IWCF 010 - A Riot Made to Order

I was a communist for the FBI.

Starring Dana Andrews and an exciting tale of danger and espionage.

I was a communist for the FBI.

You're about to hear a strange story.

Names, dates, and places are for obvious reasons fictional.

But many of these incidents are based on the actual experiences of Mathsevedic.

Who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist for the FBI.

Here is our star Dana Andrews as Mathsevedic.

I've heard people call him crackpots, harmless crackpots.

They were speaking of the members of the Communist Party in this country.

I was one of those communists for nine years.

I reported their conspiracy against the United States from within.

Crackpots?

Like spiders spinning webs.

Harmless?

Like tigers stalking their prey.

Here's just part of the story.

In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Mathsevedic under covermen.

Now here is Dana Andrews as Mathsevedic under covermen.

This story from his confidential file is marked.

A riot made to order.

Hello?

Mathsevedic.

Speaking.

At Tom's record.

Yes?

You sound surprised.

You were told that I would contact you.

Well, that's right.

It's just that here at work is this time of day.

I'm at the original hotel room 406.

I have matters to discuss with you.

When?

Right now.

That's how you receive your orders in the Communist Party.

Anytime, anywhere.

And you obeyed to the letter right now.

I got up from my desk and there were a dozen pair of eyes watching me.

Communist eyes.

Some I had put in this department of the United States Employment Service myself.

But I knew there were others watching, reporting.

Had I shown any aggravation, any irritation?

Drexel would have known about it immediately.

I walked out with a smile, the perfect obedient slave on the way to his master.

Anton Drexel, small but muscular, intelligent, dark featured.

He had come from New York, a high-party functionality.

He didn't bother shaking hands.

He came right to the point.

Comrade Svetic.

Comrade Drexel.

You are satisfied that I am Drexel.

I'm satisfied.

You've never seen me before.

You are too easily satisfied.

Comrade Adams told me you would contact me.

You did.

That's good enough for me.

The party isn't in the habit of making mistakes like that.

Neither is the FBI.

What do you want me to do?

Comrade, throw you on the floor, search you, check your fingerprints.

Wait for word from Moscow.

What do you want?

You have a temper, Comrade Svetic.

I don't like to talk about the FBI.

You agree that we must be as careful as there.

Any party member knows that.

What mistake did I make?

You made none.

I didn't accuse you of anything.

I'm sorry.

I was wrong.

Sit down, Comrade Svetic.

Thanks.

What I have to say is greatest importance.

Go ahead.

Our leaders feel it's time for us to have publicity.

Sympathetic publicity in the catalytic newspapers of this country.

That's clear.

Yes, Comrade?

A meeting the party member beheld in the hall two nights from now.

It will be attended by the rank in file.

Comrade Adams has the responsibility of filling the hall.

I see.

At a signal, the meeting will be raided by the pickets outside.

It will be a riot.

Comrade Gratzenov and a sound truck will set off the riot.

A question, Comrade.

Yes.

We've had many such meetings before and none was ever picketed.

Where will they come from this time?

The Cargus Manufacturing Company nearby.

Our comrades in the plant have done their work well.

They cry, stop the commirats before they take over the country.

Those stupid workers are filled with patriotism they'll turn out of the hundreds.

The riot cannot fail.

And after the riot we blame the fascist police.

The citizen Gestapo who interfered with our rights of free speech and free assembly.

Exactly.

Our comrades become martyrs.

Others will rally to our cause and sympathy.

Why do you tell me this, Comrade?

Everything is arranged.

There's nothing for me.

In the country.

Everything depends upon you.

You are responsible for the boys of the control commission, Comrade Sveti.

They will mingle with the pickets and citing them.

The signal they will lead them into the hole.

This riot cannot fail.

But our own comrades in the hall are armed.

They might be killed.

Should anything so unfortunate occur?

It will be today glory to die serving the party.

You are under orders, Comrade Sveti.

I shall execute my orders, Comrade Drexel.

Anything more?

You'll have help in your assignments.

Comrade France will assist you.

I don't need any help for this.

I've done it before.

I'm a self on the sides.

I don't want you to object, Comrade.

I'm sorry, Comrade.

The party knows best.

You'll let me off.

I shall be at that meeting.

Good day, Comrade Sveti.

That was all.

Just arranged for several hundred human beings to have their skull cracked.

Their teeth knocked out.

