Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar: Who Took the Taxis for a Ride

Everybody knows that Taxi Driver likes being over-tipped, but you can't blame him from not liking being tipped over. This is another in the adventures of America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator, Johnny Dollar. At insurance investigation, he's only an expert.

At making out his expense account, he's an absolute genius. Expense account, submitted by Special Investigator, Johnny Dollar. Two, home office, the Nutmeg State liability underwriters, Hartford, Connecticut. The following is an accounting of my expenditures during my investigation of the disappearance of 12 apex calves.

Or who took the taxis for a ride. Expense accounts, item one, $3.10, train fare, Hartford to New York. Item two, $1.10, dinner on route. $3? $18. Club car. Spencer Cowlett, I'm 4. I've done a $30.

Cab fare from station to garage and offices of Apex Taxi Company. I naturally waited for an Apex cab, but could have saved my time. The driver told me nothing. Except that the man who came rushing out of the Apex office when we pulled up was the big boss, Mr. Gordon McKissick.

Thanks, driver. He's just the man I'm looking for here. Thank you, sir. Hey, McKissick! I can't stop now. I'm in a hurry. See me tomorrow. Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute.

I'm Johnny Dollar from the insurance company. Oh, oh good, that's different, just in time, come along. Where are we going? Come on, tell you in the car. Just had to call from the police. Another one of my cabs had been stolen.

They found the driver slugging unconscious, and I gotta get out of there. I tell you a dollar, I'm going crazy, this is gonna stop. It's not only driving me out of business, it's driving me out of my mind.

The police have done their best, Lord knows I have too, but I'm about ready to give up. This makes 12 of my taxi cabs disappear off the face of the earth, it's fantastic. I can't believe it.

It was both a favor, will you? Well, play cucumber for a few seconds. Remember, the insurance company I represent has plenty to scream about too. What I need is some facts. I have some company facts.

And if this keeps up, I won't have any taxis. They're gone. That's all. Twelve of them. That's all the risk to it. Any idea of a motive? Some new kind of car theft? That's what the cops say.

Okay. What's your idea? Robbing the drivers? You don't have to steal a cab to rob a driver. It's ridiculous. All right, then. What else could it be? Competition? Sabotage? That's my guess. Competition. So far it's only a guess. I'd give anything to know.

So are the insurance company? Anything. They'd even give up my happy young life. This is it. 13th and East River. And there's the crowd. Humanity's strongest magnets. Blood. Yeah. Go back. Please. Stand back. Come on.

The officer. Officer. Look, here's my ID. This man is McKissick. The victim's boss. How about getting us through that crowd? Well, all right. But I don't know. The right side of his face don't feel much like talking.

It's caved in. Stand aside now. Come on. Move. I'll get it. Come on, let's win it. Okay. I can't breathe in here. Let alone the hurt, man. Now, will you? Okay, Mr. Daller. Here you are.

Oh. Hey, are they all right? Is this one of your men, LaChisic? Yeah, George Brandon. Been with me four years. I... Oh... Brandon. Brandon, listen. Uh... Who did it? Do you know who did it?

Try hard, will you? Oh, never... From... For... Yeah, yeah. Yeah, Brandon, only one. Well, what did he look like? Come on, boy. Hey, who... Little guy... George... Talk funny. He talked funny. How Brandon? How? An accent?

Pfft. Pfft. Pfft. Come on, Brandon. Well, that's it. I'll tell the wife, stand back. Turn the way for the ambulance. The ambulance. The ambulance turns out to be the wrong kind of a wagon. Spencer Count? Item five. $28.

Transportation the following day, visiting hospitals in the homes of the other 11 Apex drivers who had lost their calves. During the course of this, I contracted a severe case of what G.I.s used to refer to as jeep-seat.

Out of eleven interviews, I got three clues. One that up until last night's killing, the cab-nappers had worked as a team. The little dark guy with an accent, as described by the dead driver Brandon, and a 300-pound accomplice, wearing a seer-sucker suit, a Panama hat, and a complexion akin to a perspiring blob of leaf-log.

This heavier of the two heavies, it seemed, never actively participated in any of the rough stuff, merely assuming the role of director of operations. Clue number two, that in each instance the driver's uniform camp was also stolen, which indicated to me merely that the getaway driver was very much interested in looking like a

cab driver. And finally, Clue number three, from the most disgruntled of the driver's interviews, the In fact, the fleet owner of McKissick had spent three years bootlegging, another for bookmaking, and had spent some very short vacations getting away from it all in prison, which naturally led me back to McKissick's apex garage in office.

