Latest / Great Detectives of Old Time Radio Volume 2|Mystery Audio Dramas / The Fat Man: The NIghtmare Murder (EP0787)

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The Fat Man: The NIghtmare Murder (EP0787) · Great Detectives of Old Time Radio Volume 2|Mystery Audio Dramas

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Welcome to the Great Detectives of Old Time Radio from Boise, Idaho. This
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is your host, Adam Braham. If you have a comment, email it
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to me Box thirteen at Great Detectives, not Net, follow us on Twitter
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at Radio Detectives, and call us to await nine nine, one, four,
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seven eight three. Well. Today's episode is brought to you by the
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financial support of our listeners. Thank you so much for your support. Unfortunately
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we don't have any nineteen fifty episodes of The Fat Man, but here's the
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first of two nineteen fifty one episodes. This is the second to last show.
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This one's called The Nightmare Murder from January seventeenth, nineteen fifty one.
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There comes about Fat Man in the ninth Smare Murder Darring Jay Scott smart Very
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goes he's stepping on the stool. Wait two hundred and thirty seven pounds fortune
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danger. Who is the fat Man? It takes a good man to make
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a first class so old fashion. You have to muddle this sugar bitters and
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water properly, then toss in the ice and whitkey, and then carefully twist
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the lemon peel on top. Mike, anything else, it's simply a matter
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of following the recipe. But here's another illustration. You'd take a liberal jigger
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of motives and a slice of opportunity in a dash of means, and then
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pile a dozen or moral fashions on top of this. You're quite likely to
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end up with a real gruesome hangover murder. Mike. Any solid, normal
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routine job. This one began in my office. It was just after lunch.
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My feet were on the desk. I was munching of peppermint and prop
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the latest edition just south of the bows that marked the last resting place of
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a break of breaded pork shop. When the phone rang, Runyan speaking the
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detective. That's the debatable point. But I like to think, so,
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who's this. My name's George Jus. You've heard of me? Oh,
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you mean the author. That's a debatable point too. I write mystery stories.
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Yes, I know about private eyes who get hit on the head.
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Look, I've never had any need for a private eye. I don't even
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know what one looks like. I never even saw a pistol or against or
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a corpse the last night, the corpse that is, Wait, just wait
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a minute, let's take this in secret. Are you hiring me? Maybe
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how much? Fifteen expenses? That's a lot. But I need you pretty
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badly. What's the trouble? I killed a girl last night. I want
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you to prove it. I say that again and slower. You better come
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down here right away. Where are you? Melville Hospital Alcoholic Wards the closest
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I've never been to the Alcoholic Ward of Melville. Greeting the last weekend.
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After I convinced them I wasn't prospective clients, they gave me some of the
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dope on George Dutton there as something was his writer's imagination and picked up an
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Italian collaborator during the period in question, namely a batch of martinis running.
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Yeah, what can I do for you? George? Sit down on the
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bed, don't take it in my head. I know what you mean and
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better Yeah, no, Look, you're gonna think I'm crazy like the rest
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of them. But I'm not paying you for an opinion. Here. It's
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two days worth one hundred bucks. Thanks now for this. I'm supposed to
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hang a murder rapp on you or did I hear it right over the phone?
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You did? At least i'll know, Runion if it happened. If
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I killed her. At least I'll know I'm not crazy. Anything better than
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that kind of doubts runnion anything I'm taking easy to tell me, mayn huh
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yeah yeah yeah, I know, calm, collected, lucid, logical,
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right, yeah, yeah, Okay. I've been working all right to see,
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trying to meet my publisher's deadline on the novel. I got tired last
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night around seven and went to bed, dead, wrung out, gone.
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You know well this, I'm sure somewhere around ten or eleven o'clock, I
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gotta put on my clothes and went out for a walk around the block.
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I just turned the corner when it happened. I've seen the car lot in
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my neighborhood. Black vee are convertible. I've seen the girl in a too
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stunning girl, blonde eyes like sapphires, figured like, well, yeah,
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I know what you mean. So what so she so, she pulled up
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to the curb and asked me to get in. Oh come, well,
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am I so horrible? She did it? That's all? Kay? Who
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was he? I don't know. I don't know anything about it. She
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handed me a bottle, and that's how it started. It's like number one
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it's so right. So anyway, we drove around for a while and I
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listen to her talking. Pretty soon the bottle was gone, so she pulled
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out another one, and pretty soon that one was gone. To what's she
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talking about? Deah, yeah, yeah, I see, perfectly normal.