It was like sending invitations for a banquet.

A banquet of death.

I walked down the hotel corridor from Drexel's room to the elevator.

I had to get to a form.

Call my FBI contact.

Hello, Comrade Sveti.

Remember me?

He seemed to come out of the woodwork, like a termite.

Otto Franz, my assistant.

Had I protested too much at the meeting with Drexel?

Then it hit me.

Otto Franz had been arranged for before the meeting.

Why?

I didn't need any help on this job, and they knew it.

But what else did they know?

And what was Otto Franz?

A tale or a hatchet man?

Hello, Otto.

Comrade Otto, to use Sveti.

Where did you come from, Comrade?

It doesn't matter.

Let's go to work, huh?

Sure.

What do we do first?

That's up to you.

I just go along and do whatever you say.

You can see her tonight when you go home.

Look, Comrade.

You can follow me wherever I go.

Those are your orders.

But you're not telling me where I can go.

Those are my orders.

Otto Franz, party liner.

Faithful hound.

The crack of the whip was all he understood.

Nothing would prime from my side.

He had his orders, and so had I.

We took a cab and I gave the driver an address.

Did you move to a new place, Comrade?

I'm going to see my doctor first.

Something wrong?

My stomach's been upset lately.

Maybe you're nervous.

Maybe.

I got some powders I take from my stomach.

Got a mind with me. How about some?

I'm paying the doctor.

I'll do what he says.

Just wanted to save you some money.

That's all.

Thanks.

He stayed with me like a headache.

Right into the doctor's waiting room.

When the doctor was ready to see me, I knew he wanted to follow.

But he didn't quite have the nerve.

I told Doc I wanted to find out how my mother was,

and he told me in two words.

Not good.

I asked if I could use his phone.

He nodded and went into his laboratory.

So far, I was getting all the breaks.

Miller speaking.

Vendy Fletcher.

Go ahead, Matt.

They're staging a riot at Liberty Hall the after tomorrow.

Several hundred party followers in the hall.

That many tickets are more outside.

On signal, the tickets raid the meeting.

Go ahead, Matt.

Go ahead.

It's up to you, fellows.

Now, you've got to stop this thing.

We can't move in on anything like this, Matt.

I'm afraid you'll have to carry the ball on this one.

Look, I've got a tail on me right now.

Everything's been set.

What do you expect me to do?

I'm sorry, Matt.

Yeah, what's that?

Yeah, I know.

It's my baby.

From the doctor's office, we went to my home.

My mother's condition had me worried.

Her heart had been weak for a long time.

There was always the chance that she might die, still believing that I was a real communist.

If my brother, Tip, was home, there would be real trouble, especially when he saw Otto.

He hated me, but he hated my comic friends even worse.

Tip wasn't there.

I almost felt good.

The little breaks were coming my way, but I needed a big one.

Real big.

Otto showed a rare streak of decency.

Your mother upstairs, comrade.

In bed.

I wait here on the parlor.

You go up and see her.

But don't take too long.

We got work to do, remember?

I remember, comrade.

Matt?

Come around.

Matt, are you all right?

Sure.

Sure, ma'am. I'm great.

But what's this I hear about you?

Oh, with me is nothing.

Just a little tired.

You're the one I worry about, Matt.

There's nothing to worry about.

I'm doing fine. Just look at me.

You are in trouble, Matt.

The government, Matt.

Those men from Washington.

The FBI.

Yes.

They're after you, I know.

Ma'am, you're all wrong.

Won't you listen to me?

All the time I pray for you, my boy.

That God should make you give up

what you are doing against the government of America.

But, Ma'am, can't you see?

Promise me, Matt.

A little I ever ask from you.

I can't, Ma'am.

What?

Are you all right?

Don't matter no more.

How can I be all right?

When against the United States,

one of my boys is working.

Look, Ma'am, I got to run along now.

Next time, I want to see you up and around

and making a cake, you hear?

Do you like pray for you, Matt?

That God should take care of you.

You are still my boy.

And the mother can't forget.

Now, back to Dana Andrews,

starring as Matt Syverick.

And I was a communist for the FBI.

And the second act of our story.

I've always stayed with me the next two days.

He never let me out of his sight.

We took a hotel room because I told him my mother was too ill

and I didn't want to bother her at home.

Why was I given this insignificant job and a guard?

Did they suspect I might sabotage their riot if I had a chance?