Well, I'll tell you, McKissick, so far I've just hit the ABCs. Later on, I'll get to the XYZ. Look, dollar, I'm getting fed up with double talk. What I want to talk about is a double life. Yours.

What? I once broke a leg jumping to a conclusion, so don't get me wrong. That's not what I'm doing. But a less experienced investigator might immediately assume that a man like you, an ex-bootlegger, ex-bookmaker, ex-jail bird, just might be stealing his own calves for the insurance money.

Smaller. Now wait a minute. Don't get that way, or I might also get the idea that you have a killer instinct. My record's my own business. It was okay with the hack, you know. It was okay when that company saw me the insurance, so it'll have to be okay with you because you're stuck with it.

Nobody's calling you guilty. Okay. Okay, all I'm telling is this. I want your calves off the street until this thing is cleared up. That's big talk, little man. When the day shift comes in at 4.30, tell them to park their calves in the garage.

And you can tell you to spat you. The night shift isn't working tonight. Bad enough to have my competition running me out of business. Now the little helper from the insurance company shows up to finish the job, huh?

I'm not trying to put you out of business. I'm trying to keep you in. Well, it don't sound like it. No cooperation from you. No insurance. I'll have a cancel as fast as I can get to my phone.

How about it? Okay, dollar. I can't do anything about it. But if I were you, I wouldn't be caught hanging around here by any one of those drivers you're putting out of work. Some of them play rough.

["Pomp and Circumstance"] You can always depend on a cab driver for being on time when it's time to knock off work. By five o'clock the garage was full of taxis and carbon monoxide fumes. By five thirty it was devoid of humanity and a night watchman I'd met before stood guard outside the lock gate. At six o'clock a visitor dropped in on, followed almost immediately by me.

You're so important that I find the area. It contains everything I have in the world almost. Oh my money, even my purse. What's this, Vinnie? Oh, Mr. Dolly. Yeah, yeah. Well, the young lady claimed she lost my purse, and you're...

I hired one of your taxi cab this afternoon and left my purse in it. So important that I did it. Yeah, yeah. I told her to call Austin found in the morning. But then you're what will I do tonight?

Why were trying to figure that out? Did you join me in a drink? I would like that. Her name was Marita Guastilla. She was a dark type. So I took her around the corner to a dark salon.

On the way in, we passed four grumbling apex cab drivers, shooting hot looks at me over cold beers. I arranged her in a booth so I could keep an eye on them, in case their intentions were no good.

And an ear on her story, which I knew was it. This is my first trip to America. I came from Spain two weeks ago. At least afternoon I was shopping on P5 and UN. That is when I took the cab from 49th Street to the Sherry Netherlands Hotel.

Ah-hah, 49th. Sherry Netherlands. Yes. What time you take the cab? Wait. I'm not sure, exactly. It was exactly ten minutes after four. I remember now I looked at a clock. And what time did you arrive at the hotel, Maria?

Why are you writing all these songs? I was trying to help you find your purse. But I do not want to put you to any trouble. I am perfectly willing to search through the taxes myself.

Honey, the city of New York has gone to a lot of trouble to save you that trouble. Every driver has to keep a record of every trip, where he picks up his passengers, where he drops them and when.

and when. He puts it on a big card. So all we have to do is find out which card has your trip listed on, then we'll know which cab. Then we'll go to the little cab and probably find your little purse. All right? It's very good of you, anyway. If you would not mind

the trouble. Sometimes bothering with this kind of trouble eliminates my employer's troubles. Alba la Martini. Spence account item six. Four dollars bar tab. Tip to waiter. One dollar. And here's a tip to young ladies who were pretending that they just came from Spain two weeks ago.

Don't want to birdbath martinis and put them away in one gulp. The drinking taste of Spanish ladies is more the sherry type. And martinis are hard enough to get used to in two years, let alone two weeks.

Or who knows, maybe she was just in a hurry to get to the Spanish olives. One thing was fairly apparent though, she seemed to be in a hurry to get something out of one of those cabs, and not by way of the lost and found apartment.

I could do, both as a gentleman and an insurance investigator, was to accept her phony sounding story and take her back to the garage. I arm and arm the sometimes-singerita around the block, passing the time in a conversation not exactly based on our mother's favorite recipe or a rosary-comboil.

As we passed the office portion of the apex cap building, I gave up looking into her eyes and saw something that was open even wider, the garage gate. What is it? The watchman is gone.

