Angel of Death

William Gargan stars as Barry Craig confidential investigator It's okay to cut a competitive down a few notches, but never cut him six feet lower than the soles of his feet That's no longer fair competition folks That's murder The National Broadcasting Company presents William Gargan in another transcribed drama of mystery and adventure with America's number one detective Barry Craig

confidential investigator One way of landing a client is to fish him out of the river, which is exactly how I commends to my confidential file in a character named Richie Stimson. I jump with my shoes on.

I found Stimson's hat before I found Stimson. Nobody rescues a hat, so I didn't. When Stimson finally bobbed into reach, he promptly stuck one thumb in my eye and the remaining one in my juggle thing.

Another thing nobody wants to do is drown in his strangers embrace. When his jaw came up flush with the surface, I landed on it. He lay quietly on his back now, spouting water from the mouth like Moby Dick, and I began floating him to shore.

Unsure the closest shelter we could find was a junk dealer's basement store. I stuck Moby Dick right up against the stove so he could dry out. One addling icicles melt busty. Then I got my shoes off.

Oh, squish. I've been really walking in canal boats. Rescue a guy from drowning, you expect his first beets to be thank you, but not this joker. My car. Hey, what about my car? Oh, I'm keeping it as a souvenir of the occasion.

Hey, it's a brand new job. The fish will be pleased to know. We'll close them in it, Foster. We? That's close enough. I want to smell your breath. Hmm. I wasn't drunk going through that guardrail. Get that idea out of your head.