In two days, I hadn't been able to think of a single plan.

And then the phone rang.

That's the phone, Comrade.

It's for you.

Your maize may come in front.

You must be psychic.

Answer it.

Yes?

Comrade Syverick.

Speaking, Comrade Drexel.

Meeting is tonight.

I know.

You have done your work?

There was nothing to be done until this afternoon.

You will see to it.

Certainly.

Let me talk to Comrade Franz.

One moment.

He wants to talk to you, Comrade.

Hello?

Yes.

Yes.

No.

Nothing like that.

Yes.

Drexel knew where to call.

I hadn't told him.

An auto was with me every moment.

Were they watching both of us?

Or had an auto somehow given me the slip?

I shuddered.

One mistake was all you ever made in a spot like this.

Your first and last.

He was watching me still talking at the phone.

Yes, Comrade.

Right.

He sat there, staring at me.

His face a complete blank.

Other comrades had been pushed from hotel windows.

The papers called it suicide and the public believed the papers.

I started toward the door.

It's time to round up the boys for tonight, Comrade.

Comrade Drexel seemed a little worried that I'd not done it before this.

I know.

Well, are you coming or do you stay here?

I got my orders come out.

I go with you.

The boom squad I picked for this job was just like all the others.

Maybe a little more so.

Muscle men.

Powerful guys.

And deadly.

We met them in the back room of a cheap restaurant.

Two dozen of them.

Maybe a few more.

Okay, Comrade.

Let's have a quiet.

You'll gather tonight at eight o'clock in the street in front of Liberty Hall.

Pickets from the Carguss company will be on hand before you get there.

Wear your regular street clothes so as to look just like the other pickets.

Mix with them but stay away from each other.

And get this.

No guns.

You want to say that again.

You can use brass nuts, lead pipe and a newspaper or saps.

You've got plenty to work with.

But no guns.

A comrade in a soundtrack will be yelling for a peaceful picketing with no violence.

It's your job to make the pickets forget him and raid the meeting and start the riot.

Okay, that's all.

Nice welcome.

Thanks.

On that axle they'll be pleased.

Everything that night went according to schedule.

It always does when the commies are behind it.

They're thorough. They don't miss a trick.

The plans are laid days ahead.

You'll hope for a slip up.

But you never get your wish.

When we got to Liberty Hall, the street out front was alive with pickets.

They were angry but not looking for trouble.

Yeah.

Everything goes well, comrade.

Yeah, everything's great.

There are plenty here to cause serious trouble.

That was the idea, wasn't it?

Of course.

You should be happy, comrade.

I'm happy.

Remember boys, this is a peaceful picketing day.

We want more order.

Let's have no violence.

This is a protest against those commies inside.

This is the United States where we do everything finds out.

All right, stop.

Keep the things for boys.

Keep on your round.

Let's make the things for boys.

Comrade Gatzinoff is doing his work well.

Yeah.

Have you seen any of our goons caught around?

Several.

Yes, ma'am.

Talking to that picket.

Yeah, I see him.

Well, there's another one button holding a couple of guys.

They're here and they're working.

It is good to come about static.

Yeah.

That's going to help.

Why?

There's nothing more to do here.

It's just a question of time.

Maybe we can help in there.

As you say, comrade.

Inside the hall, everything was proceeding according to schedule.

I wasn't an empty chair in the place.

It was like a sheep pen with comrade Adams, the ring leader,

on the stage leading them to slaughter.

And there you have an example, comrade.

Of this freedom of very good boys,

right outside these doors, above our pickets,

the fascist police of the United States,

are protesting our right, our free assembly.

That's why we are here tonight,

to protest this wanted usurpation of our rights,

to defend what our forefathers want.

The party line, the same old hogwash,

and they believed every word of it.

Then I heard the crowd outside getting nastier.

It was almost time for my goons to lead them in.

I began to sweat.

There must be something I could do.

I must.

I don't know why all the idea hit me.

I turned to rattle.

I'm in France, like the front door.

Are you crazy?

Do what I say.

But why?

You said, if a mob walks into an open door,

they'll have to start talking things over.

Make them break down a door and there's no talk.

Just violence.

That's a smart idea for me.

Do it.

Blocking the doors was just a stall for time.

I wanted to get at the automatic spring brake system, back stage.

I got there just in time to meet Drexel and Adams

and the rest of the big shots on their way out the back door.