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At the time, she was fascinated by death, wrote poems about it,
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she said, quoted from them all the time. Anyway, things got pretty
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fuzzy about that. I don't remember much. People voices, lights, one
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thing, they'll run you one thing. There was a big red rooster about
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ten feet high. Oh naturally, it wouldn't be an evening with that one.
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What was it? Wait a minute, wait a minute? A sign?
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Run you a knee on sign? I remember it blinking at me while
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she stopped by the trash can. What trash can? How do I know
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what trash can? A trash can? There was the red rooster and the
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trash can, and she stopped and took something out of her person, dropped
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it in. And there were more lights and more people and more riding in
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the car, and then pretty soon we were alone. She was pouring drinks
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for the two of us. Where was this I don't know, think it
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got me She handed me a glass see raised hers for its host, for
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death, she said, And so she had a gun in her hand,
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pointing it at her head. I grabbed it, got a hold of it,
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but it went off. Great last thing I remember with her lying on
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the floor and the floor was rushing up at me. Well that's it.
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What do you mean that's it? What happened after that? Nothing? When
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I opened my eyes, I was in my own bed, in my own
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apartment with my closed right bride left them at seven the night before. A
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night man swears I wasn't out of my room all night. Nobody believed me.
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Listen, I dreamed it. I had a couple more drinks, found
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it, found a cop on the beat and told him too, That's how
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I got here. They all think I'm crazy. Well maybe I am.
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Maybe I am, But go on find out for me running get on it?
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Will you get on it? No? I got on it. Bert.
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There was a janitor George's apartment in place, mister Runyon. I've been
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nice mon gear for twelve years. I know George Dutton as long as he
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lives here. He couldn't leave this Disney last night without me sin and I
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didn't see him, you can take my award? Is not? Then there
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was a bartender George had mentioned. Look, all I know is he'd come
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in at an indecent hour this morning, screaming for the hair of the dog
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that bid him, just like all the other times. Yeah, especially the
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last time. What happened last time? Oh, the same thing a couple
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of years ago. Only that night he got out of bed and trapped Adolf
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Hitler in the information booth at Grand Central. The cop would haul him over
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to Melville, says the same thing, Mike Wine's a couple of news boys.
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Verdict unanimous. George was a last and a lunator, and I was
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inclined to go along with him on the the area that a special convertible complete
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with blonde is something even in New York. Or will stop and look at
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I quised the service stations around Georgie's department. Out sure enough, upcomes a
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guy who greased its gold plate at Schaff only a month before. The record
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showed it belonged to Olivia Brant Star at a park avenue addressed it went with
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the cars. All I parted over. Some kind of a soiree was going
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on in a huge living room wall. The butler looked at me, raised
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his eyebrows one at a time, and finally decided I wouldn't run off at
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the silver plate, and hustled me into the library, which seemed to have
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another occupant as a spirit with yellow eyes fleeming. Will I to that cut?
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Come again? When you say that? Smile? What is it?
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Louder translation? By the way, I'm feeling clemon Vidia's potus. Who you
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one about the stove type of stickats? Oh? I'm not sure what that
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means, but I don't think so. My name is brad Running. Oh
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where is Lydia by the way up somewhere you're looking for? Yeah, but
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you're just in time. She and a for childs are going abroad, you
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know, stailing tonight? Oh, uncle child, Lydia's guardian keeper to the
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key to the Bradshaw ex checker. That sounds important. Oh and the chips
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huh. Oh No, he just has a pair of scissors to put the
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coupons for Lydia, which incidentally is a full time job. And that concludes
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my dissertation on the Bradshaws. A morbid subject at this let's talk about sure
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after we talk about a quick way I can get a hold Uncle childs,
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I beg your pond. This splend is Uncle Charles, pretty quick? How
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are you doing with spreadshow? Ah? It's the running, isn't it is?
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And now is your excuse me? Strange though? Now, mister running,
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I've come on a peculiar air. And mister thanks gunn, why do
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you expect your niece Lydia that? Oh that's too by. I wonder if
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she'd consider making a short visit to Melville Hospital Melville Heaven's blood face A client
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of mine takes he killed her last night? No, just a minute,
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What kind of nonsense is this? I know it sounds crazy, but it
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isn't nonsense. His name is George Dutton and he's in the alcoholic board.
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He fell off the wagon last night. Been hard. He has seen your
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knees riding around him her convertible. She impressed him, so instead of the
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usual pink elephants, he had some hallucination about taking a ride with her last
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night and killing her. We can't talk him out of it. That's fantastic.
