The Falcon - The Case of the Curious Cop

Are you really buying a car online on auto trader right now?

Really?

At a playground?

Yeah, really.

Look at these listings from dealers.

Wow!

Your search can really get that specific.

Really?

And you just put in your info and boom.

Cars in your budget.

Mom needs a second, honey.

You can really have it delivered?

Really.

Or I can pick it up at the dealership.

One sec, sweetie.

Mommy's buying a car.

Mommy's looking.

I think kid is walking up the slide.

Kyle, again, really?

Auto trader.

Buy your car online.

Really?

Hello?

Yes, this is the fourth and second.

Oh, normal.

I'm glad you called.

Hey, let me include me out tonight, Angel.

I'm all jammed up.

There's a party around who's been shown how to parlay a two-bit pocket knife

into a killing.

So naturally, he's going to make a stab at it.

This is Ed Hurley.

He's fighting you on behalf of the craft food company

to listen to the adventures of the Falcon,

starring West Damon.

You met the Falcon first in his best-selling novels.

Then you saw him in his thrilling motion-picture series.

Now join him on the air when the Falcon solves the case of the curious cop.

In just a moment, another thrilling adventure of the Falcon.

But first, a word about an adventure you can have any day in the week,

right in your own kitchen.

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And now, all the cases of the curious cop.

It's late Sunday evening in New York,

and Hunter has famed gambling club on East 84th is closed for the night.

But that doesn't seem to deter a plain clothesman, Jack Craven,

for his partner Frank Walsh from their decision to look in on Mr. Hunter.

Yes, me, Craven, we're wasting our time.

You think so, Frank?

Sure.

Hunter's probably gone.

What about that light we saw from the outside,

just for the dad to attend it off?

No, not Mr. Hunter.

He watches his pennies.

I will get you pennies, still here counting the take.

There was a light coming from.

Uh, there's room here, I think.

Yeah.

Now, this must be the office.

What are we going to do with you?

Well, you wait out here.

If you hear any commotion, get back to the car. Understand?

Right.

My name is Brock.

If you get to the second, you're not Brock.

No, my name is Craven, Mr. Hunter.

What are you doing here?

Have you ever seen one of these before?

It's a bad, isn't it?

Also known as a buzzer or a potsy.

So?

So I don't like people running gambling houses on my beat.

I see.

Especially without consulting me.

And suppose I did consult you?

Well, that might be different.

Now, if you were to consult me, say once a week, with 500 bucks,

you'd have no objections at all?

No.

Live and let leave is my motto.

The $500 is a lot of money, Mr. Craven.

Well, I can be a lot of trouble, Mr. Hunter.

Suppose I had you reported to the commissioner,

you'd be wasting your time.

They'd been trying to get rid of me for years.

But they never could get anybody to testify against me.

Maybe I'd be willing to.

Are you kidding?

You don't like publicity anymore in your racket than I do in mine.

You better give in, Hunter.

I can make an awful news into myself.

I can see that.

All right, Craven, don't move.

Now, what do you think you're going to do with that gun?

Something the police commissioner couldn't do.

I'm going to get rid of you, Craven.

I'll listen, Hunter.

If you don't put away that rod, I'll break you in two.

Hey, we are, Craven.

I mean that.

You're soup.

Give me another bottle, Hazelis.

What's going on?

All cup teats say, can a man get anything in his own home

without a million arguments?

Now, get it.

All right.

Oh, wait a minute.

Answer that first.

If Sergeant Corbett tell him I'm still sick

and a doctor says I can't see anybody.

Hello.

Mrs. Walch.

That's right.

Mrs. Sergeant Corbett again.

Oh, how are you, Sergeant?

Can't complain. How's Frank?

Just the same.

Can I talk to him?

I'm afraid not.

He's asleep.

Okay, tell him I called with him.

I certainly will, Sergeant.

Well?

I think he's suspicious.

Oh, I can't prove anything.

What's all this about, Frank?

What's what, all about?

How you avoiding Corbett ever since the night Craven disappeared?

