The Poison Pen Murders Tom Mercer

The big story Here I finished I just finished it sit down heaven this gate armless today What are you doing in this store? You aren't working a masterpiece? Listen listen, that the Adam they mopulates Dr. Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra No Herman not another letter in your so-called orchestra is a so-called violin player in paper

If there is a verse violin player in the world, I do not know him That enough that he is a power musician. As a human being, he has got the German. Someday you write one too many of those letters.

Someday you will be sitting here like now, alone, afterwards. And the door will open. And... Herman... The door is opening. The customers know Herman. It's not a customer. It's... ... ... ... ... The story of a man who was hated and of a reporter who proved that death and hate are often partnered.

Story as it actually happened. Tom Mercer's story as he lived it. Cincinnati, Ohio. You're a big man, Tom Mercer. 200 pounds big.

6 feet, 1 inch big. And because you're big and easygoing, you're a target and easy mind. A couple of years ago, as a young reporter, you made a mistake. You took an ordinary death and called it murder.

You went and saw that murder in print. And then it came out, it wasn't murder at all. And the laugh was heard all over Cincinnati. It still heard. Wherever you go, they say of you, ah, that goes Mercer's a great flute.

Not to make another name for himself. And so, when this story broke, A killing in the standard laundry at 62-16 Central Parkway. All the boys in the press room at the least headquarters said, Well, we don't have to cover it, not with Mercer on the job.