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What do you want me to do about it? Well, just stopped
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by the hospital convincing he's wrong, that's all. But don't you understand we
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are sailing to Europe at midnight. Now, look, this will only take
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her ten minutes. It may mean the man's sanity well, otherwise he's liable
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to be onney on of the police in the newspaper. Well, I'll ask
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Lydia to drop die good and thanks. I'll be running along then. Sorry
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to cob you, mister Branshaw, Well, what's the verdict? Runner?
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You think I'm nuts? Not too? Huh, George, listen, listen
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the holy Isha. This doesn't mean you're nuts. Could happened up? Shut
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up? What was her name? Lydia Branshaw Bradshaw. Yeah, and she's
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coming over here to see you. Now listen, Runyon. You're working for
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me. See you're not working for them. You're waiting minute. George,
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do you listen to me. I'm telling you this happened. I was there.
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I wasn't in bad dreaming it the same is dead. Do you understand
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that I won't shut up. I'm telling you kids, you'll go off your
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rockers. Look Ark. Wait, Look, George, there's no use arguing.
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And I talked to her uncle. The girl's coming. I don't convince
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you wanted She's not coming here. Because she's dead. She's dead. I
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held her with the two arms. I heard the gun. I founded a
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lift in my art and my arm. No, no, I'm sorry,
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I haven't an I'm Lidia Bradshaw. Well what about a Jordan? You you're
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all right? What do you mean, mister dark? Last night, last
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night we were together. Don't you remember? Oh no, sorry, don't
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I don't remember ever seen you before? Go away, go away, Come
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on the poor man, what he said? Now, go on out to
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hit it out. Thanks very much, miss Fraction. Yeah, good night.
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Well, George, is that the girl? Yeah, that's the girl.
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So that kind of up. I refunded him fifty bucks to the hundred
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again. He recommended the good Ski and Christ and took off. It was
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after my dinner time, so I walked toward the East fifties and little Italian
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restaurant that makes wonderful asignan. Suddenly I found myself looking across the street at
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a bar on the opposite corner with a blazing red rooster and then lights.
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Of course, he could have dreamed this too in his heyday, probably knew
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every pub in town. But the business of the trash can opposite of the
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ansense which was night where I said it was was pretty accurate dreaming, even
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for a professional dreamer like George. For this reason, I decided to sacrifice
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my dignity. I sidled up to the trash can and began throbbing around.
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It was there a slim volume and black Morocco were gold lettering on the cover,
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reading Skyward Poems and Praise of Death by Lydia Bradstone. I kicked myself
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for refunding that fifty bucks. I stood for a minute the glove of the
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red roofs sign and thumbed through the book a poem. Then I went into
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the bar. Yes, so what do you make it a bear any special
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kind? Well? How about a tall, cool glass of McCoy's tale ale
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That sounds like a commercial. It is either sign up there, don't let
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them pull your brother, reach for the real McCoy. Okay, I'm sold
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wrong right? I clocked my real McCoy and skimmed through Lydia's Owed to the
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Dark Angel, tossing a Morocco bound book into a trash can. It seemed
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a strange thing for a girl to do until you read the poetry, whereupon
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it became clearly the only thing that was awful. I gave up trying to
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read it and concentrated on the funestade, which, as with all privately printed
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works, was a picture of the author. Looking at it now, it
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seemed to me as if I'd seen Lydia Branshaw somewhere before, somewhere before she
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walked into George's room at the High at all. But I couldn't put my
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finger on it. How about another real McCoy? No, no, wait
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a minute, don't go away. Yeah, were you here last night?
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For sure? Why here? Take a look at this picture? You ever
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seen any whish names Lydia Branchyaw? Was she in here last night? I
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don't know, maybe, but I don't remember seeing it. She came in
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if you have to did a bunch. I wouldn't remember anyway, I've been
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here four deep at the bar. Oh, excuse me, I got it?
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When you mean you don't know Lydia. I didn't say that, Miss
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Cameron. Why I mean? I didn't say I don't know. I only
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said I wouldn't remember if she was in here joined rush hour last night?
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Then excuse me. I got a customer waiting customer, my foot A liar,
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I Hope. Please don't think I'm drogging your footsteps, mister Doignon.
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How do you happen to come? Man? Always? Do you say he
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knows your cousin? She owns the place? Tell me did you steal that
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book from the library? Oh no, I picked it out of the trash
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can outside. What? Yeah? What is the only one she has left?
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She died before she throwed away? How about afterwards? What do you
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mean just skip it? Hear? Look at this inscription on the finalis Greg,
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Someday I'll find you. What do you mean by that? Greg Stanhope?
