The Joyce Tyler Murder Case

Broadway's My Beat, from time short to the lumber circle, the gaudiot, the most violent, the long-somest mile in the world. Broadway's My Beat, transcribed with Larry Thor as detective Danny Clover. A twilight of August folds itself into end of daytime, and Broadway reacts, Langer walks the street.

The after-work walk, the beginning dream walk, rhythm to the pulse of waking neon, and a The drifting carousel whispers as street carnival begins, promises and textures spun by alto sacks in the upstairs dance pavilion.

Call for dancers. The hawkers setting their wares adrift on August winds. Call for buyers. And line up for the pitchman. And be shoved and pushed and mauled, and no bitterness. For the taste of this twilight melts in your mouth.

You will wait the night if you have to. As vast room draped in darkening silk against the fall twilight, and seated cross-legged on high polish a floor, cluster of men and women in evening dress, coupled spectators of a performance on small velvet carpeted stage, performance of puppets, life size, Chinese, Mandarin princess, Manchu warrior,

acting, reacting, accomplishing the nuances of a flute, and also reaction of the spectators. And on their side, a woman turns her head, observes in intently every individual response, laugh softly, silently, then sees you, rises, dance-like, holds the slit of the metallic embroidered Chinese robe as she glides towards you.

I believe I do believe my guests are enjoying themselves. Mrs. Tyler? Yes, your is Tyler, and I'm so deeply glad my butter, I should you in here so you can see for yourself, aren't you deeply glad?

You phone headquarters, you said you had this. Wait, look at this. Look at those Eastern pockets. Look, my own mind. Mrs. Tyler, the cocktail party of mine will never be forgotten as long as my guests shall live.