't try any steals. You'll be washed.
Yes, sir, folks. One of the tightest ball games of the season.
Right up to now, there hasn't been the slightest lull in the game.
The one thing that everybody's been keeping their fingers crossed about hasn't happened.
Woody Sanders is still in there pitching in spite of the pressure, in spite of being held under suspicion of murder.
Yes, sir, he's been pitching a terrific game, really blazing the ball right in there.
If anything, Woody seems to be inspired today, and the rest of the team's backing him up with their tight ball.
I talked to some of the boys before the game, and they seem to feel that they're playing this one for Swede Benson,
trying to put the team into first place to make up for his murder.
Well, it's the last half for the Knights, and Woody's got a one-run lead, but the bases are loaded
as a result of two singles and an intentional pass.
They're two out, and if Woody can take care of this pinch-hitter coming up to bat, he's in.
But it's still anybody's ball game.
Woody dusts his hands on the rosin bag. Now he steps down to the mound and gets his sign.
He looks like he has murder in his heart. There's the wind-up, and the pitch.
Styrack won!
Gabe Stewart trots over from short and gives Woody a pat on the back.
Still three men on and two out. Woody still has that murderous look on his face.
Now he's set. Here's the pitch. Ball one, low and outside.
Caster fires the ball out to the pitcher. Now Woody steps back onto the mound.
He's taking plenty of time now. Wind-up, the pitch, strike two!
If he can sneak one more across the plate, the game's over.
He's printing now. He steps back in the box, and just a second, I think he slipped.
Yeah, yes, his foot slipped in.
No? Well, this is a little confusing in the middle of the wind-up.
The crowd's going wild.
Ladies and gentlemen, something has happened out there. I don't...
It looks like Woody Sanders has collapsed. Just a minute, I'm getting a report from the field.
All right, thank you, Johnny.
It, uh... Oh, no. Why, it's fantastic!
Ladies and gentlemen, Woody Sanders has been shot!
Yes, I can see now myself. The blood is spreading out on his uniform, and his teammates are carrying him off the field.
The field!
Now, uh, that's what I like in a ball game.
Excitement. But who killed Swede Benson and Woody Sanders?
And, uh, I wonder who won that ball game.
Well, the second act of Bases Loaded should solve it. Meanwhile...
And now, act two of Bases Loaded.
We go back to the locker room of the ball club, which has lost its manager and its number one pitcher through murder.
And the coroner says the bullet entered Woody's body at a point between his right shoulder blade and his spine.
Came out just below his heart.
That means it... it had to be somebody way up in the stands.
Yeah, on the second deck.
Yeah, maybe.
There's the elevated track right alongside the park, too, Gabe.
Only 20 feet outside the park and about six feet above the top of the stands.
Somebody with a rifle.
A guy with a rifle that'd look good on the elevated tracks, wouldn't he?
Yeah, I know it's nuts, but it's all we've got.
It makes it look like Garson, doesn't it?
Garson was sitting next to me at the game, and not by accident either.
Oh, I don't mean Garson himself. He wouldn't take that kind of a chance.
But one of his boys.
Yeah, but who and why?
Why? To win his dough.
But he didn't win it. Jones, the relief pitcher, probably did better than Woody could have.
He saved the game.
There had to be some other motive, like jealousy or...
Or what?
Well, that guy Artie was wandering around the locker room, wasn't he, before the game?
He had the combination to Swede Benson's locker, too.
What'd his angle be?
Well, with a punk like that, it could be anything. Robbery.
Artie doesn't have a job. He likes flashy clothes.
Swede gave him money sometimes.
Yeah, I've seen that myself.
All right, suppose Artie goes to the Swede for a touch.
Swede says no, and Artie argues with him.
Artie gets tough, pulls a gun, shoots Swede, and stuffs him in the locker.
And then comes back?
No.
Well, he didn't expect to find you and Woody there.
He wanted to see if he'd left any clues. Simple.
Maybe you got something of that.
Yeah, maybe not. It's too easy. It's too simple.
Where was Artie during the game?
I didn't see him.
After I was hit with that liner in the fourth, I didn't pay much attention to anything.
Well, if Artie killed a Swede, he'd have shown up at the game to keep him being suspected.
And if he wasn't at the game, he couldn't have killed Woody.
Somebody killed him, though. The same somebody who bumped off the Swede.
Uh-huh. And the same somebody who was up on the elevated tracks while the game was being played.
You didn't come to bat in the eights, did you?
Well, listen, I was out there at short when Woody got shot. If you think that...
I noticed you weren't in the dugout much of the time, Gabe.
Well, when I got hit by that liner, it just about knocked me goofy.
I went to the locker room to get taped up, and I went back every chance I got.
I didn't know what was going on.
Maybe not. What happened to you after you helped carry Woody off the field?
I was kind of stunned, I guess.
