Matson49-12-2727Nc9-8012

Hello, Yukon 2-8-2-09. Yes, this is Candy-Matson. The National Broadcasting Company presents Candy-Matson, Yukon 2-8-2-09. Just a moment. People can barge in on you at the...

Where is that... It's better than nothing. Wait a second. Hi, Candy. Well, Mel-er-ed. My favorite foot flat. You caught me at the wrong time. depends on your viewpoint. Shall I leave? No, no, come on in. What brings you up to telegratiel, Melardere? You. An interesting subject. Care for a drink? No, I'm on duty.

You mean I'm being honored with an official call? Sort of. In that case, you can leave. No, seriously, can't he? You can help me, if you will. Well, the mountain coming to the mountain. Oh, you're not so large? No, you can leave. Only kidding. Here's a pitch. An An acquaintance of mine, Gordon Ayres, has a little problem on his hands.

He needs your help. What is this? Don't get excited, Candy. He's an insurance adjuster for an aviation outfit here in San Francisco. A couple of months ago, a guy and his wife took off in a private plane from one of those little airports down the peninsula and crashed.

She burned to death. Ayres investigated and okayed the claim. A rather fancy amount. But his company doesn't like it. They don't think the crash was legit. gets interesting. He has to prove he was right.

He came to me, wanted us to verify the facts. But we're the San Francisco police, and that's out of our jurisdiction. So? So I mentioned you. He wants to meet you and have a little talk.

If you can get the guy out of the suit, there's a nice little hunk of cabbage in it for you. Mallard, I'll take it, but there's something phony. How do you mean, Kenny? This is the first time you've ever given me a helping hand in my private eye.