The Joe Quito Murder Case

Broadway's My Beat, from Times Square to Columbus Circle, the gaudiest, 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 marketplace for the vendors of laughter and agony, of terror and decay.

Their shadows stand by the shadows of gilded push cards piled high with the remnants of dreams, the remnants of desires. They'll bargain with you these vendors. The dreams were dreamed on the edge of night, and the desires special, very special.

And you buy because there's nothing else to buy. It's Broadway, my beat. On a clock in the morning, the tunnel that made you from Grand Central to the Times Square shuttle is deserted and bleak and almost clean.

You notice these things because the tiled walls dirtyed with a film of yellow light stretch out in front of you. And some were ahead of you, seem to close in on themselves. Suddenly the sickness is inside you.

The feeling that there's no exit. No exit anywhere. You hurry against it. And you see the back of a man that looks familiar. You call out to him. Even if the man is Joe Keato.

Joe? Joe Keato? I thought it was you, Joe. Back with us, huh? Yeah, I'm back. But not with you, policeman. I'm back alone by myself. Pretty and easy. You're gonna keep it that way, Joe?

If you keep out of my way, policeman, I'll be good boy. If you spread your lousy wings over me like a mother hen, I don't know what I do. Something ugly maybe. The loose mouth, Joe. Watch it.

Or 12 years I've been watching it for 12, 30, Rock and Years. Now I'm free and easy like you policemen. My mouth talks how it likes. You weren't happy at singing, Joe. You should have been.