I told you I didn't want to talk about things.

But you were with him.

I was not.

Craven got out of a car to see somebody.

He left me on Lexington in 1984.

I never saw him after that.

And why do they suspend you from the fall?

Because there are a bunch of sick headed jerks.

Thank you.

I'm not telling the truth.

But you call him the online.

All right, Hazelis.

You want to know what happened to Craven?

You will not tell you he was murdered.

No.

Yes.

Not if you feel better.

Who did it?

I have no idea.

And how do you know he was murdered?

I'm psychic.

Thank you.

Got to tell Sergeant Corbett.

You're nuts.

If you don't, I'll drop you from the forest.

Who cares?

I do.

But we live on.

Don't you worry about that, Hazel.

From now on, it's easy.

And you do know who killed Craven?

That's right.

I've had this party.

You'll appreciate me keeping my mouth shut.

I'm not thinking of blackness.

No.

What am I thinking of, baby?

Where's my coat?

No, I won't let you go.

Get your hands off me, Hazel.

No, Frank.

Get your hands off.

Stop it.

Frank you.

It's choking me.

Frank.

Yes.

I hate to break in on you like this, Mr. Hunter.

But there's a party outside waiting to see me.

I'm busy, Brock.

Yes, I know.

But I suggest you clear a little time for this boy.

I would if I were in your position.

But then you're not in my position, Brock.

It's true.

Just the same you ought to see him.

His name is Frank Walsh.

He's a cop.

So?

So he was Jack Craven psychic.

Craven?

The dick who disappeared so mysteriously.

Oh, of course.

What do you see him?

What have I got to lose?

Hey Walsh.

Yeah.

Come in here.

Sit down, Mr. Walsh.

My name is Hunter.

That's a mighty introduction, isn't it?

I know all about you.

Not all, I trust.

All.

When can I talk to you?

What do you call what you're doing now?

I mean, alone.

Would you be a good fellow, Brock?

Why not?

Nice to know what you want.

Now, I'd like to rest.

Now, what was it you had on your mind, Mr. Walsh?

Well, last Saturday after you closed, you had a visitor up here.

Did I?

Yeah.

Yeah, a dick named Jack Craven.

And you think I know something about his disappearance?

I think you know everything about it.

You see, I was outside when Craven went in to shake you down.

A few minutes after, would I hurt a shot?

So I beat it to the cart.

But 20 minutes later, I saw you coming out of here alone.

So you put two in two together?

And got four.

You killed him, Hunter.

I don't know what you did with his body.

Then you might as well stop there, Mr. Walsh.

Didn't you ever learn that to substantiate a charge of murder?

There must be what the pulp writers call a corpus, Delicta.

I look, Hunter.

You're not brushing me off like this.

We can settle this easily enough.

I'm no pig like some guys.

Give me 20 grand, and you'll never hear from me again.

I think it'd be only fair to warn you, Mr. Walsh,

that I have a distinctive version to being blackmailed.

But you better kick through, because if it's the last thing I do,

I'll find Craven's body.

I wish you luck.

And if you experience too much difficulty,

perhaps I can arrange to have you join him.

Good day, sir.

It's not a sergeant you look worried.

I am, Mike.

Don't think about that Craven mess.

How a cheap rotten grifter.

Well, I've asked me, you've heard the last of that cooking.

It wouldn't be surprised if you were right.

I think he's dead.

I don't know.

Maybe skip two nose.

It's funny about Frank Walsh having a nervous breakdown,

so soon afterwards.

Very funny.

Turn right to the next corner.

What do you want to go?

Don't just see Frank Walsh.

He lives a couple of blocks down.

Didn't his wife tell you he's sick?

Well, doctors, orders are not.

I'm going to have a talk with that guy.

Hey, hold it, Mike.

It's not the car.

What's the matter?

I thought I saw something in the gutter back up.

I guess I was a sergeant.

Yeah, turn on your spotlight.

Oh, it's a drunk.

Wouldn't you know it?

Okay, let's get him.