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She used to think she was in love with him. Maybe she was,
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I don't know, But Uncle Charles decided it was wrong and broke it
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up. A fatal mistake, I might ask, my fatal They found Greg
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the next day with a champagne glass in one hand and a gun in the
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other. He shot himself. Hello, George, Yeah, this is running?
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What do to waste your time on? Me? For running? And
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I'm Nutch? You know out, George? Take it easy. Answer me
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a couple of questions. Do you know anybody named Stanhope? Yeah? No,
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I never heard of. How did you happen to say Greg? I
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don't know, just popped into my head, Greg stanhope it goes together somehow.
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Wait a minute, Wait a minute, Wait a minute, I do
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know. Yeah she was. She was talking about him last night. That's
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who she toasted when she raised her glass just before. Okay, okay,
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Now one more question, George. Did anyone see you leave the building last
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night? Was sure? The janitor? Anyone else? No? Well,
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look, supposing it went like you said, suppose someone picked you off the
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floor to brash your apartment and brought you home. Is there anyone who know
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exactly where to hang your clothes and straighten out the rest of your apartment besides
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you? Sure the janitor would, but he already he's got a couple of
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sidelines. George, as a writer, this may come is the disappointment to
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you, but you aren't nuts wastened misster. Runyan, get your foot out
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of my door before I get easy. Now I'm coming in. I already
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told you all I know about George that I'm inclined to doubt As to downtown,
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you've had a hard day pushing a roman ranking in cash and what I
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could call up. There's a law against breaking into guys apartment there's also a
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law against criminal conspiracy. I said, I give it you this su do
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know all of it. Don't call me no criminal conspiracy, because I'm done
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it. There's no criminal See how much did Charles Bradshaw pay you to tell
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me George wasn't out of his apartment last night? I don't know nothing,
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I tell you, and I'll get out of here. Now. You come
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clean. First, you saw George coming and going. You helped Bradshaw put
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him to bed last night? No, I didn't, honest, I didn't.
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You better level with me, buster before I'm knook go near me.
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Someone had fired through the window and nailed the jenner to before I could make
22:11
him park. I rushed over, opened the window and hit the bank alley
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in half a minute flat, but it was too late. A car roared
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off half a block away, and that was that. I walked back to
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where the killer must have stood, trying to make sense out of nonsense.
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I'd run into my share of murders, but this was the first time in
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my book that someone committed one to cover up another one someone else had confessed
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to. Now if that sounds confusing, it's only because it was a party
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was going on three floors up. It was nice to know someone was having
22:41
a good time because I wasn't. I leaned back against the wall and up
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my head. I had to be an answer someone, and it was lucky
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I'd leaned back where I would have been brained. A bottle whistled down three
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floors and glanced off my shoulder and bounced into some soft rubbish in the allies.
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I picked it up, looked at the label, and suddenly it hit
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me. It was an answer from out of the bloom. Don't let them
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pull you, brother, it said breach for the real McCoy. I found
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the phone and called the hospital, left instruction for George. Then I held
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a cabin rushed over to Lydia Bradshaw's department. Uh what time is it,
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missus Bradshaw? Yaw, mister Levin, I told mister Lanyon, Uncle Charles
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is extremely busy taking care of the baggage and won't have time to talk to
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you before. Yeah, sure, sure, I know. How come we
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forgot that conk over there? Miss Bradshaw having a tough time with that name?
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What about that counts full of the first editions for the vault. While
23:47
we're gone, let's see where was? Will you stop reading that stupid book?
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Stupid listen to this. Let's tide the cosmic threshold. I gave it
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back to the old, from your lighted realm once more, then resolute to
24:03
turn my face the new way towards the wild, unlighted shore. Three guesses
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now Byron Keiths or Nick Kenny. I don't know, and I don't care.
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You ought to know, baby, you wrote it? What do you
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mean, mister Vanian Bombs and Prayers of Death by Lydia Bradshaw. Uh?
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This mean a name thing to you? Beer bottle, isn't it? Yeah?
24:30
Someone almost brained me with it tonight, McCoy's pale ale. Don't let
24:36
him fool your brother, reach for the real mccau still don't remember? Should
24:41
I? Yeah? It took me a while, but I did. I
24:45
wondered why you look familiar to me? Yeah? You two girls, two
24:49
pictures. One of these girls is Lydia Bradshaw Park Avenue debutante and the other
24:56
is a professional model. Which one is the real? Mccau? It was
25:00
an ad in All the magazine three years ago. Pick it off? Which
25:04
is which? By? No? I presume? Yeah? Why did you
25:07
play along? With him. Is it any harmony? Well? I can
25:11
think of about six laws you're breaking, not police, of which is criminal,
25:14
conspiracy, criminal. What are you just a minute, Lydia, stay
25:17
where you are. My name is not Lydia. Let's stop the pretense.