Perhaps he just stepped inside. Look at the stains on the sidewalk. For what? Right well. Just be... Bride well. Who's bride well? I do not know. Who's bride well? Please, let me go. Let me go. Please, John.

Marita had twisted away and was high tailing it up the street. I went stamping up the ramp and the direction of the source of the stream. On the way up I hit the light switch.

And this racket even big boy should be afraid of the dark. The first portal I slowed my run into a pussyfoot pace. an edged around the corner sliding my back along at his Thatcher's counter.

I got halfway down. The corner of my right eye picked off a pair of high black shoes, night watchmen tight. Heels on the floor, toes pointed up, sticking out from behind the end of the counter.

I didn't have time to get a look at the rest of them. Something so round, so firm, and so fully loaded gave me a cold steel kiss under the left ear. Pray to yourself the favor, sir, the remaining absolutely scared.

Now, now you may turn around. But, uh, this be Mr. Bridewell? Good indeed, sir. What about the night watchman? There are no fears for him. I'm fortunately accomplished in the administration of first aid. But a good deal of practice.

I've seen two of it that he's resting comfortably. I'll bet. Well, Victor, my boy. I trust your search for successful. Sir, sir. Eh, somebody feed us to us. All in cabs has been searched. Nonsense, my boy. How can you tell in so short a time?

How about picking on look for yourself, fat boy? You couldn't possibly have picked over all of them. Proceed to the search quickly. In the meantime, perhaps our friend here is the proprietor of the search that preceded us.

And this case, practically anything could happen. Yes, any could. Knowing that should encourage you to mind your manners. How, sir? Will you come to me to my hotel where we can discuss this weather? with you holding that 38 caliber steel engraved invitation in your hand, I'd be a perfect cad to refuse.

In just a moment we'll return to the second act of yours truly Johnny Dollar. But first, your armed forces are constantly searching for new methods and devices for national security and better peacetime living. Today's serviceman is a skilled professional who works with advanced techniques and equipment.

If you're interested in science and technical subjects, your armed forces offers you a great opportunity now. Find out how you can join the world's greatest scientific enterprise, the armed forces of the United States. Now with our star Charles Russell, we return to the second act of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, and tonight's story,

Who Took the Taxis for a Ride? Looking for some stolen taxi cabs and wound up in a hotel room looking stupid. Not wishing to make this a permanent effect. I put my mind to work and the fruits of its labor went something like this. Whoever had been stealing those cabs, and I figured I was face to face with one of them now, had not been stealing

the apex rolling stock for the cabs themselves, but for something evidently hidden in one of them. From here on in it was only one way to play it, by ear. That was easy because the pasty-faced 300-pounder draped in a double-breasted seersucker tent was doing all the talking.

2012 when I was expelled from Oxford University as a result of an unfortunate association with an unscrupulous pocket I arrived at this decision, sir. It's sometimes not profitable to be on the apparently right side. I make myself clear.

Well, in a roundabout way, I think so. Now then, I am thus fully acquainted with my position in regard to this matter of the scarlet Madonna. But you, where do you stand? I'm running a one-man escrowate service for Marita Guastella.

Marita. So, the lovely but unwise Marita has taken unto herself in a couple of issues. Well, as long as you are allied with her, you and I must be across public. I'm open to suggestion.

Good. The girl is nothing more than a penniless adventure as a cover thief. But I, sir, may be able to tempt your trenchant loyalties with some very fetching curve. Well, Victor. Mr. Tom, man, all right.

I knocked it out of that night watchman when he came to. There was only one guy in a garage beside us. That's us, him. That's got to work, man. That's got to work. Yeah, here, Victor.

This is not the time for violence. The gentlemen and I are about to discuss terms of mutual profit. Oh, you're not sure? You were discussing. I was listening. Yes. You'll find that I can be concise when the situation demands that I be.

Shall we start with our fingers, say $5,000? I got nuts. I mean, what come open? Victor, you can't remember that I deploy violence. Bad. Well, young man, what do you say? Nuts to your $5,000, Mr. Bridewell.

What? Heavens, man. Have you lost your mind? What do you think the Scarlet Madonna is worth too? Well, so far it's been worth one man's life, 12 taxi cabs, and a used car lot that comes to more than $5,000.

$7,500 there? Keep coming. I'll say here now. There's not only a limit to my generosity. There's a limit to my patience. How else do you expect to realize that you're here to profit? I haven't made up my mind.

Perhaps I can help you. Here are the problems you face. The Scarlet Madonna is no ordinary gem to be disposed of through the ordinary channels. You serve the faintest notion, the importance of the girl.