Can't leave him laying there.

All right, mister.

What do you think you're doing?

Come on on your feet, buster.

Give me a hand with a mic.

Yeah, right.

Very good.

Walsh.

Just two to the eyeballs.

I got a good mind to leave him.

Wait a minute, sergeant.

He isn't drunk. Look at your hand.

Oh, he's been shot.

Yes.

Let's watch. Who did it?

It's only good.

Frank.

It is.

We better get a doctor.

I'll be wasting your time, sergeant.

He is dead.

Yes?

I'm looking for Michael Wary, the falcon.

Well, you made it.

What?

But I bet it was pretty difficult.

What do you mean?

And you couldn't do much looking through that veil.

Come on in.

Frank.

Just make yourself...

What's the trouble?

Well, I was going to ask you to make yourself comfortable,

but somehow I've got a feeling you don't quite trust me.

I don't trust you.

Why else would you carry a gun in your purse?

What are you talking about?

Well, don't tell me it's a compact angel.

Because nothing was a bit odd and never turned out with shape like that.

That the gun that killed Frank Walsh...

Killed Walsh?

Yeah, your husband.

You're crazy.

Aren't you Hazel Walsh?

No.

Well, it's your veil.

Well?

Who told you who I was?

Well, it doesn't take a Einstein to figure that out.

But please look for Hazel Walsh and connection with her husband's murder.

So when a heavily veiled woman carrying a heater walks in on a private detective probe hours later,

and chances are she didn't come to consult him for pleasure.

I didn't kill Frank Walsh to worry.

As with Sergeant Corbett, when we found him, he named you as his killer.

I didn't do it.

You had a motive.

If you mean his insurance policy...

No, I'm not talking about money.

According to Corbett, Frank's favorite indoor sport was bouncing you around.

That's not true.

I don't be easy enough to prove.

Mr. Walsh, I swear I didn't kill Frank.

You've got nothing to hide.

What are you calling?

Sergeant Corbett.

We're going over and have a talk with him.

Put down that phone.

Now look, Mrs. Walsh.

Put it down.

If you want me to work for you...

No, thanks. I've just changed my mind.

I'll look. You're acting like a six-year-old.

Now, I'm going to call the police.

And I say you're going to do nothing of the kind.

See what I mean?

Doesn't please Mr. Walsh?

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Now back to the adventures of the pulpit.

Three hours a pass since Mike was lulled to sleep by his awards.

And now as we find Mike, he's recuperating in Ed's luncheonette...

...under the tender administrations in Sergeant Corbett.

Hey, how about some service here?

What do I face, Sergeant?

A cup of Java for me and a cup of Asperger for my friend here.

Which amount of Mike get a headache?

Yes.

Amper, temper.

I get my hands on that piece of awards.

And you're not going to work for him?

Of course I am.

I just want to teach you you don't go wrong slugging people...

...who are trying to help.

You're making a mistake.

And I'll look, Sergeant.

I tell you, she didn't kill her husband.

And why did she pop you when you were going to call me?

Because she was panicking.

She still doesn't explain why Frank named hers as killer.

But he didn't, really.

He says something about 20 grand.

Maybe he wanted to leave a message for her.

About 20 grand?

Why not?

I suppose he was trying to tell us something.

They're crazy.

A look, Sergeant.

The watch was a graft.

I don't like that kind of thought.

Well, I don't blame you, but you've got to face the facts.

There were always a couple of rotten apples in every barrel.

How many times have you had Frank Walch and Jack Claven on the carpet?

You just couldn't make it stick, that's all.

Go on.

Well, my guess is that Walch tried to shake down Hunter

and hundle him habit.

But why would Walch expect that kind of pay-off from Hunter

just to let him keep running his joint?

He wouldn't.

But he might to keep a murder quiet.

What are you talking about?

Walch must have known who murdered Jack Claven.

Well, he went there last night for pay-off.

And he got it.

Well, assuming you're right, now all we have to do

is find the one party in New York he tried it on.

