Welcome back to Case Closed Mystery and Crime from the Golden Age of Radio every Wednesday at relicradio.com.

Our first story comes from Broadway is My Beat this week.

We'll hear the Charles Crandall murder case from May 12, 195.

After that, it's the adventures of Ellery Queen and the adventure of Nick the Knife from August 1st, 1945.

Broadway's My Beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle,

the gaudiest, the most violent, the lonesomest mile in the world.

Broadway's My Beat, with Larry Thor as Detective Danny Clover.

In the mid-afternoon light of Maytime, Broadway shimmers and languor walks the street.

The dream walk, rhythm to the pulse of the sleeping neon, to the sun-worned blue's yawned out of loudspeakers,

to the slow, erratic dance of the litter of night, held close, thrown away by a gutter wind.

And with the rest of Broadway, you stand and watch, or follow the crowd, and lend

your heart to the whispered cry that this day, this time, will not get away from you.

But it does. It always does.

The web of blood in the alley was already dust-heavy.

Its threads leading you to the man huddled in a forgotten anguish

against the flaking brick of an alley wall.

His hand still clutched to the bullet wound as if he tried to claw out the pain and never made it.

And the other man leaning over him being gentle and polite

as he searched the dead man's pockets, then finding something and looking at it, then making the only observation left you. It's a nice day, wasn't it, Danny? What did you find, Muggan? Found him like that, all broken up about the bullet in his chest. Try to tell me why it was there. The word never got out. It was phoned in? Yeah, from the back room of a bar down in the alley.

A friendly chap wandered out for a breath of fresh air. Saw this. Ran back to the bar, made his phone call. Bought drinks for the house. He's still celebrating if you want to talk to. You talk to him? Yeah, friendly, Lush, invited me to a cold beer. I didn't take it. He knew this man.

Never had the pleasure, he told me.

All the citizens of the alley never had the pleasure.

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