I've got a hunch I can retire for life on. Very short life it might be. To be a pity if your blood were mixed with that already shed through the centuries over the scarlet, and down I don't waste time with that story fat stuff.

We haven't got all week. My purpose in this repetitious recitation is bona fide. The bloody history may convince our friend that no one since the year 1256 been able to share for any appreciable length of time the company of the scholar Madonna that was the year it was fashion we won the vestments of John

of his sense lost 20 that year he was ordered by Alexander the fourth to hasten the province of Tuscany to aid in the routing of the heritage there John was murdered and robbed of this jewel and since that date there's never ceased its bloody journey through history England France and Spain don't forget the

Pirate that stuff. Thank you, Vic. Well, your helpful interest. Indeed, it is true. During one of its bloodier experiences, it was woven into the beard of an alsection fire, from which its hair when its head tumbled into the basket of Eniguchi.

Yeah, that one, too, Vic. You seen Mr. Donkelwusen, your head. I'm trying not to. But, Brian, well, if this rock is so hot, how come you're willing to risk your pudgy little neck for it?

Victor here and I are only the temporary middlemen for this infamous death. You aren't yet. Am I to understand that you refuse? Well, I must say you tell a very good story. But the answer is still nothing doing.

I told you fat stuff. We're wasting that breath on the sky! Enough Victor, that's enough. You know, get up, you're mad. You're only a real ruthless junkie. Yes, no, there won't be necessary. Put your hands up please.

Now Victor, for three pockets, not that anyone will be foolish enough to carry the Scarlet Madonna. Okay now. That easy. Oh, you'll check your teeth out. Don't try it. Hey. You know what we got here?

Sure it's thick. No Victor, one gun is enough. Not for me it ain't. You must be from the company ensuring the rocket. No, no Victor. I am thoroughly familiar with the policies covering the Scarlet Madonna.

What's the gentleman's name? Johnny, you had... Dollar. From... Hotfoot, Connecticut. And right now, thinking there's no place like home. I'm leaving. No, not alive, you wink. We can't let him out of here. He's red-hotfoot.

Let's down your weapon, Victor. He's been trouble enough. Hunter. Now you don't. Oh, yes, I do. Back off, Buster. Victor, I must insist. Let him get away. I'm not a box of sweat, darling. Insurance is best together or whatever.

If he knows whether you will leave. You will leave. He's more good for his lives than dead. More valuable than he's gone. The elevators weren't fast enough. I hit every fourth step down. Eight flights of stairs to the lobby and out into the street.

Hello. Johnny. J'v'n'am I see you. Marita. Well, this saves me looking for you. You just tag right along. Taxi! Very awesome. After you, Lady of Spain. Thank you, Jane. You're welcome. Oh, my poor Johnny.

What did they do to you? A gentleman named Victor hung a right hand on me, complete with signet ring. Oh, John. Oh, never mind that hanky. I'm not going to be mad at it. I'm so sorry.

Johnnie, what did they tell you? Oh, no, you don't. First I want to hear what you have to tell me. Then we'll compare stories. Great. There's not much to tell. This scarlet Madonna is rightfully and legally mine.

My only crime was to bring it into this country illegally for customs. I met Bridewell and that horrible vicar on the ship. And when I got to New York, I realized that they were following me.

I was terrified. That I'll believe. I was in a taxi cabin. They followed me in another. It forced us to occur. But I hid the jewel in the upholstery of the taxi. Then I jumped on him, fled for my life.

I remember it. That it was an apex cab. I'd been trying to find the exact one ever seen. So apparently you think. How they find out. They run after me that night. searched me and all of my belongings.

Then when I started my search, they realized what I was doing. Looks like anybody can catch the brass ring on this merry-go-round. Please, Johnny, tell me that you will help me to recover the Madonna.

Look, gorgeous. All I'm trying to catch up with is a dozen stolen taxi cads. But you are not just going to leave me flat. With that figure, impossible. I took Marita to a small hotel, got her a room, And, uh, while she was taking a bath, I stole her clothes and left her, locked in that strong as the Midtown prisons, nudity.

The first joker I went looking for back at the apex garage was the unfortunate night watchman. I found him sitting up and taking nourishment out of a bottle, and nursing an egg on his head that would have hatched an ostrich.

Oh, Mr. Dollar! Yeah. I tell you, I've been worried about you. Yeah, yeah. Thank heavens, you're all right. No, thanks to you. No. What do you mean, sir? I mean, why did you tell that sort of eight who slugged you around that I searched these cabs in here last night?