Well, that should be so hard, Robert.

There was Walch's and Claven's beat.

He sighed from 76 to 85.

Nine blocks.

All right, who's operating a new joint in that district?

What makes you think this is a new operator?

Human nature.

Once a man allows himself to be shaken down,

the odds are he'll go on that way without squawking.

So my guess would be that Claven got his

when he tried his graft and a new customer.

You know, Mike, sometimes I think you've got

the makings of a pretty good detective.

Well, thank you.

And when did Claven disappear?

Four days ago.

Okay, then we can now or don't even find it.

Claven would probably give this boy a chance to operate

a week or two so he'd have some idea what to charge.

Now, who do you know that opened a joint

around the middle of March?

Well, I heard rumors that the guy named Hunter

opened a club around the 14th.

But every time a rating party gets near the place,

they fall off their tables and run.

Okay, let's see if we can run faster.

I'm on my getaway from that real.

Let me tell you about my system.

It's not some other time.

See any sign of Hunter around?

No.

What time do you get?

4-11.

I suppose we try his office.

Where is it?

I think you go through this door.

Yeah.

That room down the hall.

I'm going to flash my branch.

Now, let's keep this unofficial for the moment.

You can close up the joint tomorrow.

A bit of murder to worry about.

Got it?

Hello, Rock.

Well, well, the Falcon, isn't it?

We ain't dropping anything.

Nothing that can't wait.

Oh, what's your plan, Mike?

Well, sorry, Mr. Bachmann.

Hi.

Glad to know you.

Well, what can I do for you, gentlemen?

We'd like to see Hunter and...

What for?

I just want to congratulate him on the establishment he's got here.

Well, tell him when I see him.

Could you arrange for us to do that?

I'm afraid not, Hunter's out of town.

Any idea where?

No, I think you said he might take a little run down to Mexico.

When was this?

About a week ago.

Funny how I would have sworn I saw him in the street, right, didn't I?

Well, you're imagining things.

That must be.

Of course, if he's been gone a week, he wouldn't know anything about Walsh and Craven, huh?

Walsh and Craven?

There's two cops who went into bad luck.

Oh, here's to me.

I heard something about it.

Of course, that's all you'd know about it, huh?

Of course.

Yeah.

Well, thanks a lot, Brock.

I'll be seeing you there.

Let's do that.

Let me go of it.

Oh, sure, sure.

The long Brock.

Boy, you really handle that brilliantly.

Like, head up.

They're setting my head up and covering me.

It's anyone comes.

You know, it's not polite to peek at T-holes.

I know, but it can be awfully informative.

What's he doing?

Making a phone call.

What was he calling?

Well, if he'd keep quiet, I'll find out.

Hello.

Is that humans or not it?

This is Brock.

No business is all right, but some of the customers could be better.

You know who was just asking for you?

Wearing.

Yes, that's right.

Mike wearing the fork and then there was a cop with him.

Of course, I don't make any mistakes.

Do you ask me?

I do.

Wait a minute.

Someone just walking.

Oh, sorry.

Brock, it's only us.

I told you we'd be back.

Oh, now you went and hung up on Mr. Hunter.

That's not nice.

Brock, he's going to be awfully hurt.

What do you want, wearing?

Well, I think you owe Mr. Hunter an apology.

And what would be nicer than if we all went over together

while you paid it?

All right, Brock.

What floor does Hunter live on?

Four.

But you won't find him there.

That's right, Mike.

We forgot.

Hunter's down in Mexico.

Okay, be smart.

But I tell you I wasn't speaking to him.

Got it out, Brock.

We heard you as plain as put beamed.

You're wrong.

I was talking to a girl for the mind.

And so whose name by an odd coincidence was Mr. Hunter.

Okay, what do we go now?

It's apartment 4C.

Oh, that should be it.

Sure enough.

Walter Hunter.

All right, Sergeant, wear your keys.

What was he inside?

No, not a chance.

Must have skipped after Brock here warned him.

But I don't think he could get too far in those 10 minutes.