They weren't risking their skins.

The regulations come and sweat.

If only a work went.

You'll meet in my hotel room as soon as this is over.

Come right out of the sun, I go.

Come along, Sylvete.

We've set the fuse now, let her blow.

I'll wait for comment, France.

Good.

I get soaked.

I was standing right next to a wall ladder.

It led up into the rafters and from there,

I could reach one of the vows of the spring-link system

and melt off the protected wax cap.

I started up the ladder and I saw Otto coming back.

I jumped down.

He hadn't seen me.

Your idea works, Coma.

Listen to them.

They like to bite beasts outside.

Good work, Coma.

When those go and break,

100 will be hurt.

He turned and looked out at the hall.

I gave him the heel of my hand at the base of his neck.

He went down on a heap and stayed there.

I shined up the ladder and held my lighter under the valve.

No one saw me.

The comies inside were panic.

They didn't know what to do next.

The pickets were stuck at the door,

but it wouldn't be too long.

I hit the door gold.

I hit the pickets crash through.

I had to stop this somehow.

Flies depended on it.

I broke out into a swing with the valve never melt.

I held the fling closer.

And then the valve melted.

The water rushed through the pipes and it rained all over the hall.

A hard cooling steady rain that could put out fires.

A rain that could put out a riot.

I came down the ladder.

The cow was still on the floor.

The comies had turned the back exit.

They were pouring out like drowned rats.

The pickets were backing out the front door,

but they didn't want any part of that flood.

The riot had come a cropper.

Comrade Drexel was waiting for me in his hotel room.

But I had to make one stop before that.

A crummy little gem on Denson Street.

I knew the owner, Mack, a hulking punch drunk ex-pug.

He knew me slightly.

He never asked the questions.

When you can't think anymore, there's nothing to ask about.

First, Mack, if I haven't got time to argue,

there's a matter of life and death.

I want you to go over my face and go over it good.

With gloves.

No gloves.

There are fists.

I got to look like I was really beat up.

Blood too?

Yeah.

Everything I'd get it four or five guys jumped me.

Might hurt you.

I told you this is a matter of life or death.

I'll go ahead.

Well, okay.

Just as a favor.

No heart-feeling.

No heart-feeling.

When Mack began to blur, I knew I had enough.

He helped me to the door and I staggered into the night.

Damage.

Savatic.

Fairies.

He slept me and turned on the water.

Silence.

What?

What happened?

Come here.

They slugged France first and they jumped me.

I fought them until I passed out.

Who were they?

Five of them.

I never saw them before.

Pickets?

Maybe.

None of ours, though.

They turned on the water?

I don't know.

I guess so.

It was out cold.

I tell you the only guy around me when I got slugged was Spedic.

He turned on the water.

And then beat myself to a pulp?

Is that it, Caled?

Unfortunately, Cambridge Spedic's suspicion is important to you.

Okay.

Okay, so I slugged out.

And I turned on the water and then I beat myself unconscious.

That's the way you want it.

That's the way it is.

You're acting as a control commission.

Okay.

I confess everything.

Let's get this over with.

I've remarked before Spedic you're violent, Timber.

Why not?

I've done everything I could to make this job a success.

And then I'm questioning like a dirty double-cossing traitor.

In the name of the party,

what more do you want from me?

Take it easy, Spedic.

Sure.

Sure I'll take it easy.

You need a doctor's care, Comrade Spedic.

I suggest that you go immediately.

The story seems truly your face is proof of that.

But we shall investigate further.

Is that all, Comrade?

That is all.

For now.

I left the hotel and I felt good inside in spite of the pain.

I had stopped the riot.

They'd investigate further, but they wouldn't find anything.

I was sure of that.

I'd covered everything.

And for a while I was safe.

I was safe to continue the double life.

Safe to tread the dim line between darkness and light.

Safe to walk alone.

Safe to walk alone.

Dana Andrews will return in just a moment.

This is Dana Andrews.

These stories, many of them based upon actual events and happenings

in the real-life experiences of Math Savedic,

are brought to you in order that you may be aware of the insidious working from within of the Communist Party.

Our greatest danger lies in being unaware.

Our greatest safety in a knowledge of what we are fighting against.

For this reason, I urge you to listen again next week

when we will dramatize another exciting adventure

from the official records of Math Savedic.

Join us then, won't you?