What, with that jolt in the head, and then Woody?
Well, I kind of drew a blank.
Maybe.
What do you mean, maybe?
Listen, I couldn't have fired that shot. I was on the field. You saw me.
30,000 other people saw me.
Don't get excited. I have to suspect everybody.
Well, don't concentrate on me. I'm nervous enough without you.
Nervous? That's fine. I like to make people nervous. Solves murder cases.
Oh, cut the ribbing. What are you going to do about Artie?
Yeah, Artie. We still have him.
Mody for killing Swede Benson. Robbery. Mody for killing Woody.
What?
He might have figured Woody was dangerous and had kind of been in the locker room.
He didn't know how much Woody figured out about the Swedes' murder, so he got rid of him.
You were in the locker room, too. If Artie is the killer, his next step would be to get you out of the way, then.
Oh, he wouldn't try anything on me.
Maybe not. But if I were you, I wouldn't take too many chances.
You already know why I didn't go to the game, Lieutenant Blake.
I told you. I saw it Woody. I warned him about it. I had a feeling something was going to happen.
Oh, psychic, huh? You're quite a baseball fan, though, Jenny. First home game you'd missed, wasn't it?
So what? I was mad at Woody. I told him not to...
Mad, huh? Mad enough to kill a guy?
No. I just didn't go to the game. I'm here in my apartment all the time. Every minute.
Alone?
Yes. Oh, well, no. I wasn't going to mention it, but Artie showed up.
Oh, Artie. Now we're getting somewhere. Artie the baseball kid and Jenny the baseball girl.
Oh, stop it. I don't know what you're getting at. All I know is that Artie came in about the beginning of the sixth inning.
Sixth?
Yes. I was listening to the broadcast. Artie came in and said he hadn't been able to stay at the game after the way he'd seen Swede Benson.
Swede was about the only friend Artie had.
Mm-hmm. And Artie listened to the rest of the game here, hmm?
Well, he didn't have anywhere else to go.
Did he come here when Woody was killed?
No. He got nervous about the eighth inning. Said he couldn't sit still, thinking about Swede.
Ah, so he left about the eighth, huh? Have you seen him since?
No. Said he'd be back, but I suppose he heard what happened to Woody. That must have upset him worse.
But you're not upset.
What do you mean?
Jenny, you need some time to think up a good story, and I can fix it up for you. Come on. You're going to the station with me.
The station? The police station? Why?
Well, until we find Artie, your alibi isn't worth a plugged nickel, Jenny. You say you were here in your apartment, but...
Eh, without Artie, it doesn't stand up.
Alibi? Listen, I told you I was here.
Yeah, I know. But I've been up on the elevated tracks, Jenny. You were careless enough to drop this letter.
Elevated tracks? A letter? What letter?
This letter from Gabe Stewart.
I don't know what you're talking about. Hey, hey, look out!
What the... Oh!
Artie! How did you get in behind that curtain?
Shut up, Jenny.
Artie, what are you doing? How did you get in here?
Never mind. Come on.
Artie, maybe you killed him. He's a policeman.
Come on, I said. He was all set to hang you. He had you in a tight spot, Jenny, with that letter. Let's get going, fast!
I'm a reasonable guy, Artie. I don't mind getting whacked over the head with a blackjack if there's some point to it.
But I don't see why you did it. You didn't really think you could get away with it, did you?
You think you're smart, don't you?
Ah, never mind that. Point is, we caught you and Jenny, too. And slugging me didn't help any.
But I'm fair, Artie. I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me what you did.
I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me what you did.
You don't make much of a gal I had, Artie. Now, Jenny...
You quit picking on Jenny. Leave her alone. She didn't have nothing to do with it.
She's a little bit old for you, isn't she, Artie?
What are you talking about? She's the only friend I've got now that...Sweed...
Why did you kill Sweed, Artie? You could have gotten money from him. Did Jenny put you up to this?
I didn't kill Sweed. You think I'd kill the best friend?
Artie, you can't kill me. I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to kill you.
I didn't kill Sweed. You think I'd kill the best friend?
Artie, you killed Sweed Benson because Jenny told you to.
You knew about Garson wanting Sweed to throw the game.
Jenny put you up to it, didn't she? She told you she'd cut you in on the money that Garson promised to pay her.
I didn't do it, and Jenny didn't do it, neither.
You killed Sweed, then you got jumpy. You knew Woody was Jenny's boyfriend, and you figured he might find out something.
So you killed Woody to protect yourself.
I didn't, you dumb flatfoot!
And then you figured you'd have to get rid of Gabe Stewart next, because Gabe had written Jenny that letter about Woody.
What letter? Why do you...
You know, Artie, you know, the one I found on the elevated tracks, the letter you dropped when you shot Woody Sanders.
You're crazy. I don't know about any letter.
Oh? Never saw this letter, huh, Artie?