25:22
Gonna make it a doubleheader tonight, Uncle Charles, I'm double what murder?
25:27
Murder? Murder? I didn't know anything about this, or you said,
25:33
was she killed herself and you wanted to avoid a scandal about suicide? Was
25:37
a scandal, all right, But not about suicide, wasn't, Uncle Charles?
25:41
When Lydia killed herself last night and threw the whole estate into the hands
25:44
of the executive, opened the books to the accompanance. How much had you
25:48
would investled, Uncle Charles? A couple of hundred geeves, maybe more than
25:52
that. Runyon, but you're wrong on technicality. Stop a scandal, not
25:56
unless it gets out, and it's not going it out. I killed once.
26:00
They can't do any more to me, but two or three. You
26:03
can't cover it that way. Branshaw, watch me, Watchhaw. You're just
26:11
in time. You kill me. No, but he's gonna have quite a
26:19
headache. The McCoy company puts out a good bottle too, too down.
26:26
Put her on the sofa, George, when I call headquarters A Bradshaw.
26:32
No, no, this is the reasonably accurate fac similar we'll find Lydia Bradshaw
26:37
on that trunk over there. Well, and I did kill her, No,
26:40
no, you didn't. She committed suicide, but her guard him didn't
26:42
dare let it be known, or he'd have been discovered asn't embezs there?
26:47
What do you mean? Skip it for now? I need a drink?
26:51
How about you know it's all the same to you. I'll take sssparilla.
27:30
The Fat Man, starring Jay Scott Smart, was directed by Clark Andrews.
27:36
The script was written by Harold Swanton. Heard on tonight's show were Lyle sud
27:41
Roll as George Dutton and Gertrude Warner as John Cameron. The music was composed
27:47
by Mark Winston. Your announcer Don Lowell. Listen next week to another exciting
27:53
adventure of the Fat Man. G note for murder. This program came to
28:06
you from New York. Welcome back. Well, this is another one of
28:15
those plots. If there's a series that m reminds me of all of The
28:23
Fat Man, or vice versa. I'd say it'd be Barry Craig a lot
28:27
that. A lot of the mysteries we hear here are ones that I could
28:33
very easily imagine being told on Barry Craig, and this is kind of towards
28:38
the top of the list in that regards. Well, now we do turn
28:42
to listen or comments and feedback. This comment comes from Marline. What you're
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doing here is so awesome. I've always loved detection TIS shows, but mostly
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old time radio shows. I listen to them every night. Sherlock Holmes,
28:56
Sam Spade, neuro Wolf, Johnny Dowler. I just enjoy it so much
29:00
more than television. I have hundreds of shows on CD that I've now put
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on iPod. I thought I was crazy. None of my friends listen to
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them. It's nice to know other people like them too. I almost think
29:11
that it was watching the Waltons on TV that got me started. They used
29:15
to all gather around the radio. Thanks for doing what you do. Not
29:18
sure what how to contribute to this, just but let me know I kind
29:22
of want to have high school kids bring back radio shows on local stations.
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I'm a teacher. Arline. Well, thanks so much, Arline for your
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comments and feedback over at Great Detectors dot neet. We do have a donate
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link that's on the rights hand sign goes to PayPal and you can donate that
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way or email me Box thirteen at Great Detectors dott and I'm more than happy
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to provide a main and adriance for that purpose. I love what you say
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about bringing a radio back for the with the high school kids. If you
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do opt to do that, a website I heartily recommend is generic radio dot
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com. A generic radio has a wide variety of scripts, mostly transcriptions from
30:17
radio programs people have just sat down and transcribed what they heard. I think,
30:22
in an ideal world, radio to be able to fully come back.
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It'd be nice if kids could write their own radio scripts and perform them,
30:33
but finding the information on radio writing can be a challenge, so I recommend
30:41
generic radio dot com to get them at least introduced to the concept. So
30:45
thanks so much for listening, and appreciate you and all of our listeners out
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there. And that'll actually do it for today. We'll be back tomorrow with
30:55
let George do It. Join us on next Tuesday for the last ELP so
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to the Fat Man and on Sunday for the Fat Man Movie. In the
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meanwhile, send your commons to Box thirteen at Great Detectives dot net, follow
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us on Twitter at Radio Detectives, and call us to oh eight nine nine
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one four seven eight three. From Boise, Idaho, this is your host,
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Adam Grahamson and off