He got far enough, Mike.

Hey, what's the matter with him?

Well, if you don't know, Brock, take a good look at his face.

A bullet hole ought to be a dead giveaway.

All right, Mike, out of the way.

What's the matter?

I want to see where Hunter was standing when he got it judging

by the course of the bullet.

Well, what do you know?

It is a gun under the chair.

Where?

The one you're sitting on, Brock.

What?

Leave it alone and maybe Prince.

Okay.

Isn't that a police special?

Yeah.

And I'll take even money that it's Frank Wilkes' service revolver.

His wife was awfully careless, Mike.

No, don't tell me you think.

What do you think?

I don't know, but at least I'm not going around making wild guesses.

How do you know it wasn't suicide?

Are you kidding?

Well, it could be.

Don't look like a chump.

We had nothing on Hunter.

Why should he blow his brains out?

Well, why should Hazel Walsh do it for him?

Maybe she figured that he knocked off her husband.

Well, then you admit she wasn't guilty of that.

I admit that he owes me, gentlemen.

But can I get a word in?

What do you want, Brock?

There's a hunk of paper under Hunter's leg.

Oh, never mind, Mike.

I'll take care of that.

What is it?

Give me a chance for him.

The moment may concern.

I killed Jack Craven and Frank Walsh.

I should like my remains to be cremated.

Walter Hunter.

What do you say now, Todd?

I say, don't sh me.

I'm just coming at the door.

Turn off the lights.

There we are, Brock.

Okay, pal.

What do you want?

Go.

Behave it.

Good.

I said, Behave.

Turn on the lights, Mike.

Come on.

Hmm, crummy-looking bum.

Hey, you know him?

Yeah, and I wish I didn't.

This is Detective Jack Craven.

Jack Craven?

Yeah, my long-lost buddy.

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Remember, it's lighter-bodied because it's super-fined.

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Now, back to the adventures of the falcon.

Just five minutes have passed since Jack Craven made his dramatic inference.

And strangely enough, Sergeant Corpett doesn't seem any too pleased by his reappearance.

Come on, Craven. Start spilling.

I want to hear you make like Niagara.

I don't know what you're talking about, son.

Why are you cheap when you watch it, Corpett?

You keep out of this, Mike.

This is strictly departmental.

How do you think all the other boys on the fourth field?

We work like dogs to make the public trust us.

How long comes a rotten graft or like Craven and gives every honest cop a black eye?

All right, but there's a stranger's present.

Don't mind me, folks.

I'm broad-minded.

You'll keep your mouth shut, Brock.

If you know what's good for you, I'll be as quiet as much.

All right, Craven.

I asked you a question.

What?

Answer me. Why did you kill Hunter?

I didn't.

Why did you come back to his apartment?

I didn't come back.

That was the first time I was there.

Oh, get me that.

Can I put my two cents inside?

Go ahead.

You've been going for almost a week, Craven.

Where you've been?

Austin inches.

Why'd you go there?

None of your business in Craven.

You answer wearing questions just as if I was asking them.

Why did you go there?

I wanted to see my relatives.

And you certainly didn't travel on the supercheap.

From the look of it, I'd say you did most of your riding in a cattle car.

What's the matter?

Couldn't Hunter afford any better transportation?

Hunter had nothing to do with it.

Your power, Frank, wore, said the support your story.

War?

Did he stew on me?

What do you think?

You had a fight with Hunter, didn't you?

Yeah, he put me.

How about why? That doesn't matter.

He dumped me in a cattle car when I came to I was in LA.

Why didn't you wire us?

I had no dough.

You could have done it collect.

I didn't want to involve the department.

Well, that's understandable.

Especially if you wanted to come back to kill Hunter.

I tell you I didn't kill him.

I just got in a town tonight.

That doesn't prove a thing.

Where were you with 1015?

Why?

Because according to the coroner's report I just got,

that's what Hunter was killed.

Now listen, son.

Start that suicide routine again, Mike.

If Hunter wrote that note, he would have known darn well.