Well, I didn't mention you, sir. I told him it was a boss. Macgisic. Huh? Yeah, yeah. Macgisic. Where's he now, you know? He just came by, I believe, his next door in his office. Thanks.

Yeah, yeah. Macgisic. Macgisic is developing more suspects than a garlic breath and a crowded elevator. That's funny. I'm a couple of bullets. Come. I tied a level with him. I'm going to try to level it.

Ten pounds on this, my top four. Ten it old. Let's see your money. You don't trust me, I don't trust you. I'd like to hedge a chance. Now, I'm there, right, come on. Right, come on, get it.

Here's what I owe you. Come on, get up. More, here, man. Then I finished the job he had started. I found a scarlet Madonna clutched in McKissick's dead hand. For a scarlet Madonna, it was mighty green.

It was an emerald about the size of a pack of cigarettes. and flattened out in your pocket. A Madonna figure was carved in bar relief on one surface. As I stood over the body of McKissick looking down at the green gem in my hand, I realized where it got its crimson name.

For on the floor, outlying my hand was a spreading pool of scarlet blood. Well, sir. So it seems. May I offer you my congratulations at the same time request that you hand over the scarlet Madonna?

Being unarmed, as you are, you're not welcome to it. Perhaps I have something more persuasive than a weapon. Here. Here are my credentials. I'll look at them if you'll back up against the wall. Well, we were. Also find their alerter, authorizing me to the legal possession of his infamous, as hateful as the cursed instrument of Greece.

I'll explain that it's been my odious duty to retrieve it for his rightful owner. Still well, museum, London, London, from which it was stolen by Victor and his Oak Wild Lady and Lady, the exotic Midega.

Sure it's investigated. You. What do you come from? What's your outfit? Yes, I thought I'd set you back on your heels. I'm from London. Pity we didn't have each other's interests classified earlier. We might very well have, shall we say, collaborated in this matter.

Yeah. I'm sure there's an unvoiced question looking on the tip of your tongue. My association with the best you're wicker. Well, at this point, I didn't want to insult you. I think nothing of it, my boy.

Due to a fortunate similarity in voice and physique for your accomplice actor, Mr. Sidney Grieckstreet, I find myself automatically enlisted as undoubtedly the villain of the beast. In this case, and many others doing my fantastically successful career as an insurance investigator, I was able to learn myself for the basic source of the villainy and bar.

Brother, I pray that you not accuse me of being associated with any of the physical violences, which have punctuated this case. In short, this Victor fellow occasionally slipped through my finger. Look, all I'm trying to find is 12 lousy taxi kids.

Yeah, well then, your troubles are at an end, my boy. I shall write out and address. Fine, then. And there you shall find them on farms, the warehouse, hard by the east roof. OK. You'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I tell you that in this case, it is but another small milestone.

And the glorious pathway strewn with superior accomplishments Solving those minor mysteries, devolved by the niggly minds of its snivelling criminals who would offend the sanctity of that guardian of the peace of the public mind.

Insurance company. Amen. Expanse accounts, item seven. A dollar ninety-five, one evening gown, which was hard enough to find, but would probably mean even harder to wear at that price, purchased in an all-night salon to mow down on 136th This dress I gave to Mr. Bridewell to take with him when he went calling on

Senorita, Marita, Guastella, prior to turning a robot to the police. Expense account item eight, six dollars and ten cents. One bottle of you know what, with which the gargoyle of half good, half bad taste left by this case out of my mouth.

Expense account item nine, transportation. No, come on, think of it. You can forget this item for a while. I think I'd better say here in Manhattan and rest up a bit. Expense account item nine, $400.

Advance, meditainment and things while resting on my laurels. Or possibly, Mr. Bridewell's laurels. But anyway, resting. Expense account total $1,100. You fill in the sense. Yours truly Johnny Dollar. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar, is produced and directed by Norman Macdonald and stars Charles Russell with script by Paul Dudley and Gildau.

Featured in the cast were Herb Butterfield, as Mr. Bridewell, with Paul Dubois, Lillian Biav, Lou Krugman, Junius Matthews, Jan Arvin and Jack Prusian. The special music is written and conducted by Leet Stephen. Be sure to be with us again at the same time next week when another most unusual expense account is handed in by

Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. The great hit tunes of early 1939. Deep Purple, penny serenade, I cried for you. How many more can you remember dancing to, romancing to? You'll hear them in smart new 1949 arrangements when your hit parade on parade comes along immediately over all of these same CBS stations.

Alan Boxer speaking. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.