Hello and welcome to another episode of Nostologic Mystery Radio.

I'm your host, Stevie K.

And it's my honor to bring you the radio shows of yesteryear.

For this episode, I bring you Philo Vance, episode titled The Poetic Murder Case, originally aired August 24th, 1948, where three of the city's dramatic critics have

been murdered and all three had bits of poetry pinned to their chest when found.

So sit back and relax, and I hope you enjoy this nostalgic mystery radio.

Thank you for listening. Sergeant Heath, I tell you this is ridiculous. Two men murdered, murdered in the same way, and apparently by the same person, and you say you haven't even a single clue. What kind of a homicide department is this? It's a good one, Commissioner. Just give me a little time. These murders were only committed in the past 12 hours. But the victims were newspaper men, heathed. Do you understand? Newspaper men.

The papers they worked on will needle us for days if we don't get results. I want fast work on this, do you hear me? Fast work and no alibage. We're working on it, Commissioner, and the dead men weren't really newspaper men. They were critics, dramatic critics. Same thing. Somebody's making a joke out of this department, killing two dramatic critics and leaving poetry pinned to their chest through the knife.

Let's see those poems.

That's it. Critics. Same thing. Somebody's making a joke out of this department, killing two dramatic critics and leaving poetry pinned to their chests with a knife. Let's see those poems. Let's see them. Here's the one we found on the first body commission, the body of Robert Carnes. But it's no clue. Believe me, it's no clue. He was the leading critic he always would insist, and that's the reason that I placed him first on my list. It's going to be an epidemic, that's what it's going to be. Give it the second poem, the one you found on Roger Dakin's body. Yes, sir, here you are. It's a first-rate critic you did rate high, and the first-rate critic is the second to die. Oh, take it, take it, Heath.

Take both of these poems and get me the man who wrote them,

and get him fast before he murders every critic in the city.

Are you busy, Mr. Markham?

Very busy, I mean.

The district attorney is never too busy to talk to the homicide department chief.

What is it, Heath?

Well, it's a commissioner.

He's riding me on those critic murders.

I can't do miracles.

I've checked every clue.

There's nothing I've found that's any good to me.

Try and tell him that, though.

...