He hadn't killed Craven here.

Where were you with 1015 Craven?

Being chased all over the freight yards by some railroad dicks.

If you don't believe me, you can call the odds and check.

Don't think I won't.

I just a minute, Sergeant.

Does this mean you're writing off Hazel Walsh as a suspect?

No.

Then I'd like you to double the force looking for him.

Let me understand you, Mike.

You think Craven here is telling the truth?

I do.

And Mrs. Walsh is our party.

No, I didn't say that.

I ask you, Brock.

Ain't it enough to drive a guy back?

Don't ask him, Sergeant.

This thing is driving you crazy.

Who do you think is responsible?

Just what is that supposed to mean?

Just what it sounded like, Brock.

You killed Walsh and Hunter.

I don't know how I can ever repay you, Mike.

Forget it, Hazel.

I'm only glad it ended the way it did.

So it was Brock who killed my husband?

Yeah, but he doesn't mean to frame you.

He thought it would take care of Hunter.

But when Frank booted your name to Sergeant Corbett and myself,

that upset his plans.

But why did Brock want to frame his boss?

Well, Hunter had a very nice thing in the club.

And Brock figured he was capable enough to handle it

with Hunter out of the way.

I still don't see why he murdered Frank.

According to that note, Brock thought that Hunter had killed Craven?

Yes, but I didn't do him any good because there was no trace of Craven's body.

And the corpus de Lechti is essential in any frame.

That is why I was necessary for him to supply a body

that would lead directly to Hunter.

But Frank never even mentioned the man's name to me.

Well, Brock had no way of knowing that.

Then when it looked like all his plans were going for not,

he wrote that suicide note and killed Hunter,

thinking that would tie up all the loose ends.

Well, where did Brock give himself away?

When Sergeant Corbett and I were at the club.

Before we went into the office to see Brock,

I asked Corbett at the time.

He did with a quarter to eleven.

A few minutes after that,

we either dropped on Brock talking to Hunter on the phone.

What's wrong with that?

Well, I was a conversation that never could have taken place.

According to the autopsy report,

Hunter was killed at 10.15, a half hour earlier.

And that business on the phone was staged by Brock

to give himself an alibi.

And he felt pretty sure that Corbett and I were listening in.

So did that answer all your questions?

I'll spoil you answer one of mine.

Where did you bury yourself so that the entire New York police force

couldn't find you?

I'd take with my sister-in-law.

Your sister-in-law?

Yes.

She looked like you.

She's much prettier.

I hope there's one thing I've learned from this case.

Never to believe any testimony based on his, say, evidence.

Well, I don't know what I can do to convince you.

No, that's very easy, Angel.

Just give me her address and let me see for myself.

Folks, let's talk about enjoyment.

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Craft caramels come in regular caramel flavor and in chocolate flavor.

Both flavors are delightful.

The important thing to remember is this.

Whenever you want real candy and enjoyment, be sure you get craft, dairy-fresh caramel.

The case of the unwelcome wife.

The case of the unwelcome wife.

At the title of next week's adventure of the falcon,

when mic-wearing learns that when a girl pretends to be married to an already married man,

the result can be murdered.

So be sure to listen at this same time next week to another exciting adventure of the falcon,

brought to you by the craft foods company.

The adventures of the falcon are based on the famous character created by Vexel Drake,

produced by Bernard L. Schubert, written today by Eugene Wang,

and directed by Richard Lewis.

Music was by Arlo.

Les Payman was starred as the falcon with Ken Lynch, a sergeant servant.

Be sure to hear the great guilt of sleep next Wednesday evening over most of these stations.

In next Wednesday's broadcast, guilty comes face-to-face and then hilarious problem

and solves it in a way that will keep you laughing for days.

Remember the show, the time, and the play.

The great guilt of sleep next Wednesday evening over most of these stations.

Check your local newspaper for time of broadcast.

This is Ed Hurley, he's speaking for the craft foods company.

Raymond Massey and Shirley Booth, star on theater guild tonight on NBC.