The Sherman Gates Murder Case

Broadway's My Beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the godiest, the most violent, the lonesome-est mile in the world. Broadway's My Beat, with Larry Thor as detective Danny Clover. Broadway, it's the glittering center of a glittering universe that's propped against the shadows, and its desolation, a gaudy room with a lie in its teeth.

and the lie is in gorgeous technicolor, the screaming of trumpets and the dancing of the streets. And there's silence too. So still, so empty you can hear a teardrop. Whatever it is, it's Broadway. My beat.

After midnight, Broadway is a place that pulls up stakes. Wives lead husbands home to their cages. Bartenders sweep up the sawdust and a few drunken clowns. A tired voice invited to a side show. And you keep walking, and then a voice calls your name.

Danny! Wait a minute Danny! Danny! And it's the voice of Maxi Stern, manager of the most colossal, most dependous, most nothing movie crib on Broadway. Danny, come quick, huh? Real quick. I am actually... Hi Danny, come quick please, huh? What's the matter? Somebody doesn't like the picture?

He's sitting in a lotion, he won't go home and the picture is long since over. Maybe he's waiting for the prices to change. Oh, no, I think the gentleman who was occupying my lozier's dead.

Come quick, come, actually. The way we discovered him, Danny, is one of my chow women who sweet's Arthur, the theatre, who is sweeping out the lozier's. This gentleman she can't politely bite, so she calls her private.

Huh? And now she who's at the bottom of the rung of success. The private calls are corporal. Corporal calls are nuts. Finally it gets the head, ushering. He calls me. And I verify the opinion that the lozier's dead.