What? Let's see that. That's from Gabe. That's the letter Gabe wrote Jenny.
Right, Artie. The letter you read. Made you mad. You stuffed it in your pocket.
But you got careless and you dropped it when you climbed up onto the elevated tracks.
No. I saw that letter, sure, but...
Of course, Artie. It has your fingerprints all over the envelope.
Why, that dirty heel. I'll get him if it's the last thing I do.
Get who?
Gabe Stewart.
You won't do any more getting, Artie.
Listen, Gabe sent me after that letter.
What? Gabe sent you after it?
Sure. He gave me two bucks and said he'd mail the letter to Jenny and then changed his mind.
Said he wanted it back before Jenny read it.
Before Jenny read it?
Yeah. He mailed it at night and he knew it'd be delivered next morning.
So he gave me the money to wait for the mailman at Jenny's and sneaked the letter out before she saw it.
Now look, Artie, don't...
That's the truth, honest!
I went to Jenny's and got the letter and brought it back to Gabe. Unopened.
Jenny never saw it.
You're not lying?
She never saw it unless, well, maybe Gabe showed her the letter.
Oh. Well, then come along, Artie. We're going for a ride.
I know this is a street where he lives. He's got a one-room apartment.
Maybe you'll get out of the shed, Artie.
Hey, look! That's Gabe getting into his car right in front of the apartment house. Hurry up!
We'll have to stop him.
Hey, step on it. He's driving away.
Yeah.
For Pete's sakes, Lieutenant Blake, he's gonna get away!
Don't worry, Artie. We'll get him.
But you've got nothing on Gabe anyway.
That letter, Artie. Gabe dropped it on the elevated track on purpose.
That's kind of crazy.
Sure, like a fox. He sent you after the letter so to have your fingerprints on it.
He wanted to clear himself of suspicion, so he picked on you.
He figured your fingerprints would be a sense to get you hung for the murders of both Sweet and Woody.
Can't you get any more out of this tub? He's doing over 80.
We'll get him. This next corner's the quick...
Hold on, kid. Hold on.
Okay, Gabe. Come on. Climb out of there.
Hey, what is this? You're trying to run me off the street? You might as well...
That'll work so hard being innocent, Gabe.
Huh? Can a guy go for a ride without you?
You're going for a ride, all right, bud. But nothing that convertible.
You think you can frame me? Listen...
I read your letter, Gabe. You made just one mistake.
You didn't figure on Artie coming to Jenny's rescue.
I don't know what you're talking about.
When Artie hit me over the head in Jenny's apartment, I knew he wasn't the murderer.
Because no murderer would worry about me trying to catch somebody else.
Oh, no. He'd love that.
You tried to frame me with that letter.
Yeah. He's right, Gabe. You figured if you wrote a letter to Jenny telling her about your troubles with Sweet Benson,
and that you knew she was working on Woody Sanders,
it would look like the kind of a letter that would make Artie sore.
So you were trying to get it and then leaving it on the tracks with his fingerprints on it.
That was kind of cute.
Oh, you're nuts. I couldn't have killed Woody.
I was right there on the field.
Ah, that was a honey, Gabe. Big league staff, you betcha.
There's only one guy on the baseball field who's always exactly in the same spot when he starts a play.
And that's the pitcher.
He toes the rubber on the pitching mound, his arms up. A set target.
What are you talking about?
That whole business about the elevated track was a lot of malarkey.
Just to throw us off the track. Huh?
Sure. You left the letter on the tracks. You had plenty of chance to do it.
But the shot wasn't fired from there.
No? Where was it fired from then?
Well, the easiest place to fasten a rifle firmly would be on a light tower on top of the grandstand.
You could sight it right down to the pitcher's mound and wire it there.
And then I suppose it would go off just by holler and speak to it.
The rifle aimed and wired into place. All you'd need would be a gadget of some kind to set it off.
Yeah. Quite a gadget.
Not so tough. A gadget like, well, maybe one of Garson's boys sitting up near the radio booth
all set to pull a string at a signal from you from the field.
A string tied to the trigger of that gun.
No, you're nuts.
Maybe. We'll go out and take a look at that light tower anyway.
And don't ever think Garson's mob will cover you if you're in a jam.
They don't play that way.
Why, just a second while I take the keys out of my car.
Hey, look out!
Hey, hey!
You. I shoulder you.
Yeah, I'm not a fixed target like a pitcher on a mound, Gabe.
And that revolver of yours wasn't wired into place.
Sweet Benson and Woody both had it coming to them.
The only reason Woody even talked to Garson was to try to get something on me.
Woody and Sweet were fixing it to throw me out of baseball.
You dirty crook. I'm trying to hang it on to me.
You. Always in the way. I could have...
You could have done a lot. You could.
One murder wasn't enough. You had to make it a double hitter.
And you make two hits.
Yeah, two hits and also two errors.